Originally posted: 18 Januray 2009
... *blushes* Well, you can't say you're surprised. I was bound to end up shipping Teddy with someone, and Harry was the least worst choice because hurrah for bisexual Metamorphmagi. (It also fulfils my need for characters acting despicably and using each other...) My Slytherin!Teddy is present yet again — and don't worry, he is very much legal in this fic.
I tried a slightly different writing style this time, a more embellished and stream-of-conscience one. I have no idea if it works or not. bell was kind enough to both beta this and assure me that I needn't have a heart attack over it.
So, I suppose that's all I have to say. *runs to hide*
Title: The Witching Hour
Summary: There are not many things Teddy Lupin wants in this life, but what he wants, he'll get. His godfather included.
WARNINGS: Highlight to read: language, sexual themes, excessive alcohol consumption, dub-con, semi-adultery
Word Count: 836
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters; I'm just playing around a bit.
The bottles stood in the middle of the table, among drops and pools of red that stained the oak; the two expensive crystal wine goblets were still half full.
Plying Harry with alcohol really was too easy, Teddy mused as he took a sip of his Bordeaux. Then again, maybe it wasn't so strange after all. Children away at Hogwarts, stuck with Ginevra Weasley-Potter, Head of the Auror Department... Oh yes, Teddy too would have had a predilection for wine if he'd been in Harry's position. Victoire had been annoying at times, when they were dating, she couldn't hold a candle to Ginevra.
Harry put his goblet onto the table and sunk back into the sofa with a sigh. He dragged a hand across his flushed face, pushing up his spectacles. "Fuck, Ted, you really shouldn't let me drink this much," he mumbled, slurring slightly. "Ginny'll be back tomorrow and she'll kill me if I'm hung-over."
"I'll leave a Morning After potion by your bedside table, then," Teddy said, his lips curving ever-so-slightly.
Harry gave a humourless chuckle. "Not sure I'd wake up in time for it."
"I can see to that as well."
Harry looked up at him, frowning and gaze unfocused. Teddy got up from the armchair and walked round the table, towards the sofa, towards Harry.
"Ted?" There was a wary tone to Harry's voice and Teddy couldn't help but smile. Feral; wolfish even, like a hunter finally catching up to its prey. All lovely descriptions and metaphors that weren't worth a bloody scrap at that moment.
"Hush," Teddy murmured as he placed his knees on either side of Harry's hips, almost straddling his lap. Harry looked apprehensive now; his eyes behind the slid-down spectacles narrowed and his body tensed.
"Easy now," Teddy almost purred, like a complacent cat, and what was it with him and animal metaphors when he was drunk? "I won't hurt you, I promise."
Not waiting for Harry's response, Teddy brushed his fingers along Harry's cheekbones, down to the jaw line. His right hand trailed the length of Harry's neck, feeling the muscles and tendons twitch beneath his fingertips. He buried his other hand in Harry's thick, unruly hair and leaned forwards.
Harry's lips were cool and slack from the alcohol and unresponsive; the taste of Burgundy overpowered everything else. Teddy moved his lips against his, sucking, nipping, and finally, after several eternities, Harry began to kiss back.
It wasn't the most perfect or elegant kiss in history. A bit sloppy, too much wine and saliva, not quite synchronized, but it didn't matter because it was Harry. Teddy was kissing Harry, and that was what mattered. Tongues met, slick with rich wine, wine that kept masking all other tastes. Teddy moaned, a tiny whimper, and felt a thrill when Harry let out a sound in return. He slid his hand from Harry's neck down to his sinewy chest, down his button-up shirt, running his hand through the chest hair, roaming. Harry made another sound, and this, Teddy decided, was perfect, because it was Harry's hands on his hips, drifting towards his arse, and it was he, Teddy, who would have made Harry hard, had he not been rendered temporarily impotent by the alcohol.
Teddy, on the other hand, was only mildly tipsy, and his erection was straining against the fly of his jeans.
Teddy broke the kiss, an almost obscene wet pop as their lips parted, and drew breaths in pants, swallowing heavily. Harry looked delicious, splayed before him, lips red and face flushed. To not lean in and kiss him again, to let things have its natural course, to finally see Harry come undone before him, physically hurt Teddy, but he had to stop now. He couldn't do more than kiss this time; he hadn't planned for anything beyond that, wouldn't be able to cover his tracks. He hadn't been sure he would even come this far, had dared to hope but not really believe. Teddy had to stop now. But next time, next time...
With effort, Teddy put Harry's shirt right again, smoothing out the creases, lingering, and then reached behind him for his wand on the table.
"Ted...?" The wariness was back, and Teddy smiled yet again as he placed the tip of the wand against Harry's temple.
"Obliviate," he whispered against his lips, and Harry's eyes instantly became glassy.
Teddy crawled off the sofa, taking his time and reluctantly letting go, almost knocking Harry's wine goblet over as he did so. He laid his wand back on the table and made his way back to his armchair, sitting down on it, crossing his legs slightly and leaning forward. He could get himself off when he came home; he didn't have time for that now.
Harry jerked and shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I seem to've dozed off. Where were we?"
Teddy's lips curved. "I was asking if I should leave a Morning After potion by your bed."