Title: Vanquishing Monday
Pairing: SS/HP/SS's desk
Warnings: Slash, Evil Mondays
Dedication: Written for my beloved alisanne, in hopes that it will vanquish her own evil, evil Monday.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and situations owned by JK Rowling and various companies. No copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made.
For Ali...enjoy it, my love!
It was Monday.
Severus Snape briefly allowed his head to drop in his hands as he sat behind his desk. Not even magic could dispel the curse of Mondays. It was truly the most horrible day in the whole week, and sometimes… Sometimes Mondays weren’t content to limit themselves to their given day and seeped like acid into the days surrounding them.
There had even been that one time that Monday had lasted for two weeks. Severus shuddered as he recalled that dark, bleak, desolate time. It was during the Longbottom era. Thank Merlin that era was long over.
Hearing a sound, Severus snapped upright, once again stiff and formal behind his armour… his desk. He allowed himself the luxury of stroking his fourth finger along the raised grain of the wood. His desk had seen him through many a Monday. He could almost hear a purr from his desk as he surreptitiously caressed it.
Suddenly, a pair of arms came around him, one to pull him back against a firm chest, the other moved to cover his hand with its own. The fingers of that hand moved with his in a dance across the scarred, wooden surface of his desk.
“Monday,” a soft baritone voice whispered in his ear.
He merely nodded. Of course it was. Evil, evil Monday.
The arms left him then, and he heard fabric rustling behind him as bits of clothing were dropped heedlessly to the stone floor. A few whispered words ensured their privacy, and if he’d been in any state to let loose his customary snark, he would have made a comment about waiting ‘til one was naked to cast the charms. But it was Monday.
He felt himself lifted from his chair, totally incapable of participating just yet. Mondays tended to sap all his will to live, of which his lover was aware.
He closed his eyes in bliss as strong fingers pulled his teaching robes from his slim frame before attacking the plain, linen shirt and trousers he wore underneath. Those nimble fingers—so warm!—stroked along his skin, plucked at his nipples, and delved into his hidden places with such skill that he was soon mindless to anything but pleasure.
Slick fingers probed at his opening while he lay quiescent atop his desk, feeling the raised grain of the beloved piece of furniture all along his chest. A small, gentle push from behind and he was being filled with thick, pulsing warmth. As his desk pressed firmly against his front, a warm, skilled body played his own from the rear. He felt his consciousness floating as he gave himself completely over to the pleasure.
Soon, he was panting against the dark wood underneath him, watching through the rapture that threatened to overtake him as his breath condensed into a damp film atop the surface. A powerful thrust snapped his hips against the edge of the desk and brought him back to himself. A low growl rumbled from his chest as he pushed forcefully back and clenched his anal passage. A deep, breathless groan from behind told him how much that was appreciated. The next several minutes were filled with deep sighs and guttural grunts as both men took charge of their own pleasures.
When Severus felt his lover’s rhythm faltering, he reached under him to stroke himself to completion, finishing just in time for them to come simultaneously.
As they came down from their post coital high, he heard a breathless chuckle and a, “Take that Monday!”
He gave silent thanks—silent, because he would never admit aloud to any thankfulness for his brat—that his lover was a hero of mythical proportions.
Not even evil, evil Mondays could stand in the face of Harry Potter.