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Jun. 19th, 2010 12:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grrgoylTitle: Night Magic
Author/Artist:grrgoyl
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None. This is probably the most vanilla NC-17 you'll ever read.
Disclaimer: I wouldn't be working two jobs if I were JK Rowling. No infringement or disrespect intended, not a dime being made off these characters.
Summary: Hogwarts' favorite son has returned. Severus couldn't care less. Really, he couldn't.
A/N: I'm a long-time reader and admirer of many Snarry fics. I thought I'd try my hand at one. The experience was much harder than expected and has given me a new-found respect for authors. Also I hate this title but try as I might couldn't think of another.
Severus Snape opened his eyes slowly. It was still dark but he could see well enough by the dying embers of the fireplace. His memory returned and he cursed himself for all kinds of fool.
He was sleeping naked, not his usual state in the chilly dungeons. Something else unusual about his situation was the fact that he was sharing his bed with someone else. Not just anyone else, but a man. And not just any man, but Harry bloody Potter. He closed his eyes again and tried to retrace his steps.
A huge feast was planned to welcome the returning hero to Hogwarts. The Boy Who Lived had become the Man Who Fulfilled His Destiny. That was a few years ago, but after defeating Voldemort Harry had decided to take a much deserved vacation and see the world. Now, having returned to England, he was offered and had accepted the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Who else on the planet was more qualified? So the banquet was scheduled to welcome Harry home.
Headmistress McGonagall had subtly but sternly made it clear that attendance was not optional in a manner that would have made Albus proud. It was only to be the faculty and some of the alumni who knew Harry, but the Great Hall was prepared with the most extravagant decorations, as if for the Yule Ball. Snape scowled when he was invited because that was expected, but if he were to be perfectly honest with himself, he was extremely curious to see what the boy had made of himself in the intervening years, though he'd sooner take the Mark again than admit that to anyone.
Harry Potter. How he had tried to forget that face. He found it easy to hate when Potter was just a child, another burgeoning James come back like a ghost to torment Snape for seven more years. He had only to look into those bespectacled eyes and all his miserable lonely days as an outcast schoolboy, memories he had long since put behind him, were instantly resurrected in a flash. The taunting, the pranks, the humiliation: it was relentless. He hated James and his worthless friends for stealing his childhood, and he hated his son for having this power over him, whether he realized it or not.
But then Potter began to grow up. And although he had certainly inherited his father's penchant for ignoring rules, what was missing was the cockiness, the rowdiness, the constant effort to be the center of attention. Snape could see these things were lacking, but continued treating the boy as if they weren't. He hoped the desire to prove Snape wrong would override Potter's flawed genetics. And, admittedly, it was quite a rush to exert authority over the son that he never had over the father, even if it was at times a gross abuse of his position.
Over the years, whether by Snape's doing or for some other reason, young Potter gradually became the best of both his parents: he had the boyish, innocent good looks of his dad and the quiet thoughtfulness and sensitivity of his mum, not to mention her startling green eyes. These things also did not escape Snape's notice. He would catch himself staring at the boy across the Great Hall at meals, finding it more and more difficult to tear his eyes away. Fortunately Potter seemed too wrapped up in his own affairs to ever catch him doing this. Snape left off bullying him in class, not wholly trusting his true motivation for wanting to give him detention. And with good reason, for that was approximately the time the dreams started, and Snape knew then that he was lost. Every night without fail he would be visited by a green-eyed incubus and all too eagerly end up entwined in those lithe agile limbs, pressed against that smooth muscled body, until he had to start taking a Dreamless Draught or else risk his very sanity.
Severus Snape did not make it a habit to lust after his students, but he was nothing if not a realistic man; and the reality was, he desperately wanted Harry Potter.
Snape arrived a bit later to the party than he had planned. He had spent far too much time selecting which robes to wear, as if anyone would look him at all with Harry Potter in the room. He considered a set of velvet green dress robes that he knew looked exquisitely rich, but decided someone might get the impression that he was trying too hard. He snorted at himself in the mirror, at the unfamiliar sensation of worrying about what someone else thought of him. He settled instead on his usual black but with a brocade border of a cleverly woven serpent design, subtle but more elegant than his dingy everyday school garb. He smoothed down his hair one last time, exhaled slowly and made his way to the Great Hall.
Almost everyone else was already there it seemed, except the guest of honour himself. Typical. No respect for other people, the brat, Snape caught himself thinking, but stopped. Old habits died hard. Snape reminded himself that Potter hadn't been a selfish little boy for some time now, if in fact he ever was. He endured the obligatory greetings of his colleagues, and then took the opportunity to ensconce himself near the back of the room, his usual spot, the better to observe without being observed. Old habits really did die hard.
It wasn't hard to guess when Potter finally did arrive. A palpable thrill spread through the assembly even before he stepped through the double doors, where he was immediately set upon by a knot of people. Everyone got to their feet, their glasses raised in a toast. This included Snape, although in his case it was more for the purpose of catching a glimpse through the throng of fawning fans of the spirit of his dreams made solid.
As if by a spell, the crowd suddenly parted and Snape's mouth went dry. Potter was...devastating. There was no other word. He had filled out nicely while maintaining his lean Seeker's build. He had grown a few inches but would never be tall. His shoulders were broader, his clothes better fitting, his stride a little longer. He exuded casual confidence without arrogance. And if his eyes shone not as brightly or if his smile appeared not as wide, well, five years of war with the Dark Lord had taken its toll on them all.
Snape sat down abruptly, his heart thudding loudly in his chest, as he drank in the sight of him. The sight of Harry, for in that instant in his mind he had ceased being Potter.
The party seemed interminable, although from Snape's perspective every party was. He dutifully made inane small talk, hating every second of it, but reluctant to leave as long as Harry was there. He watched out of the corner of his eye as he made the rounds, performing the celebrity's role with a practiced ease that Snape almost admired.
It was in the middle of a nearly tolerable conversation with Professor Sinistra that Snape turned suddenly and came face to face with the young man. The Potions master pulled up short, a little startled.
"Hello, Professor Snape," he said, smiling uncertainly.
This close, the first thing he noticed was that Harry was only half a head shorter than himself. The next was that his original impression about his eyes not shining as brightly was quite mistaken. Or was he mistaken now, imagining those eyes shining for him? Severus, when DID you become such a fumbling idiot? You're practically mooning over the boy. Man, he corrected himself yet again.
Smoothing his robes imperceptibly, he straightened to his full height. "Mr. Potter. You're looking...well."
"Thank you sir. I must admit I'm surprised to see you here. Though not surprised you'd spend the entire night brooding in the corner," he added.
Snape sniffed disdainfully. "I was not brooding. I was observing. Though I suppose from your vantage point in the spotlight it all looks the same. And don't flatter yourself. Surely you must have realized my presence here has more to do with the headmistress than with you." There. He felt satisfied that his walls were safely back in place.
At least he did until to his shock Harry laughed goodnaturedly. "Yes, I suspected she might have had a hand in it. Well, it's good to see some things never change around here."
Snape stared down his nose in disbelief. Not only because he had failed to get a rise out of the boy (man), but because of the way that laughter had made him feel. There was no cruelty in it, no ill will. It was a companionable laugh, one almost of friendship. But Snape and Potter weren't friends. Were they?
When Snape made no reply, he went on. "So it looks like we're going to be colleagues again. Though in somewhat happier circumstances."
"I suppose we are," Snape agreed guardedly.
"In that case I was wondering if I should start calling you Severus, or is it still to be Professor?"
He appeared to ponder the question, while on the inside quelling his thoroughly irrational reaction to Harry's apparent desire to be on more personal terms with him. "You may use whatever name with which you are the most comfortable."
"Well, when you put it that way, I'm most comfortable with 'greasy git,' but I doubt that would look very professional to the students," he said with a smirk. Snape stiffened at the well-worn insult. The imagined camaraderie had been just that, and here he was, the butt of a joke yet again. Old fool. You walked right into that one. But after a few seconds he realized that Harry's smile was warm and genuine rather than mocking and that, unbelievably, he was having him on. Well, he could always give as good as he got.
"And you? May I call you Harry or will you answer to 'insolent whelp' as well?" He spoke without rancour, though he couldn't quite bring himself to return the smile.
"Severus it is, then," Harry laughed again. "I was hoping you'd see it my way."
If he had thought he was gobsmacked before, that was nothing compared to how he felt next. Harry, noticing that they were alone, leaned forward suddenly to murmur near his ear, "Actually Severus, I really am glad you came tonight. I've wanted to talk to you for..."
Snape would never know how that sentence would have ended, as just then a group of wildly giggling young women from Harry's graduating class appeared out of nowhere and bore Harry off. If Snape's frustration was mirrored in Harry's eyes it was only for a moment, and then the Golden Boy's mask slid back into place, always willing to please his fans. Snape's patience, however, had a much shorter limit and it had been surpassed. With his trademark billowing of robes, he turned on his heel and stalked off to the solitude of his dungeons, where he told himself he would have been happier all along.
It was a few hours later and the fire was burning low in the grate, susserating quietly to itself as it popped and crackled. Severus sat in front of it, eyes lidded, alone with a half empty bottle of brandy and his thoughts. The one was doing its best to relax him, while the other had just the opposite effect, though this wouldn't be obvious to the casual onlooker. He was so anxious to get pissed that he hadn't even bothered taking off his dress robes. He was distantly aware he might regret it in the morning but he couldn't bring himself to care.
He couldn't stop analyzing the brief conversation with Harry, examining the nuance of every word and possible hidden meanings. He had decided his favourite was the last bit. I really am glad you came tonight. Severus. I've wanted to talk to you. Severus... He quite liked the sound of his name on those lips in that deeper, more mature voice. Even when they'd worked side by side in the Order, it was always Snape or Professor then too.
When he grew tired of repeating Harry's words, he would return to his other favourite memory of the evening, the moment he first laid eyes on Harry in two years. He pictured the clothes he was wearing, a simple button-down shirt the colour of eggplant that might have been silk and black denim jeans, both of which clung to his lean frame far more flatteringly than mere fabric had a right to. Severus imagined slowly removing those clothes to reveal soft skin sliding over muscles, having the freedom to let his mouth follow his hands and caress that skin, moving further down, down, towards...
Severus groaned and tossed his head back against the chair. He felt pathetic, letting these fantasies get the best of him. But at the same time he had to begrudgingly admit his fantasies were about his only source of happiness these days. Oh, now THERE'S a comforting thought. You ARE a git.
He had just gotten up to get into bed, maybe have a good wank so the night wasn't a complete loss, and pass into the blessed oblivion of sleep, when he heard a knock at his door. He looked up sharply. Judging by how far the fire had died down it was late, perhaps 1 a.m. Who on earth would be bothering him at this hour?
He opened the door to find a slightly inebriated Gryffindor looking up at him through an unmistakably familiar pair of spectacles.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Professor, I know it's late..." he started to mumble, then noticed something about who he was talking to. "Oh! You're still dressed. Do you mind if I come in for a bit?"
Severus felt sorely out of practice in dealing with Harry and all the surprises he was capable of. Forgetting that he was so recently lost in inappropriate but entertaining thoughts about the very man in front of him, his kneejerk reaction was to slip into teacher mode.
"It IS very late, Potter, and you are very drunk. And my current state of dress notwithstanding, I was actually just turning in. Can the purpose for your visit possibly wait until the morning?" he finished, perhaps a little less snidely than he would have once upon a time.
Harry frowned a bit. Severus wasn't sure why until he responded, "Are we back to Potter then? I thought we had decided you would call me Harry."
Severus rolled his eyes inwardly at this display of sensitivity, but softened his demeanor to get the boy (man) out of his hair. "Harry. I had forgotten. But the rest of my statement still stands. It is late and you are drunk and I was just going to bed."
"I know. I would've come sooner but every time I tried to leave there had to be one more bloody toast and one more round of singing, and one more..."
Severus cut him off. "Please, spare me your woeful tale of having to endure the praise and adoration of your legions of fans. I'm sure it was unbearable for you."
"We've been over this, Snape. I didn't ask for all this fame and glory. I never wanted any of it!" Harry snapped angrily. "And you know as well as I do that you'd be receiving half of it, if all your work during the war wasn't done behind the scenes and in the shadows."
"Snape, is it? I thought you were going to call me Severus," he feigned affront. "Besides, we Slytherins do our best work behind the scenes and in the shadows. It leaves more room for Gryffindors at center stage. You should know that by now."
To his surprise Harry looked at him pleadingly, "I didn't come here to fight. Please. I just want to...to talk to you. And I'm really not that drunk. I just needed some liquid courage. Can I please come in?"
Severus blinked. He was so taken aback that he mutely stepped aside to let Harry in.
As Snape closed the door Harry stood in the middle of the room looking around, as if not entirely sure how he had gotten there. Severus wrote it off as a result of Harry never setting foot in his private rooms before. Besides, his own mind was frozen in place, curled around Harry's curious words. Liquid courage, he had said. For what? Just to talk to Snape?
He thought about offering him a drink, but decided that might be unwise. He tried tea instead and Harry gratefully accepted. He indicated Harry should take a seat while he went to the small adjoining kitchenette to make it.
"I really am sorry to bother you so late," Harry tried to make small talk. "I was just enjoying our conversation before those girls interrupted so rudely."
Severus carried the tray into the living room and set it down in front of the couch where Harry sat, then resumed his position in his armchair. "Clearly you must have been to want to continue it so soon that it couldn't wait for tomorrow. Though I can safely say never before has my company been so eagerly sought after."
Harry grinned as he sipped his tea. "You know how it is. The night brings a magic of its own. Makes it seem easier to do things you'd never dream of doing in the cold light of day."
Severus nearly choked on his beverage. Another problem with night magic was it was making it harder to see the innocent meaning in Harry's words. He tried changing the subject. "Well. I understand you did some traveling. Did you see anything of interest?"
"Oh, this and that," Harry stared into the fire thoughtfully, his teacup forgotten in his lap. "I visited Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, of course. Saw lots of Muggle tourist attractions. I spent a lot of time in America. Have you ever been there?"
Severus sniffed. "No, regrettably my Death Eater activities precluded any plans for globetrotting."
Again, Harry surprised him by not taking the bait. He just continued to stare into the flames as if mesmerized. "Oh. You should go some time. I had no idea it was so big. So many people to meet."
"Yes, well, were I to take a vacation, I can assure you I would not spend it trying to make friends of complete strangers on other continents."
At this Harry finally turned to look at Snape. His eyes looked haunted, and infinitely older than their years. If Snape had thought such a thing possible, he would have sworn it was Albus looking through those pools of green at him. "I didn't make any friends either. I hung out mostly with other wizards. I didn't think I could relax among Muggles, always having to hide what I really was. But with wizards, as soon as anyone saw my scar, I could never find a moment's peace. From then on I was 'the great Harry Potter,' blah blah blah. You can mock all you want, but honestly, I just want to be normal, and have friends who like me for me, and a lover who's attracted to me instead of just wanting to boast about shagging The Boy Who Lived."
Severus had remained silent throughout this monologue. He thought he knew where this was going but he couldn't be sure. He also couldn't see any other possible reason for Harry to speak so candidly to him, but was frantically trying not to get his silly, irrational hopes up only to be crushed. He was also trying very hard to ignore Harry's conspicuous failure to mention consorting with any witches while he was gone. Meanwhile Harry was obviously waiting for some kind of sage advice from him. Fortunately years as a double agent had trained Severus well in thinking on his feet.
"Well of course I can sympathize, Harry. Imagine the difficulty I have finding partners with my chequered past and soiled reputation." He could not believe he was sitting here commiserating with Harry Potter about how hard it was to get laid.
Harry's face lit up as he spotted the irresistible opening and took it. "Is that your problem? Are you sure it's got nothing to do with your abrasive personality, complete lack of social skills and questionable hygiene?"
Snape glowered menacingly but couldn't really find fault with the argument. Instead he growled, "Pott...Harry. Was there ever a reason for you to intrude on me tonight, or is Gryffindor Tower really that lacking in adequate alternatives of amusement for you?"
At this Harry lowered his gaze, blushing slightly. He hesitated and said quietly, "I know you want me."
Despite still being firmly seated, Snape felt exactly as though the floor had fallen out from under him. His brain locked up and his tongue went completely numb. He stared at Harry as if from across a great abyss, stuck in a silence that seemed to stretch on eternally. From a remote distance he was aware of some self-preservation instinct shrieking at him to make some kind of denial, any time now would be good.
"Now I know you're drunk, Potter. You must leave here at once."
"No, it's okay! I've given it a lot of thought, and I realized that all my life, you were the only one who gave me what I needed. Treated me the way I wanted to be treated, just like everyone else...although you might have gone a little overboard at times..."
Snape fought to keep his voice steady. "I know it's 'okay,' because you don't know what you're talking about. I'm old enough to be your father..."
"And I'm old enough to know what I want and make my own decisions. All those times you saved my life..."
"...were on Dumbledore's orders. You had a destiny to fulfill. Nothing more."
"And all the times after Voldemort was dead? The anonymous letters warning me about ambushes by surviving Death Eaters? I think I can recognize your handwriting easily enough after all the comments you've left on my Potions homework."
"Force of habit." It was the best he could come up with on such short notice.
"I noticed, you know. All those meals in the Great Hall with you staring at me. I didn't let on that I noticed because I enjoyed it too much, enjoyed feeling your eyes on me." Harry slid a few inches closer across the couch, gazing intently into the dark eyes.
Oh god. Severus felt trapped. His brain cast about desperately for something, anything, and found it. "I had to. You were always up to no good. I didn't trust you as far as I could throw you."
At this Harry burst into laughter. "I was eating breakfast! What could I possibly get up to in the middle of breakfast?"
"Spoken like someone who has never been set the task of trying to get a certain pair of twins to graduation without killing themselves or others."
Harry slid a little closer. "I don't know. With that family's reproductive rate, I may yet get my chance." His voice was softer, and he was eyeing Severus's lips hungrily.
Snape was out of protests. It was time for physical intimidation. He rose from his seat quickly and thundered, "This is utterly preposterous! I demand that you return to your own quarters this instant!"
Harry stood up just as quickly, right into his personal space, and the older wizard suddenly found himself outmaneuvered. "But you got all dressed up for me..." he purred, running his fingers over the serpent brocade in the other man's robes.
"I did not..." he started to say, until he looked down and realized how close Harry's face was. He stared fascinated as the tip of a pink tongue emerged and slowly moistened Harry's lips, and was barely aware of his own copying the gesture. This is a dream, he thought. I passed out from the brandy and I'm dreaming. Severus's heart started beating very fast as he leaned down and pressed hesitantly against those lips, and discovered that he was wide awake.
Strong arms wrapped around his neck as the lips parted, permitting him entrance before he even thought to ask. Harry tasted of liquor-laced punch, and maleness, and wishes granted. Severus moaned involuntarily as the kiss deepened, as Harry sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and nibbled it gently, as Harry's fingers slid into his hair, pulling him closer. Severus ran his hands up Harry's back, discovering that the shirt was indeed made of silk. He wondered if the skin underneath was as soft.
A stubborn part of his brain was still protesting, albeit more weakly by the minute. Reluctantly, Severus pulled away, though with his hands still on Harry's slender hips. "Harry, no," he gasped, even while certain other parts of his body most definitely screamed 'yes.' "You don't want this. You don't want me. This is..."
"Severus, with all due respect, shut up," Harry said, and resumed the kiss with renewed ferocity. He pressed his lower half against Severus and ground his erection against the hardness he felt there. Severus couldn't keep back a groan, it felt so good. Harry slid his mouth down Severus's jaw and ran his tongue up and around his ear, stopping to whisper huskily, "Take me to bed."
Severus took some small comfort in the knowledge that he wasn't exactly known for his strong moral fiber.
As much as he would have loved to rip through Harry's clothes and have him right on the Oriental rug in front of the fire, he also wanted to create a memory that would last a good long while, that he could relive over and over. He might never have a night like this again, and there was a small fantasy he wanted to live out.
So he took Harry by the hand and led him into his bedroom, never taking his eyes off his face. Harry's eyes sparkled, catching glints of firelight, as he gazed back steadily. Severus had him sit on the bed while he removed his outer robes, carefully draping them over a chair. Harry's hands went to unbutton his own shirt, but Severus stopped him.
"Allow me," he murmured, taking Harry's lips again and kissing him down onto his back. Moving down his neck, onto his collarbones in an exquisitely unhurried fashion, he began opening Harry's buttons, covering each creamy inch of exposed skin with his mouth. He was delighted, though hardly surprised, when he realized its texture made the silk feel like an old dishrag by comparison.
So slowly he moved, as if they had weeks to spend in this bed, but finally pushed the garment off Harry's shoulders and closed his lips gently around one dusky peaked nipple. Harry gasped and arched off the bed slightly. Severus looked up and their eyes met. He was gratified to see Harry's gaze unfocused with desire. He could feel his cock straining against his jeans, pressing against Severus's chest. The young man's hands again tangled in his hair, and he murmured throatily, "Severus, I want...I want you so much..."
Snape didn't know why Harry found him so desirable. He had no illusions about his physical appearance. All he knew was when Harry looked at him like that, he felt like he did when he was younger, never handsome exactly but a good deal less bitter and worn out. He felt wanted, and that was a feeling he'd almost forgotten and thought he'd never experience again in his lifetime. He didn't particularly care what the reasons were; he was going to enjoy this while it lasted and give this beautiful man anything he asked for.
He dipped his head down and swirled his tongue in Harry's navel, and the hips rose a little higher off the bed in response. His hands ran up and down the bare torso, sweeping closer and closer to the waistband and then under with every pass. Harry stared at him pleadingly, so he unfastened his button fly and pulled the tight denim off, releasing Harry's erection. Harry wore nothing underneath and Severus's eyebrow shot skyward. At his questioning glance Harry grinned sheepishly and explained, "I felt very, very optimistic about meeting you tonight." His cheeks were flushed with slight embarrassment.
He drew his full attention to bear on Harry's cock, bobbing optimistically indeed. Severus couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at one that wasn't his own. He hadn't realized until this moment how much he missed the experience. The sight also removed any lingering doubt that Harry was indeed now a man -- and a painfully aroused one, at that. He took the stiffened organ lightly in his hand and Harry gasped at the touch. He rubbed his nose along it, letting some silky strands of hair slide over it. He ran his lips up and down it, enjoying feeling Harry barely restraining himself from thrusting aggressively, seeking any contact.
Finally Harry's whimpers became too urgent to ignore and he took pity on him. He smoothly took the head into his mouth, and in one move swallowed him straight down to the root. A high-pitched cry escaped Harry and his hips tried to lift straight up into the air, but Severus easily pinned them down. His mouth glided up and down the shaft in a slow, torturously even rhythm, as unhurried as he was unbuttoning Harry's shirt, occasionally stopping to flick his tongue dexterously over the opening. Harry moaned appreciatively. "God...Severus...whod've thought you'd be so...fucking...good at that..."
Severus couldn't answer, being otherwise occupied, but that didn't stop him from smirking around his mouthful. He sucked on Harry langorously, though with the same intensity he gave everything he ever attempted. He brought a hand up and rolled Harry's balls between his fingers, increasing his tempo gradually but steadily, and that started the Gryffindor's toes curling and his hands fisting in the sheets. "Stop...stop...I'm gonna...oh god..." The warning went unheeded as Severus clamped down even harder, greedily swallowing the bursts of Harry's release down his throat.
He held the softening cock in his mouth until Harry finally relaxed and sank back into the sheets bonelessly. Severus lay there, not sure what to do in such a situation as he did not often find himself in it. His cock was throbbing for attention but he ignored it, half expecting this little encounter to be over now that Harry had gotten presumably what he had come for. Harry cracked one eye open and noticed him down there. He grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him up to eye level. He leaned over and kissed Severus tenderly. The older man tried to hide his surprise, in vain.
"That was bloody brilliant. I bet you'd have partners lining up from here to the Great Hall if anyone else knew you could do that."
"I'm hoping that it's true what they say, that word of mouth is the best publicity," he remarked dryly.
Harry laughed and turned on his side to face him. "Were you this funny when I was a student? Because if you were I don't remember it."
"Of course I was. But I've found my humour is largely wasted on Gryffindors."
Harry snorted in an almost Snape-like manner. "Probably because your humour is usually at our expense."
"Yes, well..." he trailed off because Harry was looking at him very seriously. "What is it?"
"Are you going to run off and boast about shagging me?"
"Technically, I haven't shagged you," he answered, quirking an eyebrow.
Harry's own raised in response. "Would you like to?" He accompanied the question with a squeeze of the older man's obvious bulge. Severus's eyes rolled up into his head and he bit his lip to hold back a needy moan.
"Mmmmmm...I'm not sure. If I can't brag to all my friends, then what's the point really?"
Harry's face broke into an enormous grin. "Let me see if I can't make it worth your while then..." With this he rolled over on top of Severus, pinning him and attacking his mouth while grinding his hips mercilessly against the other man's. Severus felt himself get even harder with the exuberant friction and heard himself uttering gasping, gutteral sounds that would have been embarrassing had he not lost the capacity for coherent thought.
With a growl and a heave he reversed their positions, not that Harry put up that much of a struggle. As he resumed the fierce kiss, Harry reached up to start unbuttoning his plain white shirt. He hadn't even completed the task halfway when, whether from uncontrollable desire or the sheer number of buttons there were to undo, he grew frustrated and broke off the kiss, crying, "Dishabillius!" Severus instantly found himself as nude as Harry, and more than a little unsettled at not only the sudden disrobing but the advanced wandless magic his former student had performed effortlessly.
He stared down at Harry, blinking in astonishment, as Harry's eyes slipped for the first time over his naked body. His usual modesty over his too-pale, too-scarred, too-thin body was forgotten in the face of such a display of power.
"What?" demanded Harry. "Haven't any of your other partners ever mentioned that you have way too many buttons?"
"I apologize if I'm not in the habit of dressing with an eye towards potential romantic encounters."
"Believe me, as a randy teenager all I needed was your voice to do the trick. You could have dressed as the Queen Mother and I would've gotten off." He rubbed one foot along Severus's bare flank enticingly as he spoke.
Snape paused, temporarily forgetting what they were doing. "You...fantasized about me as a student?"
"Cor, you really had no idea? I was usually so hard in your class I couldn't see straight, never mind successfully brew a potion. And I can't count how many times I wished your detentions were just an excuse to get me alone."
"Flattering. However, that's hardly the point."
"Then would you mind getting to the point so we can get back to...more enjoyable things?" He flicked his tongue along the underside of Severus's jaw, but found he was not so easily distracted.
"Do you intend to include that little trick in your Defense curriculum this year, Professor Potter?" he hissed, again perhaps not as coldly as he once would have.
Harry smirked. "Of course not. Though you have to admit it's dead useful in certain situations. For instance, this one..."
"I'm not referring to the specific spell so much as the wandless magic. It might give some people pause were they to realize just how powerful you are becoming."
Harry sighed heavily. "Then it's a good thing I've no interest in becoming the next Dark Lord. Or for that matter in what 'some people' think of me. At the moment the only thing I'm interested in is getting you wrapped around me." Towards that end Harry pulled Severus down by his waist to lie on top of him. "Though if you don't mind my saying so, you're even sexier when you scold me naked. I don't recommend you attempt it in class, everyone will be too turned on to take you seriously."
Severus snorted, temporarily forgetting his worry, "I assure you, Potter, you seem to be the only victim of this delusion that I am in any way remotely attractive."
"Good. More for me..." his voice was sultry as he leaned up to reclaim the thin lips, his legs wrapping around the backs of Severus's knees and his hips thrusting upwards to press their cocks together, skin-on-skin. Both men groaned and shivered at the contact.
Ah, youth. Severus envied the other wizard's quick recovery time when he noticed his prick already three quarters of the way back into action. He felt it hardening against his belly as his own hips moved naturally between Harry's spread thighs, down to rub against firm buttocks. As he burrowed his face into the younger man's neck, lost in the incredible sensations of being so close to another human being again, Harry whispered into his ear breathily, "Christ, Severus, please...fuck me..." Harry flipped over onto his hands and knees, presenting his arse demandingly.
Severus rose up on his knees, wrapping his arms around Harry's chest, his face buried in his neck. "Are you sure you want this, Harry?"
"Yes. I want you...all of you..." Harry arched back against the taller man, pressing against his stiff cock and rubbing insistently. Severus was totally undone.
He trailed his tongue back down Harry's spine. Reaching with one hand into the bedside table, he pulled out a small pot of ointment, a recipe of his own design. He used the other hand to spread Harry's buttocks apart. Harry buried his face into the pillow, offering himself up completely with a groan of desire. Severus slowly inserted a slick finger into his entrance, pumping it and moving it in circles, stretching Harry. The younger man gasped into the pillow, pushing back onto the digit helplessly.
"Oh god..that feels incredible...just like that..."
His gasps turned to desperate moans as Snape gradually added a second, then a third. Severus could tell he had experience by the way he relaxed his body until the fingers moved freely in and out of the ring of muscle. He lifted his head and begged, "Please Severus...now..."
He withdrew his fingers smoothly, eliciting a small sound of loss from Harry. He applied liberal amounts of the lube to his aching cock before positioning the head tentatively against the puckered hole. Harry felt it there and pressed back eagerly. Slowly, ever so slowly, Snape leaned forward and slid just the head in, letting him adjust to the size. Harry was holding his breath in anticipation, and when he exhaled the muscles slackened noticeably.
Severus pushed in a little more, rocking his hips with a very small movement, penetrating a tiny bit deeper with each thrust, pausing to give Harry time to adjust. Harry took his length inch by inch, panting softly in time with his partner's rhythm. Soon Severus was buried to the hilt inside him. Again he held still, trying to get used to the feeling of being surrounded and sucked in by that impossibly tight heat. His forehead broke out with sweat as he struggled for control; it had been too long since he'd done this, too long since he'd had this kind of contact with anyone, never mind one so perfect.
Gripping Harry's hips tightly, he pulled back out except for the tip, then slid back in again. Harry threw his head back and let out a keening sound of utter need. Severus's eyes rolled back into his head as he fought the urge to just pound mindlessly into him. He was so close to the edge of his climax, but he wanted this to last in case it never happened again. Out, and in again, moving easily in the slickness of the lube and their combined sweat.
After a few more lazy thrusts like this, he changed his angle slightly and this time hit it just right, the gland that turned a man's spine to molten liquid. Harry almost collapsed beneath him, crying, "Oh fuck...AGAIN...AGAIN..." Snape was happy to oblige, steadily increasing his speed as Harry thrust his hips back to meet him, impaling himself repeatedly on Severus's cock. Severus didn't know how much longer he was going to last, so he slipped his hand around Harry and wrapped his long fingers around him, pumping in time with their hips.
Verbal articulation was a distant memory; the two men were both reduced to moaning and gasping. Harry rocked back and forth between Severus's cock and hand, senseless with need. Severus had fallen forward over Harry's back, supporting himself with one hand, pistoning his hips furiously. He held on with Herculean effort until Harry took his pleasure, coating his fist. As Harry came, he pushed back hard onto Severus, his arse clenching and gripping him. This wrung from him an orgasm so fast and hard that Severus let out a high-pitched sob of pure ecstasy as he let go at last.
Harry collapsed, taking Severus down with him. Despite being covered in sweat and copious body fluids, neither seemed much inclined to move for many minutes. At long last Harry raised his hand. Severus, face half smooshed into the pillow, lifted his one visible eyebrow questioningly.
“Cleaning spell,” Harry explained. “Unless you have more objections?”
“At the moment you could cast Avada Kedavra on me and I wouldn’t have the strength to so much as flinch.”
Harry cast the spell wandlessly and wordlessly. Severus did find the strength to raise the eyebrow up another centimeter, but stayed silent. He shut his eyes and was just starting to sink into sleep when Harry spoke again.
“So…can I spend the night, or is that presumptuous of me?”
Severus let out a long-suffering sigh and muttered drowsily, “Terribly presumptuous of you, but if you insist…” and with that, surrendered to unconsciousness.
Harry held out for a few minutes longer, watching Severus with a small smile. “Somehow I knew he wouldn’t be a cuddler…” he said quietly to the room, and then curled up next to the snoring Potions master.
Severus drifted into the deepest sleep he could remember, physically and emotionally utterly exhausted. It seemed like he slept for days before any dreams came. When they did, they brought with them once again his green-eyed incubus. Hardly surprising considering what he just did, but because of the memory he welcomed the handsome sprite with familiarity. He noticed his subconscious had updated the vision to match reality rather than the mental picture he had carried for years. “Harry,” he murmured softly, running his fingers through the unruly hair as the spectre slid its mouth down his chest, tonguing his nipples and then his navel before teasing its way down to Severus’s half-hard member.
“Yesssss…” he exhaled as the ghost slowly lowered its mouth over his cock, swallowing it whole and then pulling back again, using just the right pressure with tongue and lips. Up and down in an agonizingly slow rhythm, maddeningly steady, just the way Severus liked it. Severus felt himself harden fully and sighed. He gazed down at the vision, which was in turn staring back at him with those burning eyes. He fell, mesmerized, into those twin oceans of green. They seemed to bore into his very soul, seemed to know all his secrets, seemed to engulf and eclipse him, embracing his being with an intense…
Snape started fully awake suddenly to find Dream Harry was very real and actually did have his cock in his mouth.
“Potter, what the bloody hell are you doing??” he spluttered.
Harry lazily removed Severus's prick from his mouth and quipped, “My goodness! It HAS been a long time for you, hasn’t it?”
“Why, you insolent…” But before Severus could hex him back to America, Harry licked a long stripe up the underside of his length and resumed his slow, dreamlike sucking. Severus suddenly found himself in the unfamiliar position of being unable to find the words to criticize.
Severus awoke facing the fire, certain it had all been a very vivid dream -- except for the fact that he was unaccustomedly nude. He rolled over slowly so as not to disturb the man he hoped was still lying beside him.
He was, sound asleep on his side facing Severus, his face tranquil and smooth. Severus took the opportunity to study it at length leisurely. He noticed Harry didn't look quite so much like his father anymore; his face was leaner, the lines more chiseled yet delicate. His skin was flawless alabaster, demanding to be caressed. Severus's gaze lingered on the full, sensual lips, scarcely able to believe he was kissing them just a short time ago. The sum of all parts considered, Harry was a very beautiful man.
In other words, the exact opposite of Severus himself. Severus couldn't begin to guess at Harry's interest in him. Madness, most likely, sure to pass come the sunrise. Night magic, Harry had said. He was only thankful it had lasted long enough to give him one wonderful night. Hopefully it would be enough to sustain him through the long, cold nights to come once Harry came to his senses. Severus would discover for himself if there was any truth to the Muggle saying about loving and losing versus never loving at all. He was somehow skeptical.
Well, if this experience was to soon fade into memory, he wanted to make it as complete a memory as possible. Gently he reached out and stroked Harry's face with long, sure fingers. He skimmed over the cheekbones, across the eyebrows, over the lips. Such beauty.
Harry didn't wake, but he did stir in his sleep. Severus froze with his hand in mid exploration. Harry only sighed muzzily, taking Severus's hand between both of his and pulling it down to his chest before sinking back into deep sleep. He clasped it there possessively like a favorite teddy bear.
Severus supposed he should have felt trapped, but rather he found it felt very warm and comforting. As he contemplated what he should do about his stolen limb, the exertions of the evening caught up with him once more and he drifted slowly back to sleep before he could reach a decision.
When Harry heard Severus's breathing become slow and even, he risked opening his eyes. He smiled in the dark as he watched the other man sleeping peacefully. He honestly was amazed he had made it through the front door, never mind all the way to this point. He thought the difficult, prickly, suspicious, introverted professor would be more of a challenge. Not that he deluded himself for one moment into thinking it would be all walks on the beach and picnics in the park from here on out, but they had made one hell of a good start.
Author/Artist:
grrgoylRating: NC-17
Warnings: None. This is probably the most vanilla NC-17 you'll ever read.
Disclaimer: I wouldn't be working two jobs if I were JK Rowling. No infringement or disrespect intended, not a dime being made off these characters.
Summary: Hogwarts' favorite son has returned. Severus couldn't care less. Really, he couldn't.
A/N: I'm a long-time reader and admirer of many Snarry fics. I thought I'd try my hand at one. The experience was much harder than expected and has given me a new-found respect for authors. Also I hate this title but try as I might couldn't think of another.
Severus Snape opened his eyes slowly. It was still dark but he could see well enough by the dying embers of the fireplace. His memory returned and he cursed himself for all kinds of fool.
He was sleeping naked, not his usual state in the chilly dungeons. Something else unusual about his situation was the fact that he was sharing his bed with someone else. Not just anyone else, but a man. And not just any man, but Harry bloody Potter. He closed his eyes again and tried to retrace his steps.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A huge feast was planned to welcome the returning hero to Hogwarts. The Boy Who Lived had become the Man Who Fulfilled His Destiny. That was a few years ago, but after defeating Voldemort Harry had decided to take a much deserved vacation and see the world. Now, having returned to England, he was offered and had accepted the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Who else on the planet was more qualified? So the banquet was scheduled to welcome Harry home.
Headmistress McGonagall had subtly but sternly made it clear that attendance was not optional in a manner that would have made Albus proud. It was only to be the faculty and some of the alumni who knew Harry, but the Great Hall was prepared with the most extravagant decorations, as if for the Yule Ball. Snape scowled when he was invited because that was expected, but if he were to be perfectly honest with himself, he was extremely curious to see what the boy had made of himself in the intervening years, though he'd sooner take the Mark again than admit that to anyone.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry Potter. How he had tried to forget that face. He found it easy to hate when Potter was just a child, another burgeoning James come back like a ghost to torment Snape for seven more years. He had only to look into those bespectacled eyes and all his miserable lonely days as an outcast schoolboy, memories he had long since put behind him, were instantly resurrected in a flash. The taunting, the pranks, the humiliation: it was relentless. He hated James and his worthless friends for stealing his childhood, and he hated his son for having this power over him, whether he realized it or not.
But then Potter began to grow up. And although he had certainly inherited his father's penchant for ignoring rules, what was missing was the cockiness, the rowdiness, the constant effort to be the center of attention. Snape could see these things were lacking, but continued treating the boy as if they weren't. He hoped the desire to prove Snape wrong would override Potter's flawed genetics. And, admittedly, it was quite a rush to exert authority over the son that he never had over the father, even if it was at times a gross abuse of his position.
Over the years, whether by Snape's doing or for some other reason, young Potter gradually became the best of both his parents: he had the boyish, innocent good looks of his dad and the quiet thoughtfulness and sensitivity of his mum, not to mention her startling green eyes. These things also did not escape Snape's notice. He would catch himself staring at the boy across the Great Hall at meals, finding it more and more difficult to tear his eyes away. Fortunately Potter seemed too wrapped up in his own affairs to ever catch him doing this. Snape left off bullying him in class, not wholly trusting his true motivation for wanting to give him detention. And with good reason, for that was approximately the time the dreams started, and Snape knew then that he was lost. Every night without fail he would be visited by a green-eyed incubus and all too eagerly end up entwined in those lithe agile limbs, pressed against that smooth muscled body, until he had to start taking a Dreamless Draught or else risk his very sanity.
Severus Snape did not make it a habit to lust after his students, but he was nothing if not a realistic man; and the reality was, he desperately wanted Harry Potter.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Snape arrived a bit later to the party than he had planned. He had spent far too much time selecting which robes to wear, as if anyone would look him at all with Harry Potter in the room. He considered a set of velvet green dress robes that he knew looked exquisitely rich, but decided someone might get the impression that he was trying too hard. He snorted at himself in the mirror, at the unfamiliar sensation of worrying about what someone else thought of him. He settled instead on his usual black but with a brocade border of a cleverly woven serpent design, subtle but more elegant than his dingy everyday school garb. He smoothed down his hair one last time, exhaled slowly and made his way to the Great Hall.
Almost everyone else was already there it seemed, except the guest of honour himself. Typical. No respect for other people, the brat, Snape caught himself thinking, but stopped. Old habits died hard. Snape reminded himself that Potter hadn't been a selfish little boy for some time now, if in fact he ever was. He endured the obligatory greetings of his colleagues, and then took the opportunity to ensconce himself near the back of the room, his usual spot, the better to observe without being observed. Old habits really did die hard.
It wasn't hard to guess when Potter finally did arrive. A palpable thrill spread through the assembly even before he stepped through the double doors, where he was immediately set upon by a knot of people. Everyone got to their feet, their glasses raised in a toast. This included Snape, although in his case it was more for the purpose of catching a glimpse through the throng of fawning fans of the spirit of his dreams made solid.
As if by a spell, the crowd suddenly parted and Snape's mouth went dry. Potter was...devastating. There was no other word. He had filled out nicely while maintaining his lean Seeker's build. He had grown a few inches but would never be tall. His shoulders were broader, his clothes better fitting, his stride a little longer. He exuded casual confidence without arrogance. And if his eyes shone not as brightly or if his smile appeared not as wide, well, five years of war with the Dark Lord had taken its toll on them all.
Snape sat down abruptly, his heart thudding loudly in his chest, as he drank in the sight of him. The sight of Harry, for in that instant in his mind he had ceased being Potter.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The party seemed interminable, although from Snape's perspective every party was. He dutifully made inane small talk, hating every second of it, but reluctant to leave as long as Harry was there. He watched out of the corner of his eye as he made the rounds, performing the celebrity's role with a practiced ease that Snape almost admired.
It was in the middle of a nearly tolerable conversation with Professor Sinistra that Snape turned suddenly and came face to face with the young man. The Potions master pulled up short, a little startled.
"Hello, Professor Snape," he said, smiling uncertainly.
This close, the first thing he noticed was that Harry was only half a head shorter than himself. The next was that his original impression about his eyes not shining as brightly was quite mistaken. Or was he mistaken now, imagining those eyes shining for him? Severus, when DID you become such a fumbling idiot? You're practically mooning over the boy. Man, he corrected himself yet again.
Smoothing his robes imperceptibly, he straightened to his full height. "Mr. Potter. You're looking...well."
"Thank you sir. I must admit I'm surprised to see you here. Though not surprised you'd spend the entire night brooding in the corner," he added.
Snape sniffed disdainfully. "I was not brooding. I was observing. Though I suppose from your vantage point in the spotlight it all looks the same. And don't flatter yourself. Surely you must have realized my presence here has more to do with the headmistress than with you." There. He felt satisfied that his walls were safely back in place.
At least he did until to his shock Harry laughed goodnaturedly. "Yes, I suspected she might have had a hand in it. Well, it's good to see some things never change around here."
Snape stared down his nose in disbelief. Not only because he had failed to get a rise out of the boy (man), but because of the way that laughter had made him feel. There was no cruelty in it, no ill will. It was a companionable laugh, one almost of friendship. But Snape and Potter weren't friends. Were they?
When Snape made no reply, he went on. "So it looks like we're going to be colleagues again. Though in somewhat happier circumstances."
"I suppose we are," Snape agreed guardedly.
"In that case I was wondering if I should start calling you Severus, or is it still to be Professor?"
He appeared to ponder the question, while on the inside quelling his thoroughly irrational reaction to Harry's apparent desire to be on more personal terms with him. "You may use whatever name with which you are the most comfortable."
"Well, when you put it that way, I'm most comfortable with 'greasy git,' but I doubt that would look very professional to the students," he said with a smirk. Snape stiffened at the well-worn insult. The imagined camaraderie had been just that, and here he was, the butt of a joke yet again. Old fool. You walked right into that one. But after a few seconds he realized that Harry's smile was warm and genuine rather than mocking and that, unbelievably, he was having him on. Well, he could always give as good as he got.
"And you? May I call you Harry or will you answer to 'insolent whelp' as well?" He spoke without rancour, though he couldn't quite bring himself to return the smile.
"Severus it is, then," Harry laughed again. "I was hoping you'd see it my way."
If he had thought he was gobsmacked before, that was nothing compared to how he felt next. Harry, noticing that they were alone, leaned forward suddenly to murmur near his ear, "Actually Severus, I really am glad you came tonight. I've wanted to talk to you for..."
Snape would never know how that sentence would have ended, as just then a group of wildly giggling young women from Harry's graduating class appeared out of nowhere and bore Harry off. If Snape's frustration was mirrored in Harry's eyes it was only for a moment, and then the Golden Boy's mask slid back into place, always willing to please his fans. Snape's patience, however, had a much shorter limit and it had been surpassed. With his trademark billowing of robes, he turned on his heel and stalked off to the solitude of his dungeons, where he told himself he would have been happier all along.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was a few hours later and the fire was burning low in the grate, susserating quietly to itself as it popped and crackled. Severus sat in front of it, eyes lidded, alone with a half empty bottle of brandy and his thoughts. The one was doing its best to relax him, while the other had just the opposite effect, though this wouldn't be obvious to the casual onlooker. He was so anxious to get pissed that he hadn't even bothered taking off his dress robes. He was distantly aware he might regret it in the morning but he couldn't bring himself to care.
He couldn't stop analyzing the brief conversation with Harry, examining the nuance of every word and possible hidden meanings. He had decided his favourite was the last bit. I really am glad you came tonight. Severus. I've wanted to talk to you. Severus... He quite liked the sound of his name on those lips in that deeper, more mature voice. Even when they'd worked side by side in the Order, it was always Snape or Professor then too.
When he grew tired of repeating Harry's words, he would return to his other favourite memory of the evening, the moment he first laid eyes on Harry in two years. He pictured the clothes he was wearing, a simple button-down shirt the colour of eggplant that might have been silk and black denim jeans, both of which clung to his lean frame far more flatteringly than mere fabric had a right to. Severus imagined slowly removing those clothes to reveal soft skin sliding over muscles, having the freedom to let his mouth follow his hands and caress that skin, moving further down, down, towards...
Severus groaned and tossed his head back against the chair. He felt pathetic, letting these fantasies get the best of him. But at the same time he had to begrudgingly admit his fantasies were about his only source of happiness these days. Oh, now THERE'S a comforting thought. You ARE a git.
He had just gotten up to get into bed, maybe have a good wank so the night wasn't a complete loss, and pass into the blessed oblivion of sleep, when he heard a knock at his door. He looked up sharply. Judging by how far the fire had died down it was late, perhaps 1 a.m. Who on earth would be bothering him at this hour?
He opened the door to find a slightly inebriated Gryffindor looking up at him through an unmistakably familiar pair of spectacles.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Professor, I know it's late..." he started to mumble, then noticed something about who he was talking to. "Oh! You're still dressed. Do you mind if I come in for a bit?"
Severus felt sorely out of practice in dealing with Harry and all the surprises he was capable of. Forgetting that he was so recently lost in inappropriate but entertaining thoughts about the very man in front of him, his kneejerk reaction was to slip into teacher mode.
"It IS very late, Potter, and you are very drunk. And my current state of dress notwithstanding, I was actually just turning in. Can the purpose for your visit possibly wait until the morning?" he finished, perhaps a little less snidely than he would have once upon a time.
Harry frowned a bit. Severus wasn't sure why until he responded, "Are we back to Potter then? I thought we had decided you would call me Harry."
Severus rolled his eyes inwardly at this display of sensitivity, but softened his demeanor to get the boy (man) out of his hair. "Harry. I had forgotten. But the rest of my statement still stands. It is late and you are drunk and I was just going to bed."
"I know. I would've come sooner but every time I tried to leave there had to be one more bloody toast and one more round of singing, and one more..."
Severus cut him off. "Please, spare me your woeful tale of having to endure the praise and adoration of your legions of fans. I'm sure it was unbearable for you."
"We've been over this, Snape. I didn't ask for all this fame and glory. I never wanted any of it!" Harry snapped angrily. "And you know as well as I do that you'd be receiving half of it, if all your work during the war wasn't done behind the scenes and in the shadows."
"Snape, is it? I thought you were going to call me Severus," he feigned affront. "Besides, we Slytherins do our best work behind the scenes and in the shadows. It leaves more room for Gryffindors at center stage. You should know that by now."
To his surprise Harry looked at him pleadingly, "I didn't come here to fight. Please. I just want to...to talk to you. And I'm really not that drunk. I just needed some liquid courage. Can I please come in?"
Severus blinked. He was so taken aback that he mutely stepped aside to let Harry in.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As Snape closed the door Harry stood in the middle of the room looking around, as if not entirely sure how he had gotten there. Severus wrote it off as a result of Harry never setting foot in his private rooms before. Besides, his own mind was frozen in place, curled around Harry's curious words. Liquid courage, he had said. For what? Just to talk to Snape?
He thought about offering him a drink, but decided that might be unwise. He tried tea instead and Harry gratefully accepted. He indicated Harry should take a seat while he went to the small adjoining kitchenette to make it.
"I really am sorry to bother you so late," Harry tried to make small talk. "I was just enjoying our conversation before those girls interrupted so rudely."
Severus carried the tray into the living room and set it down in front of the couch where Harry sat, then resumed his position in his armchair. "Clearly you must have been to want to continue it so soon that it couldn't wait for tomorrow. Though I can safely say never before has my company been so eagerly sought after."
Harry grinned as he sipped his tea. "You know how it is. The night brings a magic of its own. Makes it seem easier to do things you'd never dream of doing in the cold light of day."
Severus nearly choked on his beverage. Another problem with night magic was it was making it harder to see the innocent meaning in Harry's words. He tried changing the subject. "Well. I understand you did some traveling. Did you see anything of interest?"
"Oh, this and that," Harry stared into the fire thoughtfully, his teacup forgotten in his lap. "I visited Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, of course. Saw lots of Muggle tourist attractions. I spent a lot of time in America. Have you ever been there?"
Severus sniffed. "No, regrettably my Death Eater activities precluded any plans for globetrotting."
Again, Harry surprised him by not taking the bait. He just continued to stare into the flames as if mesmerized. "Oh. You should go some time. I had no idea it was so big. So many people to meet."
"Yes, well, were I to take a vacation, I can assure you I would not spend it trying to make friends of complete strangers on other continents."
At this Harry finally turned to look at Snape. His eyes looked haunted, and infinitely older than their years. If Snape had thought such a thing possible, he would have sworn it was Albus looking through those pools of green at him. "I didn't make any friends either. I hung out mostly with other wizards. I didn't think I could relax among Muggles, always having to hide what I really was. But with wizards, as soon as anyone saw my scar, I could never find a moment's peace. From then on I was 'the great Harry Potter,' blah blah blah. You can mock all you want, but honestly, I just want to be normal, and have friends who like me for me, and a lover who's attracted to me instead of just wanting to boast about shagging The Boy Who Lived."
Severus had remained silent throughout this monologue. He thought he knew where this was going but he couldn't be sure. He also couldn't see any other possible reason for Harry to speak so candidly to him, but was frantically trying not to get his silly, irrational hopes up only to be crushed. He was also trying very hard to ignore Harry's conspicuous failure to mention consorting with any witches while he was gone. Meanwhile Harry was obviously waiting for some kind of sage advice from him. Fortunately years as a double agent had trained Severus well in thinking on his feet.
"Well of course I can sympathize, Harry. Imagine the difficulty I have finding partners with my chequered past and soiled reputation." He could not believe he was sitting here commiserating with Harry Potter about how hard it was to get laid.
Harry's face lit up as he spotted the irresistible opening and took it. "Is that your problem? Are you sure it's got nothing to do with your abrasive personality, complete lack of social skills and questionable hygiene?"
Snape glowered menacingly but couldn't really find fault with the argument. Instead he growled, "Pott...Harry. Was there ever a reason for you to intrude on me tonight, or is Gryffindor Tower really that lacking in adequate alternatives of amusement for you?"
At this Harry lowered his gaze, blushing slightly. He hesitated and said quietly, "I know you want me."
Despite still being firmly seated, Snape felt exactly as though the floor had fallen out from under him. His brain locked up and his tongue went completely numb. He stared at Harry as if from across a great abyss, stuck in a silence that seemed to stretch on eternally. From a remote distance he was aware of some self-preservation instinct shrieking at him to make some kind of denial, any time now would be good.
"Now I know you're drunk, Potter. You must leave here at once."
"No, it's okay! I've given it a lot of thought, and I realized that all my life, you were the only one who gave me what I needed. Treated me the way I wanted to be treated, just like everyone else...although you might have gone a little overboard at times..."
Snape fought to keep his voice steady. "I know it's 'okay,' because you don't know what you're talking about. I'm old enough to be your father..."
"And I'm old enough to know what I want and make my own decisions. All those times you saved my life..."
"...were on Dumbledore's orders. You had a destiny to fulfill. Nothing more."
"And all the times after Voldemort was dead? The anonymous letters warning me about ambushes by surviving Death Eaters? I think I can recognize your handwriting easily enough after all the comments you've left on my Potions homework."
"Force of habit." It was the best he could come up with on such short notice.
"I noticed, you know. All those meals in the Great Hall with you staring at me. I didn't let on that I noticed because I enjoyed it too much, enjoyed feeling your eyes on me." Harry slid a few inches closer across the couch, gazing intently into the dark eyes.
Oh god. Severus felt trapped. His brain cast about desperately for something, anything, and found it. "I had to. You were always up to no good. I didn't trust you as far as I could throw you."
At this Harry burst into laughter. "I was eating breakfast! What could I possibly get up to in the middle of breakfast?"
"Spoken like someone who has never been set the task of trying to get a certain pair of twins to graduation without killing themselves or others."
Harry slid a little closer. "I don't know. With that family's reproductive rate, I may yet get my chance." His voice was softer, and he was eyeing Severus's lips hungrily.
Snape was out of protests. It was time for physical intimidation. He rose from his seat quickly and thundered, "This is utterly preposterous! I demand that you return to your own quarters this instant!"
Harry stood up just as quickly, right into his personal space, and the older wizard suddenly found himself outmaneuvered. "But you got all dressed up for me..." he purred, running his fingers over the serpent brocade in the other man's robes.
"I did not..." he started to say, until he looked down and realized how close Harry's face was. He stared fascinated as the tip of a pink tongue emerged and slowly moistened Harry's lips, and was barely aware of his own copying the gesture. This is a dream, he thought. I passed out from the brandy and I'm dreaming. Severus's heart started beating very fast as he leaned down and pressed hesitantly against those lips, and discovered that he was wide awake.
Strong arms wrapped around his neck as the lips parted, permitting him entrance before he even thought to ask. Harry tasted of liquor-laced punch, and maleness, and wishes granted. Severus moaned involuntarily as the kiss deepened, as Harry sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and nibbled it gently, as Harry's fingers slid into his hair, pulling him closer. Severus ran his hands up Harry's back, discovering that the shirt was indeed made of silk. He wondered if the skin underneath was as soft.
A stubborn part of his brain was still protesting, albeit more weakly by the minute. Reluctantly, Severus pulled away, though with his hands still on Harry's slender hips. "Harry, no," he gasped, even while certain other parts of his body most definitely screamed 'yes.' "You don't want this. You don't want me. This is..."
"Severus, with all due respect, shut up," Harry said, and resumed the kiss with renewed ferocity. He pressed his lower half against Severus and ground his erection against the hardness he felt there. Severus couldn't keep back a groan, it felt so good. Harry slid his mouth down Severus's jaw and ran his tongue up and around his ear, stopping to whisper huskily, "Take me to bed."
Severus took some small comfort in the knowledge that he wasn't exactly known for his strong moral fiber.
As much as he would have loved to rip through Harry's clothes and have him right on the Oriental rug in front of the fire, he also wanted to create a memory that would last a good long while, that he could relive over and over. He might never have a night like this again, and there was a small fantasy he wanted to live out.
So he took Harry by the hand and led him into his bedroom, never taking his eyes off his face. Harry's eyes sparkled, catching glints of firelight, as he gazed back steadily. Severus had him sit on the bed while he removed his outer robes, carefully draping them over a chair. Harry's hands went to unbutton his own shirt, but Severus stopped him.
"Allow me," he murmured, taking Harry's lips again and kissing him down onto his back. Moving down his neck, onto his collarbones in an exquisitely unhurried fashion, he began opening Harry's buttons, covering each creamy inch of exposed skin with his mouth. He was delighted, though hardly surprised, when he realized its texture made the silk feel like an old dishrag by comparison.
So slowly he moved, as if they had weeks to spend in this bed, but finally pushed the garment off Harry's shoulders and closed his lips gently around one dusky peaked nipple. Harry gasped and arched off the bed slightly. Severus looked up and their eyes met. He was gratified to see Harry's gaze unfocused with desire. He could feel his cock straining against his jeans, pressing against Severus's chest. The young man's hands again tangled in his hair, and he murmured throatily, "Severus, I want...I want you so much..."
Snape didn't know why Harry found him so desirable. He had no illusions about his physical appearance. All he knew was when Harry looked at him like that, he felt like he did when he was younger, never handsome exactly but a good deal less bitter and worn out. He felt wanted, and that was a feeling he'd almost forgotten and thought he'd never experience again in his lifetime. He didn't particularly care what the reasons were; he was going to enjoy this while it lasted and give this beautiful man anything he asked for.
He dipped his head down and swirled his tongue in Harry's navel, and the hips rose a little higher off the bed in response. His hands ran up and down the bare torso, sweeping closer and closer to the waistband and then under with every pass. Harry stared at him pleadingly, so he unfastened his button fly and pulled the tight denim off, releasing Harry's erection. Harry wore nothing underneath and Severus's eyebrow shot skyward. At his questioning glance Harry grinned sheepishly and explained, "I felt very, very optimistic about meeting you tonight." His cheeks were flushed with slight embarrassment.
He drew his full attention to bear on Harry's cock, bobbing optimistically indeed. Severus couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at one that wasn't his own. He hadn't realized until this moment how much he missed the experience. The sight also removed any lingering doubt that Harry was indeed now a man -- and a painfully aroused one, at that. He took the stiffened organ lightly in his hand and Harry gasped at the touch. He rubbed his nose along it, letting some silky strands of hair slide over it. He ran his lips up and down it, enjoying feeling Harry barely restraining himself from thrusting aggressively, seeking any contact.
Finally Harry's whimpers became too urgent to ignore and he took pity on him. He smoothly took the head into his mouth, and in one move swallowed him straight down to the root. A high-pitched cry escaped Harry and his hips tried to lift straight up into the air, but Severus easily pinned them down. His mouth glided up and down the shaft in a slow, torturously even rhythm, as unhurried as he was unbuttoning Harry's shirt, occasionally stopping to flick his tongue dexterously over the opening. Harry moaned appreciatively. "God...Severus...whod've thought you'd be so...fucking...good at that..."
Severus couldn't answer, being otherwise occupied, but that didn't stop him from smirking around his mouthful. He sucked on Harry langorously, though with the same intensity he gave everything he ever attempted. He brought a hand up and rolled Harry's balls between his fingers, increasing his tempo gradually but steadily, and that started the Gryffindor's toes curling and his hands fisting in the sheets. "Stop...stop...I'm gonna...oh god..." The warning went unheeded as Severus clamped down even harder, greedily swallowing the bursts of Harry's release down his throat.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He held the softening cock in his mouth until Harry finally relaxed and sank back into the sheets bonelessly. Severus lay there, not sure what to do in such a situation as he did not often find himself in it. His cock was throbbing for attention but he ignored it, half expecting this little encounter to be over now that Harry had gotten presumably what he had come for. Harry cracked one eye open and noticed him down there. He grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him up to eye level. He leaned over and kissed Severus tenderly. The older man tried to hide his surprise, in vain.
"That was bloody brilliant. I bet you'd have partners lining up from here to the Great Hall if anyone else knew you could do that."
"I'm hoping that it's true what they say, that word of mouth is the best publicity," he remarked dryly.
Harry laughed and turned on his side to face him. "Were you this funny when I was a student? Because if you were I don't remember it."
"Of course I was. But I've found my humour is largely wasted on Gryffindors."
Harry snorted in an almost Snape-like manner. "Probably because your humour is usually at our expense."
"Yes, well..." he trailed off because Harry was looking at him very seriously. "What is it?"
"Are you going to run off and boast about shagging me?"
"Technically, I haven't shagged you," he answered, quirking an eyebrow.
Harry's own raised in response. "Would you like to?" He accompanied the question with a squeeze of the older man's obvious bulge. Severus's eyes rolled up into his head and he bit his lip to hold back a needy moan.
"Mmmmmm...I'm not sure. If I can't brag to all my friends, then what's the point really?"
Harry's face broke into an enormous grin. "Let me see if I can't make it worth your while then..." With this he rolled over on top of Severus, pinning him and attacking his mouth while grinding his hips mercilessly against the other man's. Severus felt himself get even harder with the exuberant friction and heard himself uttering gasping, gutteral sounds that would have been embarrassing had he not lost the capacity for coherent thought.
With a growl and a heave he reversed their positions, not that Harry put up that much of a struggle. As he resumed the fierce kiss, Harry reached up to start unbuttoning his plain white shirt. He hadn't even completed the task halfway when, whether from uncontrollable desire or the sheer number of buttons there were to undo, he grew frustrated and broke off the kiss, crying, "Dishabillius!" Severus instantly found himself as nude as Harry, and more than a little unsettled at not only the sudden disrobing but the advanced wandless magic his former student had performed effortlessly.
He stared down at Harry, blinking in astonishment, as Harry's eyes slipped for the first time over his naked body. His usual modesty over his too-pale, too-scarred, too-thin body was forgotten in the face of such a display of power.
"What?" demanded Harry. "Haven't any of your other partners ever mentioned that you have way too many buttons?"
"I apologize if I'm not in the habit of dressing with an eye towards potential romantic encounters."
"Believe me, as a randy teenager all I needed was your voice to do the trick. You could have dressed as the Queen Mother and I would've gotten off." He rubbed one foot along Severus's bare flank enticingly as he spoke.
Snape paused, temporarily forgetting what they were doing. "You...fantasized about me as a student?"
"Cor, you really had no idea? I was usually so hard in your class I couldn't see straight, never mind successfully brew a potion. And I can't count how many times I wished your detentions were just an excuse to get me alone."
"Flattering. However, that's hardly the point."
"Then would you mind getting to the point so we can get back to...more enjoyable things?" He flicked his tongue along the underside of Severus's jaw, but found he was not so easily distracted.
"Do you intend to include that little trick in your Defense curriculum this year, Professor Potter?" he hissed, again perhaps not as coldly as he once would have.
Harry smirked. "Of course not. Though you have to admit it's dead useful in certain situations. For instance, this one..."
"I'm not referring to the specific spell so much as the wandless magic. It might give some people pause were they to realize just how powerful you are becoming."
Harry sighed heavily. "Then it's a good thing I've no interest in becoming the next Dark Lord. Or for that matter in what 'some people' think of me. At the moment the only thing I'm interested in is getting you wrapped around me." Towards that end Harry pulled Severus down by his waist to lie on top of him. "Though if you don't mind my saying so, you're even sexier when you scold me naked. I don't recommend you attempt it in class, everyone will be too turned on to take you seriously."
Severus snorted, temporarily forgetting his worry, "I assure you, Potter, you seem to be the only victim of this delusion that I am in any way remotely attractive."
"Good. More for me..." his voice was sultry as he leaned up to reclaim the thin lips, his legs wrapping around the backs of Severus's knees and his hips thrusting upwards to press their cocks together, skin-on-skin. Both men groaned and shivered at the contact.
Ah, youth. Severus envied the other wizard's quick recovery time when he noticed his prick already three quarters of the way back into action. He felt it hardening against his belly as his own hips moved naturally between Harry's spread thighs, down to rub against firm buttocks. As he burrowed his face into the younger man's neck, lost in the incredible sensations of being so close to another human being again, Harry whispered into his ear breathily, "Christ, Severus, please...fuck me..." Harry flipped over onto his hands and knees, presenting his arse demandingly.
Severus rose up on his knees, wrapping his arms around Harry's chest, his face buried in his neck. "Are you sure you want this, Harry?"
"Yes. I want you...all of you..." Harry arched back against the taller man, pressing against his stiff cock and rubbing insistently. Severus was totally undone.
He trailed his tongue back down Harry's spine. Reaching with one hand into the bedside table, he pulled out a small pot of ointment, a recipe of his own design. He used the other hand to spread Harry's buttocks apart. Harry buried his face into the pillow, offering himself up completely with a groan of desire. Severus slowly inserted a slick finger into his entrance, pumping it and moving it in circles, stretching Harry. The younger man gasped into the pillow, pushing back onto the digit helplessly.
"Oh god..that feels incredible...just like that..."
His gasps turned to desperate moans as Snape gradually added a second, then a third. Severus could tell he had experience by the way he relaxed his body until the fingers moved freely in and out of the ring of muscle. He lifted his head and begged, "Please Severus...now..."
He withdrew his fingers smoothly, eliciting a small sound of loss from Harry. He applied liberal amounts of the lube to his aching cock before positioning the head tentatively against the puckered hole. Harry felt it there and pressed back eagerly. Slowly, ever so slowly, Snape leaned forward and slid just the head in, letting him adjust to the size. Harry was holding his breath in anticipation, and when he exhaled the muscles slackened noticeably.
Severus pushed in a little more, rocking his hips with a very small movement, penetrating a tiny bit deeper with each thrust, pausing to give Harry time to adjust. Harry took his length inch by inch, panting softly in time with his partner's rhythm. Soon Severus was buried to the hilt inside him. Again he held still, trying to get used to the feeling of being surrounded and sucked in by that impossibly tight heat. His forehead broke out with sweat as he struggled for control; it had been too long since he'd done this, too long since he'd had this kind of contact with anyone, never mind one so perfect.
Gripping Harry's hips tightly, he pulled back out except for the tip, then slid back in again. Harry threw his head back and let out a keening sound of utter need. Severus's eyes rolled back into his head as he fought the urge to just pound mindlessly into him. He was so close to the edge of his climax, but he wanted this to last in case it never happened again. Out, and in again, moving easily in the slickness of the lube and their combined sweat.
After a few more lazy thrusts like this, he changed his angle slightly and this time hit it just right, the gland that turned a man's spine to molten liquid. Harry almost collapsed beneath him, crying, "Oh fuck...AGAIN...AGAIN..." Snape was happy to oblige, steadily increasing his speed as Harry thrust his hips back to meet him, impaling himself repeatedly on Severus's cock. Severus didn't know how much longer he was going to last, so he slipped his hand around Harry and wrapped his long fingers around him, pumping in time with their hips.
Verbal articulation was a distant memory; the two men were both reduced to moaning and gasping. Harry rocked back and forth between Severus's cock and hand, senseless with need. Severus had fallen forward over Harry's back, supporting himself with one hand, pistoning his hips furiously. He held on with Herculean effort until Harry took his pleasure, coating his fist. As Harry came, he pushed back hard onto Severus, his arse clenching and gripping him. This wrung from him an orgasm so fast and hard that Severus let out a high-pitched sob of pure ecstasy as he let go at last.
Harry collapsed, taking Severus down with him. Despite being covered in sweat and copious body fluids, neither seemed much inclined to move for many minutes. At long last Harry raised his hand. Severus, face half smooshed into the pillow, lifted his one visible eyebrow questioningly.
“Cleaning spell,” Harry explained. “Unless you have more objections?”
“At the moment you could cast Avada Kedavra on me and I wouldn’t have the strength to so much as flinch.”
Harry cast the spell wandlessly and wordlessly. Severus did find the strength to raise the eyebrow up another centimeter, but stayed silent. He shut his eyes and was just starting to sink into sleep when Harry spoke again.
“So…can I spend the night, or is that presumptuous of me?”
Severus let out a long-suffering sigh and muttered drowsily, “Terribly presumptuous of you, but if you insist…” and with that, surrendered to unconsciousness.
Harry held out for a few minutes longer, watching Severus with a small smile. “Somehow I knew he wouldn’t be a cuddler…” he said quietly to the room, and then curled up next to the snoring Potions master.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Severus drifted into the deepest sleep he could remember, physically and emotionally utterly exhausted. It seemed like he slept for days before any dreams came. When they did, they brought with them once again his green-eyed incubus. Hardly surprising considering what he just did, but because of the memory he welcomed the handsome sprite with familiarity. He noticed his subconscious had updated the vision to match reality rather than the mental picture he had carried for years. “Harry,” he murmured softly, running his fingers through the unruly hair as the spectre slid its mouth down his chest, tonguing his nipples and then his navel before teasing its way down to Severus’s half-hard member.
“Yesssss…” he exhaled as the ghost slowly lowered its mouth over his cock, swallowing it whole and then pulling back again, using just the right pressure with tongue and lips. Up and down in an agonizingly slow rhythm, maddeningly steady, just the way Severus liked it. Severus felt himself harden fully and sighed. He gazed down at the vision, which was in turn staring back at him with those burning eyes. He fell, mesmerized, into those twin oceans of green. They seemed to bore into his very soul, seemed to know all his secrets, seemed to engulf and eclipse him, embracing his being with an intense…
Snape started fully awake suddenly to find Dream Harry was very real and actually did have his cock in his mouth.
“Potter, what the bloody hell are you doing??” he spluttered.
Harry lazily removed Severus's prick from his mouth and quipped, “My goodness! It HAS been a long time for you, hasn’t it?”
“Why, you insolent…” But before Severus could hex him back to America, Harry licked a long stripe up the underside of his length and resumed his slow, dreamlike sucking. Severus suddenly found himself in the unfamiliar position of being unable to find the words to criticize.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Severus awoke facing the fire, certain it had all been a very vivid dream -- except for the fact that he was unaccustomedly nude. He rolled over slowly so as not to disturb the man he hoped was still lying beside him.
He was, sound asleep on his side facing Severus, his face tranquil and smooth. Severus took the opportunity to study it at length leisurely. He noticed Harry didn't look quite so much like his father anymore; his face was leaner, the lines more chiseled yet delicate. His skin was flawless alabaster, demanding to be caressed. Severus's gaze lingered on the full, sensual lips, scarcely able to believe he was kissing them just a short time ago. The sum of all parts considered, Harry was a very beautiful man.
In other words, the exact opposite of Severus himself. Severus couldn't begin to guess at Harry's interest in him. Madness, most likely, sure to pass come the sunrise. Night magic, Harry had said. He was only thankful it had lasted long enough to give him one wonderful night. Hopefully it would be enough to sustain him through the long, cold nights to come once Harry came to his senses. Severus would discover for himself if there was any truth to the Muggle saying about loving and losing versus never loving at all. He was somehow skeptical.
Well, if this experience was to soon fade into memory, he wanted to make it as complete a memory as possible. Gently he reached out and stroked Harry's face with long, sure fingers. He skimmed over the cheekbones, across the eyebrows, over the lips. Such beauty.
Harry didn't wake, but he did stir in his sleep. Severus froze with his hand in mid exploration. Harry only sighed muzzily, taking Severus's hand between both of his and pulling it down to his chest before sinking back into deep sleep. He clasped it there possessively like a favorite teddy bear.
Severus supposed he should have felt trapped, but rather he found it felt very warm and comforting. As he contemplated what he should do about his stolen limb, the exertions of the evening caught up with him once more and he drifted slowly back to sleep before he could reach a decision.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When Harry heard Severus's breathing become slow and even, he risked opening his eyes. He smiled in the dark as he watched the other man sleeping peacefully. He honestly was amazed he had made it through the front door, never mind all the way to this point. He thought the difficult, prickly, suspicious, introverted professor would be more of a challenge. Not that he deluded himself for one moment into thinking it would be all walks on the beach and picnics in the park from here on out, but they had made one hell of a good start.