"I'm glad you came to Hogwarts."

Sebastian Sallow needed to be looked after. It’s not as tender as it sounds.

Since the age of thirteen, not a single morning had gone by where he hadn't woken up rigid and wanting. For a young man of his means, he’d satiated this desire. He’d managed to charm his way through many of the more outgoing ladies and gentlemen of Hogwarts. Purebloods were particularly inclined to him; due to the relative purity of his blood and his prowess with a wand. Not to mention the fact they were raised in the more progressive wizarding world.

This was where the issue with muggle-borns came into play. Muggle society was always so tight-lipped around sex and pleasure—which was ridiculous, Sebastian thought. Why would you withhold something as good as sex from yourself? The muggle-born ladies treated his flirting with doe-eyed faces and trembling hands like he might get on his knees any minute—not in the fun way. The men, however, would be nervous in an entirely other way. They were so skittish about being caught with another man, no matter how many queer couples walked their halls. When he pushed them against walls, his tongue finding its way into their mouth, they would push him off until they found somewhere ‘safe’. They hardly allowed him to flirt in class.

Until he did.

The new fifth year, as he was known. Although many years had passed since he was a fifth year, that was for certain. On the cusp of their graduation, the other boy had filled out—grown. He’d matured in a way that Sebastian had noticed, in fervid, desperate moments, when his eyes would lathe over the lines of his friend’s body, would imagine them rid of all clothes. Would imagine him under the other.

It began rather innocently. They had been friends for years and knew things about each other that they would never dare to tell anyone else. Sebastian knew that his friend had never taken any lovers while at Hogwarts. He chalked it up to the fact that the other was muggle-born and uninterested in courting without the purpose to marry; as was the custom. Regardless, Sebastian had an insatiable appetite and found endless fun in flirting with his friends. Ominis had borne the brunt of it for years, oftentimes they had been mistaken for a couple because Sebastian’s tongue reacted far too desirably in public. Their other friend, however, never returned any of Sebastian’s comments. He simply brushed over the words of his flirtatious Slytherin, changed the subject, chuckled and then moved on.

Until he didn’t.

“If those trousers hug your thighs any tighter, you may as well take them off,” Sebastian mewled.

His friend turned around and raised a brow. “Says the man in shirts so tight you may as well wear a corset.”

Sebastian baulked. The other boy smirked, his lips a wet promise.

“Then again, I think you’d look good in a corset,” he commented. Then he shrugged, turned around again, and left.

Sebastian’s cock went stiff startlingly fast. Which was new.

Therein lay the problem. He’d been yearning, desperate, for something ever since he was able to conceive of that want. But despite the number of lovers he’d taken over the years, he never felt full.

The ladies would whimper and moan into Sebastian’s mouth, their lips so pliant and easy to pry apart, to breach. His fingers would work circles into their cunt as they came apart in his hands. Afterwards, maybe they’d touch him, seal their mouth around his cock. But they remained mewling, doe-eyed things, wanting his approval. The men would bend over for him, present themselves as he pumped his pleasure into them, moaning for his assurance, his dominance. Sebastian needed something else.

He realised this when his best friend locked him in place with a simple comment about a corset. Words that sounded like a delicious promise.

I want to see you beneath me.

After that day, the flirting continued for weeks. Sly asides about Sebastian’s body, his sinful mouth, the threats that come wet and fervid off his friend’s tongue. Sebastian found himself brimming with a want that made him hungry. Each night spending up to an hour in the Slytherin showers, a hand pressed into his lips to stifle the whines and mewls that came from his throat. 

As simply as it started, like putting the needle on a disc and listening to the music, it crescendoed. The object of his desire placed a note on his desk one day. Small, folded. Inside it read:

"The Restricted Section. Twelve Chimes."

Heat curled in Sebastian’s stomach. He crossed his legs, hardening cock trapped between the thighs his friend had complimented so many times. He read the same sentence over and over again for the rest of the afternoon.

As the clock chimed in a succession of twelve, Sebastian wandered through the bookshelves of the Restricted Section, his shirt clammy with sweat. His mouth dry with a thirst and a hunger he knew so well. The air still, in anticipation. 

Hands were on his jaw and a mouth was on his mouth on their mouth on his. Sebastian’s back hit a shelf, arching. Hips against hips. Heat on heat. The other boy tilted Sebastian’s head, opening him with his lips until their tongues could taste each other. Everything reduced to the points they touched. Sebastian whined—whimpered—into the other’s mouth; his hips rolled into his friend’s rigid cock.

“Fuck, Sebastian—do you know what you do to me?” His voice was gravelly. Sebastian swallowed the sound.

His lips latched onto Sebastian’s neck. Sucking bruises. Sebastian was still grinding his hips, delicious friction sending fire up his nervous system. Arousal licked at his abdomen. He was aware he was moaning, keening, whining. Every sound from his mouth unbidden.

“I’ve been thinking about you every—aahn—day,” Sebastian stuttered. The other lifted up and ate the moan from his mouth.

His hand flew to Sebastian’s cock, stroking him through the fabric. Sebastian whined against his neck. His fingers grasped at the other’s scalp, clutching to his skin through the clothes. He was incorrigible. Salacious. His body was only an instrument, his friend’s hands bringing out the song.

Then they separated. Sebastian immediately went cold.

“On your knees,” His desire ordered.

His legs bent before his brain could protest. He dropped to the floor so obediently.

“So perfect,” his lover whispered, hand coming to stoke his jawline. Sebastian’s eyes wide. Fawn ears flapping at the attention. Doe legs tucked beneath him so prettily. “You okay with this?”

Sebastian blinked. Was he? What a stupid question.

He nodded. “I want this.”

“Okay.” The other boy started undoing the buckle on his belt. The sharp sound struck lightning through Sebastian’s skin. The thought made his mouth slick. His hands folded on his lap. His lover brought his cock from his briefs, his tight length wet at the tip. I did that to him. Sebastian opened his mouth. 

“Good boy.”

Merlin. This is it. This is it. This is what he’d been looking for.

His lover placed the head of his dick on his bottom lip. Sebastian leaned forward, taking it into his mouth. The other boy moaned, watching Sebastian with glassy, half-lidded eyes—blown with desire. Sebastian took him, letting the heat of his cock warm his mouth. Then, he started moving. Tentative movements, working on instinct, wanting it only deeper. Further. More. Sebastian relaxed his throat. Let the calm and the pleasure pulse through him like syrup. He sunk deeper on his length until his nose was nestled into his lover’s abdomen.

“Oh holy fuck.”

Then, the other started moving. He held Sebastian’s jaw in place, softly grinding his hips into Sebastian’s eager mouth. All cocky, flirtatious quips fucked into his throat. Sebastian moaned with each thrust, his voice raw and carnal—keening.

He was so painfully hard in his trousers, a warm dampness in his briefs but Sebastian only wanted one thing. To please. To be good. His mind was a euphoric blur, all worries, all fear, standing somewhere in the distance. Like an out-of-focus photograph. 

“You’re doing so well, pretty boy…” His friend's demeanour had shifted into a practised role. Sebastian’s puppy eyes shone up at him—lit up from the praise. Meanwhile, the other boy was sloppily grinning as he fucked his throat, red-faced and handsome. “Wanna be fucked, baby?”

Sebastian’s eyes fluttered shut with a moan.

“Yeah—yeah you do,” the other gasped.

He pulled his dick out of Sebastian’s mouth, a pearly string connecting them before breaking. Sebastian’s lips were glossy with spit and lust.

“On the table,” another order, Sebastian’s body attuned to the other like a dog on a leash. Sit. Good boy. Bend over. Good boy.

Sebastian bent over.

His hands were palming Sebastian’s ass, kneading the flesh. Another came in front, unbuttoning his trousers and pumping his cock through his briefs.

“Unnh—please,” Sebastian begged.

“The noises you make, Seb,” he growled, “fuckin’ beautiful.” He pulled Sebastian’s cock from his briefs, gently pumping him. “Look how wet you are, God.”

All Sebastian could do was whimper and shallowly thrust into his lover’s palm. His pleasure balled tight in his gut.

His lover released his dick, earning a cry, before he was pulling both their trousers down. His palm slid down to Sebastian’s hole, his fingers slick with something warm. He pushed in slowly, the stretch making Sebastian shiver. 

“Gotta prep you darlin’.”

A hand went back to Sebastian’s cock, stroking him, while fingers pumped in and out of his hole. His lover crooked them, bending upwards into a spot Sebastian had never been able to reach. Pleasure surged into his fingertips, guttural wails coming from his throat. He no longer cared if anyone found them. Let them watch.

Another finger joined his hole, as the other massaged Sebastian’s prostate; his dick leaked precum that dribbled onto the table. “Please, please, I need you inside—Aah!”

“Yes, okay, yes—fuck.” His lover’s pleasure sat on his tongue and made all the words sugar. “Seb, honey, the safe word is ‘Graphorn’, yes? You want to stop, you say it.”

Sebastian nodded.

“Say it back to me.”

Sebastian gulped. “Graphorn,” he gurgled.

“Good boy.”

Sebastian’s back arched, another pulse of precum leaving his slit and puddling onto the table. Something warm, heady, and wet pressed into his entrance. He heard his lover inhale shakily behind him. 

His dick entered him. Inch-by-inch.

Sebastian’s head thumped into the table, a whining sound erupting in his throat. It burned so good. Seconds stretched as Sebastian took his lover. The warmth thrummed through his bloodstream. Eventually, he felt the flesh of his stomach as the other bottomed out.

“You okay, baby?”

Sebastian panted. “Please—”

His lover pulled back and slammed into him. 

Everything zeroed down. His tip slammed into Sebastian’s prostate in a way that made his toes curl. He started a pace, slowly grinding into Sebastian’s ass while Sebastian moaned into the wood of the table; pushing back into the sensation. A hand snaked up to his chest, fingers running over a nipple. The sensitive bud reacted, jolts of pleasure radiating into his fingertips. 

His pace quickened. Wet slapping echoed through the library, clung between the books, the sound sticky music in Sebastian’s ears. Each pump punctuated by a depraved cry directly from Sebastian’s throat. His mouth open. Eyebrows pursed in rapture.

“God—need to be quiet, Seb.”

Fingers went into his mouth and that’s when it happened.

The pleasant buzz of fog that had overtaken his thoughts went white. Everything fell away. All Sebastian could feel, could think, was reduced to the points they touched. Any inhibitions remaining died against the fingers on his tongue. 

He felt himself come. A tidal wave of utter bliss, warming through his bloodstream. The ball in his stomach snapped open like burst fruit. Some moments later his lover came, too. A thick pump of honeyed ecstasy filled him. Warm. So warm. So peaceful.

Things were happening around him. His body was moved, gently, but Sebastian’s eyes were unfocused. His entire being relaxed. It felt like lying in a bed that smelt like your childhood home. Or being submerged in warm soapy water. His mind was a fog but he didn’t mind. Not when it was so warm.

Slowly, things came back into focus. The lens on his camera clicked as objects and time emerged in the fog. Hands stroked his hair. Anchored his shoulder.

“You back with me, Seb?”

Sebastian hummed.

“Here, baby, drink.”

A cup was placed into Sebastian’s hands. He sipped at it. His lover’s cloak was draped over his naked body. Its owner looked at him with gentle eyes and even gentler hands as he stroked Sebastian’s cheek.

“You feelin’ okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I think so,” Sebastian frowned, “Merlin, that was good. Weird, but also so good.”

The other boy chuckled. “Think I may have fucked your brain out. You’re not hurt?”

“No, I’m okay.”

His lover smiled. He was already dressed again. Cock stuffed into his trousers. He went to grab Sebastian’s clothes, offering them to him. “We can’t stay here—come back to my room?”

Sebastian didn’t usually get attached to his nighttime tirades. But he was still feeling marooned after leaving his brain behind. He wanted to be held. He wanted his hair stroked as gently as his friend had done. He wanted to be looked after.

➻ he is a switch through and through, but naturally bottom-leaning. sebastian enjoys sex in all its forms and will happily go with the flow; his main concern is that his partner is enjoying it, therefore he can fulfil whatever they desire. they like someone who is rough and can take charge? easy. they like someone who begs and whimpers for them? say less.

➻ his true nature unearths itself as he's about to come, though. no matter how the situation has been set up, as he gets closer to finishing he always becomes a brainless, whimpering mess. any kind of act or decorum leaves him and he's just chasing the pleasure.

➻ on that note, sebastian is vocal. he's not afraid to moan, or whine, or grunt, and he's not afraid to be loud. it comes naturally to him, even pleasuring himself, he has to exert effort to be quiet—which is part of the fun, really.

➻ further to this, he loves talking during sex. words of praise especially. if his partner likes degradation he can play the part, but he naturally leans towards mindless horny babble. "you look so good like that—fuck." "cannot believe how well you're taking my cock, just like that—ohfuckohfuckohfuck." "I'm so close, love—ngh—feels so good."

➻ he has this intoxicating quality of acting in disbelief every time he's intimate. it's like he can't quite believe how lucky he's gotten. his expression when looking at his partner is a mixture of a desire-addled haze and awe.

➻ this is where his 'bottom-leaning' side comes in. if he finds a partner that is happy to take charge, sebastian melts. when he doesn't have to think about his own pleasure, when the reins are taken out of his hands, so to speak, he turns into a raw, hot, mess.

➻ he likes having his nipples played with. he likes being called a 'good boy'. he likes being teased and edged until he's begging for it. "please, please, i wanna cum. i've been a good boy, please." he likes being pounded into the mattress until he can't think anymore. he finds it liberating.

➻ however, on the off occasion, sebastian likes doing the same to his partner. forgetting all the pre-tense and pouncing on them like an animal, bending them over and fucking them until they can't think. "merlin, you're taking me so well—just like that—mmh, so perfect."

➻ he's playful in bed too; cracking jokes, making innuendos. flirtatious until the second his partner's hand flies to his cock and every thought exits through his head like an open dam gate.

➻ his libido is also very high. after graduation when he and his partner are away from prying eyes, sex is almost a daily occurrence. from his teen years, sebastian has been one to wake up horny and go to bed horny; god help his lover who is now the subject of all those desires.

➻ all in all, sebastian is very easy with sex. he enjoys it, he finds it liberating, and most of all he loves the connection. he's devoted to his long-term partner and that devotion never strays. he wants only to please them, whatever form that may take.