Thanks for the reviews. Lorelei, you are a wonder!
Well, it gave me incentive enough to get on with it, and this will be one part more than I thought. The end is already written, I just have to get the hoopla done, you know, tragic as it might seem:-)
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Snape's lips were trembling, Harry noticed through his fogged-up glasses. Either that or Snape was muttering so low that he couldn't hear him. And that was not so very plausible as he was close enough to feel his heart beat. Rapidly, at that, or was that his own? He couldn't quite tell them apart. Harry would have laughed at the notion that he and Snape shared something as common as a heartbeat just a week earlier, and perhaps he would in some years from now, but at the moment he wasn't about to do so. He was using the pause his breathlessness had given him, to ponder the question if he should just get on with it or catch Snape's eye to look for clues.
He felt the chest of the teacher inflate as if Snape was catching his breath to deal him the terminable blow. Something like: "Very nice Potter, but not nearly as effective as this twit Finnigan." Nope, Harry didn't want to hear that. He didn't want to hear anything of the kind, come to think of it, much as his body loved Snape's voice, it loved his mouth doing other things even better. And given his state of habillé, or rather deshabillé, there was no mistaking the signs. Better to get on with kissing, thought Harry, and did just that, not to give the bastard an opportunity to comment on anything. The fact that Snape had not already hexed him into next week must count for something, mustn't it?
And his lips tasted so good. Who would have thought that, what with his less than perfectly-groomed exterior and his constant cauldron stirring. His tongue was sleek and strong, and very very flexible. His whole body was, Harry noticed when he found himself grinding into it. Hard as the proverbial stick as he always seemed – and some said where that stick was stuck – his body moulded itself perfectly to the slightly smaller form of Harry's. They fit together, Harry noticed with no small amount of – well, feeling.
Snape tried to get away when he felt that the closeness would betray him, as Harry knew he would with a certainty he didn't know he had. He just held him close for a moment just to show Snape that he wouldn't and needn't get away with it and then pressed his erection into the one of the other man. Who moaned very satisfyingly before he caught himself. Harry grinned. Yes, it wasn't easy, he could sympathize with that. On the other hand – Snape had nothing to complain – at least he hadn't been standing naked in front of someone else for hours, most of the time with a hard-on that insisted on staying or even inflating, no matter what was happening or not happening in the real world.
Hardness on hardness. There was no room for playing the fool here. Harry was grateful, for the first time, that his chosen object of desire was male. Well, he had always thought that he liked girls good enough, but he really didn't know anything about them. To imagine it would have been McGonagall – he shuddered.
"What?", asked Snape and the velvet voice sounded a bit irritated, as if its owner still sensed a trap after they had gotten so far. He was a prickly person, Harry thought fondly, and of course it would have been really evil of him, to now laugh at Snape who had by now quite incriminated himself. Or so one could think. This was no class room and they were all alone and Snape was temptingly hard, or at least had been until Harry had shuddered.
He looked up into the black eyes for the first time since he had initiated the kiss. "I just thought how relieved I am that you are a man", he said. Honesty had brought him here, right? The black eyes blinked. Harry couldn't recall having seen them doing that ever before. Harry felt a big fat grin on his face. He had done that? Not only made the potions monster hard, but blink on top of that? That was really something.
"Interesting", said Snape in a voice that didn't betray any emotion or his bodily state. "That answers at least one question I was harbouring." "You did?", asked Harry eagerly. "Since when? And why didn't you say anything?" Long fingers curled into his shoulder muscles in a way that very nearly hurt. "Thank you for reminding me again of why this is not a good idea, Potter." Snape tried to get away from Harry again, this time with a bit more force behind his action, but Harry was prepared by the tone of voice and wouldn't let him. He spared one thankful thought for Oliver Wood – the Quidditch captain who had insisted that the team train earlier, longer, and harder – not that Wood would have approved of the way Harry put the benefits of that training to the test.
"No you won't, Severus Snape", Harry said. He hadn't the natural authority of Snape, right, but he had learned something from Molly Weasley. The way she ordered her huge family about, all of which were way taller than her, had left a strong impression on him. Snape stilled. Right, he must know Molly from the Order. And perhaps she had been in class with him, even. Oops, not so good a thought just now. Just as bad as the thought of his head of house. Head now, that was a good thought. Harry gulped. Well, I come back to that later, he promised his thought. First I have to do some more convincing. Again.
"You won't back out of this now, S- S- Severus", Harry said. He had had his tongue in the throat of the other man already and planned on getting or having other things into him or himself – drat, that thought was becoming more confused with each addition to it – surely he could call the man by his given name? Snape's eyebrow went up, but he didn't fight. Good. As long as it lasted.
"What did you mean, when you said that answered a question?" Okay, let him spell it out. Let him see this wasn't the urge of a moment, the desperate need of a hormonal teenager - well, of course it was, but Harry was prepared to talk, too, if he must. And it seemed he did have to.
Snape blinked again. "I meant exactly what I said", he said in a bored tone. "I had thought about when exactly you would realize that I was male." Harry stared. "Erm well, now that you mention it – there was no mistaking THAT when we were quite close just a moment ago." Harry knew he blushed, but what was he supposed to do? Talking about it was more complicated than simply doing it, it seemed. And much more embarrassing.
"Manners, Potter", Snape said mildly. "It is not considered good form to point out the weaknesses of the flesh to someone your el.. – your tea... – anyone". Harry stared. Had Snape really tried three times to get a simple sentence out? Wow. Perhaps he was not the only one who found the talking part a bit – hard to do.
"Sorry sir". Okay, the 'Severus' hadn't been rejected, but Snape had called him Potter, like always, so perhaps Mr. Manners would insist on the sir? And no reason not to indulge Snape a little, considering what he really wanted him to do. Now. Or at least soon.
"To put it in words so blunt as to being comprehensible even to the feeblest mind: It hadn't come to my attention that you were gay. I laboured under the impression that you had your little flings with girls. You find me quite astonished that you seem so eager to devour me now – a male person, if we abandon the other equally forbidding features of me for a moment."
"Well, I didn't know either". And that much was true, really. Harry hadn't even thought about his affliction in terms like that. He was attracted to Snape, and that was bad enough. He couldn't spare a thought on how society would call that crush of his. "Well, I'm still not sure. If you have to put a label on it, perhaps you could say, I'm snaped. Instead of gay".
Snape stared at him for what seemed an eternity. Then his face contorted into something that was the first real laugh Harry had seen on that face. He was not sure if that was a good sign. "I see. Must have been pretty humiliating when you noticed, wasn't it?" "You have no idea", said Harry and it was heartfelt. Snape gave something that with every other person would have been a giggle and even wiped a tear back from his cheek which had escaped one black eye. Harry was horrified. The Boy Who Brought Snape to Laugh to Tears – now that was a label Witch Weekly would tag on him only with great dislike. And yet, he loved it. Even if it worked contrary to his brilliant plan of getting laid. He'd rather be The Boy Who Lived to Make Severus Snape Scream – and Get What He Wants on the Way.
Snape smirked once more. "So that state of – Snapedness - " here Snape nearly lost it again, but caught himself before he burst out laughing, "does away with every other obstacle such as: age, profession, gender, and general dislike of me as a person, doesn't it?"
"Yes", said Harry and a relieved grin crossed about his face. Snape had got it and perhaps they could get on with it now. Plus, he was a bit relieved that he wasn't gay. Not really. "And I was glad you were a man because there is no mistaking there. I went out with – a girl, and I didn't know what she wanted most of the time." Snape nodded slowly. There was a twinkle in his eye that threatened to break into a full-flown laugh any moment. It was a gruesome sight. "I see that my being a man would appease feelings of general ignorance with the task at hand. But why did you shudder?" Harry shuddered again. "McGonagall". He couldn't say more. But funny as it seemed, Snape understood. He shuddered in sympathy. "Ah, yes, I see".
They stood in silence for a while and Harry got rather cold again. This was all well and fine, but what now? The mood was slightly spoiled now. All the talking had founded a feeling of mutual understanding, as the phrase went concerning hostilities in the Muggle world, between him and Snape, but it had lead him nowhere, sex-wise. Snape seemed to sense his concern and for once, decided to indulge it. It was the night of wonders, after all.
"I really am sorry Potter", in a tone that sounded as if Snape meant it. "It would have been easy to just get on with it, but if we are to do –it – and I am in no way predicting that we will, in fact" – yes, one glare of Snape could still crush Harry's hopes quite effectively – "I want to make quite certain, that you are really sure what you get yourself in. I am not yet so – pottered – as to forget reality." "Reality?", Harry blinked, trying not to laugh at Snape's way with words, or not cry because Snape could still think. "Yes, reality, Potter, as in: teacher/student, old/young, male/male, Snape/Potter. All these things seemed to repel each other until very recently. You must give me time to adjust to your reality shift."
Trust Snape to bring it home again, to him. Harry sighed. He should never have stopped kissing the bastard, man, he meant. He could have convinced him with his body, he was sure of it, he had been so close, he knew it. He was not so sure about his proficiency with words.
Tbc
