so then I wrote this. Sam, you must write more ickle!Neville to fuel my woobies.
Pajamas With Snitches On
Harry knew things would be different when he moved in with Neville. Not that different, they'd shared a dormitory for years, but he suspected there'd be a lot more washing of the dishes than throwing them to the floor to shag on the table, that sort of thing.
He hadn't expected the pajamas. The ones with the Snitches on.
He was casually washing his hair in the shower when Neville came in to brush his teeth, and that's when he caught sight of them. He thought it was soap in his eyes, so he rinsed his head, then he thought it was the shower curtain, so he yanked it aside, but the pajamas still had Snitches on, darting about and brushing wings with each other.
"Neville," he said, smothering snickers, "why've you got pajamas with Snitches on?"
Neville turned and caught his eye, cheeks pink, but couldn't speak because his mouth was full of toothpaste. While he was turning back to the sink to spit, Harry slid out of the shower and pressed against Neville's back, heedless of his soaked status.
"Harry!" Neville protested. "You're dripping everywhere!"
"You've got pajamas with Snitches on," Harry repeated. He pressed fingertips against one, but felt only cloth, and the Snitch zipped back amongst its brothers teasingly.
"So what?" Neville said, but his neck was warming under Harry's chin, turning red like his cheeks. "You've got socks with Snitches on, haven't you?"
"Different," Harry insisted. He backed up half a step and let Neville squirm around to face him. "Why've you got pajamas with Snitches on?"
"I had a pair when I was little," Neville explained, going even redder still, "but Gran tossed them before I went to school. They were my favorites though, so I saw these and…"
Impatient with the way Neville's lips weren't doing anything but talking, Harry had started tracking one Snitch with his fingers as it zipped around Neville's shoulder. He tracked it steadily, not quite touching it, the whole way down Neville's chest, flicking buttons open as he went.
Harry made a grab for the Snitch as it leapt the gap between Neville's shirt and trousers and Neville's explanation cut off in a gasp as Harry missed entirely.
"You missed," Neville said huskily. "Some Seeker you are."
"Caught something better," Harry grunted, giving Neville a squeeze that had him grabbing for the edge of the sink. Harry slid down Neville, enjoying the slide of the soft flannel against his chilled skin. He tugged the pajamas just far enough down to free Neville, but left them high enough that the fabric rubbed against his cheek still when he covered Neville with his mouth.
Out of the corner of his slit eyes, Harry spotted the Snitch again, and even though there was really no distinguishing features, Harry was positive it was the same Snitch, hovering just out of reach as though it were curious what Harry was doing. Lips and tongue still driving Neville to distraction, Harry carefully raised the other hand, so slowly, right above the Snitch.
Making a lightning grab, Harry trapped the Snitch at last, twisting the fabric and pressing it against Neville's thigh so it had nowhere to escape. Humming in victory, Harry pressed his fingers harder against Neville's thigh and felt Neville's grip in his hair tighten just before he spilled over Harry's tongue.
Satisfied, even though he was completely hard, Harry untwisted his hand from Neville's pajamas and lazily watched the slightly creased Snitch wobble off to hide.
"Are you through harassing me about my pajamas?" Neville asked, voice content. Harry nuzzled the strip of skin right above his waistband.
"Not in the least," he answered. "I expect you to wear them every night till I'm through."
Out of Harry's sight, Neville grinned. He'd always known the way to keep a Quidditch player's attention was to stick balls all over his body.
And besides, he knew exactly where Harry hid his pajamas with frogs on.