I need a Neville/Draco icon...Title:
The Socratic MethodWord count:
Draco is Neville’s first and best student. Neville believes in the Socratic method.Warnings:
The boys and girls belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.Author’s Notes:
This was written for the neville100
In October, one of the cautious conversations shared in the Eighth Year common room turned to sex, probably because it was something everyone there had an interest in. Draco wondered what to say. He couldn’t tell them he was a virgin, they’d laugh; and he certainly couldn’t tell them why
, because that meant bringing up Fenrir Greyback.
All things considered, when Longbottom blushed and stammered, his dark eyes embarrassed, and mumbled out how many lovers he’d had, Draco should have been infuriated.
But he eyed Longbottom’s large, sensitive hands and wide mouth and strong jaw and had quite another reaction.~*~
It only took him three weeks to get Longbottom into bed. He’d expected it to take longer, actually; but Neville had turned around in the middle of tutoring Draco in DADA and being subtly seduced, and said, “can I kiss you?” The Room of Requirement was very obliging.
Not half so obliging as Neville: he’d kissed Draco thoroughly, leaving him wheezing and flushed, and found hotspots Draco hadn’t known. Draco opened his thighs easily – Neville would take care of him, it was all right – but couldn’t hold back one small, anxious sound.
Neville was gentle and didn’t make him explain.~*~
“I want to be a teacher, you know,” Longbottom said once, when they were curled sweatily together in Greenhouse Three. He’d been talkative after sex, recently; Draco thought he was trying to build a connection.
Because his heart still recoiled inside him at the risk, he smiled lazily. “Oh, Professor. I do best with hands-on teaching.” He straddled Neville, returning his smile.
Neville’s hands bracketed his hips. “Well, I don’t like to lecture, you know. I prefer the Socratic method...”
“It involves you making suggestions.” His hand stroked teasingly over Draco’s hardening cock, drawing a gasp. “What next?”~*~
Neville stroked a crotchety teething violet, barely able to believe it. He was a teacher – and the greenhouses were his domain at last.
Neville looked up at the drawling voice, feeling his face light up. Draco was leaning against the door wearing respectable black robes and a filthy grin. “There you are.”
Draco came into his arms, and Neville took swift advantage: Draco liked it when his ever-so-polite partner groped him. Draco wriggled pleasantly against his wandering hands, and let Neville manoeuvre him into perching on a wooden table, Neville standing between his legs.
“I’m glad you’re here.”~*~
“Your first and best student,” Draco said.
“Absolutely the best. You had an excellent attitude,” Neville said, before biting Draco’s tender earlobe. Draco’s chuckle was broken by a gasp. Neville pulled his collar aside, and began sucking a new lovebite into bloom; Draco clutched his shoulders.
“You’re the only teacher who’s ever said that.”
“I should hope so.”
“Snape was scared of Mother, you see.”
Neville swatted his arse, laughing, and felt Draco’s cock jump. “Oh, are we going for the clichés tonight?”
“They’re clichés for a reason,” said Draco, and produced a cane. “And I’ve been ever so bad.”