I've not much to say and I know you're eager to read the new chapter so I'll be quick. I want to thank you all the immense patience you show to my irregular uploads, and the tender love with which you shower me in the comment section after every chapter. It means the world, it is the best gift I can hope for, honestly. I can only hope, the new chapter is enough to repay it. Anyway...

Happy Holidays My Lovelies!

XXI: The Call of the Void

Harry walked out to the balcony after Snape. It felt as if weeks had passed by since he was out there flying around with Ron, yet it was still the same night, the same sky, the same stars. Only they were different, at least that was how it felt.

"Are you angry with me?" Harry asked quietly.

Does wanting me make you angry?

The magic looked beautiful around Snape now in the night. It waved serenely, like streams of water, colours ranging from turquoise to ocean blue.

Snape was leaning against the balustrade, his back to Harry. He didn't look back when Harry came out, didn't even send him away, which Harry took as permission to stay. Now, he still didn't move, and Harry thought maybe he wasn't heard, then at last, Snape shook his head, just a little flinch.

Harry stood next to him. Snape took a long drag from his cig, his fingers shaking against his lips. He blew out the smoke, then said, "I told you, Potter. It happens when my emotions are high, out of control. Anger, fear, happiness… lust; it does not matter."

"I don't want to make it worse." Harry said softly. "Do you want me to leave?"

Snape finally looked towards him. "I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay right here. But you mustn't. You need to leave. We can't do this anymore."

Minutes went by, but neither of them moved to walk away. There was stillness. Only the ember glowed up occasionally as Snape blew into the cigarette. Harry looked into agitated black eyes. The wind tore into Snape's long hair, black tresses danced and flew in the air like spilled torrents of ink.

Harry understood the risks, realized what a hazardous game it would be. He knew what they would jeopardize. And yet… Snape was right there, and he wanted to reach out.

He opened his mouth, terrified and excited all at the same time.

"What if I don't want to go?"

Eyes closing for a moment, Snape just sighed. There was fierce yearning in his gaze as he watched Harry then slowly placed the cigarette to Harry's mouth. Fingertips pressed against Harry's lips and he kissed them.

"Would it be so bad?" Harry asked tentatively a minute later. His voice was quiet as a whisper, but his insinuation screamed into the night what he wanted, where he wanted to be.

Something flashed in Snape's eyes and he threw away the cigarette, and instead cupped Harry's chin. His thumb stroked Harry across the lips then he pressed the digit into Harry's mouth slightly. Harry run his tongue around it, sucked it as if it would be just a butt of a cig.

He could hear Snape gasp for air, before the man shifted closer and placed a gentle kiss on the side of Harry's forehead, near his scar.

"It would be wonderful. Breath-taking. Wild." Snape whispered in a hoarse voice. "And that's why it's so dangerous."

Harry grasped his wrist. Snape's magic pulsed in recognition. A little cry, filled with longing, broke out of Harry's throat.

"You need me," Harry said and held up his hands.

"No," Snape shook his head, yet his hands rose in the air, too. "I want you."

Harry whimpered as their hands came together and their fingers intertwined once again. Snape pulled him closer and he happily followed.

"But I won't touch you. What you do, however is beyond my control." Snape stated and through hazy, lust filled mind, Harry didn't understand what he meant at first, until Snape wedged his thigh between Harry's legs and left it there as if it was only an accident.

Harry groaned then pressed against it. Snape didn't pull away, his magic though vibrated against Harry's skin like myriads of bees.

With immense magic cruising through his veins a second time that night, Harry was barely aware of the movements of his body; the pulsing grip of his fingers, his harsh breathing against the crook of Snape's neck, he did not feel any of that. He was concentrating on one thing only: not to rock against that leg between his.

Or was he really allowed to? Didn't he just say he would control himself?

"Whatever you do, this will be the last time this happens," Snape said in a soft voice. Gentle, deep, like a brush of silk against Harry's ears. "You might as well enjoy it."

With a sharp intake of breath, Harry's mouth opened, and he pressed it against Snape's neck. He didn't want this to end ever. He'd do anything to feel this power rushing through him again and again. To have Snape's body just like this, pressing against his, full of promises.

Yet he looked up at the face that had captured his attention so long ago.

"Alone, it isn't as much fun."

Snape swallowed. Harry could feel the hesitance in him, tensing shoulders, shaking breath, before he said, "I had my fun in the study before."

It took a moment for Harry to understand what Snape meant, but the image of the man beneath him, arched from the ground, mouth open in a silent cry should have been explanation enough.

"It's only fair to allow you a chance to have yours." Snape explained.

"You… there… You…?" Harry chocked unable to form even a coherent sentence, his mind preoccupied with recalling that image over and over again. Air barely got through his throat, but his hips made an involuntary jerk forward. "Why didn't you…?"

"What, say a word?" Snape smirked. "Next time, I'll just announce it, shall I?"

Harry knew Snape didn't mean it, hell even Snape knew it, Harry could read it off his face, yet the words next time sent a wild shiver down Harry's body and he rolled his hips, this time with intent.

"There won't be a next time," Snape warned before Harry could say a word.

He could feel their connection weaken, Snape's magic was pulling back. It was like he was calming down, or rather, gaining control.

Black eyes glinted in the moonlight. "Use me," Snape said, then with a daring, smug smile he added, "I will feel better against you than my shirt did." He gave a little nudge with his leg.

Harry's body answered with a wild tug in his belly. These were no butterflies fluttering, just a monster in there, a dragon breathing fire into Harry's veins.

"I can imagine," he answered with a teasing smile. "Though with your shirt, there was nothing else between us."

"Don't be insatiable." Snape advised carefully, though Harry could tell that image didn't leave him unaffected. "This is all I dare offer you."

Snape wasn't glowing anymore. His magic quietly retreated and though Harry still felt that buzzing high everywhere in his system, he suspected it was for different reasons this time. It was weird though how quiet and calm Snape's magic had been, not at all what Harry was used to.

"It's getting easier, doesn't it?"

"Yes, and no." Snape said. "Remember, mere hour ago I lost full control. But it calms if I give in to my needs."

"And just what are your needs, Professor Snape?" Harry innocently asked then pushed his cock against Snape's thigh. "This?"

Snape huffed, leg lifting slightly. "Mr. Potter," he started darkly, "let's not play games, shall we? You're perfectly aware of what I intend to do with you. The only reason you're not on my bed with a cock up your arse at this very moment is because I am still, thank Merlin, in full control of my body at least, and I won't allow anything to happen between us."

"Is that so, Professor?" Harry asked cockily, then looked between their bodies. Snape's gaze followed.

While Harry stood idle, Snape was slowly thrusting against him, half hard cock shifting against Harry's firmly muscled leg. The motioned stopped the moment Snape became aware of it. He let Harry's hands go and gripped the balustrade instead.

Harry wasn't going to let him have mercy though. He slowly moved, shifted, leg sliding against hardness, his and Snape's, too.

"You know, I think, I wouldn't be averse to such an idea." Harry suggested carefully, his hands resting now on Snape's waist.

"What idea?" Snape grunted.

"You, me, bed. Right about now."

Snape watched him intently for a long moment, then his hands grabbed into Harry's arse, pulling him closer, as he tucked his leg against the railing. Harry was mounted on Snape's thigh, toes barely gracing the ground. He fell forwards with a low moan.

"This is my only offer," Snape growled, lips against Harry's ear. "Take it or leave it."

Harry smiled to himself. His arms hooked around Snape's head, fingers buried in long black tresses, he rolled his hips, thrust forward. He inhaled the delicious scent, let his body grind against the leg between his and pressed his thigh against Snape's cock.

As he looked between their bodies, he could clearly see the outlines of both erections, pressing firmly against blue jeans and black slacks. Harry wanted to touch it, curious how another man's penis would feel on his hand, how different it would be to stroke Snape not himself. He wondered how it would taste, how heavy it would be on his tongue.

He felt a kiss on his neck, then another and another. Snape licked the base of his throat. Hot breath caressed him, as Snape's mouth plastered against burning skin. Harry cried out when he felt him suck on his skin, leaving behind a bruise that, no doubt, he wouldn't offer to heal later on.

Fingers digging into his ass firmly guided him, helped him thrust, drew him closer. He didn't hold back, tugged on Snape's hair. Snape grunted, a low deep sigh, quivering, filled with desire. He bit down on Harry's skin.

Harry felt himself melt in pleasure. This was so good, this, barely anything, but then what would it feel like to have Snape move against him bare, exposed, naked. White skin, black hair falling down his uncovered shoulders, pressing, not against, but in…

"I want to be closer to you," he whispered softly, pleading one last time.

"Oh, Harry, you're close. You're too close already," Snape answered, breathless, moving, shifting, grinding.

Harry breathed out, a harsh sound, almost a cry. "Closer," he demanded, eyes closing fingers going down and gripping Snape's hard-on. Snape didn't stop him.

Fuck it was so weird, so foreign, yet still that dragon in Harry's stomach roared. Snape was long and hard as steel and Harry clutched, awkwardly, palm caressing with rough moves.

Snape whined, whined, a desperate, eager, needy sound and Harry leaned to his ear. He kissed the edge, ran his tongue over the rim, took the lobe in his mouth and sucked on it. His fast breathing filled Snape's mind, no doubt, he heard nothing else.

"Do you want to fuck me?" He asked in a low voice. It wasn't an offer, not quite. Just temptation in words instead of a glance.

Snape keened, his moan almost a sob. "You know I do," he choked.

One of his hands rushed up on Harry's back, pushing his clothes up, he caressed Harry's bare skin, but the other slithered down on Harry's bottom, reached between his legs deep enough that Harry felt fingertips against his bullocks.

"Oh, god," he groaned. "You make this real hard, Severus."

"Me? I make this hard?" Snape sneered then turned them around. He pressed Harry against the balustrade, hand kneading his ass, as he thrust against him hard and fast, urging. Harry kept his hand between them, rubbing it against Snape's cock.

Snape' fingers dug into Harry's back, his claws sunk into his skin as he pressed out, "What I offered you was simple and now look at us, rutting like animals."

Harry placed his hand on Snape's chest. "We're not animals, though, are we?" he asked, then pushed the man away. He didn't need much force, which was surprising, given how firm Snape had gripped him everywhere.

Confused eyes looked at him, searched his face, worried. Harry leaned to it and placed a soft kiss, barely a peck, on Snape's lips, which probably surprised him more than anything. Then Harry withdrew, breathed in deep and smiled, self-satisfied.

"Thanks for the offer, but I have to refuse."

"What?" Snape growled.

Harry hopped onto the balustrade, brushed his hair back. He shrugged. "Can I have a cigarette, please?"

Snape stared at him for a long moment, incredulous, then looked around frustrated as if wanting to ask help from someone to understand what the hell was going on. His hands fisted for a moment then he took a deep breath.

Snape looked beautiful when he was on the verge of losing control. His long straight hair was in a mess, clothes ruffled, cheeks heated, endless eyes glimmering with want. There was such immense power in him, Harry had felt it, and it was still there, all under the surface, vibrating.

Snape glared at him for a few more moments, then huffed, a smile even almost crossed his lips. He said nothing though, just fished the silver case out of his pocked and threw it at Harry's chest.

Harry caught it, opened it with satisfaction. The moment the cigarette was between his lips, Snape snapped his finger and held the little flame out for Harry to use it.

When the end of the cigarette finally glowed up, Harry leaned back, breathing out the smoke. The cigarette tasted nothing of mint, and now he knew why. It was the taste of Snape's lips, not the filter's.

"Is this your brilliant plan?" Snape asked. "Tease me, until I snap and devour you?"

Harry shrugged, innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Or to whom you are talking to, either, it seems." Snape said then slowly stepped between Harry's legs. "I'm a Slytherin, Potter, I played these games way before you were even born."

"You asked me to leave, so here I am, leaving. Well… sort of." He said, given he had no intension to go just yet.

He passed the cigarette to Snape. They just smoked for a while in quiet.

"You know this doesn't change anything, right?" Harry said quietly. "I still trust you." He looked down into the dark abyss beneath him, feeling the pull of nothingness. "Just because you're… attracted to me, it doesn't mean I shouldn't trust you. Besides, it was quite inevitable, given…"

Snape raised an eyebrow, "Don't you think a little too highly of yourself?" He asked with a huff.

Harry laughed, "I meant what your magic feels like when we touch. It's the same for you too, isn't it? Like flying, just better."

Snape nodded. "My attraction to you has nothing to do with my magic though." He let out a dark chuckle as he said, "I doubt I'd have taught Weasley Animagic the same way I taught you."

Harry shrugged. "He wouldn't even have let you. Unlike me."

"I knew it was wrong," Snape stated. "From the very first moment you stepped into my office. And it still is. Your closeness does nothing but rattle me."

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "I think I did know it, too. Something changed when we started fighting, that's why I think it's pointless to go back to it."

"Believe me, it's still the easier alternative."

Harry looked up from the cigarette that was just passed to him. Their eyes connected over the slithering smoke. Harry took the cig between his lips, sucked on it, cheeks hollowing.

His gaze went from eye to eye, trying to read Snape's expression.

"You do think of it, too, don't you," he said with a sigh as he blew the smoke gently against Snape's face.

"Think of what?" Snape said trying to pretend naivety, but his voice could never sound innocent.

Harry licked his upper lip, grinned, then shook his head. He looked over Snape's body, he was still hard, he didn't even try to hide it. Neither did Harry.

Hands ran up his thigh, gentle, just a soft caress.

"You watch my lips every time I put this shit in my mouth."

"Oh, I'm just admiring your technique."

Harry snorted. "Blatant lies." He thought for a moment, took another small gasp of the cig then asked, "Is it weird to…?" He nodded towards Snape's cock.

Snape just raised an eyebrow questioningly. Fucking bastard was enjoying this.

"To suck someone." Harry trudged on relentless.

Snape's eyes flashed, then he suggested darkly, "Why not drop to your knees and give it a try?"

Harry shivered and a rush of arousal washed over him. Oh god, yes, he thought before he realized Snape was only teasing him.

The professor bit into his lower lip not to smile, then answered. "It is not weird, if you have the taste for it." His palms caressed Harry's thighs, and though they still remained tender, there was nothing calming in the motion. Black eyes that seemed to sparkle with a distant fire looked up at him from beneath long black lashes. "Do you have a taste for it?" Snape asked slowly.

If he didn't until today, he sure as hell was interested now. But Snape didn't need to know that.

"And the other stuff?" He asked instead.

"The other stuff, Mr. Potter?" Snape echoed mockingly.

"You know what I mean."

"I still want you to say it out loud."

"Why? Because it's embarrassing?"

"No, to get you accustomed to the idea."

Harry choked a little and couldn't answer. He swallowed hard. This wasn't a surprise. Snape made it clear what he wanted just a little while ago. Why was still a dragon coiling and twisting in Harry's belly?

He concentrated then blurted out, "To be with a bloke. To… to have sex with another guy. Is it weird? Painful?"

A smile flickered across Snape's lips, but he answered seriously. "It's… different. With adequate preparations, you do not even feel pain. Regarding the weirdness of it, if you feel uncomfortable doing anything, may it be with me or anyone else, you have to make that clear. It doesn't necessarily have to be more painful than a similar act between a woman and a man. Unless that is how you want it." He added with a dangerous smirk.

Harry made a noncommittal huff. He wouldn't know about that, would he.

Snape's expression changed suddenly, became assessing, thoughtful.

"Could it be," he said slowly with a soft chuckle, "that our dear Mr. Potter is still a virgin?"

Harry looked away, suddenly flushed. "So what?" He murmured.

With two fingers on his chin, Snape made Harry look back at him. "You never slept with her?"

Harry didn't know what it was, the fact Snape didn't – couldn't – say Ginny's name, or the tone that wasn't mocking at all as Harry had expected but was tender, affectionate, but he did answer in the end. "No. Apparently I was more interested in learning to fly with you, then in having sex with my girlfriend."

Snape swallowed, he almost looked anxious for a moment. His hands slipped from Harry's thighs to his waist. Harry fidgeted slightly on the balustrade.

He knew what was about to come, yet even that couldn't prepare him.

Snape leaned in slowly, head tilted slightly. Black eyes closed half-way and so did Harry's; then on, it was just sensations.

Hot breath on his lips, the scent of fresh rain in his nose. His hands went from the marble over to Snape's chest, then slithered to his shoulders. One went even beyond and slid up to Snape's neck, fingertips brushing against soft, feather-like tresses.

Snape kissed him tenderly. His lips barely touched Harry's lower lip then already moved away just to taste his upper one. It was passionate, yet still restrained, fluttering with a promise of more. Harry only felt a tease of a tongue sliding against his lip, then Snape was moving again, kissing him elsewhere.

With Ginny, he was always conscious, there, feeling embarrassed about the sounds, anything. Not now though. Snape kissed differently somehow, as if he had till the end of time to explore, he lingered there, didn't pull back right away. He wanted to feel, flavour every taste. Harry wanted just the same.

The taste of mint wasn't overwhelming now, wasn't vivid, just a memory, reminiscence of tea. Beneath it, a much stronger, heavier taste was Snape himself. Heady, addictive, like his soft lips against Harry's.

Harry felt something flow down his throat, pool into his stomach, like the taste of Felix Felicis, of liquid luck, but better, always better, better than anything else. As they kissed leisurely, he had sunken somewhere deep as if the abyss behind him would have pulled him down.

"I faintly remember you starting the night with I won't touch you." Harry said feeling breathless when they pulled slightly apart. He didn't want to open his eyes, afraid that whatever feeble vision this might be, it would evaporate.

"I, too, seem to remember something along those lines," Snape admitted then kissed him again, this time tongue going just a little bit deeper, teasing, lapping against Harry's, carefully, innocently as if this, any of this, anything that Snape ever did could be innocent. Like his voice, his person, too, was far from innocent and as Harry pushed his tongue into Snape's mouth, he experienced that first hand.

Hot, wet, heady – still not a battle, still not raw, but they were there, tiptoeing on the border of both of them wanting to move just a little bit more, just a little bit faster, just a little bit harder.

The first moment Harry felt teeth nibbling on his lower lip he grunted out, the dragon in his belly lifting its big head, fidgeting agitated. Snape's hand too, moved restless on his body, wanting to touch everything, yet keeping that seemingly innocent picture that this was nothing more than a simple kiss, nothing more dangerous, not yet.

Oh, but it was, and Harry knew it perfectly. Snape's resolve was crumbling, kiss by kiss, every lick against those thin lips took something away from the man, of his ability to say no, to stay sane, responsible. How could this ever remain pure when they both wanted to touch, seize, take and taste.

Harry could barely breathe, Snape kissed the line of his neck, then when he came up, he dragged his tongue over the skin. Harry felt his prickly five-o'clock shadow burn his jaw. Yeah, not like a girl at all, firmer, stronger, leaner – better, oh how much better.

Snape pressed closer to him and Harry hooked his legs around the man, pulling him in. Snape was breathing so fast as if they had been duelling not kissing, though truth be told, their hearts surely beat fast enough, just like after a fight.

"Oh god, Severus…" Harry moaned, mouth seeking out the other man's. When did he become Severus? When was that moment when Snape, the vile, bitter man ceased to exist? Just now? In the Astronomy Tower? Even before? On a field glimmering with the white lights of death? Did it matter?

He had been there now for a while, standing at the edge of the precipice, toes curling around the hard rock. To learn to fly he had to first learn to fall. He might have needed a little push, but he knew he could trust him. Severus could never let him crash.

The end was still far away and once again, Harry let himself over to that tumbling sensation that occurred when falling. There was something freeing in it, to have blind faith that if he did fall, iridescent wings of a shadow would surely lift him.

And one day perhaps, even fall with him.