Here comes the smut. And the solution. Only an epilogue to follow…
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He turned around slowly.
Yes. Yes. And yes.
He was there. Perfect. Naked and perfect. Severus felt his body rise to the occasion. He wanted to say something, anything, to make the air less tense, make himself feel less pathetic. But he couldn't. He knew full well that this was not more than an illusion, he really did, but his body and soul didn't give a damn. They wanted to believe, desperately. And they won.
The other man came closer. His body was reacting too. Strange, when he thought about it, but his brain was alone with the task and gave up, too, when the man was near. Dark blue eyes fell into black ones, the other man was nearly as tall as Severus and as thin. His hair was a curly brownish red mop. Severus' eyes tried to take in the whole picture but other parts of his body had other just as urgent needs. Touch, smell, feel. Yes, feel.
"What took you so long?", the voice of the other man sounded strangely strangled, when Severus pulled him closer, slowly, oh so slowly, as if he still couldn't believe what he saw and felt. "I don't know", whispered Snape in a voice that was as subdued with feeling. Then he pulled the face of the other man close enough to kiss and kiss he did.
And there was no disturbing lack of anything then, nothing was too much, nothing missing. It was perfect. Completely and utterly perfect. He had kissed this man once, but they had parted before anything more could happen, the other, merely a boy then, and a truly special one at that, as outraged by their trespassing the rules as he himself. He had returned, the morning after, but until then Severus had summoned up enough courage and venom to send him away, forever. And all he had left as a reminder of his stupidity was the stray lock, originally thought for preparing a potion in class, but failing to go to that fate by someone blowing up a cauldron. The boy had helped him to bring the situation under control, as always, and they ended up alone in class, counting the losses. Well, no real loss had to be counted among them, not anything that was really worth mentioning. Snape had lost contact with his heart long before. He didn't miss it – much.
It beat strongly, just now, at that. The illusion was perfect. The boy was not as he had been when Snape had last seen him, but as he would be now. His hair was longer, for once, and he didn't wear glasses. Snape wondered shortly about that. Not that he minded. The longer hair framed the delicate face just wonderfully. His brain was in no position to argue. It insisted, astonishingly enough, on enjoying what was given. For once, and together with his body. And so he did.
His hands roamed about the naked body. Thin, yes, but strong. Much like his own. It was the similarity between them that had attracted him first. Not of the body. That had come later. One day, in a flash of self-knowledge that really hurt, he had seen himself in Percy, trying so hard to get the attention he craved. Doing everything for it. The third Weasley in a row of others much more spectacular than himself – if only in trouble-making - had chosen slightly other means than little lonely Severus. But their goal was the same. Severus had snorted at his own delusions then, and put them deep down inside, together with other things he just wouldn't think about. But from that point in time onwards he had watched the boy. Well, and then, on this fatal morning of double potions, it had seemed as if he hadn't been the only one watching.
Watching wouldn't do right now. Was not enough. By far. He pressed the man closer to himself, clung to him with lips and hands and everything. Ah, he thought, would be much better with less clothes on.
"Let me", the other muttered and deft fingers opened his robe completely, then the overcoat, then the shirt, and then there was a loud sigh when naked body met naked body. A peaked nipple brushed goose-pimpled skin, then the bodies crashed together.
Severus blinked. She, he was good. There had not only been his sigh. Well, no need to think about that right now. Feel, touch. Kiss. Try not to end it too soon. Try to get your trousers off, first. At least.
Kissing. Kissing was just fine, as far as it went. Lead to other things. Kissing like that at least did. His mind was foggy and his knees wobbly. He secured his mouth with a wet sound that would have annoyed him under different circumstances. He was panting. My god, someone might think he hadn't done this for years. And that someone would be right. He didn't recall that just kissing led to such arousal and made one feel like one had run a mile at high speed. Well, more like flown on a broomstick for a whole day. And couldn't get rid of the stick afterwards.
He looked into the eyes that had needed glasses long ago. They seemed to see well enough nowadays. Or perhaps not. So much the better. They blinked, now, and a throaty voice said: "What do you want me to do, Severus?"
Snape gulped. Reminiscences flooded his brain. Ever so eager, such a good pupil, always out to satisfy the teacher. Ridiculed by his class mates for being the teacher's pet, a lick spit and an ass-kisser. Well, that would be just right. For the beginning.
He let his eyes roam about the face and body of the other man. "Everything". His voice was barely a whisper.
The eyes of the man who was Percy Weasley lit up. As did his face. Redheads were so telling, their skin just couldn't hide anything. Severus thought it – cute. He knew he was in danger, but willing to drown in it. "Good", whispered the boy and went down on him.
Severus managed not to groan when an eager mouth sucked on his throat, his collar bone, his left nipple. He managed not to gasp when a hot wet tongue dipped into his navel, swirled around and licked it thoroughly. But when the fingers that had opened his robe so deftly, stroked along the waistband of his trousers, crawling into them, just a little, he couldn't help bucking helplessly.
The dark red head moved – in the wrong direction. Deep eyes looked at him with a hint of amusement. "I got your clue already, there's no need to press the point". Severus managed not to pant. He only breathed through clenched teeth. "You were always a quick study, Mr. Weasley. But you always wanted to get extra mention for it."
"Oh did I?", the youth kneeling before him traced the outline of his cock with his fingers. Snape did not buck again, just not. "Yes", he hissed. On a second glance from the youth he added: "Yes, you were always so desperate for recognition." "Oh, was I?", hot breath followed the fingers. "Yes", Snape hissed again. "You were. It was one of your more endearing traits. Now you have wasted your time with being in the company of your siblings far too much. I can tell. They have rubbed off on you. I discover traits of William's stubbornness. And of course the impudence of these god-forsaken twins." His breath grew more ragged as the breath was followed by just the faintest touch of lips. "Not to mention the formidable Mr. Ronald Weasley, valiant knight of Mr. Potter himself."
There was a bite. A very light one, but still. Severus did not scream. No. He panted helplessly as the mouth left him and dark blue eyes looked at him through dark lashes. Astonishing, come to think of it, how dark the lashes of this boy were. Not at all the rat-like white and rosy ones some of the others had.
"Talking about impudence", a voice that was lower and softer than he remembered, said. "Don't you think it is a bit unfortunate, that you call on my brothers now and here? This is to satisfy you deepest dreams. Am I to conclude that you would like them here, too? That could be arranged, you know."
Severus set his lips in a thin line. Damn! He had done it again. Nearly driven the incarnation of boy away, for fear of being hurt. Just like last time. Hurting before you get hurt. Not indulging in his fantasies, no not he. Trust Severus Snape to drive away the fulfilment of his dreams, just when fulfilment was in reach.
He bit his lip. "No I wouldn't", he muttered with as much venom as was left him with his body aflame. The boy wouldn't expect him to apologise, now would he? And if he did, he would be sadly mistaken.
A satisfied, nearly smug grin crossed the handsome face. "Good", the young man breathed again and the head bent down. "Don't fight it, Severus, relax."
Well how could he possibly relax? Severus Snape stifled a groan as the lips he had longed for for years covered his still clothed erection adding more wetness to what had been a perfectly sensible garment. Deft fingers opened the buttons that held the cloth in place and the fingers of the other hand crawled into the sliding pants, as if they couldn't wait. Severus felt his hips buck helplessly and his knees tremble pathetically. He stumbled across the room a few steps, just enough to sit down rather gracelessly onto the big bed, dragging the boy with him.
That was so much better, he decided. The strength he had needed to keep up a standing position was very useful elsewhere. Hold his equilibrium or what was left of it, when the boy slid down his pants. They pooled across his ankles on the floor. Now there was only a very thin line to cross. A silken one.
Dark blue eyes grinned at him. The boy had changed, quite a bit. Well, wait, it was not the boy. No, no need to go there. For all appearances it was him. And appearances were what counted, were they not? The mouth that was so much like his own, a thin line under most circumstances, smiled. "Dressed yourself up a little, didn't you?"
Severus managed to breathe evenly. Well, nearly evenly under the very light fondling of fingers through the soft cloth and an even lighter breath on it. "How would you know? I can't remember – argh". Now the breathing had turned to touching. Wet lips touching him through soft silk. Well, there was something said for silk, definitely. The book had been right. Severus fell back on the bed and closed his eyes. He did not pant, not really. And he didn't object as the new silken underpants were subjected to a treatment he wasn't sure became them. The wet lips were followed by a wicked tongue that made the cloth even wetter. And his erection more painful.
But the boy had always been a painstakingly diligent student. That hadn't changed, it seemed. Must have been deeply ingrained in the lock of hair. Even under these circumstances the Potions master in Severus couldn't help but wonder. Must have been more in that one lock than had met the eye. Percy didn't turn to the matter most urgently at hand. No. He set on licking the whole body of Snape from toes to ears and backwards.
Snape had never experienced anything the like, ever. And his whole body was so aroused, his nerve ends tingling almost painfully, that when the lips met his left nipple again, hands holding his hips, he came. Helplessly, swearing and hips bucking against the hands like mad. Then he fell back onto the bed and passed out. At least partly. He was still dimly aware of the surroundings, of another being, breathing and touching, but he couldn't move, not for the life of him.
For some minutes. Then he was able to lift his head a few inches when he tried. He met the gaze of the boy that reminded him very much of his time in school. That same grin he had had when proud of achieving something, being best in anything. Of course Snape hadn't acknowledged it then. But he would have given points to Gryffindor, and lots of them, if he had had the slightest inkling that Percy was still so dependent on praise. But it seemed he hadn't only changed on the outside. He didn't wait for his ex-teacher's approval, but removed the last piece of garment on him, caressing the limp legs in a down-to-earth-way that Snape found quite charming. If a little irritating. For all he knew Percy could have been cleaning a cauldron, a diligent pupil doing his best, but no personal attachment to the case at hand. Well, why should he?
Snape tried to breathe calmly and adjust his raving thoughts. He was not too proud of himself. And none too satisfied either. He would have liked this to go on. On and on and on. He had already said that he would. And now he had only lasted for – well, a very humiliating amount of time.
The dark blue eyes looked at him as if waiting for instructions. Sitting on his feet and knees, stark naked between the open and still shivering legs of his former teacher, the boy could have been at class, awaiting instructions how to proceed with the matter. Well, after another glance – he didn't seem to have lost his own impetus. Snape felt a spark of new interest at the sight.
Plus, the boy had learned to read minds. Idiot, he called himself shortly after this thought, he is a madam of a whorehouse, and he knows how to deal with things. The boy who was Percy grabbed into the nightstand and handed a small vial over to Severus. Who cocked an eyebrow at him but gulped the content without further ado. Idiotic, maybe, but Percy Weasley had no reason to kill him. His head jerked up. But what did he know about the person who impersonated Percy? Nothing, nothing at all. For all he knew, this whole thing could have been a set up of the dark side to kill all the people at Hogwarts. And what a good idea. He blinked rapidly, fighting his bout of panic with breathing and trying to think rationally. He was not Moody, no he wasn't.
He felt a touch on his shoulder. "Relax, Severus", the slightly amused voice said. "Don't let your paranoia get the better of you. It's only a revivifying potion." Snape glared at the boy, no, the man, but didn't try to quibble. It helped that he tasted the unmistakable tingle of ginger and ginseng and felt new fire running through his veins.
"Good", a voice, the old Percy Weasley had never had, said. "Now you are ready to get on with it." "Hm?", Severus managed to pretend to be indifferent, but that changed by the minute. The sight of that sweet white skin, freckled and gleaming with a hint of sweat, bespeaking his state of arousal as much as the more obvious token raking the air and prodding him in the inner thigh, added to the potion he had taken. Indifference was far from him. His brain was frantically calling up and abolishing positions. He looked at the boy with a touch of new lust in his unfathomable eyes. They roused a spark in the dark blue eyes in front and a grin that turned the thin face into something Snape couldn't remember having seen before. But he rather liked his Weasley like that. No one would have thought of Percy Weasley as an erotic dream come true, but this incarnation surely was. All of him dripped with knowledge and a nonchalance the young boy had surely not had. Snape noticed that his mouth was watering. Disgusting, but true. "Speaking of getting on with it", he drawled, "don't you think it high time to make the best of two very good potions as long as their effects last?"
The blue eyes lit up. "Just waiting for you, love", the boy whispered in a hoarse voice and even as Severus knew that this denomination didn't mean a thing, especially not the real thing, he couldn't help being quite – touched - by it. He grabbed the shoulders of the boy – lean but well-muscled, he must get some kind of exercise, his drowsy brain decided, while the rest of him enjoyed the touch and the feel of the texture of the skin – and pulled him onto him. The boy obliged willingly, slithering over him like an animal that was not so very Gryffindor. Perhaps he overrated this house thing, Snape's brain thought lazily before giving in to pleasure. And biting was something the boy would do quite well, too. And more. Much more.
They were lying together on the bed after a long time and more positions than Snape had come to imagine before. It had all been very satisfying and Snape's body felt better than it had felt for years. But his – well other parts he wouldn't name for fear of laughing at himself, were a bit – sad. Post-orgasmic trauma of some kind, he wanted to belittle his feelings like he used to. But part of him wasn't fooled. It knew all too well that he was sad. Sad that this wasn't the real thing. Sad that any time soon the boy would change into quite another person. A person Snape liked well enough, but wasn't and would never become his dream come true. Well, and just at this moment, being weak and satisfied and tired, he gave in to temptation and be honest, if only to himself. He would have rather liked to have this Percy with him. All times. In every way imaginable. Living with him, talking with him. Well, fucking him, of course, too. And none too seldom. But, alas, things being like they were, he had settle for less. Which was considerable more than he would have expected for his life some time ago. He would brew and deliver Polyjuice potion and sample the advantages of being a friend of the house. Somehow he would blackmail the younger Weasleys into getting him something from their older brother. He was not above a little criminal offence if he thought he could get away with it. And he would give in to temptation more than he wanted, he knew it just now. Knowing it would be bitter-sweet at the most. But that was sweeter than his whole life up to this moment.
"Severus?". Oh yes. He was still there. Strange, come to think of it. He must have got the recipe wrong. Surely there had been hours idled away with – sex? Well, not exactly idled. He felt a smug smile tug at his lips. He looked over to the face he – well, loved. Somehow he could as well think it. It was not dangerous, not as it would have been had it been the real thing.
"Yes?" What would there be now? Business relations? The setting of a regular date? He was open to anything, well, quite literally. The smug smile broke out, he knew it.
"I have to tell you something, Sev." The voice sounded a bit afraid and it felt strange to hear that pet name after the deed was done. Not bad, in a way, but reminding him of things that could not be had. Well, he had never been sorry for himself, well, not for long, anyway, and he wouldn't start just yet.
"What is it?" He tried to keep his voice as calm and low as he could. What could it possibly be? Nothing this person said could hurt him. The person was not important enough. It was only the potion.
"I...". Must be something big, it seemed. Couldn't meet him again, not like that. Oh well, his life was just like that. Nothing to be mad about.
"What?" His voice sounded a bit impatient, he couldn't help it, it was like that. He closed his eyes, he didn't want to see the change that was soon to come. Must be.
Something soft touched his cheek. He opened one eye. And saw a freckled hand holding a red lock of hair.