Mousapelli’s Fanfiction » Harry Potter, Paperclips

Harry Potter, Paperclips

Title: Paperclips [Harry/Neville]
Rating/Warnings: R for a medicinal blowjob.
Summary: Neville is not in the habit of carrying around OCD medication, so sex must suffice.
A/N: Written as commentsmut for Florahart.

Paperclips

Harry always used to do this thing. When he was upset. With paperclips.

It was a frighteningly obsessive-compulsive ritual, had to be done exactly the same way every time, and if he was interrupted in the middle, Harry would toss the half done paperclip and start on a new one.

He would straighten the thing out completely, so you couldn’t even tell it had been bent, then he would twist both sides up in a circle until he had a perfect pair of miniature spectacles. If he only had one paperclip, he would leave it laying about, if he had several, he would string them in a chain.

Neville had been noticing more and more of the paperclip spectacles lying about, in classrooms, at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, in the Room of Requirement, any place Harry’d been was likely to have at least a few.

there were worse methods of coping with stress, Neville supposed, until the afternoon he opened a drawer of Harry’s desk looking for a spare quill and discovered hundreds of the things in one huge chain, so many they barely fit in the drawer. In fact, opening the drawer knocked a couple off the top and the whole chain began slithering out in that inexorable snakey way paperclip chains have.

Neville just watched them go; it took a full three minutes for them all to slither to the floor. He left the pile there and went immediately to find Harry.

The Boy Who Needed OCD Medication was just coming out of the library, looking stressed enough to make paperclip spectacle chains until his fingers bled. Catching Harry by the collar, Neville yanked him into a nearby alcove without a word.

“Nev, what…” were all the words Harry got out before his mouth was covered by Neville’s, and then he was distracted by Neville’s hands slipping into his robes, and then even when Neville released Harry’s mouth to drop to his knees, Harry seemed capable only of chanting Neville’s name over and over in a low whine.

What Neville hadn’t expected was for Harry’s fingers tugging on his hair to feel so good, for the throb of Harry’s cock in his mouth to make heat pool in his stomach, or for the sound of Harry repeating his name to make him tremble just as badly as the pale thigh under his fingertips.

When Harry came, Neville was a bare inch away from coming himself, but he focused on the fact that his knees were killing him as he sucked Harry clean, then climbed painfully to his feet.

Harry was gasping for air still, glasses slipped down to the very tip of his nose, eyes wide. Neville looked him right in the eye.

“No more paperclips,” he ordered. Harry nodded fervently and pulled Neville forward by the tie for another kiss.