10.
Severus closed his eyes, trying to get a hold on himself, to achieve some measure of control. His mind was shattered and racing, his thoughts a cauldron of tenderness and loathing, panic, resentment, and anger. An alchemy of dark and light, boiling and blending and adding up to this wild, raging hunger. He wanted to grab the boy and shake him. To collapse against Potter and weep out all his sorrows and frustrations. He wanted to consume the boy, to feed on the light in those vivid eyes until it flickered and died out. To touch Potter's skin reverently, to worship him like a supplicant at an altar of light.
Potter blew his mind wide open, bathed it in cold, hard brightness, vast and dizzy, relentless and dazzling. There was no place to hide, not from himself, not from Potter. He was being undone, and Potter was the cause, and the remedy. To touch Potter was to be consumed by sweet waves of dark sensation, to drown out the horrible brightness with simple, overpowering desire.
Potter whimpered, and Severus opened his eyes. The boy was pinned under him, flat on his back, his trousers open and a pair of cotton boxers sitting low on his hips, his lips slightly parted, and his tongue glistened between them. His eyes flickered in and out of view as his glasses flashed in the firelight.
Severus swept the boy into his arms, one hand wrapped firmly behind Potter's neck, holding the exact spot where he had held Potter this afternoon to administer the truth serum antidote. Potter stared up at him, his green eyes wide and wild beneath the glass, his lips parted and slightly soft.
Severus lowered his body slowly over Potter's, drew Potter's lower lip into his mouth and sucked gently, then kissed him full-on, caressing the small tongue with his own. Potter made a surprised sound, an unbelievably arousing sound. His hands slid up Severus' body, leaving hot tingling trails through the rough wool of Severus' robes, wrapping around Severus' shoulders, moving down his back and finally squeezing his arse. A wave of blinding sensation rushed through him and he moaned deep into Potter's throat. He was crushing the boy's lips, kissing him wildly, unable to prevent his own hips from grinding exquisitely into the heat of Potter's erection. So hot, so hard, even through their clothes. Severus was not going to last long.
He shifted his weight and let himself fall to Potter's side, allowing his hands access to Potter's whole body. His hips, which seemed to have a mind of their own, moved against Potter's thigh, and he made a high, involuntary sound, almost a whine. He ran his hand down Potter's slender side, hooked his thumb over a hip bone, (which felt very warm, even through the fabric of Potter's trousers) and finally moved his hand toward the hot space where Potter's trousers opened in a V. Potter's erection tented his boxer shorts, twitching in a steady, needy rhythm.
Severus propped himself up on one arm and circled his palm over the thin cotton. The fabric stuck damply to Potter's skin; he could feel the feel the softness of the skin and crisp roughness of pubic hair. Smoothness and heat. Potter whined, thrusting into Severus' hand. There was something unbelievably pure about the boy's desperate abandon, his face shiny with sweat, his hands grasping and twisting at the sheets, his glasses slightly foggy and askew.
Potter's cock was burning beneath his hand. Severus' blood was roaring in his ears, his heart pounding through his body. Potter's eyes were wide open, shining with hot and cold lights, and Severus was suddenly certain that if he didn't look away he would sink into those eyes and never find his way back. He wondered what he looked like to Potter, from behind those eyes.
Severus closed his eyes, trying to get a hold on himself, to achieve some measure of control. His mind was shattered and racing, his thoughts a cauldron of tenderness and loathing, panic, resentment, and anger. An alchemy of dark and light, boiling and blending and adding up to this wild, raging hunger. He wanted to grab the boy and shake him. To collapse against Potter and weep out all his sorrows and frustrations. He wanted to consume the boy, to feed on the light in those vivid eyes until it flickered and died out. To touch Potter's skin reverently, to worship him like a supplicant at an altar of light.
Potter blew his mind wide open, bathed it in cold, hard brightness, vast and dizzy, relentless and dazzling. There was no place to hide, not from himself, not from Potter. He was being undone, and Potter was the cause, and the remedy. To touch Potter was to be consumed by sweet waves of dark sensation, to drown out the horrible brightness with simple, overpowering desire.
Potter whimpered, and Severus opened his eyes. The boy was pinned under him, flat on his back, his trousers open and a pair of cotton boxers sitting low on his hips, his lips slightly parted, and his tongue glistened between them. His eyes flickered in and out of view as his glasses flashed in the firelight.
Severus swept the boy into his arms, one hand wrapped firmly behind Potter's neck, holding the exact spot where he had held Potter this afternoon to administer the truth serum antidote. Potter stared up at him, his green eyes wide and wild beneath the glass, his lips parted and slightly soft.
Severus lowered his body slowly over Potter's, drew Potter's lower lip into his mouth and sucked gently, then kissed him full-on, caressing the small tongue with his own. Potter made a surprised sound, an unbelievably arousing sound. His hands slid up Severus' body, leaving hot tingling trails through the rough wool of Severus' robes, wrapping around Severus' shoulders, moving down his back and finally squeezing his arse. A wave of blinding sensation rushed through him and he moaned deep into Potter's throat. He was crushing the boy's lips, kissing him wildly, unable to prevent his own hips from grinding exquisitely into the heat of Potter's erection. So hot, so hard, even through their clothes. Severus was not going to last long.
He shifted his weight and let himself fall to Potter's side, allowing his hands access to Potter's whole body. His hips, which seemed to have a mind of their own, moved against Potter's thigh, and he made a high, involuntary sound, almost a whine. He ran his hand down Potter's slender side, hooked his thumb over a hip bone, (which felt very warm, even through the fabric of Potter's trousers) and finally moved his hand toward the hot space where Potter's trousers opened in a V. Potter's erection tented his boxer shorts, twitching in a steady, needy rhythm.
Severus propped himself up on one arm and circled his palm over the thin cotton. The fabric stuck damply to Potter's skin; he could feel the feel the softness of the skin and crisp roughness of pubic hair. Smoothness and heat. Potter whined, thrusting into Severus' hand. There was something unbelievably pure about the boy's desperate abandon, his face shiny with sweat, his hands grasping and twisting at the sheets, his glasses slightly foggy and askew.
Potter's cock was burning beneath his hand. Severus' blood was roaring in his ears, his heart pounding through his body. Potter's eyes were wide open, shining with hot and cold lights, and Severus was suddenly certain that if he didn't look away he would sink into those eyes and never find his way back. He wondered what he looked like to Potter, from behind those eyes.
