Author name: Lovecraft
Author email: starlightstrands@hotmail.com
Category: Slash: Severus/Harry
Keywords: Angst, First-Kiss
Rating: Hard R.
Spoilers: None, really. Although it'd help to know the books, just for character reference. *rae*
Summary: The Professor comes to a few realizations.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. But damn, it'd be lovely if I did. Oh, the things I'd do.
Series Title: Needs Unmet
~*~
The Scent of Loneliness
~*~
Scent has always been of great importance in my life. When I work with my potions, I know by the smell of freshly cut lavender that the pepper-up potion is only one step from needing to be cooled. When the scent of burnt raspberries wafts up, then the drought for pleasant dreams is ready to be bottled. I have always had a keen sense of smell.
That is why I'm so startled when I move to check on the work Potter's been doing for his detention. Freshly-turned earth is the scent that eminates from him, as though he'd just returned from the Quidditch field. Also the scent of those few minutes just before a rain fall, the wildness of the wind, and the electricity in the air.
One breath and my arousal immediately begins to awaken; I loathe my inability to control it. It's such a familiar scent I suppose it's become a sort of ringing bell to that muggle Pavlov's dogs. I close my eyes in an attempt to calm myself, but behind my eyelids I can see the dark halls that lead to a cleverly disguised room where the scent of lightning and rain about to break is ever-present. A slow burn of anticipation begins in my stomach and I quickly open my eyes. I meet jade (jaded?) green eyes and wish, for my own sanity, that I had kept my eyes closed.
"You've been watching me." I can't gather my wits together enough to inject anger or sarcasm or even righteous indignation. Perhaps I'm in shock? The shock of knowledge, certainly. For two years I have sought out the abandoned room for it's solitude and peace. For two years I have gone there to relieve the tensions that could have been fulfilled by a lover, had I been willing to accept another. "You followed me in and you were *watching* me..."
He blushes now, the color like a cherry blossom, delicate pink on cream. "The first time was an accident. I was there first, I got lost when one of the stairs switched around on me, then you came in and..." The delicate blush darkens, I'm entranced.
"I never saw you. Do you normally wear your invisibility cloak when wandering the school?" Finally, my own cloak of menace and anger emerges.
"It was after hours," I knew that, of course. Anytime I went to the room was after hours. "I was doing some last minute studying in the library and I fell asleep." His lips quirk up in a semi-smile, his tone becomes wry. "Studying for a potions paper, if you'll believe it."
I feel my own lips pull back into a sneer, or perhaps a snarl if the boy's reaction says anything. His eyes widen and his pupils dilate. "So you decided to stay and watch, and in fact, decided to continue following me. Any particular reason, Potter? Or did you just want to humiliate me?"
His face settles into a look that somehow manages to convey pity and stubborness. "If I had been looking to humiliate you, I could have done so at any time during the past two years."
"Then *why*?"
He sighs and presses his hands against his eyes, suddenly looking tired. "You were beautiful, Snape. You looked so achingly fragile but so strong, and so very alone." Alone, yes. I was, am, definately alone. "I wanted, I don't know, I wanted you to know I was there. I wanted you to know that you weren't alone and you were *desired*." He laughs when he looks at me, the sound, usually so joyous and pleased, like broken glass. "But you would never look at me, like that. Never me." Never anyone, in all the years since before my betrayal of Voldemort. I couldn't risk someone's life for just a few moments of pleasure.
My mind screams at me to retreat, my body refuses to listen. It's in shock and my thoughts are whirling. I've dealt with school crushes before, not often, but often enough. Degrade him, snarl at him, tell him he's right, that you would never look at him, he's just a child. But he's not, hasn't been a boy since he defeated Voldemort, regardless of the number of years he's lived, and the offer of an end to the loneliness is more appealing than I had ever realised.
I say nothing. My hands clench at my sides and my mouth opens as though to speak, but the silence stretches on. Finally, cheeks still rose-colored, he steps up and presses against my body. I should step back, break contact, do something. He kisses me, so soft and sweet. I melt down against him with a sound suspiciously like a sob.
His hands cradle my face as he kisses me again. It's not innocent, but it is inexperienced. It's so warm and it deepens until I can taste him on my tongue, feel his heartbeat on my lips. I should go, he's a *student*. My hands grasp at his waist and hold tight, perhaps too tight; he whimpers, but doesn't shake loose.
Sweetened lemon. He tastes of sweetened lemon. Perhaps a candy or a treat from the house elves. It's so hot inside his mouth and he's devouring me. I'm going to burn forever for what I'm doing right here, right now, but it's so sweet. I should stop, I should tell him we can't, that I'm too old, that he's just started in this world, that he's finally got his freedom. In a few months he'll graduate and never come back to Hogwarts again, but I'll be left here, alone and cold and aching for this so-sweet warmth.
When we finally part I find myself panting, reeling. My lips tingle and I want nothing more than to fall back into his embrace and drink the heat from his body.
I gather my courage and run.
Author email: starlightstrands@hotmail.com
Category: Slash: Severus/Harry
Keywords: Angst, First-Kiss
Rating: Hard R.
Spoilers: None, really. Although it'd help to know the books, just for character reference. *rae*
Summary: The Professor comes to a few realizations.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. But damn, it'd be lovely if I did. Oh, the things I'd do.
Series Title: Needs Unmet
~*~
The Scent of Loneliness
~*~
Scent has always been of great importance in my life. When I work with my potions, I know by the smell of freshly cut lavender that the pepper-up potion is only one step from needing to be cooled. When the scent of burnt raspberries wafts up, then the drought for pleasant dreams is ready to be bottled. I have always had a keen sense of smell.
That is why I'm so startled when I move to check on the work Potter's been doing for his detention. Freshly-turned earth is the scent that eminates from him, as though he'd just returned from the Quidditch field. Also the scent of those few minutes just before a rain fall, the wildness of the wind, and the electricity in the air.
One breath and my arousal immediately begins to awaken; I loathe my inability to control it. It's such a familiar scent I suppose it's become a sort of ringing bell to that muggle Pavlov's dogs. I close my eyes in an attempt to calm myself, but behind my eyelids I can see the dark halls that lead to a cleverly disguised room where the scent of lightning and rain about to break is ever-present. A slow burn of anticipation begins in my stomach and I quickly open my eyes. I meet jade (jaded?) green eyes and wish, for my own sanity, that I had kept my eyes closed.
"You've been watching me." I can't gather my wits together enough to inject anger or sarcasm or even righteous indignation. Perhaps I'm in shock? The shock of knowledge, certainly. For two years I have sought out the abandoned room for it's solitude and peace. For two years I have gone there to relieve the tensions that could have been fulfilled by a lover, had I been willing to accept another. "You followed me in and you were *watching* me..."
He blushes now, the color like a cherry blossom, delicate pink on cream. "The first time was an accident. I was there first, I got lost when one of the stairs switched around on me, then you came in and..." The delicate blush darkens, I'm entranced.
"I never saw you. Do you normally wear your invisibility cloak when wandering the school?" Finally, my own cloak of menace and anger emerges.
"It was after hours," I knew that, of course. Anytime I went to the room was after hours. "I was doing some last minute studying in the library and I fell asleep." His lips quirk up in a semi-smile, his tone becomes wry. "Studying for a potions paper, if you'll believe it."
I feel my own lips pull back into a sneer, or perhaps a snarl if the boy's reaction says anything. His eyes widen and his pupils dilate. "So you decided to stay and watch, and in fact, decided to continue following me. Any particular reason, Potter? Or did you just want to humiliate me?"
His face settles into a look that somehow manages to convey pity and stubborness. "If I had been looking to humiliate you, I could have done so at any time during the past two years."
"Then *why*?"
He sighs and presses his hands against his eyes, suddenly looking tired. "You were beautiful, Snape. You looked so achingly fragile but so strong, and so very alone." Alone, yes. I was, am, definately alone. "I wanted, I don't know, I wanted you to know I was there. I wanted you to know that you weren't alone and you were *desired*." He laughs when he looks at me, the sound, usually so joyous and pleased, like broken glass. "But you would never look at me, like that. Never me." Never anyone, in all the years since before my betrayal of Voldemort. I couldn't risk someone's life for just a few moments of pleasure.
My mind screams at me to retreat, my body refuses to listen. It's in shock and my thoughts are whirling. I've dealt with school crushes before, not often, but often enough. Degrade him, snarl at him, tell him he's right, that you would never look at him, he's just a child. But he's not, hasn't been a boy since he defeated Voldemort, regardless of the number of years he's lived, and the offer of an end to the loneliness is more appealing than I had ever realised.
I say nothing. My hands clench at my sides and my mouth opens as though to speak, but the silence stretches on. Finally, cheeks still rose-colored, he steps up and presses against my body. I should step back, break contact, do something. He kisses me, so soft and sweet. I melt down against him with a sound suspiciously like a sob.
His hands cradle my face as he kisses me again. It's not innocent, but it is inexperienced. It's so warm and it deepens until I can taste him on my tongue, feel his heartbeat on my lips. I should go, he's a *student*. My hands grasp at his waist and hold tight, perhaps too tight; he whimpers, but doesn't shake loose.
Sweetened lemon. He tastes of sweetened lemon. Perhaps a candy or a treat from the house elves. It's so hot inside his mouth and he's devouring me. I'm going to burn forever for what I'm doing right here, right now, but it's so sweet. I should stop, I should tell him we can't, that I'm too old, that he's just started in this world, that he's finally got his freedom. In a few months he'll graduate and never come back to Hogwarts again, but I'll be left here, alone and cold and aching for this so-sweet warmth.
When we finally part I find myself panting, reeling. My lips tingle and I want nothing more than to fall back into his embrace and drink the heat from his body.
I gather my courage and run.