Title: First Kiss
Reviews: yes please
Summery: Neville's always had a little crush on his former professor.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, because if I did book five would have ended very differently, nor am I making any money off my writings.
Neville curled up in his chair. His scent was imprinted there; that rich, almost musky aroma, with just a hint of something wild. Neville snuggled down into the plush fabric and closed his eyes dreamily, content with the world around him.
Grimmauld place was loud, noisy and hectic. The whole Weasley clan, minus Percy, was housed here, as well as Harry, Hermione and Luna. Though it was usually much more crowded, what with the Order members frequently stopping by and staying for a few days at a time. Tonks, Kingsley, Mrs. Figg, sometimes Snape, though he never stayed long, which Neville was very thankful for, visited commonly enough, and stayed for meals a few times a week.
The Weasley twins made a mess of every room they entered, Tonks was constantly clattering around, and the never ending ranting Hermione spewed made the house seem very small, even though it had three floors and more rooms than Neville had bothered to count.
But the library was different. Not just the quiet tranquility that filled the spacious room, but the way he was always there.
Neville felt a blush spread across his cheeks, thinking of the older man, his former professor. It was wrong and depraved and Remus was everything he shouldn't want in a lover, but yet that floating feeling invaded his stomach every time he saw him, every time he heard his name spoken.
Neville nestled further in, picturing how Remus had sprawled in this very chair the night before, a book on his lap, reading contently. Neville had sat across him, trying to concentrate on his herbology homework, but finding it increasingly difficult, as Remus sunk deeper into the world of his book.
He'd longed to go and sit against Remus's legs, rest his head on his thigh, feel those gentle fingers caress and brush his hair. But he hadn't, he restrained himself and kept firm to his seat, wishing that Remus would beacon him over to sit on his lap.
That little nagging voice in the back of his mind laughed hysterically at this thought. He could never sit on Remus's lap like he fantasized about. He'd probably crush the man with his fatty thighs. Remus was much too small and slight for doing something like that, or at least doing something like that with him.
But he drove those thoughts far from his mind, just relishing in the solitude of the library, and the warmth of the fire burning in the fireplace.
"Neville, what are you doing up so late?" that warm, deep voice that haunted Neville's dream spoke softly from the open doorway.
"I couldn't sleep," he managed, feeling his heart hammer against his chest.
"I suppose that's all right, it's not as if you have class tomorrow," Remus entered the library, a thick novel in his hand. He took a seat on the sofa that Neville had occupied the night before, and took out his reading glasses, sliding them upon the bridge of his nose as he opened his book to its marked page.
Neville pulled his eyes away from Remus, wanting to simply watch him read. He always loved seeing Remus with his glasses on. He looked so distinguished. Remus's lips pouted out just a tad, driving Neville mad with need, making it more and more difficult to keep his eyes away. If he could only get one kiss...
"Professor?" he asked, wincing at the sound of his breathless voice.
Remus peered up from behind his spectacles, "Yes, Neville,"
"N...nothing," he stuttered out, mentally kicking himself. He watched the fire intently, feeling an embarrassed flush cover his face. He could practically feel Remus's eyes on him, wondering what that had been about. But when he snuck a peek at Remus, his eyes were back focused on his book.
How could he ever be so stupid, to even think about asking Remus for a kiss? It was insane and desperate. Remus would be disgusted at him, and the small pleasure Neville got from just being around him would be gone. Remus wasn't rude enough to outwardly laugh in his face, or to spread it around, but Neville could picture how revolted he would be.
Neville felt his stomach tighten is shame and nervousness. He curled his legs up to his body and rested his head on his knees, still gazing fixedly at the fire.
"What's wrong, Neville? You look upset," Remus asked gently, and Neville felt a shudder sting his body, his heart pounding.
"Nothing, I'm fine," he answered immediately. Remus quirked a polite eyebrow at him.
"Are you sure, you look a little ill?" Remus's eyes were worried as they watched Neville intently.
Neville nodded and straightened up a little, unfolding his legs, "I'm okay, just a little tired. I think I'll go up to bed," he wanted to flee, feeling stupid and unwanted.
The chubby boy stood up and all but bolted from the library, his sense of peace and safety having been ripped from him. He turned the corner and headed down the hall, feeling the intense want to cry, but refusing to do so when anyone walking by could see him.
"Neville," the same sweet voice called him back, and Neville turned to see Remus standing a few paces back, leaning against the wall.
"What?" Neville whispered.
"You shouldn't feel so guilty," Remus closed his eyes for a moment, opening them to stare directly at Neville, "you've done nothing wrong,"
Neville felt his heart pounding and his legs quivering. There was no way Remus could no what he was saying. He had no clue how Neville felt about him.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Neville muttered quickly, just wanting to be left alone.
"I think you do," and for a frantic moment Neville thought Remus might yell or even slap him, but he did neither, only approached him at a leisurely pace and gently laid a supporting hand on his shoulder.
Neville almost fell into him. Remus had never been so close to him before. He'd never touched him so intimately.
"Have you ever kissed anyone, Neville?" he asked, leaning down so he whispered it softly in his ear.
Neville gave a terrified little squeak and shook his head, "N...no," he answered.
Remus smiled kindly, "Would you like me to kiss you?" Neville didn't think he could speak. Things like this didn't happen to him, "I know you're attracted to me. You reek of it," his words were soft and smooth and suddenly Neville understood. How could he have forgotten? Remus was a werewolf; he could sense it.
Neville looked down, breathing hard, his hands trembling, "Yes," his voice shook as he spoke.
Remus leaned down and gently bestowed a soft kiss on Neville's lips, pressing against them firmly. Neville gasped against Remus, feeling his cheeks glow crimson, as he pushed his lips back against Remus's.
Remus held Neville against him, rubbing soothing circles on his back, trying to calm the shaking boy down. Neville instinctively wrapped his arms around Remus's slim shoulders, holding onto the older man tightly.
The kiss deepened at Remus's insistence. He slowly slid his tongue against Neville's lips, licking the crease, requesting entrance. Neville whimpered and spread his lips awkwardly, moaning as he felt the warm tongue slip inside, slowly stroking his own.
It was too much. Neville pulled away, panting, still clinging to Remus.
"Any good?" Remus asked, a smile playing on his slightly reddened lips.
"Yeah," Neville didn't manage to say anything else.
Remus stroked the boy's fluffy brown hair, tucking loose strands behind his ear. Neville rested his cheek against Remus's chest, closing his eyes and breathing in Remus's musky scent.
"Would you like me to kiss you again?"
It turned out Neville's second kiss was just as good as his first.