When Harry started his seventh year at Hogwarts, he knew he would have to practise hard to be prepared to face Voldemort. In the first week of classes he asked Dumbledore to schedule extra lessons for that purpose. The Headmaster volunteered to give him advanced classes in Occlumency and chose McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape as Harry's other tutors.
Snape and Flitwick started to give him duelling lessons. The differences between their teaching styles were remarkable: Flitwick was serene, chivalrous, surprising but always fair; Snape, a volcano ready to erupt, treacherous like his House symbol.
Harry's friends had been a little distant in those first weeks of term. Ron was now the Head Boy, always worried about following the Weasleys' fate and pleasing his mother; Hermione, always obsessed with her studies.
As for Harry's amorous and sexual life, it was confined to the space beneath his sheets, inside his bed curtains, or under the shower. In his sixth year, Harry discovered that he felt more attracted to the male than to the female gender, and that revelation hadn't helped him at all: homosexuality was a taboo in Hogwarts and in the Wizarding World.
Harry felt wrong. There was something weird about him, and no one could help him.
~* ~* ~
He had learnt to observe and recognise Snape's movements to duel with him, but that wasn't the reason why he kept remembering later the way Snape would pivot on his heels, the way he would take out his wand, the way the muscles in his shoulders and chest would tense to the point of being visible beneath his robes.
It was easiest to observe him in the Potions classes, when any distraction wouldn't result in Harry being violently thrown against a wall, or being flipped over in the air - Snape seemed to have a special preference for this spell, exactly the same Harry had seen James cast on Snape in the pensieve. Maybe Snape was trying to get even with James through his son. (Harry was well aware of the hate he inspired in Snape.)
Sometimes Snape would catch him staring, and would come near, looming over him and inquiring about the potion he was working on. Inevitably, Harry would have made some mistake. But Harry didn't mind. The closeness of the Potions master would send him to another dimension filled with sensations, some of them unpleasant, disgusting, but others... The scent, the presence of the other wizard, the feeling of his breath on his skin - it stirred Harry's senses and set his pulse racing madly.
There was something wrong about Harry. More and more he acknowledged it. But that didn't stop him from picture himself, in the duelling class, dominating Snape physically.
Or even... being dominated by him. Both prospects seemed equally repulsive and seductive.
And when Harry woke up ejaculating in the middle of the night after a steamy dream about Snape, he clenched his hands in the sheets, bit his lip not to cry out and knew for sure that there was something very wrong happening inside his mind.
~* ~* ~
Snape caught him staring at him again in the Potions class. When Snape approached, the sudden fire that flashed from the depth of the black eyes showed to Harry that the teacher had finally understood.
Harry blushed immediately and braced himself to see a smirk spread across the Potions master's face. But no. The look on Snape's face made Harry shiver. Harry acknowledged it for what it was: lust. The same lust that plagued Harry. The floor seemed to shake with the beat of their hearts. Harry thanked the gods he was seated. Snape closed his eyes, then turned his back to Harry and walked away.
~* ~* ~
At the end of the class, Harry went to his dormitory and almost threw up. How could that be happening? Snape was a filthy bastard. How could he lust for him that way? Could it be true, then, what they said about teenagers' hormones? But why did his hormones have to go nuts just for... Snape?
Harry tried to pretend nothing had happened. However, in the next class of duelling practice with Snape, every time their eyes met Harry would lose his concentration.
"Pay attention, Potter," Snape insisted.
As if he, Snape, wasn't clearly unsettled either.
~* ~* ~
A similar scene repeated itself many times in the next classes, to such a point that Harry wasn't progressing in his learning any more.
Clearly losing his patience, Snape snatched Harry's wand from his hand and fixed on him his basilisk eyes. "Potter, you are wasting my time."
"It's not my fault!"
"You don't keep your focus."
"You know what I'm talking about," said Harry, almost yelling.
"No, I don't," Snape replied in his lowest tone.
Then the world seemed to stop for a few seconds, and Harry pushed his teacher against the nearest piece of furniture - Snape's desk - and pressed his body against him, burying his face in the older wizard's chest.
At first, Snape froze. Harry took advantage to rub his aroused cock against his teacher's thigh. A moan escaped from his throat, and he tried to set a rhythm. But Snape grabbed his shoulders fiercely, stopping him.
Harry tried to force him and go on, but the other wizard was physically stronger. Anger got hold of Harry. He wouldn't have any of that. He wouldn't be humiliated by Snape that way. Harry wouldn't beg. Never. As a last resort, he reached out and held Snape's cock in his hand. When he touched it, he found it already hard beneath the robes, and squeezed it.
Snape gasped and let both their wands fall on the floor. Harry wasn't concerned about them. He swallowed the wave of disgust rising from his guts to be touching Snape, the greasy bastard, so intimately, and focused on pressing his own aroused cock against Snape's thigh at the same time that he stroked the older wizard's cock.
Snape had now completely surrendered to his caresses, and thrust against Harry's hand, wrapping his arms around his waist and sinking his teeth in his neck.
Vampire, thought Harry sardonically. I'm wanking the slimy vampire. How ridiculous he is, rubbing against me like this. And he pants like a beast.
Snape lowered his hands to Harry's arse and, letting a throaty moan escape his lips, pulled both cheeks against him. The pressure was too much for Harry, who felt his cock throbbing, bit Snape's chest through his robes and spilt his semen into his own clothes.
When Harry could breathe again, he noticed that Snape had reversed their positions, turning him around to face the desk, and now was rocking rhythmically against his arse. Harry didn't dare to move. He stood there, firmly, holding back his disgust, until Snape let out a choked cry and collapsed on Harry's back, his body shaking wildly.
Harry wished to disappear, to be anywhere but there, but he was trapped. And when he felt Snape's body backing away from his, he almost didn't have the courage to turn around. When he did it, however, Snape wasn't in the room any more. Harry thanked the gods for that and took advantage of the moment to leave the Potions master's office.
~* ~* ~
The problem was that Snape was still his teacher, and Harry would have to face him again almost every day. Another problem was that, in spite of all the revulsion and hate he felt for him, every time he remembered the scene in the Potions master's office his cock became erect and unbearably hard.
He struggled hard and managed not to look at his teacher in the next Potions class. Snape also didn't seem eager to confront him; for the first time since Harry had arrived at Hogwarts, Snape didn't address him at all during the class.
However, when the time for his next class of duelling practice came, Harry knew he would have to face Snape; he wouldn't have any escape.
He knocked at the door, and Snape ordered him to come in, as always. Trembling, Harry lowered the handle, pushed the heavy door open, took a deep breath and entered the office.
Harry was thrown against the wall and fell to the ground.
"Haven't I told you to be prepared from the moment you enter here, Potter? Get up. Let's start again."
Harry closed his eyes and didn't move. Bastard. He was going to pay for it. Harry inhaled deeply, clenched his hand around his wand and stood up.
The fifty minutes that followed were some of the most difficult of Harry's life - and this considering he had already faced a basilisk and the most powerful Dark Wizard in the universe! The violence of the spells exchanged was such that many times Harry thought of countering with an Unforgivable. He only didn't because he didn't want Snape to accuse him of not being able to stop him with 'normal' spells.
At the end of the class time, Snape snarled, "Class is over. You can go. Be more careful next time."
Harry leant on the desk with both hands, exhausted.
"Get out. I can't spend my whole day playing nanny to the Golden Boy."
Fury possessed Harry completely, making him charge at his teacher. Snape backed away, and pointed his wand at him.
"You are a wizard, not an orangutan, Potter. If you are going to attack a teacher of your school, do it with a wand, at least."
Harry took a deep breath, trying to recompose himself. "Don't think you fool me. Behind this cool façade, you're shaking more than me. That's why you attacked me so violently today."
"I don't know what you are talking about. I am only fulfilling my role as a teacher."
"And in the previous class, which role were you fulfilling?"
Harry noticed he had gone too far when Snape became paler than a corpse. But that wouldn't stop him. On the contrary. As in the previous time, he took advantage of Snape's state of shock to charge at him and push him against the wall.
What he didn't expect was the intensity of his own body's response: Harry hardened immediately. Snape's reaction was also unexpected: all the violence the older wizard had used during the class seemed to transmute into a lust he clearly couldn't contain any more. Snape grabbed him as if he wanted to penetrate him with his entire body. "What do you want, little fiend," he whispered in Harry's ear. "To humiliate me? Destroy me?"
Almost choking, Harry shook his head. "N-no. I just want... this," he answered, pressing his hips against Snape's.
Snape responded trying to kiss him, but Harry turned his face in revulsion. While he did it, he could sense how Snape was feeling rejected, and held him firmly not to let him go. "Touch me. Like the other time. I'll... do the same to you."
Snape lifted Harry's robes and took them off. Harry was now only on his underwear, and he felt terribly vulnerable. Snape embraced him and tried to stroke his body, but Harry wouldn't have any of that. He grabbed the older wizard by his robes and pulled them up over his head, undressing him.
To say that Snape's body wasn't beautiful would be an understatement. His muscles were well defined, but he was too skinny and bony, full of angles; his limbs were too thin, his ribs were sticking out, and his sallow skin was marred by scars and spots. His engorged cock, fully erect and stretching the briefs, made Harry swallow hard, not knowing if out of fear or desire. But Snape pulled him against his body again. This time the contact was skin-to-skin, and Harry's body ignited. Harry gasped. Snape held his hand and guided it to his cock, pulling it out of his briefs. It was warm, and its tip was already leaking pre-come. Harry felt as if he were in a dream; not exactly a nightmare, but a very strange dream. Was he really there, was he really starting to pump Snape's cock? He almost couldn't believe it; but the dream became even more unreal when his own cock was released from the confinement of his briefs and fit perfectly into the Potions master's skilful hand.
Oh yes, Snape had skilful hands, that was undeniable. And the musky scent that Snape exuded, instead of leaving Harry nauseated, as it should, aroused him further. Harry didn't last much more, and came biting Snape's shoulder.
Once again, he wanted to disappear. But he had to fulfil his part in the bargain. Managing to control his disgust, Harry curled his fingers around Snape's cock again and pumped it harder, anxious to get rid of the task. Snape didn't complain about the treatment; on the contrary, he thrust against Harry's hand faster and faster. When Snape's semen spurted, hot and thick all over his hand, the feeling of unreality hit Harry even harder, and when Snape pulled him against his body again, as if trying to milk the last drops of pleasure while embracing Harry, Harry let himself be used, feeling somewhat pathetic.
~* ~* ~
From then on, every class of duelling practice ended that way, in quick gropings and fumblings and no words exchanged.
For Harry, everything was very clear. It was just sex. A natural drive, a necessity. There was nothing to be said about it. Nothing should be said. Snape was still a greasy, nasty, repulsive bastard. Sex was nothing but this: something filthy, shameful. Whoever said otherwise lied. That was how Harry saw it. Maybe other people could be deluded, but not Harry. And it was better that way. He couldn't become attached to anyone. Everyone to whom he became attached would be in danger. He couldn't forget what had happened to his parents, Cedric, and Sirius.
One day, at the end of the class of duelling practice, Snape grabbed a phial on a shelf and spread some of the green lotion on his fingers. "Take off your clothes, turn around and lean against the desk."
Harry complied, his heart beating wildly. Snape approached from behind, separated Harry's buttocks and introduced his forefinger into Harry's entrance, slowly.
It was a rather uncomfortable sensation, but the last thing Harry wanted was for Snape to remove his finger. Snape wrapped his left arm around him, pushed his finger deeper and buried his chin in the curve of Harry's neck to whisper in his ear, "You are a virgin."
"No, I'm not."
"Liar." Snape was almost purring in his ear, with that hoarse voice that made Harry shiver in lust. "Don't worry, I'm not going to take your virginity."
Harry wanted his virginity to go to hell, but the truth was that he didn't know very well what he wanted right now. All that he knew was that he wanted that finger to do exactly what it was doing. He also knew he wanted more. He was trying to rub his cock against the hard desk, but Snape held his cock into his left hand. Harry almost melted. The bastard didn't pump him, though. He only stayed there, holding him and sliding his finger in and out. Harry groaned in frustration.
"What do you want?" This time Snape was really purring. "Perhaps if I touch you... here?"
Snape had entered even deeper and flexed his finger, and Harry saw stars. Harry put his own hand on his mouth so as not to cry out. "Oh gods. What have you..." He almost could feel Snape's smug smile behind him. Slimy git.
Now Snape was nibbling his earlobe, continuing to fuck him with his finger, teasing him mercilessly.
"Please..." Harry bit his lip. The bastard had made him beg. Snape responded immediately flexing his finger again, and the wave of pleasure that hit Harry was so strong he arched his body backwards, leaning on the older wizard's body, and poured his semen over Snape's hand and the desk.
When Harry turned around, he saw Snape gazing at him with an emotion he couldn't identify. There he was, the Potions master, his own cock fully erect, observing the reactions of his most hated student almost with worship! What game the ex-Death Eater was playing? Harry couldn't understand. He told himself he didn't want to understand, and left the office without a word.
~* ~* ~
Now Harry's obsession was to be fucked by Snape. Nothing else could satisfy him.
"I want you to... you know... I want you to take me. Now."
"Not now. If you stay too long after the class, people will notice. Come to my quarters after curfew. With your Invisibility Cloak."
~* ~* ~
Snape, wearing a green robe, opened the door and led Harry to his bedroom - an austere room with no serpents, Salazar Slytherin portraits or jars with dead animals, lit only by the pale flame of a candle.
Snape grabbed him and tried to kiss him, but Harry averted his face, as always.
"No kisses, Snape. No fumbling around."
Harry saw the older wizard swallowing hard, evidently frustrated.
"If you came after a rapist, you knocked at the wrong door. Either you let me prepare you conveniently or..."
"All right, but no kisses," Harry replied dryly.
He heard Snape inhaling deeply and taking off his robe. He wasn't wearing anything beneath it. Harry felt his throat dry up and undressed with trembling hands. Finally he got rid of his shoes and briefs, and lifted his eyes to Snape.
"You don't want to keep your glasses, I suppose," Snape drawled.
Harry was going to shake his head, but had to smile because of his own distraction. Then he felt like a fool for smiling in front of Snape and bit his lip. He took off his glasses and, glancing around, decided to put them on the bedside table.
Meanwhile, Snape had stretched languidly on his bed. His half-erect cock seemed to beg for Harry's touch. But Harry's cock was still limp, and Harry felt wrong once again.
He couldn't give up now, though. It would be pathetic, and Snape would think he was a coward.
He climbed onto the bed as if it were a scaffold, and lay down beside the greasy bat he had chosen - yes, he had chosen! - as his partner. The bed was barely large enough for the two men to lie side-by-side.
Snape turned to face him, and rested his open palm on one of Harry's nipples. Harry let out a soft moan, but quickly brushed Snape's hand away.
Snape passed an arm around him and leant his head to approach his lips to that nipple Harry was trying to protect. Harry pushed him aside. Snape sighed. "You're an idiot, Potter. You don't know a thing about life."
"Are you going to keep insulting me or what?"
Snape shook his head, looking discouraged.
Harry didn't know what to do, so he did the only thing that he knew would make Snape react: he took the older wizard's cock in his hand. Snape, however, pushed him away, slowly but firmly, and reached out to fetch the phial of lube from the bedside table drawer. "If that's what you want, that's what you're going to have."
Snape rolled him onto his stomach and spread his legs. Harry breathed heavily and felt Snape's scent on his pillow. With his greasy hair, the pillowcase had to be slimy. However, for some inexplicable reason, that smell aroused him, and when Snape's finger slid into his entrance, Harry's cock stirred.
Silently, Snape prepared him with one finger, then two. They had already done that before, many times. Harry had learnt to relax around Snape's fingers. He only started to feel some discomfort when Snape introduced a third finger. But when Snape rubbed his pleasure gland, Harry moaned softly.
Then Snape removed his fingers, and Harry wanted to curse him for that. He only refrained from doing it not to give the greasy bat the pleasure to see how much Harry was aroused and aching for more.
Soon Snape was spreading Harry's legs, separating his buttocks and pressing his cock into him.
Gods. Harry gripped the mattress with all his might. That was painful. It was ripping him open. And Snape was murmuring something unintelligible at his back, panting like a pig. Harry felt tears well up in his eyes. When he thought he was going to faint in pain, Snape slid one of his hands beneath his body to pump his cock. Pain blended with arousal and pleasure, and Harry let out a strange groan. Snape stopped for a second and held him against his body. His heart was beating so loud that Harry could hear it along with his own, both beating wildly in uneven rhythms. Suddenly, Snape changed pace and angle completely, and plunged to the root, his balls rubbing against Harry's cheeks at each thrust. Harry began to melt, and couldn't stop the sounds of pleasure coming from his throat. Pleasure took him slowly, in waves that became more and more intense until he came with a shuddering surge and a low moan.
Snape continued to thrust against him, panting harder and harder. When he finally came, Snape collapsed over Harry saying his name, almost in a whisper.
It was scary. Snape had never called him by his first name. And the emotion that filled Snape's voice let Harry stunned.
Perhaps pleasure did that to Snape, thought Harry. It wasn't so strange. Harry himself, when he had come, had thought about Snape differently. Just for a moment. But that was foolish. Sex was sex, and just sex.
~* ~* ~
And sex, just sex, was what they started to have, not every night, but every night Harry could escape to the dungeons.
"Potter, what do you have against foreplay? Why do you abhor anything besides the one-finger-two-fingers-three-fingers preparation?"
"Nothing, Snape. I just don't want you to touch me more than necessary."
He hadn't finished the sentence when he realised he had gone too far. It was so weird, to know that he had stung the powerful Potions master, former Death Eater. Harry wanted to vomit and doubled over on the bed. Snape interpreted that in the most negative way.
"If I am so repulsive, why do you come here almost every night?"
Harry couldn't back out now. There was only one possible reply. "It's sex, Snape. Just sex."
~* ~* ~
It was always like that: they would shag, then Harry would leave immediately. He wouldn't stay there any further, having seen Snape's flushed face, his eyes clouded in arousal, his panting chest and, finally, his entire body convulsing in pleasure.
One night, however, after one of those climaxes that almost left him unconscious, Harry, drained and sleepy, stayed a little longer beside Snape. Harry kept his arms stretched along his own body, and Snape rested his arm on Harry's waist. Harry was feeling too sleepy and too lazy to get up.
Then Snape leant in toward his face and, before Harry could push him away, kissed him.
At first, Harry froze. Every time Snape had tried before, Harry had averted his face, but that time, perhaps because he was so tired and drowsy, he hadn't done it. Snape's lips were smooth, warm and pliable, and touched his delicately. For a moment, Harry wanted to open his lips and welcome the tongue that now begged for entrance, but no. If he permitted that to happen, he wouldn't be able to look at himself in the mirror afterwards. He didn't have to make much effort to push Snape away. "I told you not to do that. It's disgusting."
Snape's face contorted in fury, and strong arms threw Harry out of the bed. "Get out now. That's enough. You're just like your father. Don't ever come back to my quarters again. You'll have to find another disgusting creep to be your doormat. Your duelling classes with me are cancelled. You can practise with Flitwick. He's a competent duellist."
Pulling himself up, Harry looked at the older wizards with wide eyes. Still stunned, he searched for his clothes, dressed himself, put his glasses on and left without saying a word. The Potions master didn't even follow him to the door.
~* ~* ~
When Harry arrived at his dormitory and curled up under his blankets, he felt a lump in his throat and choked back a sob. He hugged his pillow tightly.
Harry knew now that Snape had tolerated more than enough. Now that it was too late Harry could see what Snape had been trying to show him all that time. Now that kiss Harry had rejected was everything he wanted.
You don't know what you have until you lose it. But the truth was that he had wanted it before. He had wanted Snape's lips on his, Snape's hands all over his body. He hadn't had the courage to admit it even to himself. To admit that he liked to be with Snape.
Harry remembered every inch of that ugly and repulsive body he had come to know in all those nights of... pleasure. And felt a pang of loss deep in his chest to think that he would never run his hands through that dark greasy hair, and that those thin lips would never touch his.
Yes, he had had fear. Fear of feeling. Fear of feeling what he
was feeling now, which was the darkest despair. How ironic it was that,
for fear, he had shut himself away from feelings, and that, just because
of that, now he was feeling precisely what he had feared to feel.
~* ~* ~
Time passed by, and Harry didn't have the courage to go after Snape. Depression took over his life, and he lost all motivation and interest in things.
About a month after the night Snape had sent him away, Snape didn't show up to give his Potions class. Professor Sprout, who replaced him, said he was in the hospital wing. The Gryffindors exulted, and Harry wanted to punch them, even if they were his friends and were doing exactly the same thing he would have done a few weeks before.
In agony, Harry waited until the end of the class and, leaving his friends with the excuse that he wasn't feeling well (which wasn't a lie), he walked to the hospital wing.
Madam Pomfrey approached him. "What winds bring you here, Potter?"
"Er... I would like to see Professor Snape."
She stared at him, astonished. "He can't receive visitors. His condition is very delicate."
"What happened to him?"
"Potter, I have no permission to talk to the students about my patient's condition. Ask the Headmaster; he might explain the situation to you."
Crestfallen, Harry left the hospital wing.
The Headmaster? No, he couldn't ask Dumbledore. The old codger might suspect his motives.
~* ~* ~
Nonetheless, as Dumbledore had once implied, secrets didn't last very long in Hogwarts. On that very afternoon, rumours were already spreading through the corridors. After sorting out the exaggerations from the probable facts, Harry had concluded that Voldemort had found out that Snape was spying on him, and had tortured him brutally. Snape had managed to send the Order a sign for help and an indication of his whereabouts, and a group from the Order, led by Shacklebolt, had departed to rescue him. When they arrived there, Snape was already unconscious. The battle was hard, and was decided only by the arrival of Dumbledore. Not wanting to face him, Voldemort and his minions had run away, leaving Snape behind.
Harry imagined that Snape must have suffered more than the Longbottoms. No one would escape with their sanity intact after a torture conducted by Voldemort himself.
~* ~* ~
Harry waited until midnight, put on his Invisibility Cloak and entered the hospital wing. He found Snape alone in one of the beds, apparently asleep.
Harry approached and touched his arm. No reaction. He pulled up a chair and sat next to his bed.
~* ~* ~
A moan woke him up. He opened his eyes and remembered where he was: he had fallen asleep next to Snape's bed in the hospital wing.
Snape was unquiet now, murmuring incomprehensible things and moving his hands as if trying to reach for something. "Harry..."
Harry's heart skip a beat. With a sudden impulse, he stood up, took off his Cloak and dropped it over the chair. Then he held Snape's hand. "I'm here, Severus."
Severus's hand closed around his strongly, almost hurting him. Severus opened his eyes and stared at him with a dizzy look. "What..."
"It's all right, Severus. Everything's all right."
Snape loosened his grip a little, shut his eyes and fell asleep again. Without losing hold of Snape's hand, Harry sat on the chair.
~* ~* ~
Someone was stroking his hair. It was good. So good. Afraid of waking up from that pleasant dream, Harry didn't want to open his eyes. However, reality gradually infiltrated his thoughts.
Harry lifted up his head and saw Severus startle and withdraw his hand.
"What... Oh. You're awake! How're you feeling?" asked Harry.
Harry smiled. "So you must be healing."
"What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you to wake up."
Harry reached out and stroke Severus's face with his knuckles. Then he leant and dropped a light kiss on his lips. "To tell you that I love you."
Severus touched Harry's lips with his forefinger. Then he narrowed his eyes at him and shook his head. "You think I am going to die and want to make one of those grandiose Gryffindor gestures. Forget it. I am not going to die so soon."
"Of course you're not going to die. I wouldn't let you."
"Your megalomania is getting out of hand, Potter."
Harry gave a sad smile. "Don't tell me about my hero complex, after what you did yesterday."
"Yesterday? What... oh, no." Severus tried to sit up, but was stopped by pain.
Harry pushed him back against the bed, gently but firmly. "Stay put, don't be a fool! They tortured you; you must be all broken inside!"
"I must speak to the Headmaster. Voldemort discovered what I have been doing for the Order."
"Everybody knows, Severus. Stay calm."
"The Order sent a group, and Dumbledore himself went and rescued you."
Severus arched an eyebrow, then seemed to relax. "I... didn't let him see anything about you. He found out that I was the spy who revealed to the Order his plans for a raid in Hogsmeade two weeks ago. When I realised my cover had been blown, I closed my mind. I put myself into an induced coma. I turned off my mind."
"That's why you didn't suffer any mental damage. They could torture your body, but they couldn't reach your mind."
Severus nodded. "I need to see the Headmaster."
"I can't call him, you know. I'm not supposed to be here. But as soon as I leave you, you can call Madam Pomfrey."
"I still don't understand what you are doing here."
"I told you. I came to tell you I love you."
The Potions master's face acquired a strange dreamy expression, but just for a few seconds. Then a smirk curved his lips. "Don't think that your life is going to become easier because of that."
~* ~* ~
Harry went to visit Severus in the hospital wing every day. He had decided not to hide from anyone that he didn't hate Snape any more. Severus wouldn't be able to spy again, so they didn't need to pretend they hated each other. Hermione congratulated him for his change - "finally you seem to be maturing, Harry"; Ron wrinkled his nose - "so you don't hate the greasy git any more, okay, but visit him every day? Ewwww!" Harry just shook his head and started to talk about Quidditch. He was too happy to let Ron spoil his mood.
Harry would tell Severus in detail everything that happened in the school. After four days, Severus could already sit up on his bed, and was getting more and more uneasy, wanting to resume his routine. He always asked about his Slytherins, which forced Harry to pay attention to his nemeses.
Harry mocked him. "You really like those snakelets, don't you?"
"Of course I do. They are my snakelets."
"Possessive, are you?"
Severus fixed his most piercing look on Harry. "You have no idea."
That look and those words had an immediate and very embarrassing effect on Harry. "Er... I think I'll have to go now."
Severus widened his eyes, then stared intently at him again. "You... didn't have anyone since..."
Harry shook his head. "You're the only one that I want."
Severus reached out and squeezed Harry's arm. "Go, Harry, or we will be in serious trouble."
~* ~* ~
One week after, Madame Pomfrey let Severus come back to his quarters in the dungeons. The Headmaster insisted that he should rest one more week before resuming his classes.
"Are you sure that this rest thing includes..."
"I am, Potter."
"Harry. I am sure. Furthermore, I am not going to rest until I show you what awaits you," said Severus, lifting Harry in his arms and carrying him from the sitting-room to the bedroom.
"This sounds ominous," Harry commented, still in Severus's arms and starting to unfasten his buttons.
"You will see." Severus laid him on the bed. "I waited a long time for this."
A shiver ran down Harry's spine, but it wasn't out of fear. It was out of sheer expectation.
Severus took off Harry's glasses and robes, leaving only his briefs, and lay by Harry's side. Propping his head on his right arm, Severus brushed Harry's fringe out of his eyes, staring at Harry so intently that Harry felt his body burning. Then Harry saw Severus leaning his face, and closed his eyes to receive that kiss he had rejected so many times.
This time, when touched by Severus's warm and smooth lips, his own lips opened and pressed against Severus's. Their tongues met, and their bodies searched for each other, intertwining eagerly. Severus teased him, nibbling his lips, tracing them with his tongue, and then simply broke the kiss and pulled away. Harry was going to protest when he saw Severus taking off his robes.
Now only on his underwear, Severus wedged a leg between Harry's and captured his lips again in a lustful, searing kiss.
Foreplay was a totally new experience for Harry, and he revelled in every detail: the noises, the smells, the sensations. He was also surprised to realise how much he wanted to reciprocate. Harry was very inexperienced in this aspect, but Severus responded so intensely to his touches that Harry couldn't help feeling smug and even more aroused.
While Severus played with his ear, licking and nibbling his earlobe, Harry rubbed his fingertip over one of Severus's nipples, making him moan in pleasure.
As if wanting to prove that every body part could be erotic, Severus held one of Harry's feet and began to languidly suck his toes, one by one. The heat and wetness closing around his toes was almost too much for Harry. If Severus could do that to him just sucking his toes, what would happen if... But Harry didn't have time to think beyond the present moment, because Severus had slipped his hand inside his briefs and was squeezing his buttocks. Unable to stand the pressure on his cock any more, Harry took off his briefs; Severus mimicked him. When there was nothing else between their bodies, Severus pressed his cock against Harry's.
What Severus had apparently planned as a one-way torture, where he would make Harry beg for clemency, ended up becoming a battle of caresses, dominance alternating between the two.
However, when Severus softly rubbed his face on Harry's cock and, holding its base, blew hot air over its tip, Harry knew that, from then on, Severus was going to take the lead, and Harry would be the victim of his attentions. When Severus closed his lips around the tip of his cock, Harry felt all the pleasure concentrating there, and his hips jerked up as if by their own will.
"Oh, gods," Harry exclaimed in a hoarse and strained voice. Then Severus started to flick that devilish tongue along the underside of his cock. Oh, what a sweet torture to feel that warm and wet mouth enveloping his cock, which didn't want to be anywhere else. Why was it so perfect? And those lips applying more and more pressure as they went slowly deeper and deeper, until his cock was touching Severus's throat, oh, that was too good, and now Severus was blowing cold air around it, just to envelop his cock in his warmth again. Harry moaned and his cock throbbed. Severus's mouth, unrelenting, closed around his cock more firmly, sucking, going up and down faster, and it was so good that Harry couldn't hold back his movements or the noises that escaped from his throat. To make things even worse, Severus squeezed and massaged his balls. Harry tightened unbearably. He wanted, he needed to come now, but Severus released his balls and now was massaging the sensitive area behind them and sliding a finger into his hole, just the way he knew Harry liked, stretching him, fucking him with his finger while his mouth worked magic on Harry's cock. When Severus flexed his finger, touching that tiny gland that would make Harry cry out in ecstasy, the wave of pleasure that hit him was so strong that the world seemed to freeze for a moment before pleasure took over his entire body. Coming into Severus's mouth, Harry closed his eyes and felt himself floating in bliss.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Severus by his side. Severus kissed him, and in his lips Harry felt his own scent.
"Wow. I need to recover my breath... and my consciousness. But when I can breathe and think again... would you let me do the same thing to you?" Harry asked.
Severus stared at him as if not believing his ears. "You won't like it."
"Why not? I've always liked your scent, even when I..." Harry stopped, but it was too late.
"When you were repulsed by me," Severus completed bitterly.
"Don't talk like that."
Severus rolled to his back, and sighed. "It's the truth."
"I was a bastard. Forgive me."
"This won't help now."
"Why are you remembering those bad things right now?" asked Harry, approaching Severus and resting his palm on his chest.
"Do you think it's easy to forget?"
"No. I think you'll never forgive me. I can live with this feeling; I can stand feeling guilty forever. But I don't know if I can live without you. You have to give me another chance."
"All this time, Harry, I wanted to make love to you, not just fuck you."
"I know, Severus. Now I know. Forgive me. Or not. I don't deserve to be forgiven. But let me try again."
"Can you explain me how a person stops feeling disgust for another person?"
"I was an idiot, just that. I was afraid."
"Afraid of what? Of whom? Of the former Death Eater?"
"Afraid of... getting involved. For me it was important to separate
sex and... that other thing I didn't want to feel. It was important that
it was just sex."
"I know it's stupid. But I needed to see sex as something filthy, disgusting. It wasn't you. It was my fear."
Severus shook his head, but looked more tranquil. "Sometimes I forget that you are only seventeen." He lifted his left arm. "I was seventeen when I was given this tattoo. I used to be very proud of it."
Harry didn't know how much Severus's understanding would help him. It seemed a two-edged knife. "Er... I know I was very confused and wrong, but... it's not the same thing."
"I see. You think you are better than I was, of course," Severus snapped, more mockingly than sardonically this time.
"It's different not because I'm better than you were, but because you're not Voldemort, and also because..." - Harry snuggled closer to Severus and started to play with one of his nipples, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger - ... this is going to work."
"Self-confident, are we?" It was evident that Severus was trying to keep the scornful tone, but his voice was already husky with desire.
"Let me make you feel good too," Harry roamed his eyes over the skinny body full of scars and spots. If he could analyse Severus's body objectively, he would have to qualify it as 'ugly'. But how to be objective if that was the body he desired? Severus's half-erect cock seemed to beg for his touch, his dark eyes seemed to want to suck him in, and Harry got lost inside them. "Please, Severus. I want it so much!"
Severus cupped his face in his hands. Words seemed to have deserted him, and there was a gleam in his eyes. Severus swallowed hard and nodded. Then he sealed his lips to Harry's.
When the kiss came to an end, Severus's usually pale face was flushed and hot. Harry traced a wet path from there to the earlobe, which he nibbled and licked thoroughly.
"Do you like this?"
Severus gasped. "Yes."
"I like when you do this to me too."
"I know. Even when you wouldn't let me kiss you, you would let me bite your earlobe."
Harry felt a pang in his heart realising how deeply he had hurt Severus. He wanted to compensate him for all that. His tongue trailed down to the hollow of Severus's throat, and Harry smiled seeing how Severus turned his face to expose his skin to his caresses. While he licked and kissed that sensitive area, Harry tangled his fingers in the dark hair at Severus's chest, brushing his nipples occasionally - Harry knew how Severus's nipples were sensitive too. Severus was amazingly responsive, as if he had longed for that for ages. Carefully, Harry nested between Severus's legs, and fastened his mouth around a nipple. Severus arched up and lifted both knees. Harry twirled his tongue around it while pinching the other nipple sharply with this fingertips. He saw them darkening and hardening, and went on sucking them and scrapping his teeth gently across them.
Harry descended further, kneeling between Severus's legs and licking his navel; then, teasing him cruelly, brushed his nose in his pubic hair. Severus murmured incoherently and fisted his hands in the sheet.
Harry stroked the soft skin of his thighs and squeezed his muscles gently. Severus was impossibly hard, his cock flattened against his belly. Harry leant to kiss his inner thighs, and Severus moaned. In reply, Harry cupped his balls with both hands and massaged them delicately. Severus writhed. Finally taking pity on his lover, Harry curled his fingers around the base of his cock and, slowly, approached it with his lips.
Harry licked the whole length of Severus's cock along the underside and felt it throb. A drop of pre-come rolled from its tip, and Harry licked it immediately. "Mmm, you taste good, Severus," said Harry, lifting his head.
The look of sheer pleasure and passion he saw on Severus's face made Harry's heart skip a beat. Then Harry turned back to the matter at hand, licking his cock all over again, this time savouring the drop of salty liquid for a moment before swallowing it. He felt Severus shuddering and then arching his body when he took the tip of his cock into his mouth, sucking it. Harry went down slowly, letting his lips rub firmly over the delicate skin. Still holding the base firmly, Harry continued sucking up and down, gradually increasing his speed and taking more and more into his mouth. With his free hand, Harry fondled Severus's balls.
When Severus arched up and reached down to hold his head with both hands, Harry knew he was very near the edge. He sucked harder, and Severus arched up one more time, saying his name and spilling his semen into Harry's mouth. Harry not only swallowed it all but milked him dry and licked the remaining drops along his cock.
Severus held Harry's arm and pulled him up gently. Framing his face, Severus kissed him tenderly. The older wizard's heart was beating fast. When Severus tore his lips from Harry's, out of breath, Severus's sated expression made Harry smile.
"Why are you smiling so smugly?" Severus inquired.
"Me? Nothing. After all, this is just sex, isn't it?"
"I'm not sure yet. Will you spend the night here or not?" Severus asked, and Harry felt that, in spite of the mocking tone, that was very important to Severus.
"You know it's dangerous; we can't risk being caught. But if you want me to stay, I will."
"Do you want to stay or not?"
"Of course I want to!"
Severus let out his breath, relaxed and snuggled close to Harry's body. The bed was not very large; they would sleep more comfortably if they were in each other's arms. Before falling asleep, Harry still heard Severus whispering in his ear, "Don't think you fool me, little fiend. You are staying just because you know there will be more in the morning."
Short sequel, from Snape's PoV: Defenceless
Ptyx, March 2005