Title: Private Heaven
By: neonyellow
Pairing: Albus/Severus
Rated: R
Warnings: semi-graphic slash, angst
Summary: Everything must come to an end eventually.
Notes: Lyrics from 'Iris,' by the Goo Goo Dolls.

Private Heaven

And I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now

It's so very wrong, this whole languid affair. Affair in itself is such a dirty word, especially when used in a text such as this one. But that's what this...thing is: an affair. We don't strut around, declaring our actions. We don't use subtle gestures during meals or staff meetings that hint at our affection. We're not true lovers. We're not married. I'm the thorn in your side, the disgruntled teacher who needs calming. We're colleagues, casual acquaintances and nothing more to the outside world.

And if someone were to find out, I'd be damned. Well, I am this already, but the sentence would surely be doubled. It's my fault, for the blame lies with me. I sully your perfect existence every time I lay a finger on you. Nothing born so deep in the dark like me should ever caress your noble features. I'm your corruptor. But can the Great and Wise Albus Dumbledore really be affected by the likes of me? Are you capable of being corrupted? No, you're incorruptible, Albus. So whose fault is it now? Still mine, in some form or another.

It doesn't matter. Not right now, not when we're alone and safe, and the outside world is tucked safely away from our (your, I'm only visiting) private heaven.

This whole room is bathed in moonlight and smells of fresh fruit and soap. If this really is heaven, then I truly do reside in hell, in my cold, listless dungeon. I never want to go back there, not after the calm quiet of this paradise, where the only sound is the crackling of the fire in the hearth and our breathing. It's perfection.

And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
'Cause sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight

Your mouth tastes of the finest wine, the kind I can only drink with you in your chambers, because I could never afford it on my own. It's rich on your lips, made more decadent by the flavor of lust you shamelessly display. You must have been beautiful in your youth, Albus. You have an unashamed way about you that only comes from true and honest beauty.

I lean back against the soft yellow pillows, reveling in your brightness. You practically glow in the dimness. Your spectacles sit useless on the nightstand, forgotten as your lips trail across my chest, licking and caressing until I cry out for you. Albus, how you have this effect on me is beyond my powers of reasoning.

You're such a terrible tease, but I'd never complain about it. You treat me too well, much better than I deserve. You see to my whims. I fear that if I were to tell you than you'd hurry, and then it would end far too quickly. I never want this to end. I want to lie here in this faraway world, writhing underneath you for the rest of my days.

You move downwards, engulfing me hotly. I buck and moan and plead, but I know what you'll do. I've memorized your way out of fear that this will suddenly end, that it will be torn from me and I'll be without you. You swallow and suck until I'm close, until I'm putty in your hands and begging for completion.

And then you pull off of me, and you're spreading my thighs further apart and wrapping my legs around your waist. Oh please, Albus, take it slow.

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive

You're stretched out beside me, carding your long fingers through my hair. This is the way life is supposed to be. No witless students and exploding cauldrons, no Death Eaters banging at my door, no Dark Lords in need of vanquishing. Just us.

"What's wrong?" You ask me, your voice is quiet, hardly above a whisper.

"I don't want this to end." It's true. I could never lie to you. Not anymore.

"We still have a bit." I glance at the clock. We barely have a bit. Just a very small bit. A tad.

I say nothing in return. I close my eyes and inhale your scent of lemons and possibly coconut shampoo. You're warm beneath me, warm and safe. I could face demons with you by my side. Lord knows I have before.

The pain is unexpected when it hits. I hiss and clutch my forearm tightly, covering the mark as it reddens, blistering and breaking skin.

You press a kiss to my forehead and pry my fingers from around my arm, replacing them with your own. Your hand is so hot and it feels as though it's burning a hole through my skin. You rub it gently, as if the Dark Mark is a thing of beauty, something to be cherished and stroked lovingly.

Fighting fire with fire, I realize. The mark burns from within and your hand burns on the surface. Surely my skin will char. But it doesn't. The pain slowly subsides and you pat my arm, holding me closer to your body. You always win, eventually.

"I must go." I don't want to. I don't want to leave this happy little sanctuary we've created, but everything ends eventually, no matter how hard you wish it to last forever. I sit up, pulling the blankets off, combing my stringy hair back into place to make it somewhat presentable. I don't want Lucius remarking.

"Be safe." You whisper.

I'll try, but Lord knows it'll be hard without you.

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am