Challenge Entry

Title: Start Me Up
Author: judas_iscariot
Artist: hill_
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Severus Snape/Bill Weasley/Draco Malfoy
Length: 4,038 words or something like that.
Disclaimer: I actually understand that these do very little legally. But I also think that it would be respectful to note that these characters and ideas have been borrowed from J.K. Rowling, and do not belong to me.
Archive: No clue what policies hp_synergy has for this, so I’ll just say contact me at a later date if you’re still interested.
Warnings: Somewhat questionable consent, tons of kink, and homosexuality, obviously, heh- oh, and HBP spoilers.
Kinks: Bondage, ties, house ties, cross dressing, boys in eyeliner, fishnets, and breathplay.
Author's notes: I give a heart felt thanks to the ladies of vanillaskyychat, you are my inspiration, my wives, and foremost my dearest friends. And wow- what complete PWP- it makes absolutely no sense, I admit it. Also, the title was stolen from The Rolling Stones, I quite obviously don’t own that either, I’m just an ardent fan. On the advice of hill_, I'm just going to post this in hp_synergy anyways, since I have no idea what is going on with my partner. Maybe someone will be inclined to illustrate it, but I'm not going to hold my breath. *snickers* It's absolutely terrible. *cough*
Author's Dedication/s/: I absolutely dedicate my half to hill_ (who is an absolute sweetheart) and son_of_darkness as well for running the challenge. You guys have a lot more meddle than I do.



To this day, Bill isn't certain exactly what drew his attention- it could have been a number of things. It was also just as likely that he would have never noticed a thing, and carried on with business as usual. But as it happened, he ended up in the right place, at the right time, with the right person- or the wrong one, depending on your point of view.

The land where the market was hosted was littered liberally with every type of refuse imagined. Dirty cups, abandoned newspapers, rotting produce as well as a number of other things were sprawled as far as the eye could see, tainting the scenery just beyond. The streets were stripped of pavement, save a few sparse patches here and there in front of the cluttered stalls.

Determined to get in and out as quickly as possible, Bill adeptly side-stepped one of the large puddles of muck and mire that had gathered after a recent storm. He weaved his way through the large throng of people who had gathered around the multitude of stalls, his face slightly pinched and drawn. The entire market place reeked of rot and decay, and the rain had only made the scent poignantly sharp. The wind was rather strong that day, and as it picked up he winced slightly as he caught a pungent waft of molding hay and pig shit.

Unfazed, he pressed forward, delving further into the epicenter of the market. He garnered a fair share of interest from the natives, in spite of the fact that they were use to a diverse group of people flowing into their home town- this was the only open market for miles around. Some were openly shocked by his appearance, even though he had toned down his usual mode of dress to blend in better. He wasn't naive, he knew that the scars he boasted alone were enough to catch the eye of anyone, but it seemed as if they were more of a novelty than usual for this set of people.

Blessedly, only simple curiosity graced the features of a great number of the older generations, providing some respite from the otherwise gawking masses. At times he felt as if he were in a fish bowl, on display for the benefit and general amusement of others. This was not the first time he had been the recipient of such dubious regard, so it didn't bother him nearly as much as it once had. No one seemed intent enough- or perhaps it was brave enough to approach him without merit or purpose, so he was able to maneuver his way around without being accosted.

He ignored quite a number of the stalls after a fleeting look at the wares they offered, drowning out the beckoning calls of the hawkers attempting to sell. Walking around a group of people gathered around a particularly popular vendor, he narrowly avoided collision with a sturdily built farmer who was also attempting to pass by. Bowing briefly in apology to the man, he paused to get a sense of where he was.

The sharp rise of a voice abruptly grated at his ears as some discontent local gave protest to the wares of a random stall. Eye twitching slightly, he tried to block out the tone of the customer's voice as it rapidly ascended even further than before, but completely and utterly failed. He reluctantly turned to see what was spurring the person to such high levels of agitation, bracing himself as he did so.

A tall woman with long white blonde hair was defiantly facing down a stall keeper, her hands set firmly upon her hips. The decisive words and firm stance drew his attention, persuading him to draw closer to get a better view of the altercation. As he rounded the corner a sharp, angular face came into view, along with piercingly sharp grey eyes. Bill could almost imagine that he saw the fire of righteous indignation light her eyes and she laid into the shop keeper without mercy.

He almost felt sorry for the poor chap, but kept completely silent. As he watched, a dawning sense of recognition came upon him, like a vague memory of long ago. The woman seemed eerily familiar, as if he knew her from somewhere before. A frown creased the ridge of his brow as he became increasingly perplexed by the puzzle presented and attempted to gather his scattered thoughts.

He sorted slowly through his thoughts, trying to figure out why the woman triggered that sort of reaction. He absentmindedly mused that she looked vaguely like Narcissa Malfoy, but his mind didn't really register that thought because his mind was racing a mile a minute. His mind went in circles for several moments, selecting and discarding various ideas as they went further and further off track. While tracing a seemingly unrelated path, it suddenly struck him that the "woman's" hips were a little too narrow, her chest far too flat and her features, although androgynous, had a slightly greater male edge to them.

His heartbeat slowed only to start racing madly as he realized that this could only be Draco Malfoy. If he was correct, the ramifications of this discovery alone were staggering. He forced himself to be calm, reasoning that he had to confirm his suspicions before he acted. The irony of the situation struck a chord of intense amusement in him- Draco Malfoy haggling over prices in a low class open market like a common fish wife! He quickly smothered the grin and laughter that accompanied those thoughts and smoothed out his expression, pretending to examine the goods in the stall next to Malfoy. He watched from the corner of his eye as the cowed vendor attempted to appease his customer.

After a severe reduction in the price of the produce and a series of apologies from the seller, Malfoy grudgingly doled out the appropriate amount of money to the man and stalked off.

Bill continued to pretend to browse around several moments longer, before turning to slowly tail after Malfoy. He carefully maintained as much distance as he possibly could without losing the other man. They wound their way through seemingly random streets, alleys and alcoves, before they reached the outer limits of the town. Bill paused briefly, a sense of uneasiness sweeping through him. Something about this seemed off- it was almost too easy, almost too good to be true. He didn't know Malfoy that well, if at all, but knew that the boy was no idiot. It didn't make sense that Malfoy seemed to be taking no precautions against being followed, particularly since he knew that there were Aurors on his trail.

In spite of his sense of self-preservation screaming at him to go the other way, his Gryffindor side spurred him to go after Malfoy.

About five minutes later, after the town had completely vanished from view, he felt the hair on his neck bristle stiffly in warning. He was given absolutely no time to think as the hastily spitted out spell of an unseen foe impacted fully against him, causing him to black out completely.



As the dense fog of unconsciousness began to slowly lift from his mind, he distantly heard a low drawling voice. He strained to hear what the person was saying, and made out the last few words of the sentence: "...but then again, one can't expect anything more from a Weasley."

Although he felt intensely lethargic and was just vaguely cognizant, he bristled inwardly at the sentiment. Fighting to pull himself together, he attempted to focus but wasn't able to precisely carry it out as planned. The best he managed was taking in the words of the other man, and wasn't able to connect a face to it.

"Do attempt to stay alert Mr. Weasley, I'd prefer that you were fully conscious and aware of what is about to occur- otherwise it is all rather pointless, don't you agree?" purred the man. Bill tried to form the words to contradict the man, but they eluded him completely.

He was finally able to gain some level of awareness and tried to shift his body into a more comfortable position. To his dismay, his legs and arms seemed unwilling to co-operate. Or rather, he discovered, they could not- his arms and legs were tied securely together, severely limiting his ability to even stretch, much less move any great distance. He twisted his head to take a look at his captor and scowled deeply.

It was no great surprise to find Snape leaning imperiously against the arm of a nearby chair; it was even less of one to find Draco sprawled indolently across the chair itself. He adopted an expressionless look and regarded them with shuttered eyes. It would be futile and insulting to both parties for him to ask why they were doing this, so he settled for simply waiting it out. There wasn't much else he could do at this point.

"Who knows that you are here?" Snape asked, abruptly breaking the silence.

Bill stared at them evenly, weighing his options. "No one," he grudgingly admitted. Snape's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. There was no point in asking if Bill had informed anyone that Malfoy and Snape were here- there hadn't been enough time for him to do so.

Malfoy slowly rose from the chair and sauntered closer to Bill. He seemed unconcerned by Bill's brief perusal of his person and with a hand on his hip came to a stop a foot away from him. He idly noted that the boy had changed out of the decidedly more respectable clothes he wore earlier, into a short black skirt and matching fishnet stockings and top. The top itself revealed that Draco was clearly not a female, but the skirt and stockings leant him a feminine air if someone caught a glance of him through a window or from a distance.

Without warning, Malfoy seated himself fully across Bill's lap, resting his palms on either side of the other man's face. Bill wouldn't admit it, but the sight of those cool grey eyes staring so intently into his own un-nerved him more than he thought possible. Against his will, he flinch ever so slightly, betraying his uneasiness. This seemed to amuse the blonde, because he grinned smugly before leaning towards Bill. The steady expulsion of warm, moist air against his neck spurred a warning shot of adrenaline through his system. He could almost feel the soft lips of the boy against his neck, but Malfoy carefully kept them just barely out of reach.

He was completely on edge, his body held stiff with tension as he waited for Malfoy to make his next move. After what seemed like several very long minutes, Malfoy slowly pulled away. Upon pain of death, Bill would never admit this- but he had felt a sharp pang of disappointment when the blond did nothing, as if he had been robbed of something.

Malfoy then managed to thoroughly surprise him by pulling a dagger out of the sleeve of his coat. Apprehensively he waited for a blow that never came. Instead, he was greeted with the sensation of cloth stretched against his skin as the boy carefully sliced open his attire. In the blink of an eye he was completely nude and on display for the benefit of Malfoy and Snape. To his complete and utter humiliation, it was easily apparent that he was aroused.

He felt completely bared- it went beyond such a simple matter of clothing to the fact that he hadn't allowed anyone close enough to see just how deeply Fenrir had scarred him. Fenrir was, if anything, very thorough- he had made certain to mark every centimeter of Bill's skin. He expected them to take the opportunity to dig at him in everyway they could, especially Snape, but they both remained silent. A hoarse cry suddenly forced its way between his lips as Draco ground himself fully into Bill's lap. He just barely restrained himself from bucking up to make sensations sharper.

The blond tossed back his head slightly and gave Bill a satisfied smirk. He knew the boy could tell that he was lingering on the edge, so close to losing control that he was shaking slightly. His mind rebelled against being defeated so easily by a boy nearly half his age. How could one so young create such a deep impact? It made no sense, no sense at all.

He cried out in pained arousal as the boy latched onto the patch of flesh just barely an inch away from his jugular. He was surprised, yet somehow not, that the boy apparently knew one of his greatest weaknesses.

"I never took you as a screamer, Weasley," Malfoy practically purred in his ear, before slipping his hands down the flanks of the older man.

Bill couldn't help but revel in the sensation of those smooth, un-calloused hands
across his skin. He stifled a rising moan, forcing it down into his diaphragm. The result was an odd sounding rumble that reverberated through his entire frame. He could sense Malfoy's amusement at his expense, but that knowledge was abruptly tossed out of his head as deft fingers insinuated themselves around the length of his cock. Malfoy had shifted to allow himself greater access to Bill's body, taking full advantage of his bound state.

The blond slowly stroked Bill's cock to full arousal, devoting a surprising amount of attention to learning precisely what made the red head tick. He grew impatient under the onslaught and shifted continuously, as if attempting to grasp something just beyond his reach. Bill stared at the kohl-lined eyes of Malfoy, who seemed to be focusing intently on his lap and what his hands were doing. He followed the boy's gaze and made a guttural, choked sound.

Just as quickly as Malfoy's ministrations began, they ceased. He removed himself from Bill's lap and stood up straight. The blond grabbed a suspicious looking bottle of syrupy liquid off a near by table and removed the lid, drizzling a fair amount of it onto his hands. His hands disappeared beneath the short fringe of the skirt, leaving no doubt about what Malfoy was doing. Somehow the fact that he couldn't see what the cocky little brat was doing made it more erotic.

He nearly forgot Snape in the heat of the moment but he was thrown sharply into focus as Bill realized that the other man could see everything Malfoy was doing. He expected Snape's gaze to be somewhat heated, his breath a little shorter or his eyes dilated, but the man was coolly composed and regal. It unnerved him that even though Snape had to be viewing a wildly sensual scene, he showed no sign of arousal.

His heart skipped an uncomfortable beat as his blue eyes locked with cold black ones. They glinted briefly with what Bill assumed was cruelly amused laughter, before it bled away into the depths of onyx orbs. He couldn't force himself to look away no matter how hard he tried. It almost seemed as if he were hypnotized- which was a foolish and silly idea. Snape couldn't possibly know what he was thinking and it just had to be his imagination working on overtime.

He was drawn out of his reverie as the brat returned to perch himself on Bill's lap. Oddly cool hands, slicked with that liquid, slid easily over his length, coating it liberally. He wasn't given much warning as Malfoy lowered himself and slowly sank down on Bill's cock. The blonde’s eyes fluttered briefly and he moaned hoarsely, burying his face into the crook of Bill's shoulder.

Bill shuddered, and strained against the ties that held him down. The little bit of slack that the ropes allowed him was used to maneuver himself into a position where he could weakly thrust up to meet the boy's rising and falling bottom. They somehow managed to establish an odd, offbeat sort of rhythm that wasn't perfect by far, but seemed to satisfy them both none the less.

Malfoy steadily impaled himself, his hips rising and falling. Bill could tell in spite of his haze-filled brain that the brat was edging closer and closer to the edge. Before he was able to think beyond that, Snape seemed to grow impatient with their awkward movements and pulled the blond off of Bill's lap, completely unseating him. Malfoy surprisingly did not protest, but Bill couldn't resist a muffled growl of displeasure.

Snape ignored his response and allowed the brat to drop to his knees several feet away. "Straighten your back, hands behind your back, stare at the wall," Snape ordered brusquely. "If you touch yourself, you'll regret it," he promised with a rolling purr.

To the red head's absolute shock, Malfoy actually listened to the sharply authoritative tone of voice and quickly followed Snape's orders. He wasn't given long to ponder the wonder of it as Snape swiftly made his way over to the chair where the red head was bound. He picked up the knife that Malfoy had dropped at some point, but Bill merely stared at him with a vague sense of uneasiness. If Snape was going to kill him, he would have done it a long time ago.

The other man ran the blade through the top three layers of ropes that bound him, carefully avoiding the ones around his hands. "If you attempt to escape, I guarantee that you will learn precisely why it is not wise to cross me," he warned. He didn't wait for Bill to agree- apparently believing it was a given- and pulled firmly on the now loose ropes. He then tossed them in a nearby corner without a second glance, his attention entirely devoted to his prisoner.

As he was forced to his feet, Bill swayed uneasily as blood flowed back into his extremities. With a sadistically amused snort, Snape finally reached out and steadied him before he hit the cold stone floor. He roughly shoved him several feet more until they came to a stop in front of an old-fashioned muggle stove that had obviously not been in use for years.

Snape awkwardly maneuvered his hands, contorting his body until they were in front of him. He then pulled a spare set of ropes from the depths of one of the numerous pockets of his robes and proceeded to tie Bill's hands to the base of the stove. It left the red head in an odd position of being half on his side, but Bill still wasn't entirely uncomfortable.

Snape harshly barked at Malfoy, urging him closer. The blond remained silent, but seemed to know exactly what Snape wanted him to do. He slipped underneath the front of Bill's slightly twisted forward front and carefully positioned the red head's cock at his entrance.

His penis easily slipped into the well-oiled orifice, and in spite of himself he began a teasingly slow series of thrusts within the brat's body. He tensed midway through one such motion as long cool digits slicked with oil slipped into his own entrance. He tilted his head to one side, angling to get a better look, although he knew exactly what was going on. Snape was efficiently, albeit a bit roughly, preparing his body to be taken. A small part of him wanted to protest, but he fell silent and involuntarily slammed into Malfoy as a slim finger brushed against his prostate. This wasn't the first time he'd been fucked by a man and it wouldn't be the last time, so he might as well enjoy it since it would happen whether he wanted it to or not. After all, things couldn't get much stranger than they already were, could they?

Without warning, Snape replaced his fingers with his cock and rotated his hips so that he could pump as hard as possible into Bill's waiting body. This in turn drove Bill into Malfoy who let out a fevered moan and without warning bit into Snape's arm resting near his head. Snape let out a low hiss, but did not reprimand the brat. If anything, it motivated the other man to speed up the pace and everything abruptly melted into a blur of fucking and being fucked as well as the absolute pleasure caused by both. The sensations nearly overwhelmed Bill in their intensity, stealing his breath and causing him to sputter briefly in search of it.

He wasn't given long to do so though, because Snape had somehow managed to keep his thoughts in order and pulled out a Slytherin tie from only Circe knows where. Snape carefully wrapped the silk fabric around Bill's neck, not faltering once in the rhythm he had established. Bill opened his mouth to vehemently protest, but the words caught in his throat as Snape tightened the silk tie around his neck. He attempted to gasp for breath, but came up short, barely able to draw in more than a scant bit.

He should have been frightened- terrified really- but for some reason he couldn't name he was not. He had rarely allowed his dearest of lovers this sort of play- yet here his enemy was, taking the utmost liberties with his person. He forced himself to be calm, knowing that it would be easier to do so than fight against it. His half-hearted reluctance didn't seem to make much difference to his mind or body as he felt himself drown in the sensation of being breathless. Everything was so much more sharp, nearly excruciatingly so. He bucked harder against Malfoy, rapidly growing closer to climax.

He felt Snape reach around him to stroke the hard length of Malfoy's cock with his free hand. In what seemed like seconds, Snape had the brat moaning and writhing until the blond finally gave in and climaxed abruptly. The feel of the brat's passage contracting around his cock combined with the pressure of the tie around his neck ensured that not long after Bill followed suit and came hard.

Even while in the aftermath of orgasm, he fought against the darkness at the corner of his mind, but knew he was going to succumb. Snape still hadn't released the firm grip he had on the tie looped tightly around Bill's neck and was increasing his grip as he strove to reach his own release.

Just as Snape finally spilled his seed into Bill's body, he lost the battle. Unconsciousness nibbled at the corners of his mind as the vaguely warm sensation of Snape's release hit him, and he blacked out hard.




Bill woke up several hours later, haphazardly positioned in a pile of rancid smelling hay. It took several minutes for him to acclimate himself and get a grasp on exactly where he was. Unlike last time, he was not drugged, and hence was relieved to find that his thoughts were essentially clear and unfettered. He gave a tired sigh and plopped into a reclining position against a bale of hay. Today had been a long day, he noted idly, shifting his sore body until he was comfortable.

He heard rather than felt the crinkle of paper underneath his back, and weakly pulled it out from behind him.


Weasley,
You might be rightfully wondering why.


You came to us. It‘s as simple as that.

With a snort of laughter, he flung himself back onto the pile of hay, more amused than insulted, as he expected was intended.