Dependence

SSJP Fan Fiction

Harry Potter

ObsessiveDevil23

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I am not making any money from this.

Chapter 25 – The Cave

James stood in that little cave, painfully aware that he could hear his parents and Sirius splashing about outside, just a little way off, frozen in shock. He hadn't heard right, surely? Or he was having another hormone-fuelled wet dream? Severus would never ask him – order him – to do something like that. He was already half-hard just at the thought of it, and as he felt Severus push once more with their clasped hands against him, he could feel his dick swelling against the back of his hand.

His knees went weak when he registered just how close the Slytherin's hand was to his cock, and he let out a puff of air that crystalized in front of him in the cold. Severus finally released his hand, but kept him effectively pinned against the rock behind him, and leant impossibly more forward to that his breath was ghosting across James' ear. The Gryffindor had never before thought of his ear as a sensitive spot, but all of a sudden he could not get enough of the feeling.

"Do I have to repeat myself?"

James quickly shook his head, maybe a little too enthusiastically, because Severus let out a low chuckle at the sight that had James aching with need. He seriously considered, for a moment, telling the boy to fuck off – that there was no way he would degrade himself in such a way for the Slytherins cheap thrills – but then he thought about the Elixir, and how Severus held it above him like a God, teasing monkeys with a banana and watching them dance, and he pushed his hands under his swimwear, and wrapped his hand around his dick.

A shudder ran through his body at the thought of Severus Snape watching him jack off, and with that image in his head, he closed his eyes and gave himself a few tentative tugs, leaning heavily against the rock behind him for support. He heard a low grumble, and then two, long-fingered hands were placed firmly on his too-skinny hips.

Embarrassingly, a little keen of appreciation fell from his lips at the contact, and his breath hitched when those hands travelled downwards and pried his dripping-wet swimwear from his hipbones, so that they fell down his legs and pooled at his ankles in the water; leaving him completely exposed and at the mercy of his Slytherin companion. He pulled at himself a little more erratically, all the while mortified to think he could feel his release already building up inside him.

He heard Severus give a short, appreciative hum, and let out a high-pitched gasp in response that he knew he would deny until the day he died.

"Turn around." Ordered Snape in the same low voice that would get James to do pretty much anything for him, and obediently, the Gryffindor rearranged himself so that he was facing the rock, leaning over a bit so he could put one hand on the rock to steady himself, whilst the other was still working feverishly on his cock. He felt his face heat up at the idea of Severus behind him, watching his behind clench and unclench again in his pleasure, but the boy didn't seem averse to it, if the re-emergence of his hands on James' side were anything to go by.

Those bony hands travelled up and down the Quidditch player's back, over his rounded behind and down the backs of his thighs, sending shockwaves of pleasure everywhere they touched and bringing James ever closer to the release his dick was looking for. He shuddered and gasped and squirmed under the attention, whilst simultaneously attempting to push himself backwards onto those hands for more.

"Spread your legs." Came Severus' rumbling command, and although every reasonable thought in James' mind told him he was giving the man far too much control, he felt himself obediently pushing his legs further apart from each other – giving Severus an obscene view of his body. His hand was working overtime now, squeezing harshly at the base and twisting around the head as he working himself in a frenzy, and he knew he was probably less than a minute away from his release – he leant forward a little more, pushing his forehead against the rough texture of the rock and soaking up its coolness.

Only a few minutes ago he couldn't ever remember being warm – now he felt like he was on fire with need and lust, his whole body sending off waves of heat in his arousal.

Severus' fingers played confidently over his buttocks, and around the tops of his thighs, and James felt one cool digit slip dangerously close to the hole that had been presented so willingly to the boy, sending James well over the edge. He bucked forwards into his own hand, letting out a small grunt, and allowed himself to still as he felt warm, stickiness erupt over his fingers. Severus' hands instantly retracted from him, and he wasn't allowed to bask in his aftershocks for long. As he calmed down he felt his ears burn red from embarrassment, and he quickly collected himself together, bending down to wash his hand off in the sea and bring his shorts back up to give himself some form of cover.

When he had collected some form of confidence, straightened up and turned around, it was to see Severus leaning nonchalantly against the side of the cave, inspecting his nails. He felt bile rising in his throat at the sight, at how much this boy just didn't care. A flicker of white-hot rage curled in his stomach, and he was about to shout, but was once again reminded that Severus Snape was akin to a God to him, and he had no privilege to attack. He crossed his arms across his stomach self-consciously in an attempt to stem the waves of nausea and heat.

"I…" He started, shifting his weight from side to side and looking anywhere but at the other boy. When he could think of nothing to say, that would not come out accusatory and upset, he braved a glance in the Slytherin's direction. Severus sneered at him, crossing the cave in three short strides, and tilting James' head forcefully so that the Gryffindor had no choice but to maintain eye-contact.

"Save me your pretences Potter." He said, voice low, rumbling, the way James liked it – but not angry, despite the disgusted expression on his face. "Show me how angry you are. Show me how unfair you think it, that I took advantage of you."

James swallowed, ready to rise to the challenge, but scared of the consequences. He could feel a dull throbbing in his shorts from his release, and the pinpricks on his skin where Severus' fingers had ignited a spark in him. He lowered his gaze and shook his head.

Severus gripped a little tighter on his chin.

"Shout at me Potter. Get upset. You have every right." He muttered, but James just stood still, keeping his arms firmly crossed over his stomach. Eventually Severus pushed him backwards by his grip on his chin, sending him rocketing towards the floor. James landed with a splash in the water, and wiped a hand over his chin to try and dispel the feeling Severus had concocted there.

"I follow your orders." He said quietly. Severus shook his head, sneering, and turned himself away – looking directly at the large rock James had been leant against, which was now coated with his semen.

"You disgust me." He murmured quietly.

_X_

The ride back to Godric's Hollow was stonily silent. Sirius seemed to be attempting to stay as far away from Severus, and thus James, as possible – which resulted to him pressing himself into the side of the car uncomfortably. Severus, on the other side, had forgone the pretence of comfortable bodily contact, and James was missing the gentle pressure of their legs pressed together that they had enjoyed on the ride up. In the front of the car James could see Euphemia sending him worried glances in the rear-view mirror, and Fleamont staring out the front with a confused look on his face.

When they eventually pulled up outside the little front garden of the cottage James found himself thanking his lucky stars he had been born a wizard and not a muggle, and thus only had to endure the long, boring car journeys on the odd occasion, and not every time he wished to travel. Sirius roughly pushed passed him and into the house, and Fleamont and Euphemia ushered him and Severus into the house, despite the Slytherins half-hearted attempts to protest that he really must go.

They sat at the old wooden table in the kitchen, where Severus had sat that morning having a cup of tea with his parents, and Euphemia almost instantly flicked her wand at the kettle so that it whistled in boiling and poured four cups of tea. Sirius had gone instantly upstairs, and his absence was noticeable. Fleamont sat down and surveyed the two boys in front of him. They had changed back into their day clothes, and the jeans James had felt so confident in that morning now felt uncomfortably tight.

"So," Fleamont began, "You've been having trouble with eating?"

James knew it was a sensitive subject for his parents. His father's sister in law, Dorea, had suffered from an eating disorder; it had broken down the marriage and she had been admitted to St. Mungo's for over a year in recovery. He shrugged his shoulders in a noncommittal way, lowering his eyes to avoid his father's gaze. Euphemia sat down beside her husband.

"You need to be honest with us Jamie."

James flushed at the nickname, and Severus made to stand.

"I should really leave you to discuss this." He excused, and went to turn from their presence, but Euphemia touched his arm lightly.

"Please stay. We would appreciate your support - as an expert." She asked, and reluctantly the Slytherin nodded his head, and sat back down.

They all looked to James, who ran a hand through his hair – the gel had washed out in the water, and it was curling with the salt in it. It felt horrible to the touch. He took a deep breath and began to speak.

"I'm able to eat more now. It's a struggle. It's not… I want to eat. Sometimes."

Severus sent him a brief, concerned look, then placed a hand on his shoulder which effectively shut him up. Fleamont turned his attention to the lanky haired boy.

"Is this usual behaviour for someone who has Flamouriadesis?"

Severus bit his lip.

"I have seen people have a loss of appetite with Cinis before, but I admit not to this extent. But your son does suffer far worse than anyone I have ever seen with the disease."

James crossed his arms over his stomach again, hunching his shoulders. He felt like he was being called weak. Euphemia covered her mouth with her hand.

"Oh Jamie." She said behind it, closing her eyes. James felt shame flood his body.

"And is he getting better?" Fleamont asked Severus, and Severus slowly nodded.

"It is a difficult process. One that will take a lot of time and support." He responded. "Like all symptoms of the disease, he may never truly recover, but always need that extra support."

James felt a curl of heat rise in his stomach at the injustice. He hated being talked about like he was a dog that might have to be put down, and had to physically bite his lip to stop from showing his anger.

Fleamont frowned.

"And will you continue to provide that support?" He asked hesitantly. "He seems to trust you more than I would dare say he's ever trusted anyone." James blushed at his father's observation, but Severus allowed his eyes to rake lazily over the other teenager in the room, and nodded.

"I will." He said. "I will return next week with more Elixir." He added, as if going through his own plan. Euphemia nodded.

"I would ask you stay, help him through the next weeks, but I appreciate you must have your own family to see over the holidays. Christmas is such a lovely time of the year." She confessed. Severus tensed.

He looked around at the kitchen, covered in Christmas lights, bells, holly and fake snow. At the pots and pans lined up on the rack, and the smell of the casserole Euphemia had put in the slow cooker that morning, and the cup of tea on the table in front of him. He frowned.

"What is Christmas like?" He asked, before he could stop himself. All eyes in the room suddenly turned to him, and he lowered his eyes to the cup of tea in front of him and took a long sip.

"You… you've never celebrated Christmas?" Came a small voice from the hallway, and everyone redirected their attention to Sirius, who was stood there. Severus stood at the appearance of the Black heir.

"Forget I asked." He quickly said, snatching for his bag in an attempt to run, but Sirius was blocking his path through. Sirius shook his head, disbelievingly.

"No, I… hell, even my family celebrated Christmas." He admitted quietly. Then a determined expression fell onto his face and he stepped forwards. "Sit down Snape. Even you deserve to have a Christmas."

Severus fell heavily back on to his chair, an incredulous look on his face, staring at Sirius. James felt a small smile form on his lips at the sight. Sirius joined them at the table, and Euphemia rested a comforting hand on the Slytherin's arm.

"Do your family not celebrate the holidays?" She asked gently, and Severus shook his head.

"My father is… best not spoken of." He replied, scratching absently at his cheek. He kept his gaze focused intently on Euphemia's motherly form. She creased her brow at the confession.

"And your mother?" She asked hesitantly. Severus seemed to visibly tense at the question.

"She was… invariably busy. Now she… she is." He trained his eyes on the table, James noticed his hands balling around the hem of his jumper by his side. "My mother is dead."

Euphemia gasped, wrapping a protective arm around the boy. Fleamont sent James a look, as if questioning why their son had not warned them. James shrugged his shoulders in response – he had had no idea. Severus pried away from the motherly woman soon enough, and attempted something that was probably meant to be a smile but came out more like a grimace.

"I do not wish to intrude further-" He began, and attempted once more to stand from his seat, but Euphemia pushed him back down with a firm hand.

"Don't be ridiculous. You will be spending Christmas with us this year my dear. It is the least we can do. If your father has no protests."

Severus hastily assured her he wouldn't.

"Then I would like you to stay with us this holiday. If the boys don't mind I'm sure I can squeeze another bed in that room."

Severus looked a little shell-shocked. James bit his lip at the idea of Severus being there the whole break; after their interaction that afternoon, when the Slytherin had told James how disgusting he was, he hadn't expected the boy to want to stay for Christmas. His parents were extremely charitable, and worked on a more-the-merrier basis, so he wasn't surprised by the invitation – only the response.

A quick glance at Sirius' stony expression showed the other boy was trying very hard not to protest.

"I'm sure James wouldn't mind sharing his bed." He muttered under his breath, making the Quidditch player blush, and send his parents furtive glances to make sure they hadn't heard. Then Sirius gave Severus a long, considerate look and sighed audibly. "I don't mind sleeping on the sofa Euphemia." He said, more loudly, pointedly not looking at either Severus or James as he said it.

_X_

Later that night James was standing in the shower of the ensuite shower-room which was connected to the second bedroom of his parent's cottage.

Euphemia was in the kitchen, pottering over a hot stove, with Sirius entertaining her. James could hear his laugh all the way up the stairs. Fleamont had flued with Severus to his home to help him pack up some stuff for the holidays he would now be spending with the Potters.

The shower was warm and the water pressure constant and heavy, and he'd worked his toes into the rubbery bathmat beneath him so he didn't slip, with one hand on the bathroom tiles, and the other wrapped firmly around his dick. He tugged lazily at himself, breath coming out in little huffs, as he worked up the image in his head of what had happened in the cave at Broadsands Bay. The arousal was curling at the base of his stomach like a snake wrapping around its prey, and James thought the analogy to be quite poignant, given just who had been commanding him to touch himself in the cave. He got hard just thinking about it, how much he had been taken advantage of.

He tugged at himself slightly more erratically, imagining Severus behind him once more, his hands on his back, over the backs of his thighs, on his arse. His long fingers brushing over his –

He gasped, stilling his hand and gripping at the base of his cock to stop the flow, as his butt gave a spasm at the memory of just how close Severus had got to it. He didn't want to come just yet. He didn't want to come thinking about it at all, but the images had come unbidden to his mind the moment he entered the water, and his hand had worked of its own accord to work him into a frenzy thinking about them.

In his memory, Severus told James to spread his legs, and he did it again now, pushing them apart so his ankles hit either side of the shower. He stilled his other hand as it twitched to reach behind him, to re-enact what Severus had done which had sent James over the edge, but he wasn't yet far gone enough to give into that urge. He picked up the pace of his tugging instead, his breaths coming out as pants now, punctuated by keens and moans of pleasure.

"Severus." He whispered, and then again, over and over – imagining the boys hands on his hips, over his cheeks, spreading them apart. "Oh Merlin, Severus!"

And then he was being forcibly turned around to see the cold black eyes of the real Severus Snape; fully clothed, in his shower. Before he could say anything to excuse what he had been doing, or even an indignant cry for the Slytherin to exit his private moment, Severus pulled him forwards by two large hands on his shoulders and crashed their lips together in a bruising kiss. James gasped and his mouth was invaded by his crush's tongue, and James realised his hand had never stopped working on his dick when all at once it was far too much and he had come, spurting sticky white semen for the second time that day, but this time all over his naked stomach, and over Severus' wet shirt.

"Fuck, Severus." James sputtered once he realised what had happened. "I am so sorry…"

The Slytherin surveyed him coolly, before exiting the shower without a word, leaving the boy feeling used and vulnerable.