Moment of Truth
"You must focus! Look me in the eye!"
"No! You can't make me!"
"Goddamn it, do as I tell you! The Dark Lord won't say please!"
He wrenches your chin until your eyes are level with his and stares into your eyes. You try to blink but his lip curls. "Open. Your. Eyes."
You struggle. The Veritaserum is in your blood, telling you to do as he says, its twisted claws burning your nerves until you think you might scream. It hurts so much to deny him, and yet you still fight his words.
It is, after all, part of your training.
"P-please!" You cry, doubling over as you try not to gag.
The pain is a thorn-covered noose that tightens around your neck until you can barely breathe. You're gasping, your fingers clawing at the front of his robes as though they're the only thing keeping you from drowning.
And then, like that, it is over.
"You did well, but that was only one drop," is all he will tell you, turning away and handing you a linen napkin.
It is only then that you realize that your face is covered in tears and snot and saliva. You don't remember how it happened, just that the pain pulled you inside of yourself and you missed it.
"I will do better next time," you rasp, staring at the backs of his shoes.
"I know."
"What should I call you when we're doing this together?"
His cheeks color slightly at your words and it takes you a moment to realize why.
"Don't be inappropriate," he scoffs, turning to the cabinet where he keeps the Veritaserum. "Today we're going to try two drops."
You steel your mind, instinctively shutting down all of the doors in your mind until there's a single pathway of innocuous thoughts.
"Your breathing technique has improved," he comment, pressing his hand against your belly and nodding as you breath deeply using your diaphragm and try not to press into his touch. "Now, then, hold out your tongue."
He's looming over you with the vial and as you slowly open your mouth and stick out your tongue, you catch him giving you an odd look. You hold your tongue out and watch his long, artistic fingers unstoppering the vial, slowly swirling around the concoction inside with his other hand. You know the pain is coming, but for now you savor the little moments of movement, the herbal, musky scent of him standing so close to you as you look up at him with trusting eyes, your cheeks growing pink at the sudden lurid thoughts that are rising in your head. For a moment, his eyes widen as he stares down at you and you think that you see his pupils grow larger in the dim light, but then he grows guarded again and you feel two drops of potion burning your tongue.
At first it's not all that unpleasant. You're filled with the sensation of butterflies and bubbles in your belly and you look at him, feeling the desire to tell him everything, no matter what he asks.
"Tell me about the Order!" Severus demands, and you fight the urge to tell him. It's painful, but not nearly as unmanageable as before. It seems that your fear increases the pain. In fact, for the next ten minutes, he asks an increasing number of damning questions about the Order, about the plans and locations that Order members are briefed upon; in short- anything that Voldemort might try to take from you in the event that you are captured in the line of duty.
"We all hope that the worst will not come to pass, but you must be prepared before you can be trusted with anything important. We'll take a small recess and then continue," Severus sighs, as you sit back in the char, throwing your head back and gasping.
This time, there are no ugly tears or snot running down your nose, and you are infinitely glad to avoid the humiliation.
"Did you have to do this too?" you ask, looking at him tiredly.
He nods. "It's worse for natural Occlumens like myself. Apparently, some were under the impression that an Occlumens would simply go insane from the pressure on the brain if Veritaserum was used, but I proved them wrong. Not out of choice, mind you, but in the end...I managed."
You ask him for a glass of water and he obliges, pouring it from a flask near the door. You sniff it before drinking and he raises an eyebrow but nods. It is obvious that he's impressed that you remembered to smell any drink or food offered by someone else.
"You're learning," he says simply. "Now, then, time to continue."
He looks you in the eyes. This is the part that you've been dreading. Now he's going to probe your mind and you resolve not to be sick all over his shoes the way that you only barely avoided doing the day before.
"Breathe," he says, placing his hands on your cheeks until you're nearly forehead to forehead. "I'm going to begin now."
You nod slightly, trying not to think about how wonderful and warm his hands feel on your skin.
You half expected them to be cold and bony, but they're soft and warm and you suppress a soft sigh of pleasure as you moisten your lips.
"Focus!" he hisses, and you notice that he's blushing furiously now.
But then you can't help but thinking about how his hands feel on you, how much you want him to...
"Good lord!" he cries, withdrawing from you immediately. He stands and begins to pace. "Do you have any sense of propriety?"
"I...didn't want you to see that..." you mumble, but the potion in your veins disagrees. It wants him to see everything.
"I was talking about the...desk and...the...I was...naked!" he splutters, covering his mouth with one hand as though trying to hold back saying anything further.
Your eyes widen and you realize what he saw, your blood growing cold with mortification.
"I...I can explain!" you squeak, but he won't hear it.
"It doesn't matter," he replies, taking a deep breath and trying to compose himself. Finally he turns back to you and kneels down again. You realize you're blushing before the heat rises on your cheeks and he shakes his head angrily.
"Stop distracting me!" he growls.
"But...I'm...not-"
He runs one hand through his hair and grumbles under his breath about "stupid Black and his stupid tricks" before he finally looks up at you skeptically. "I don't know who put you up to this, but it's not funny at all."
You shoot him a confused look and shake your head. "I'm not lying about anything...I just...I had this dream last week and..."
Severus goes scarlet and very, very quiet as his hands fly to his face.
"That was real?" he hisses at last, "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
"Well, it wasn't exactly real," you say with a shrug, feeling the bubbles in your belly tickling away merrily, "but if you wanted to make it real, I'd be there with bells on."
Both of you stare at each other with wide, utterly disbelieving eyes and you clap your hands over your mouth even though it's too late. A small tendon in his neck twitches and his mouth hangs open ever so slightly as though he's been rendered completely speechless.
"It was...the...Veritaserum!" you stammer, "I...I promise..."
"I'd nearly forgotten..." He sits down across from you, still looking somewhat shocked. "But...you know...this might actually be a good thing."
"WHAT?!" you exclaim.
"You...have feelings...for...men?" he asks awkwardly.
"I suppose you could say that," you mutter, looking away from him so as not to share any other naked, writhing mental images of the man before you in compromising positions.
"Very well. If you find yourself slipping, focus on those. They're safe and the Dark Lord won't care about them."
You take a deep breath and try to compose your thoughts. "I suppose it makes sense."
"Very well, let's try again."
You open your mouth to protest, but his eyes are on you and he's in your mind and he's standing next to you watch yourself licking a fantasy version of the man next to you up the knobby expanse of his spine while he moans into a pillow.
"This is highly inappropriate," the Severus next to you says, raising an eyebrow at you, even though his eyes are fixated at the fantasy before him.
"I could say the same for you! You're in my brain!" you protest.
"Very well, let's try something else." He waves his hand and you're in a lush, hidden garden.
Giggles emanate from a swing that's been attached to the tallest tree in the garden. And there's Fantasy Severus along with a Fantasy You sitting side by side and whispering mean things about Voldemort as you kiss and cuddle with each other.
"I do not giggle," he remarks, standing uncomfortably at your side.
"Hence the fantasy?" You retort, still embarrassed but starting to recover. After all, two can play at this game. "Have you ever imagined...someone like this? I spend a lot of time wondering about how you taste."
Immediately, you're no longer in your head, and Severus is staring at the floor looking incredibly flustered.
"I...how could I...I can't answer that question!" he blusters.
"Oh?" you say teasingly, "Would you like to find out?"
He freezes and looks up at you, his expression full of bewilderment. "What?"
"Would you like me to kiss you, Severus Snape?" you ask, finally calling him by his first name.
"W..b...bu...n...um..." He's practically frothing at the mouth.
You give him a sympathetic look, reaching out and caressing his cheek with one hand. "I promise that it won't hurt."
And it is then, when your eyes meet his, you see a glimpse of something that sends a hot needle of pleasure through the core of you.
"Is that so?" you murmur, pulling close to him.
He is frozen, watching the distance between your lips dwindle to nothing and when you kiss him, he moans against your lips, his arms wrapping tightly around you as you slide your fingers through his hair and stroke his cheek gently and kiss him until he's practically gasping into your mouth. He is a raging maw of need and as he stiffens against you, there is no denying that his ardor has awakened the same within yourself.
"Where?" He gasps, grabbing you as though you are weightless and bringing you over to the nearby desk at your direction.
And even though the Veritaserum has mostly worn off, you do not hesitate to tell him all of the racy things that you've been keeping secret until this point- all of the scintillating details of the things you've been fantasizing about doing since you first laid eyes on him.
"We shall do them all and then we shall do them again," he moans, pressing himself against you mindlessly.
You are soon to join him in the madness of your shared desire until you both have had your fill.