Untitled, Harry, R-rated

I was feeling angsty. Feedback? (I don't know why I keep trying my hand at smut ...)




After the war there is time to mourn. After the war, ghosts return and haunt his every thought, be he awake or sleeping, slipping down into the core of his being and throwing him into hell. Before he had purpose. There was an enemy to defeat and a reason to keep on living; a reason to forget those that had already left him because he was fighting in their memory.

Now he wonders if the only reason he fought was for his sanity.

It’s not that he’s unhappy. Many people close to him did survive the war, and they’ve learned to move on and build lives for themselves. Fallen cities have risen again and the world is no longer a dark and dangerous place. This is a new world: one which he has crafted so carefully for the children of tomorrow, taking care to track down every last dark witch or wizard. It’s tiring work. And now, years after the end of the war, his work is no longer needed and he’s faded into the woodwork.

Faded away and become a ghost of his own past, a man of only twenty five with sallow skin and weary eyes. No one minds him now. Harry Potter, saviour of the world, lives on only in memorial plaques and idealistic speeches. He’s left alone for days and weeks, holed up in his townhouse with childhood’s ghosts as the only company.

His most frequent visitor is Cedric Diggory. The first to depart and the first to return, Cedric watches him for hours and hours, trailing him around the house in complete silence. At first it was easy to ignore. The others were louder, kicking over his rubbish bin and smashing glasses against his walls, all your fault, all your fault chanted endlessly in his ear as they carried out their mayhem. They disappeared sporadically. First it was Seamus who left, and then Ginny and Sirius. With them they took classmates and people whom Harry had never seen before, but who screamed at him regardless. Now it’s just Cedric. Still silent, still watching, opting to torture Harry different from the others.

Cedric was always different though. Special, Harry would even say, when he has downed one bottle too many and the ceiling begins to sway. As the room wobbles Cedric stands still. He’s unchanged, still a boy of seventeen, with broad shoulders and solemn grey eyes; noble and amiable, very good looking. Even now, he’s able to make Harry’s breath grow short and his cock strain in his trousers, but it’s all part of the torment, Harry reminds himself, as time after time Cedric merely observes. His facial expression doesn’t change the slightest when Harry wraps his fist around his cock, moaning at the handsome ghostly figure. Time and again he comes screaming Cedric’s name, but nothing breaks the silence.

So he’s surprised when one night, he feels the ghosting of hands on his thighs. He tries to look down, having already worked himself into quite a state, but all he sees is himself, swollen and needy, that same name gasped out through chapped lips.

Cedric.

Cedric.

It’s all he can do to grip the chair and spread his legs, feeling the silent brush of hands. He’s not sure what is happening and closes his eyes to the world, letting it spin out of his control and rush him closer to the edge. This is what he craves, after all, Cedric’s touch.

When he awakens in the morning there are bottles littered around him on the floor. He curls in on his body as the sunlight streaming through the window stings his eyes. The hand wrapped around his cock is his own.

Aww. It's so cute, in such an angsty way. (I think very few people are enough like me to find angsty smut cute, now that I think of it)

I like this. It flows, it works, and you seem a natural at this sort of thing. No stuttering at all. Except...

Where did this chair come from? Well, I guess you can just bring it in without introducing it, as you haven't been using much of a discriptive tone, and maybe it's just me, but "night" seems to imply "bed" for me. I suppose it's possible, but it's rather uncomfortable, you could say.

I don't think I'm capable of writing anything that will not be deemed "cute" by somebody ;p

Ah, the chair was just kind of there in my vision, lol. I'll see what I can do. Thanks for the feedback!

You're welcome~! Just doing my part.