Title: Priape's Wand
Author: [insanejournal.com profile] eaivalefay
Pairing: Snape/Harry
Summary: When he'd envisioned opening a sex shop this was not what he'd had in mind.
Rating: R
Warnings: Misuse of a sex shop, occasional implied kink.
Word Count: 2287
Notes: This is in answer to the bet [insanejournal.com profile] iulia_linnea and I made.
I would like to thank everyone for their support and encouragement, though this has probably turned out drastically different than everyone was expecting. *grin*
The title of the fic comes from a similarly named shop, based off of Priapus. I must thank [insanejournal.com profile] furor_scribiend immensely for her extensive knowledge of myth. And much love goes out to my wonderful beta, [insanejournal.com profile] stasia.
I had, and have, a lot of ideas for this particular fic that I didn't end up using---and how I wish I'd somehow managed it!

When he'd envisioned opening a sex shop, this was not what he'd had in mind.

Harry's thoughts lingered on that sentiment as he shooed the latest gaggle of girls out of the nipple accessories aisle and toward the door. One particularly red-faced girl dropped an Ever Long Dildo as her two friends formed a small, giggling orbit around her, dashing out of the shop with a last peek at Harry's menacing frown.

He watched as they made a beeline for another, larger group of teenaged hormones. The group burst into shrieks and giggles as they pulled the first blushing girl into the middle of their circle. In a flurry of motion and words, they made their way down the street toward the ice-cream parlor. Harry knew exactly what they were chattering about.

He sighed. This definitely was not what he'd intended---to be overrun by underaged, overly hormonal, curious teenaged kids every time one of their number was put to a dare.

No, not at bloody all. He thought, exhaustion overwhelming his face. What he'd imagined, even, dare he say, dreamed of was to dispel some of the Wizarding world's taboos on sexuality. He'd been under public speculation enough to realize early on that they reacted unpleasantly when faced with sexual awareness. It would be worth it all if he just managed to rid them of the entirely too embarrassed air they held such acts in. Harry wanted to show that it wasn't bad to be open to the sexual side of life.

In a moment of sheer brilliance---or at least he thought so---some four years ago, it occurred to him. Why not open a sex shop in the wizarding world?

He'd already considered and attempted several other ideas. He had taught at Hogwarts, the idea of teaching the youth appealing to him. That had lasted a semester, before the students drove him so utterly batty that he'd demanded Minerva release him from his contract.

Harry hadn't lasted two months when Fred and George talked him into being a not-quite-silent partner in their stores. Those two had driven Harry to travel. He'd have done anything to get away from the sounds of exploding experiments---he'd unknowingly given up his apartment to their projects when he'd agreed to their offer and he quickly learned why Molly was so edgy about it all. After traveling in the Muggle world for awhile, to "find himself" as Hermione put it, Harry once again attempted to teach, in the form of opening a defense class in Hogsmeade. After that endeavor, he'd made an oath to himself to never return to another classroom.

Harry had retired to being a homebody after that, quietly debating his choices. He wanted to do something with his life. When all was said and done, killing a dark lord just didn't take up as much time as most would assume.

Finally, after months of seclusion---and one too many snippy remarks from his lover about his "continuous state of idle existence"---an idea occurred to him. It was most certainly shocking enough. Something to make a splash. Something that would force people to take notice. Force people to think about things.

It was so utterly crazy it had to work. It was worth a shot at least, considering nothing else panned out.

It had been done before, Hermione was quick to point out when he first mentioned it. (It was during one of those conversations he'd come to expect from her. It was the "Harry, what are you going to do with your life? You can't wander around aimlessly forever!" conversation he'd received every Wednesday, when Neville talked him into coming for dinner.) Harry smirked slightly at the memory, pulling open a box of Long Wand Dildos that needed to be shelved. There had been a few shops that had discreet "toys for adults" sections, and even one or two stores solely dedicated to the art of sexual gratification. They had all been places located in the seedier parts of the wizarding world: Knockturn Alley being a prime example. No respectable witch or wizard would visit such a place, neither location or shop. Certainly, no agencies would advertise the stores, as Harry well knew from his shop's early days.

When he'd first opened the doors of Priape's Wand, there had been outcries from the inhabitants and newspapers of the Wizarding world before everyone fell oddly silent. They were trying to quietly ignore the fact that his shop existed. Harry didn't know if he felt more amused or frustrated.

It was hard for the populace to ignore a sex shop placed right in the middle of Wizarding Britain's nerve center, Diagon Alley. Harry had bought out a business going under, Gambol and Japes, right between The Magical Menagerie and Volaine's Robes & Accessories.

Ron's exact words when Harry told him he'd bought the shop had been, "Blimey, Harry." And he'd laughed, "Mate, this is the most stupid thing you'd ever done. Can you wait to tell Hermione until I'm there? I want to see her face when she finds out."

His lover's response hadn't been much different than Ron's, much to Harry's amusement. Severus had rolled his eyes, "Harry, this is the most typically Gryffindor act I've ever had the misfortune of seeing you perform. Now stop turning that jar about. You're mixing the entrails."

'I suppose it is one of the gaudier moves I've ever made.' Harry admitted to himself 'It was Gryffindor in that way.'

Hermione's only response had been a soft sigh, followed quickly by a crooked smile, "You always have to make a statement, don't you, Harry?"

Glory and history making movements were hardly what he ended up managing. His shop, and his place in the community---after much screaming and threats of torching the building (to which Harry answered by putting up as many fire-repellent charms as he could find)---had been slowly accepted. On most days, it seemed that all Harry ended up doing was dealing with alarmingly idiotic questions from customers ("should I apply the lube before or after I put it in?") and unruly teenagers. Harry wondered if his lover wasn't perhaps rubbing off on him a bit too much. He hazily recalled a time when he still liked dealing with other people.

His favorite times in his shop were when he had dealings with the average---if occasionally embarrassed---customer. They seemed to be increasingly rare.

Overall it ended up being quite mundane and a tad aggravating. That label applied to his shop and, however ironically, his current sex life. Harry did learn far more than he ever wanted to know about other people's sex lives. It was somewhat depressing.

No, running a sex shop wasn't what everyone seemed to imagine it to be, when they first found out about his job. ("You do what for a living? It must be pretty...exciting. ...are you seeing anyone? I'm single, you know.")

Harry tore open box of self-tightening corsets to be stocked, setting out the delicate-looking material. They were quite a popular item. He knew for a fact that each female member of the Weasley clan---by blood or law---had at least two. And Charlie definitely had one hidden at the back of his wardrobe. After the last box's contents was shelved he headed into the back room, grabbing his clipboard so he could begin inventorying the latest shipment.

'And it's all Severus' fault we're short-staffed.' He thought. Harry found himself increasingly irritated with his lover lately. He firmly told himself it was because Snape was an idiotic, self-centered, sharp-tongued bastard who kept scaring the store's clerks away when he stopped in during lunch---and who also happened to never be home anymore. He very firmly told himself it wasn't because they hadn't had sex in six weeks.

He pulled the nearest box open, checking its contents. It was a new shipment of Do-It-All Dolls, the Wizarding world's version of inflatable sex dolls. Harry pulled one out of its packaging curiously and watched it 'inflate'. This wasn't a toy he and Severus ever experimented with before, though they'd tested out a wide variety of the store's items---to ensure quality, of course.

It was a featureless form? 'That can't be right.' Harry frowned, grabbing up the box. "To activate, concentrate on what you wish your partner to look like and speak the charmed code-word." He read aloud. "You've got to be kidding me." He sighed and closed his eyes, mind concentrating on the one body he'd really enjoy shagging right about now as he whispered the code.

He opened his eyes slowly and breathed in at the startling resemblance to---was that entirely legal? A hazy part of his minded wanted to know. 'Who cares?' Another corner of his mind supplied.

In the right light---ignoring the fact that the doll was not breathing---Harry would swear he was staring at Severus. He ran his hands lightly over the doll's bare chest, feeling as though he was in a trance, tracing fingers over his nipples and watching as they hardened. A shiver ran through the doll's body.

"I would suggest, next time you wish to dip into a little experimentation," A deep, familiar voice said softly, "that you lock the door."

"Severus. . ." Harry's eyes slid shut. His breathing was a little too quick as he tried to pull himself together. He didn't even try moving to face Severus yet. "You said you weren't stopping by today." Harry heard the soft rustle of robes as he moved further into the room, the door snicking shut behind him.

Severus knelt down behind Harry, arms sliding around his waist. Lips pressed right below Harry's ear as he murmured, "If I knew this is what you chose to do when I don't come, I would tell you that every day."

"Actually, this is the first time I've ever viewed a doll before." He slid an arm back around Severus' neck. "You just have impeccably shoddy timing."

"If you'd like me to go. . ." Harry felt the smirk against his neck as Severus' long fingers sliding under the T-shirt he wore.

"Well, now that you're here, it'd be a shame to waste such a fine opportunity." Harry groaned. "And if you bloody well try walking out before we're both sweaty and exhausted you can sleep on the couch tonight."

Severus tried to lean back, but Harry's arm held firmly around his neck. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Do you think I haven't noticed?" Harry huffed, turning to give Severus a half-frustrated, half-incredulous stare.

"Noticed what?" He glared.

"Our lack of sex!"

Severus blinked slowly. "That's your fault." He said finally.

"My fault?" Harry scowled, "My fault? Your not being home these last two months is my fault?"

"You're the one who hasn't been home, Harry." Severus gave him an amused look before leaning in to capture his mouth. The kiss was slow and sensual, and Harry almost forgot they were having a disagreement.

"I'm still mad," He muttered several minutes later as he straddled Severus' lap, hands curling in his dark robes. "Because there is no possible way this is all my fault."

"If you had a few more clerks around here we wouldn't be having this discussion." Severus panted. "As well, we could be doing this more often." Hands unzipped his jeans, tugging them down Harry's hips.

Harry stared at him in amazement, "excuse me, but my lack of clerical aid is entirely your fault, you arro---oh. Yesss. Do that again." Harry pressed his hips forward into the teasing hand. "I-i think---"

A bell chimed softly from a corner of the room, indicating that someone was waiting at the checkout desk. Harry cursed loudly as Severus' movements stilled.

"Why do your customers consistently have foul timing?"

"That wouldn't matter if you stopped scaring all of my staff away." Harry muttered, hiding his face against Severus' neck. "Let's ignore it."

"I can't be faulted because they didn't know a joke when they heard one." Severus chuckled and gently pushed Harry off his lap. "Considering the fact that this is all to blame on you, I am enjoying the idea of you suffering out there."

"Bastard." Harry stood, shaking fingers closing his jeans.

Severus offered him a set of robes. "To hide the evidence." He smirked.

"Bloody bastard." He pulled the robes on as the bell chimed more urgently.

"You should add this doll to the 'staff picks' section." He suggested as Harry headed for the door. Harry shot him a curious look, but Severus spoke before he could ask why. "I'm aware we didn't use it---yet---but it, in its fashion, reunited us. It deserves some credit for that.

"Aside from that," He added as Harry rolled his eyes with a small grin, "It is a decent resemblance"

"Bloody, arrogant bastard." Harry muttered as he yanked the door open. A young wizard jumped at the noise and Harry moved to stand behind the front desk.

"Is there something I can help you with?" He inquired politely.

"I... Ah---Were you just... Never mind, I-I wanted to purchase these...items, but can I have them delivered by owl?" The man frowned uncertainly, "It can be delivered discreetly, can't it? Only, a friend said..."

Harry smiled as he launched into the Plain Brown Wrapper Promise, explaining that every owl delivery was carefully wrapped in undistinguished brown paper to ensure discretion. He couldn't hear it, but he knew Severus was stalking around the employees' office, setting lunch out on one of the small tables.

The day was turning out to be another normal day, and it was about time. Six weeks was just too bloody long.

Tomorrow, he was going to take out a new ad for shop clerks in the paper.


eaivalefay: (Default)

dreaming memories

What you can do with your life has little to do with what's going on in the world and everything to do with what you see as possible.

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