There Serve Your Lusts, Shadow'd from Heaven's Eye
"How long have we been here, Severus?"
The Potions Master winced at the sound of his name. It fell from the young man's lips with too much ease, with too much melody. Their earlier conversation and the confessions it produced had been disarming, and Harry had been behaving increasingly informally toward him since. It was bittersweet. Severus would have preferred to remain simply bitter, but the little monster had had the nerve to be sensitive and insightful. Resenting Harry would have made this whole ordeal easier. Instead, they'd reached a deeper understanding and exchanged apologies long overdue. Their rapport deepened, and Severus was instilled with a deep sense of melancholy that it would have to end just as it was beginning.
None of this helped Severus' battle with his instincts. The Thirst was doing strange things to his mind. They both refused to sleep, not wanting to waste the minutes that might turn out to be their last. He was exhausted and kept finding himself drifting off into waking fantasies in which Harry was familiar and inviting, flirtatious even; not at all put off by Severus' attributes, physical or otherwise. In these daydreams, Severus would see himself opening his arms to the young man and gathering him tightly against his own need-ravaged body. He heard himself muttering sweet nothings against Harry's skin as if to season it before sinking his fangs there. Severus would wake from these fantasies with a silent gasp, his eyes flying open to find their subject on the other side of the cell still, unmoved and unsullied. And Severus' thirst would rage anew, urging him to close the distance and make their finale a reality. It was driving Severus to madness. He'd had to stand, finally, to banish them; to pace the meager length of their cell to keep himself present. But Harry's bold new intimacy kept confusing him and making him think the visions were chasing him around their tiny prison.
"How long?" Harry persisted, voice devoid of propriety. "I can't tell, but I suspect you know."
"Don't call me by my first name," Severus replied testily. It was inconvenient that he craved the sound of his name in Harry's voice as badly as he craved the young man's blood.
"And can you give me a reason why I shouldn't?" Harry asked impudently.
"Harry, are you trying to shorten your suffering by inducing me to kill you out of irritation?" Severus groused. "Because if so, you are doing exceedingly well."
The little shit actually grinned.
"Do you know?" he asked, his smile fading to a stubborn scowl. "How long?"
Of course, he was really asking a very different question. Not 'How long have we been here?' but 'How long do I have left?' Severus didn't know how to go about explaining to him that his anxiety was unwarranted. Torturous as their predicament was, though, Severus was not yet ready to die. Besides, he felt he should hold off the deed as long as possible so as not to add unnecessarily to Harry's inevitable trauma. The light coming through the gap beneath the door from the distant torchlight of the torture chamber seemed enough for Harry to track Severus' movements in a vague way, but at least Harry would not be able to see what Severus would do. Still, he did not cherish the thought of leaving the young man alone here with only a corpse for company. And if they took too long in retrieving him...
"Three days, at least," Severus finally murmured, scrubbing his hands over his face. "You were unconscious for quite a while."
"So, I'm looking like a chicken leg with glasses right about now, I suppose," Harry mumbled with a chuckle. Severus stopped pacing and stared at him in bewilderment. "You know, Looney Tunes?" he went on. "Two blokes get stuck on a deserted island, and then they get so hungry they begin imagining each other as roasted chickens or hams or something." Harry giggled.
"Well, that certainly didn't take long," Severus muttered under his breath, pacing again.
"What didn't?" Harry asked indifferently as he lay his head back against the wall.
"You. Going completely mad. I thought you'd last at least another day or so."
"I'm not mad," Harry assured him. "Just hungry and bored."
"Will you please stop talking about food?" Severus grumbled.
"Fine," Harry said brightly. "What would you rather to talk about?"
"I wouldn't."
Harry watched Severus' progress back and forth across the cell with a lazy, lopsided smile. "You're annoyed," he intuited.
"Your powers of perception never cease to amaze," Severus answered snidely.
"It's because I'm a virgin."
"Do you have anything else obvious to add!?" Severus snarled. For the love of Hermes, why did he have to say it out loud? The fact was hard enough to ignore as it was. The air was saturated to capacity with the heady perfume of his blood. Each breath of it Severus drew into his lungs further eroded his self-control, pushing him closer and closer to his own end.
"Well, I see one possible solution," Harry said musingly. Severus suddenly stopped pacing and turned to the young man who waggled his eyebrows as if in clarification.
It wasn't as if it hadn't occurred to Severus. And not just as idle erotic fantasy, but as a serious consideration. Was the protection surrounding Harry worth more than his own life? What if he destroyed the boy's armor and still had to tear himself open in the end? The scars Harry would bear from the act would be in vain, as would all Severus' efforts to end the Dark Lord, should Harry fall due to Severus' selfish indiscretion.
But then, what if the others didn't come in time? What if they were both fated to die? Could Severus really be faulted for possessing the desire to live? Even if just one more day?
For fuck's sake. What in hell was he thinking? Harry didn't even properly understand what he was suggesting. Lupin had been right that the boy was naive of the implications. He would regret the experience and hate Severus forever after, even if forever turned out to be just a couple of more dark, lonely days. Severus could stand to die a few hours earlier. He could certainly accept that he would do so without getting laid one last time.
"No," Severus said finally. "It would buy us a day, maybe. Two at most."
"Those sound like better odds than I've got now," Harry pointed out. "Seems to me, before the day is out, you'll have to either fuck me or kill me," he said casually, as if they weren't discussing intercourse and murder.
Gods! Both options were as tempting as they were repulsive. Severus' appetites were eating him alive. He huffed and abruptly took a seat opposite of Harry, laying his head in his hands. Perhaps he should do the deed now and put himself out of his misery.
"Well, I know which I'd prefer," Harry offered.
Severus lifted a weary look to his tormenter. "I'd prefer to do neither," he grumbled insincerely. The lie was bitter on his tongue, but better spoken than the truth. "Has it ever occurred to you I might not be particularly interested?" he asked waspishly, annoyed beyond tolerance by Harry's reckless and oblivious banter. "Or are you so certain of your appeal you think it will override my natural inclinations?" The young man scowled but refrained from answering back. "Besides, the Headmaster will have my heart on a stake as it is," Severus went on, miserably. If he ever saw the man again, that is.
Harry cocked his head thoughtfully."Will the protective magic prevent you from ripping my throat out when you can't resist the temptation any longer?"
Perhaps, Severus thought. And it might well induce me to tear out my own within the hour.
"It hasn't come to that yet," Severus said now, though tensely. He had to get a hold on himself. Harry's blase attitude might well be deceptive. He couldn't let the young man fall into despair so soon. Especially knowing how susceptible Harry was to it. Especially knowing he wouldn't be around afterward to pull the young man out of it again. "And it may never. They may still find us before…"
Before what? Who was he kidding? They were deep in the bowels of a massive, likely booby trapped, multi-tiered subterranean maze. No one was coming. He couldn't even force the lie from his lips. "Besides, I'm not about to let you throw away your bloody virginity on your greasy old Potions Master!" he sputtered instead.
"Well, whether it's bloody or not would be entirely up to you, Severus," Harry purred, inducing a shiver that traveled the vampire's entire body.
Bloody Fucking Hell.
"Don't. Call me. By my first name."
Severus was on the brink. But Harry couldn't actually want to be with him. He just didn't fancy being eaten. If he knew it wasn't a concern, he might stop plaguing Severus. But then he might also try to talk the man out of things, and Severus' willpower might not weather the test, to both their ruin.
"I think it's going to be a little awkward shouting out 'professor' in the throes of passion," Harry sighed with a roll of his eyes.
"THERE WILL BE NO RUDDY THROES, HARRY!"
Severus' shout echoed throughout the cell, sobering Harry considerably. He stared at Severus, and the hurt in his expression made Severus feel like the worst kind of villain. How he hated seeing pain in the young man, regardless of the circumstances. "You'd really rather kill me?" he asked, his voice small and wounded. "Do you find me that repulsive?" Severus swallowed uncomfortably. If Harry only knew. The Potions Master began to wring his hands to stop them ripping out his hair in frustration.
Harry scowled at him across the darkness. "And what if," he ventured hesitantly, "what if my suggesting this doesn't have all that much to do with saving my life?"
Severus stopped his wringing and stared at the young man, certain he'd misheard. Harry's expression was open and vulnerable. Severus scowled at him suspiciously, but before he could work out the depth of his sincerity, Harry began groping his way through the dark toward him on his hands and knees.
"What are you doing?" Severus asked in panic. "Stay where you are."
Harry ignored the command, and Severus was powerless to stop him. He didn't trust himself to touch him, even to push him away. What was this? Did he have a deathwish? Or had hunger and darkness robbed him of all sense? Regardless, Severus had to struggle to remain immobile as Harry knelt before him and brought his hands to Severus' face.
"What exactly are you doing?" Severus asked. It was meant to be withering but he could hardly breathe. Harry was so near, and his touch was intoxicating.
"I'm seeing you," Harry replied plainly, tracing his fingertips over Severus' countenance. The man's astonishment momentarily subdued his bloodlust.
How could a boy so dangerously predictable surprise Severus so consistently?
Despite his thirst, Severus was fascinated, as lost in the exercise as Harry was. This close, Harry's luminance was almost blinding, and the look on the young man's face was exquisite: in turns curious and considerate and delighted.
Delighted. Over the tactile observation of Severus' features. It defied all logic, and yet there was the young man's small smile as he traced the arch of Severus' eyebrow. Harry stroked his index finger down the contour of Severus' nose, just as the man himself had done only hours before, and he actually sighed contentedly.
What manner of creature was this who found satisfaction in something Severus had been taught was universally considered loathsome?
Harry was thorough, and despite his amazement, Severus found the act soothing. But when Harry caressed his way to Severus' mouth, running his finger across the man's thin lips and fondling the swell of his fangs beneath, Severus' thirst stirred, and the urge to snap at the questing digit was too great. Severus quickly snatched Harry's fingers in his own and drew them a short ways from his skin, holding him still. Though, he did not expel Harry bodily from him. His proximity was too agreeable, and for the moment, Severus was pacified enough to not be a danger.
"You know, you don't have a bad face," Harry said softly. They were both short of breath. Severus gave him a fondly incredulous look which the young man could not see.
"I suppose it's complemented by the lighting here," Severus replied in a wry whisper.
"Oh, come on," Harry gently argued, reclaiming his hand and placing it on the wall beside Severus' head to help with his precarious balance. He wasn't exactly in Severus' lap, but he was dangerously close to it. The Potions Master couldn't decide which part of that bothered him. "You're...handsome. In your own way."
Severus laughed softly. "Harry, I am not now, nor have I ever been, considered handsome...even by the most desperate and depraved of undesirables."
Harry's expression soured, and to Severus' dismay, he sat back on his feet. "You're right," he said.
Severus was more hurt by the comment than he might have expected. The spell now broken, Severus' discontent welcomed him back to planet Earth. "Well," he answered, bemused, "don't bother with polite hesitation."
"You aren't handsome," Harry repeated. "But you are attractive...in an intense, exclusively 'Snape' sort of way," he said thoughtfully.
Severus was again caught off guard. Loraina had often told him something similar, but he'd always dismissed it. He shook his head wonderingly at the boy, half convinced that this was not actually happening, that he had lapsed back into deceptive daydreams. He should be moving, he thought. He needed to clear his head. But even after rising carefully to his feet and moving away from the young man, he still buzzed from the compliment.
"You, Harry, are simply oversexed," he argued. Surely the young man was merely suffering from some combination of hormones and hunger. "It has caused you to see attraction where it does not exist."
He felt Harry rise behind him. In fact, he was intensely aware that Harry drifted closer, and the distance between them chaffed the more it shrank. "I'm not so sure about that," Harry said, his voice dusky. This was not the playful purr of before. This was not hollow flirtation. Harry's voice was colored by honest arousal, and Severus' flowered in response. He had to get away from the boy, but in their confines escape equated to approximately three agitated steps. Severus would have to diffuse the situation somehow.
"I've seen your idea of seduction already," he said disdainfully, turning back to face Harry. "It's juvenile."
"But effective?"
When he got no response, Harry sighed in defeat and leaned dejectedly against the wall. "You really can't consider that seduction, you know," Harry dismissed, crossing his arms. Gratefully, the smoke had left his voice. "I only kissed you because...well, because I was angry with you, strange as that sounds."
Oh, for the love of hell. Just when they'd seemed to have skirted danger, he simply had to remind Severus of that blasted kiss. Such a lovely moment, ruined for nothing. And now they were back where they started. "Not as strange as you'd think," Severus muttered, starting his pacing again. "But that was not what I was referring to," he added without thinking, distracted by the remembrance of warring lips and the taste of perfect blood.
"Well, I didn't have to seduce Eric," Harry said with a reminiscent smile that inspired sudden violence in Severus.
Eric.
Severus sneered in disgust. Harry must have been referring to that delinquent from the alcove. Severus seethed at the mention of his name, especially with the memory of Harry's kiss so fresh on his mind. It wasn't hard to place the boy, suddenly. Eric Conners, seventh year Hufflepuff. Severus always had pegged him as a poof. He was in Severus' N.E.W.T. class. Well, he was at the moment. If Severus managed to make it out of this tomb alive, he might not be for much longer. "It was the other way around, really," Harry went on thoughtfully as Severus continued his measure of the cell, thinking criminal thoughts about the golden-haired aspiring Healer.
"Wait," Harry said slowly as something occurred to him. "Wait...you don't mean Eric."
"Stop saying his bloody name," Severus spat.
Harry scowled. "You mean..."
Gods damn it! Severus hadn't intended to confess that transgression. Why was Harry only dense when it was inconvenient? "The Mutt?" Severus snapped before Harry could voice the conclusion himself. "Yes, Harry. I meant Lupin."
"Wait. You've seen it?" Harry straightened and dropped his arms. "Does that mean that you...?"
"Used Legilimency?" Severus sighed witheringly. "No, Harry. I do not have enough interest in yours or Lupin's sexual practices to waste my talent and energy in thieving a peek at them," he said. But Harry was not placated.
"So how? Tell me," he demanded. Severus recommenced wringing his hands as he paced. Harry had a right to the truth. That didn't mean Severus enjoyed admitting to it.
"I had deposited a memory in the Pensieve for the Headmaster to review," Severus explained uncomfortably. "But when I went to retrieve it I...I accidentally claimed the wrong one."
Harry stared at Severus as if trying and failing to stave off the implications of what he'd been told. "What? Dumbledore's seen it?" he sputtered. "Why?"
"I would imagine to exonerate Lupin of any wrongdoing."
"Wrongdoing?" Harry objected indignantly. "But, it's not like I'm technically underage. I mean legally-"
"Oh, you are so naïve, Harry," Severus huffed. "Besides, I've explained to you the importance of your purity. Albus has guarded it closely, and if he'd suspected Lupin of imperiling it, he would have skinned the wolf alive."
That shut Harry up. But not for good. After a long, extremely uncomfortable silence, during which Severus continued to pace and turn, Harry couldn't help himself any longer. "So what does that mean? You took his memory. You saw it?"
"I didn't see it, Harry," Severus told him. "I lived it." Harry looked lost, and Severus blasted out a sigh. "When one uses the Pensieve it is like watching the memory as an outsider. You know this."
"But when you put someone else's memory in your own head..." Harry prompted impatiently.
"Yes, Harry!" Severus hissed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "You experience it as if the memory were your own! As if everything that was done or said was through you; your own body, your own thoughts, your own sensations. You get it now. Can we please stop discussing it!"
But it was too late. Suddenly, every detail of the stolen memory erupted in his mind's eye. Merlin's Beard! As if Severus didn't have enough to contend with with his thirst and his jealousy and his dread of death, now he had to battle an all too sharp arousal.
"So when you take it back out, do you stop?" Harry asked as if trying to wrap his head around the matter. "Do you stop feeling those things?"
Severus huffed irritably. "In a way, Harry. I'd really rather not-"
"What do you mean, in a way?"
"I mean that it abates!" Severus snapped. "It's disorienting. The memory becomes one of your own, but without the context." He was exhausted by Harry's questioning and sighed, slumping against the wall.
Why couldn't he just let the matter rest? Severus was dangerously overwhelmed. So many things warred within him. Severus wanted simultaneously to kiss the scowling young man and to backhand him. He wanted to apologize and to condemn. He wanted to both ravage and protect him. He wanted to thank him for his foolish but seemingly sincere interest and also to punish him for his infidelity. He wanted to sully him and drain him and hold him fast against danger, and all of it -the satisfaction of all his conflicting desires- stood glaring at him an arm's length away. His whole body ached to reach out and claim it; and nowhere so sharply as in his pants, especially now recalling the revelation of Harry's bare skin beneath Lupin's hand, and remembering the feel of Harry's lips smeared forcefully against Severus' own with the man's favorite brand of aggression.
"So, earlier in the dungeon, you weren't strictly angry with me," Harry said, working it out aloud. "You were-"
"Oh, I was most definitely angry," Severus spat, cutting him off. He knew where Harry was going, and he willed him to stop. If he didn't, Severus wouldn't be able to either.
"But not just," Harry prodded, unable to keep the smile from his face. Then he gasped with some sudden revelation. "And when you pulled me from the alcove!"
That was the final straw. The memory of Eric Conners' tacky yellow mane swaying back and forth before Harry's open trouser front came unbidden, and with the same possessive rage Severus had felt then, he sprang at the young man. Suddenly Harry was in Severus' grasp and the man simply could not persuade his body to release him. That unruly black hair made for such a convenient grip, allowing him to wrench the boy's head back so Severus could draw Harry's neck to his face where he could drink in his scent as Severus' other arm pressed him like a vise against the Potions Master's long, thin, rigid body. Harry was forced to cling to him, as his feet no longer quite reached the floor, and the sensation was addictive. Harry gasped but did not struggle. Which was a pity, because if he had it might have woken Severus to the horror of what he was doing.
"What do you want me to say, Harry?" Severus asked helplessly as his whole body trembled with the effort of denying the teeth positioned over Harry's throat permission to sink into it. "That my response wasn't just frustration at your weakening of the protections? That I was jealous? Of course I was jealous," he told him in a fierce, low rush. Gods, it felt glorious to confess it finally. "I had had in my head, just moments before finding you, the memory of a randy Werewolf who thinks the sun and moon rise and set out of your arse. I had just known, not only the desire for it, but the actual feel of your skin beneath my hand, of your tongue in my mouth. And then suddenly there you were with someone else," he said, the glow of his catharsis darkening. "With some boy," he spat angrily against Harry's neck. "The little bastard was lucky I was so pissed at you or else he would not have escaped unscathed. This," Severus hissed, tightening his grip in Harry's hair and roughly tugging his body even tighter to his own. "This is mine," Severus growled, "and how dare some pubescent aspiring Casanova dare to lay hands on it."
But Harry was not that boy, and Severus could not allow his rage at Conners' trespass to be directed at the young man trapped in his arms. He found could not let him go yet, though. Their entire ordeal and Severus' long battle with his thirst, along with every thought and yen and revelation Severus had experienced in the last few weeks, had finally come to a head, and Severus' willpower was all but spent. He didn't mean to hurt Harry, though, and he realized he must be. Calming himself by degrees, Severus loosened his grip, cradling Harry though giving him no room for escape. His lips, however, were unable to leave Harry's throat.
"People misunderstand a vampire's craving for virgin blood, Harry," Severus explained in a whisper against his skin, causing Harry to loose a series of trembling gasps that made Severus' mouth water and his head swim with lust. "It's less a hunger and more of an arousal. It's almost...sexual," he breathed, kissing Harry's neck caressingly. He wasn't able to help himself. And what did it matter now? Harry shuddered in Severus' arms, holding him more tightly. "Even without that goddamned memory, I can fucking smell you, Harry," he moaned. "And you're perfect. Your blood: It's the right age, new but experienced. Pure, but not too pure. Darkness and light in perfect proportion, just enough to give it complexity," he intoned, running the flat of his tongue over the fluttering pulse in Harry's neck. The young man whimpered. It could easily have been mistaken for fear if it hadn't been for the unambiguous twitching of Harry's erection, which Severus held pinned between them. Severus' answered, pressed firmly against Harry's thigh, and the man no longer cared.
What did it matter if he was a lecherous old monster? Harry was obviously willing. Besides, Severus was damned so many times over he'd long since lost count. And so what if Harry had a cock instead of tits? Severus' clearly didn't mind. Being blessedly godless, it wasn't as if he had any theological objections to the union of two men. He didn't have qualms, only old scars, and his unadulterated need was making those fade to near invisibility.
"So, do I want to fuck you, Harry?" he asked softly, finally moving away from Harry's veins and trailing soft, lazy kisses down Harry's jawline. "Of course I do. Do I want to tear out your throat and drain you? More than anything," he moaned. "But after all the trouble I've been put through to keep you alive, practically against your will...I suppose we can easily divine which I'll actually do." His ghostly kisses had reached the corner of Harry's mouth, where he paused.
They were going to die. There was no sense in deceiving themselves. Severus let that knowledge settle over him like a shroud. Absolutely nothing mattered at this point. What became of the world was immaterial. There was nothing more they two could do to save it. They were absolved. At least, he reasoned, they could save each other. What better way to die than in the arms of a lover?
"Mind the teeth," Severus warned quietly, his eyes falling closed with acceptance, and then he smothered Harry's mouth with his own. Severus' iron grip relaxed and, with no hesitation, Harry twisted in the man's arms, snaking his around Severus' neck and kissing him as if his life depended on it.
It was nothing short of miraculous. The chill air around them ignited. Severus was on fire. As yielding as the young man had been in his fantasies, Severus had never imagined he might be so enthusiastic. Compared to their last, the kiss was less angry and more voracious. Severus' hands were no less hungry. After so many hours of being denied the feast, they seemed to try to consume it all at once. But there was too much of Harry, and no matter how he squeezed and pawed at him, Severus couldn't get enough. He felt the fabric of the young man's shirt strain and finally rip, feeling certain be must be bruising the boy but unable to control himself. He peeled Harry's shirt from him completely. It was hindering his exploration anyway.
Severus swept one palm firmly up Harry's spine to clutch at the nape of the boy's neck, while the other sought the small of his back. Though their kiss was never sundered, Harry wasn't idle either. He pawed at Severus' robes, pushing them aside to attack the endless buttons down the man's front. After fumbling with them for an interminable moment, Harry whimpered his frustration into Severus' mouth; and the man reluctantly relinquished Harry's bare flesh to take over the task himself, going about it with practiced efficiency that was hindered somewhat by Harry's attempt to strip Severus before he was finished.
As the last of the buttons came free, Harry heaved the heavy layers of fabric from Severus' shoulders. And then they met, flesh to flesh, sweating despite the chill in the air, and it was delicious. Harry wasted no time in moving on to Severus' trousers.
"Harry," he mumbled against the young man's lips, as Harry refused to surrender Severus'. Harry ignored him. He seemed intent on stripping the man as quickly as possible. But this was not something to be rushed. No matter how starved and aching he was, Severus intended to go about this the right way. He refused to become Harry's bitterest regret. Severus brought his hands to Harry's shoulders and forcibly separated them.
"What?" Harry demanded impatiently. His hands rose blindly to Severus' chest before the man could respond, locating a nipple so the young man could bend and attach himself to it. Severus' hand tangled itself tightly in Harry's hair and he moaned. Gods, it was fantastic. The young man was clearly not well practiced, but he was fervent enough to compensate, and Severus had always prefered this activity to be a bit unpolished besides.
"I believe there is a process to this," Severus panted, "but I've never personally-" Severus' vision erupted in stars and his knees threatened to fail him. "Oh my. Do that again," Severus commanded him.
Harry obeyed, catching Severus' nipple in his teeth once more. For the moment, the vampire completely lost track of what he'd been trying to say. But his concentration was sharpened when Harry -never pausing his attentions- located one of Severus' still wandering hands and clasped it by the wrist. Harry wrapped the man's fingers around something small and slender and hard, and Severus brought it to his face, struggling to focus on it.
A vial of headache potion? Why was he holding a vial of headache potion? Delayed, but then all at once, the significance struck him. He reviewed its manufacture mentally and realized eel's eye lent the concoction a slimy, viscous consistency, and trace amounts of dittany provided mild but instant localized anesthetic and healing properties. Perhaps the boy understood the implications of this act better than Severus had thought.
Then Severus reflected on how Harry might have known of the potion's usefulness in this situation, and why he might conveniently happen to possess some. The hand in Harry's hair used it to peel the boy from Severus' chest and draw him back to the man's lips.
"Clothes," he snarled angrily into the hollow of Harry's collarbone. "Off. Now."
Severus stepped away from him completely as Harry scrambled to comply, stripping his own remaining clothing with vampiric speed. Otherwise unoccupied, Severus watched the fantastic bunch of the Harry's sleek muscles under his taut skin as he struggled out of his clothing. He was trying to shed his clothes too quickly and the haste hindered the process, to Severus' benefit. As soon as Harry's last foot cleared his stubborn trouser leg, Severus caught him in his arms again from behind. He ran his hands over Harry's torso covetously as Harry sighed under his touch.
How dare he have planned to give so much to some random boy so soon. He was impetuous. Impulsive. Severus would have to teach the young man a lesson in patience.
He ran his palm unhurriedly down the flat plane of Harry's stomach, hovering teasingly over Harry's twitching cock, and let him squirm. "I've never been with a man before," Severus confessed in a sultry purr in Harry's ear. "But I must say, you're rather stunning."
Harry let his head fall back onto Severus' shoulder with a ragged, grateful sigh as the man finally, slowly, took Harry in hand. Severus had no experience whatsoever with this art. But Harry seemed just as pleased the man's efforts as Severus had been with Harry's unseasoned treatment before. They were both on unfamiliar ground. Unfamiliar did not equate to unnatural, however. In fact, the exercise was almost instinctive and, to his surprise, Severus found it almost as enjoyable as Harry seemed to. The way the young man begged with the motion of his hips was no different than a woman might. And the satisfaction of eliciting a partner's pleasure transcended gender.
"Pull my hair again," Harry panted, to Severus' delight. He grunted approvingly, snatching up a handful of black strands and pulling Harry's head roughly back to smother him with another kiss. Loraina had been fond of this kind of aggression as well, but Severus had often worried she was too delicate to withstand the severity she so vehemently requested. Somehow, that worry did not extend to the solid, strapping young man currently in his arms, and Severus thrilled at the possibilities.
"On your knees," he commanded Harry coolly, as he had Loraina on many occasions. The young man didn't hesitate for a moment, dropping to the stone floor of their cell and bending forward to rest on his elbows. His obedience seemed almost out of character, which is what made it all the more gratifying. The sight of the very male genitalia dangling from between his spread legs was only slightly jarring and easily accepted when the arse the young man lifted in unquestionable offering was so bloody fucking perfect. Severus moaned approvingly and reached to caress it.
Ah, youth. The texture and resilience of Harry's skin was delicious enough to be near enslaving. For a while, Severus found he could do nothing but appreciate its virtue.
"You should know," Harry said tremulously as Severus continued to knead, "if you don't already...Eric and I never made it this far."
The hand on Harry's arse clenched involuntarily and he gasped. "Never speak that name in my presence again," Severus said in a low hiss. Harry nodded quickly and Severus forced his hand to relax.
"I'll keep that in mind," he said, much more mildly, caressing once again. Severus turned his attention to the vial he held, smirking as he pulled the stopper. It had no doubt been earmarked for Conners. That added yet another layer of satisfaction as Severus slathered it on his own cock, leaving only enough to coat the fingers of his right hand.
He had known, however, that he would not make it through this without eventually confronting his demons. And the time for it seemed to be now, as he worked to ensure the same were not born in Harry. The substance on his finger was cool as he shyly brushed it across Harry's pucker. Severus swallowed his discomfort, denied his memories space in his thoughts. This was not the same situation. This would not hurt the young man. Severus was not doing this out of malice. It would be fine. It would be pleasurable. Severus couldn't quite understand how, but Harry already pressed back against his touch as if asking for more. Severus responded by massaging firm circles around Harry's opening.
"O-oh gods, " Harry shuddered, his head dangling between his shoulders. He hadn't been exceptionally vocal so far, and it was wonderfully erotic. Severus' misgivings were further eroded by every small moan that escaped the young man.
Matters were becoming urgent. He rested a hand on Harry's hip and leaned over him to speak softly, "Are you ready?"
But Harry made no response, and all Severus' insecurities came crashing back down around him. What if Harry hadn't been voicing pleasure, but discomfort? He abruptly stilled his hand, horrified.
"No. Don't stop!" Harry pleaded, allaying Severus' worry. "I'm fine. I'm...I'm ready."
Severus needed a moment to refocus himself. Then slowly, he curled his finger, pressing more firmly until Harry began to stretch to admit it. Harry stiffened, though, and Severus could go no further without force. "You must relax, Harry," Severus whispered, his voice drawn with desire. The young man struggled with the command for only a moment. Severus heard him draw a long breath and release it slowly, felt him relax with the next exhale.
"That's better," Severus encouraged, stroking Harry's back. Severus bit his lip as one of his knuckles breached the taut ring of muscle, then the other, and soon Severus' entire finger was enveloped. Holy gods. It was so tight. Severus had never felt anything like it. It was silken and blazingly hot. Severus could imagine how it would feel clutching his cock and his hand shook with anticipation. "All right?" Severus asked him huskily. Harry nodded, and the finger withdrew, returned, working itself carefully in and out. Each controlled plunge met less resistance than the last. Harry pressed back into Severus' hand and worked his hips, wanting more. Severus obliged, adding a second finger, and Harry moaned as it slid home, stretching him further.
"I believe there's meant to be…" Severus said, speaking mostly to himself as he turned his hand, twisting his fingers inside Harry and causing him to mutter encouragement. Severus curled his fingers experimentally, and before long they found the textured patch he'd been searching for.
Harry's strangled cry rang throughout their cell and Severus felt a rush of pride. His erection, which had flagged while concentrating on the delicacy of his earlier efforts, blazed back into life. There was nothing more gratifying than hearing a lover cry out in response to one's work. A stream of incoherent and suspectedly involuntary noises spilled from Harry's mouth as Severus brushed the magic spot on every second or third thrust. The sounds threatened to inundate the man completely with lust.
"Snape," Harry whined.
"No," Severus snarled, never slowing his assault on the boy. "Call me Severus."
"Severus!" Harry gasped. The man very nearly came then and there. He hadn't been sexually active in a while and felt himself more apt to prematurity than usual. He'd be damned if he wasted this opportunity, though. With effort, he wrestled his arousal back into submission. "I want.…" Harry went on, but he paused, as if too embarrassed to voice his request. It was so endearingly innocent. Severus smirked, even as he continued to work him, resolved to wring the words from Harry eventually. "Can we? Please."
Fuck.
Begging was Severus' weakness. He could not deny such an ardent request. He carefully withdrew his fingers and checked again that he was still properly lubricated. He was shaking with anticipation. The moment of truth had arrived. For both their sakes, Severus refused to rush it. He admired the result of his efforts so far. What was once a tight bud of blushing flesh that had seemed almost impenetrable was now an opening, still small but elastic and quivering. He reached out a single fingertip to admire it before positioning himself closer and resting his aching cock there instead.
Severus summoned a breath what was suddenly painful elusive. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice strained. He was more than ready himself. Harry took a moment to prepare himself, and Severus awaited his word anxiously.
The young man shook his head.
"No," he said. Severus could not quite catch the sob of disappointment that leapt from his throat. He could have wept.
Harry rose and turned to face him. "Not this way," he said. "Sit down." Harry pressed on Severus' shoulders, urging him to the floor. The man was pliable in his heartbreak. But then Harry straddled him. "I want to be able to kiss you," Harry explained. "I like kissing you." He blushed as he said it. Severus growled his approval at this new plan as he reached for Harry's neck, bringing the boy to his lips.
Oh yes. This was much, much better: Harry's tongue in Severus' mouth, his cock brushing the man's bare stomach. It seemed a strange thing to enjoy, but enjoy it Severus did. He had a fleeting and confusing urge to bend and take Harry in his mouth. Such a thing had never occurred to him before, but he veritably craved it the more he considered it. Perhaps it could be done later. Other things currently held urgent priority.
As they kissed, Harry reached behind him, taking Severus' slick length in hand. He'd not yet touched it and the sensation was new and fantastic. He did not pay it undue attention, though. Instead, he guided back to his opening. Harry's lips stilled but did not leave Severus' as he pressed back.
"Careful," Severus said in a tense whisper. He didn't want Harry to be careful. He wanted them to come together with violent abandon, but he knew it could not happen. "You mustn't tear," he warned. "If I smell blood…"
Harry seemed to understand. He paused but did not stop, easing himself down over Severus' cock slowly. As stretched as he was, it still seemed impossibly tight. And for perhaps the first time in his life, Severus was glad he was not currently in control. Harry kept his breathing steady, relaxing his muscles gradually as he sank slowly lower. Severus clutched at Harry's thighs, not breathing at all. The urge to thrust his hips, and the effort required to quiet it, left no concentration to spare for less important things such as respiration. Their lips drifted apart as Harry's head fell back as he sank the last inch, seating himself firmly in Severus' lap.
It was the epitome of perfection. Severus had never felt more whole in his life. He was no longer restive. He felt he could have sat with Harry like that for the rest of their lives. There were no words in any of the tongues of man sufficient to express what he was feeling. And it was pity Harry could not see the look of open worship he cast up at the young man.
But then Harry tipped his head back down to face him, and his expression was just as beatific. He was gorgeous. The innocence had left his expression to be replaced with thoughtful knowledge. Though the young man might not realize it, they gazed at one another with the same wonder and gratitude and affection. Never in his life had Severus been more moved.
Of course, it could not last. Gradually, the seductive perfume that had radiated from the young man as long as Severus had known him diminished. It hung heavy in the air still, but it was no longer being refreshed. Harry's blood still murmured to him, but it was not the siren song of before. Harry had passed the threshold. He was no longer a virgin. Whether or not they continued, the worst of the danger was gone. Severus very nearly did weep.
"It is done, Harry," Severus told him in a grieved whisper. "We could stop...if that is what you wanted." Speaking the words aloud gutted him. But Harry had a right to know the truth. Whatever had gone through the young man's mind before that had lead them to this moment, the reality of the act was clearer to him now. Now that he was no longer in such danger, if he decided to did not want to follow through, he deserved the opportunity to say so.
"Do you?" Harry asked helplessly. "Do you want to stop?" There was pain in his voice. Disappointment. This really hadn't just been an attempt to lengthen his life. Harry wanted this. For some incomprehensible reason, he wanted it with Severus. And the man was so grateful he ached.
All question of willingness resolved, Severus took matters into own hands, securing the young man in place with one arm and shielding the back of Harry's head with the other as he laid him down on the stone floor, keeping himself buried deep inside of him the whole while. "I really don't know why I asked. I'm not sure I could stop now if you wanted me to, Harry," he admitted, pulling back his hips. Harry gasped as Severus carefully returned. It was divine. He repeated the action and felt Harry unconsciously rake his nails across Severus' flesh. It would be no good if the young man brought blood. Not that Severus disliked the concept, but the scent of even his own blood could still be perilous. Severus ran his hands down Harry's arms and captured both his wrists in his hands. Harry was yielding, his breath seeming to hitch as Severus drew them up to either side of Harry's head. The erection straining against Severus' stomach twitched as the man pressed Harry's wrists firmly to the floor to restrain him.
Gods. Harry was perfect.
Severus worked out the proper leverage for this new position before slowly thrusting again, and Harry's eyes rolled back in his head. The feeling of Harry's body gripping him as he sank into him was a revelation. Severus carefully thrust once more and Harry moaned, from the center of his being, like breathing out his soul. And Severus was no longer simply a man. He become something possessed, an avatar of lust.
"Tell me you want it, Harry," Severus gently commanded in his ear, thrusting again. Harry gasped. Writhed. Struggled to draw breath.
"Yes! Please, Severus," he whined, wrapping his legs around the man's hips. The sound of his name on Harry's lips, spilled with such entreaty, was sweeter than blood.
"Tell me." Thrust. "Tell me what you want, Harry," he begged, hands still pinning Harry's wrists, his lips falling to the boy's throat. Harry's skin was on fire.
"I-I want you…"
"Yes?" Severus prompted, thrusting again; slightly harder, slightly deeper.
"I want you to fuck me," Harry panted directly into Severus' ear, threatening the integrity of the man's limbs. "Please, Severus," he keened softly. "Please fuck me."
Severus hadn't expected those words. He expected Harry to ask him to 'make love to' him, or 'have sex with' him. But Harry had requested very specifically for Severus to fuck him, and the man couldn't hold back any longer. He pulled back further than he had yet and slammed back into the young man. Harry was overwrought, undone. He tugged at Severus' grip in an effort to reach for him, but Severus would not relinquish his wrists as he drove into him again, harder this time. Deeper still.
"Is that what you wanted, Harry?" But Harry couldn't answer for moaning, because Severus was fucking him faster now. All Harry could seem to do was mewl and gasp, driving Severus to the very brink. The man wouldn't hold out much longer. Severus' teeth found their way to Harry's shoulder, wanting so badly to puncture it. Severus groaned in resistance. "Come for me, Harry," he pleaded, drilling the boy properly now. Gods. The young man clearly enjoyed this. Why wouldn't he come?
"Touch me!" Harry finally managed to gasp. Severus only just staved off climax. He crossed Harry's wrists over his head to grip them with a single hand so he could drop his other to Harry's weeping prick.
It didn't take long then. Severus managed two, maybe three strokes before Harry was crying out, spilling over Severus' fingers. The man moaned as the sticky warm stuff coated his hand. He trembled, thrust once more and then buried himself deep within Harry, spilling his own seed there.
Severus didn't think he'd ever had an orgasm more shattering. He rolled off of Harry to lay on his back, spent, one arm cast carelessly over the boy's stomach, just to still touch him as Harry continued to shiver. Neither of them could seem to catch their breath.
"Are you alright?" Severus fretted when he could manage. As his lust settled and faded, he realized, belatedly, that he might have handled the young man more roughly than intended. "Did I hurt you?"
Harry simply laughed, breathless, as he rolled closer in order to drape himself over the man. "No," he panted, smiling. "Not in a bad way."
Severus brought his arm around Harry, pressing the young man to him. The satisfaction was evident in Harry's expression, and though Severus had worked hard to earn it, he still found it almost miraculous. "No," he agreed, stroking Harry's arm, amazed that he was now allowed to do so. "Not in a bad way at all."