A/n: Enjoy :)
The Gryffindor common room was alive and loud. Harryd had just completed the second task in the TriWizard Tournament, and everyone was celebrating. There was an overwhelming feel to the space that was vaguely reminiscent of a Muggle rave. Loud incessant bass thumped from a bewitched cauldron. A large crystal punch bowl, filled with something a bit more potent than pumpkin juice, sat in the corner not occupied by snogging lovers. The only light came from the wild flames in the fireplace which had been charmed to change color. The center of the room was occupied by a mass of Gryffindor students that could be described as an orgy; boys on girls, girls on girls, and occasionally boys on boys. One such happening is where we begin our tale.
Neville sat watching the other students on the dance floor from his chair near the entry. He sipped from his brimming chalice; the thick liquid burned his throat as it slithered to his stomach. Neville had been in this situation before, he was too shy to just throw himself into the party, but that wouldn't stop him from enjoying a never ending goblet of Fred and George's Famous Devil's Punch; to anybody who doesn't know it's secret it smells and tastes like mud, but to those who have been told the secret it has stronger potency than Firewhiskey and tastes like the nectar of the gods.
Neville kept scanning the room. His eye landed on a boy with his goblet raised in the air and an oversized hat covering his head; Seamus. He was moving to the beat of the music, laughing and dancing with everyone. Seamus was the party animal type. When he had a few goblets worth of Devil's Punch in him, he became a loud, fun, and horny little bastard. This display of rambunctiousness always made Neville laugh. Come to think of it, Seamus had been making Neville laugh a lot lately. It seemed like every time they were around each other Seamus tried extra hard to be the funny guy. Neville liked listening to the Irish boy's outlandish tales and quick puns. Just the thought of being around Seamus made Neville giggle to himself.
Neville was suddenly taken from his little day dream. Seamus was dancing toward him, beckoning for Neville to join him on the dance floor. Something in Neville's gut told him to stay put, but there was a stronger force telling him to get up and dance with the Irish boy. Neville stood slowly, drink still in hand, and moved toward the party animal, "Having fun?" Nev shouted over the loud music.
"I am. But you look a bit bored, thought I'd come and change that for ya." Seamus slurred as he danced closer and closer to Neville.
"I'm only going to dance because you asked," Nev replied.
With that Seamus grabbed the taller boy's hand and dragged him to the center of the dance floor. Hot sweaty bodies moved all around them. Neville began to move to the beat, slightly off actually. Seamus laughed and pulled Neville close to him, "C'mon Nev, you have tah put your hips into it."
Neville felt a sudden electrical tinge roll through his body. Slowly the combination of Devil's Punch and the wild lights began to take their toll on Neville; he started losing himself to the power of the music. Her fast paced rhythm wrapped itself around Neville's waist. Or were those Seamus' arms? Every note glided through Neville's ears and took him to a higher plane; temporarily leaving this one.
Then Neville felt something pulling him back to earth; a kiss. Lips smashed against his sweet and playful, yet rough and forceful. Nev could feel the passion building as a tongue ran itself across his lower lip begging entrance. Being the submissive type, he gladly let the eager tongue slip in. Explosions fired behind Neville's shut eyelids, nothing mattered but that moment.
Something hit Neville like a stunning spell; who the hell is kissing me? He immediately ceased kissing the seemingly unknown being. Just as Nev began to open his eyes, everything came back to him. Seamus. His cheeks flushed crimson at the sudden realization.
They stared at each other for a brief moment that passed like an eternity. Tears formed in the corners of the Irish boy's glassy orbs. "Neville…I…I'm sorry…I just…and so beautiful...perfect…but now..," Seamus rambled incoherent sentences to fill the awkward space between them.
Between drunken slur, thick accent, and the confused stammer Neville couldn't understand hardly a word Seamus uttered. In all honesty, it didn't matter; Neville knew exactly how he felt about the entire situation. He reached out and grabbed Seamus' cheeks and pulled his face close kissing him deeply. Everything was going to be all right, they could work out the details later.
A/n: Hope this was as fun fo you to read as it was for me to write :)
Happy Reading
~Sweetboi~