Clears throat loudly Aaa-HEM! Attention all faithful, kind, and beloved readers. Warning for semi-rape. Sorta. I mean...oh never mind. Two people of the opposite gender do it in this chapter. Live with it. I'm putting a warning before and after smut. Heed if you dare.
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Chapter Eight
It was amazing how much liquor Severus had been consuming since Luna had entered his life. A harsh, rough laugh escaped his throat. His so-called friends had always told him he couldn't hold his liquor, and they were right. He had little toleration fof the stuff, yet he drank it anyway. His thoughts clouded over, and his mind was no longer in the booth at a dirty little muggle pub. He was at his father's house, the summer of his eleventh birthday...
His mother grinned at him, gracing him with the warmth of one of her rare smiles. She was obviously itching with contained excitement. He smiled up at her. She wasn't an overly beautiful woman, he admitted, but she was his god. He revered her as he would the Queen. She always wore prude dresses with high collars and drab colors, leaning to black most of the time with long sleeves tapering down to her slim wrists. It was to cover the bruises his father left, he knew, but it didn't hide the purple shadow on her cheek. He suddenly felt very sad. But then, his mother urged him to open the small stack of presents that sat on the table.
Severus didn't have any friends, so it wasn't really a party. Just him and his mother and father and her brother. But the room felt fuller when the people in it were happy. Of course, his father wasn't happy, but he never was. Especially not when his uncle was around. Severus turned to the inviting gifts. He tore open the one from his father. A crucifix. He should have known. Last year it had been a Bible. The next gift was from his uncle. Beneath the wrapping paper lay a thick tome on potions. He thanked his uncle profusely, having been in need of such a book for quite some time, and went on to his mother's gift. Just as he was beginning to slip a fingernail along the taped crease in the paper, she touched his shoulder, causing him to look up.
"Severus, you know it's rude to open the gift before you read the card," she said in her quiet, subdued voice. He nodded and opened the envelope that sat on top of the parcel. The first line of the letter told him all. He smiled from ear to ear up at his mother.
"I got in, Mum!" he almost yelled, but didn't, since no one was allowed to yell in the Snape house with a firm beating with a cane. She put her arm around his shoulder, and his uncle's black eyes seemed to almost twinkle beneath his bushy, greying eyebrows.
"Now open the gift, son," his mother urged him. He tore open the box and found a stack of school supplies. "I thought a practical gift would be best," she said, her lips twitching into a faint, nervous smile.
"You'll have to return them, Eileen," Severus's father said, his stony expression making his mother quake behind him.
"Surely we can talk about this later. It's his birthday," she said, gesturing to Severus.
"No. We talk now!" his father said loudly, pulling Eileen into the parlor by her arm. Severus and his uncle sat at the table, eating the feast his mother had arranged and helped make for his birthday, wincing at every other scream.
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"Wake up, ol' chap," a voice said, and Snape woke up with a startled gasp. A muggle stood by him, obviously a worker boy at the pub. "Closin' time." Severus got up from the booth, taking the almost empty bottle of whiskey with him. He staggered out of the pub and apparrated home.
When he stumbled into his quarters, his stomach was roiling and his mind was fuzzy with the alcohol. He had never really liked apparrating. Especially when he was drunk. He needed to get to his bathroom, and quickly. He tore open the door and allowed his Dutch courage to pour out of his mouth, accompanied with unattractive sounds and some strong, dry heaves. Then he heard the quiet ripple of water not a meter from his head. He looked over, feeling a bit miserable, and saw a tow-headed girl in his bathtub. Luna. She put her head on her arms, which were resting on the ledge of the bathtub.
"Are you alright?"
Warning: Smut Starts Here...sorta
"I've been better," he said. Her extremely albescent skin distracted his thoughts. It was smooth and slick with water, but he could imagine it being slick with something else. He shook his head. Where did that come from? he hought. He found the whiskey in his hand and used it to rinse out his mouth as well as his thoughts. He blinked in the harsh light of the bathroom. The whiskey didn't help. Suddenly, he was standing, towering over the bathing girl, looking at her nude form. She didn't seem to notice. She was too busy studying his unshaven jaw. She had never seen him less than perfectly groomed, other than his greasy hair, and it was interesting. His jaw was all shiny with the hair, so black it gave his face a blue tint. She barely even noticed when he pulled her out of the bath tub, in the "altogether" and dripping water. He threw her onto the bed, and she felt a strange sensation creep through her. It was a feeling of wonder and amazement. She realized that she was naked, in front of a man, in his bed, and in a rather saucy position. She pulled her legs together and crawled beneath the blankets, blushing the slightest bit. But Snape didn't even notice. He was in the kitchen area, filling a tumbler up with brandy. He sloshed it down his throat, its burning heat crawling into his achingly empty stomach. He realized his mistake and ate a piece of plain bread, untoasted and unadorned with anything, to absorb some of the massive amounts of alcohol he was about to consume.
A few shots of vodka and several tumblers of brandy later, Severus was on cloud nine, almost completely unaware of what he was doing. He walked over to Luna, who was gaping at his show of drinking. It had amazed her, since her father had never let her touch more than a small, watery glass of wine at the annual banquet he gave near Christmas, and even that made her feel all warm and fuzzy in her mind. She had never seen anyone consume so much alcohol in such a short time. She watched his drunken stagger as he came to the bed. He pulled off his robe to reveal an undershirt and a pair of plain, white boxers. She pushed her hand to her mouth to contain her giggles. She was seeing Professor Snape in his smalls. A laugh escaped, but he didn't hear it. His senses were dulled by his rapid loss of brain cells in the last ten minutes. Everything was dulled.
He crawled into the bed next to her, and quite suddenly she found herself on her back, Snape's mouth pressed against hers and his hand on her chest. It was strange to think about. All those years, she had watched him making potions with those hands, and now they were well on their way to feeling her up. The only other people Luna had let kiss her were Neville and Draco, Neville being a clumsy but sweet kisser, and Draco being a bit more determined and experienced. She had enjoyed both, and she decided that she should try to enjoy this one. After all, what could she do about it? He was her husband, however unwilling both parties may be, and he held certain rights. Besides, Luna never was one to turn down the chance of a new experience, and going to bed with Snape would certainly qualify. So, she managed to relax and try to not think about the taste of his breathe.
Snape sensed the change in her, even in his inebriated state, and he continued on. His hands roamed the gentle, slim curves of Luna's body, and he became hard at the thought of going in. He had forgotten completely that his sober self would be completely disgusted by such behaviour, and he explored the sixteen-year-old's youthful, willing body. She was anything but aroused, but she was in a consenting sort of mood. A gasp escaped her lips, and she realized that Severus Snape had his mouth around her nipple, his teeth and tongue touching the nerves at the tip of her breast, and she was further surprised by the other hand pinching the opposite nipple to a hard, red peak. It was so odd and new a sensation that a bubble of laughter escaped her. Snape looked up, slightly annoyed that he had been stopped, then went back to what he had been doing.
Severus gently kissed his way to the pale patch of wiry hairs between her legs and tentatively trailed a finger down, down, down, until it hit the spot that made her gasp in awe. Then he went a bit further and put his finger into the moist crevice, where it quickly met a barrier. He pulled back out, a grin on his face, happy at what he had found, and began fondling her in a way that made her feel strange, detached, and urgent. Finally, just as she began to wiggle in apprehension, he got into position and plunged. She cried out in pain, the sudden end to her ecstacy. Oh, it hurt it hurt it hurt! She felt rather sure that, if not for the Chastity Ring, it would not have been nearly so painful. When she at last became aware of her surroundings, she saw the Severus was perched, still as a stone, on top of her...or rather, as she thought about it, in her. He seemed to be waiting. She wondered if he would have done that had he not been drunk. No. He would not have done anything that he was doing so adamantly right now. He began moving again. Back, forth, back, forth, slowly, steadily, until Luna became comforted by the rythym of it. She didn't even realize when she fell asleep right after he pulled out.
Warning: Smut Ends Here.
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The next morning, Severus Snape woke up in his bed with the most wretched headache he had ever had in his life. A splitting pain was coming from the front of his head, and he realized it was the orange light that was penetrating his eyelids. He carefully opened them, the orange turning to bright, painful white. His curtains were opened. As were the windows. He wondered who had done that. He sat up only to fall back down, his aching head preventing any sudden movement. He carefully, creepingly, rolled from his bed and came achingly, slowly, to his feet. For a moment, he stood shakily, and then he walked, ever so carefully, to his tiny laboratory, and pulled from the cabinet a small vial of light green liquid. Hang-over Potion. He gulped the terrible stuff down, and a moment later, relief flooded his aching, tired body. He was beginning to feel all forty years of his life on his shoulders. On his shoulders. Hmmm. His bare shoulders. He looked down to find himself wearing nothing but his shorts. and beneath those shorts was a limp, rather dirty-feeling organ. He needed a shower. That moment. He could only assume that he had had a wet dream and ejaculated in the night all over himself, but he didn't recall any such dream. In fact, he hadn't had dreams like that since he was fifteen and learned to take a certain potion before he went to bed if any suspicious thoughts entered his head. He climbed into the spray of hot water, ready to relax in a shower.
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Luna woke up that morning, feeling awfully nice between the satiny sheets in the buff. She wasn't the least bit bothered by last night's events. Other than the crusty, dirty feel of the space between her legs. She would take a shower, but apparently Snape had already crawled into the bathroom. She rolled over and fell asleep once more.
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A/N: If the smut wasn't that great...Well, live with it. Luna's first time wasn't that great, so be happy if yours was, if you have had that first time, and don't tell me if you have. PLEASE. I have nothing to base my stuff on other than what you all have written and what's in those little romance novels. It's a bit late. Forgive me for my mindless and nonsensical rambling.