Dark, silken covers shifted as long, pale limbs twisted beneath them. Severus was in the throes of a dream that culminated from the new emotions he had still not taken the time to analyze about a certain, guarded war hero. A throaty moan snuck past pale lips as a hand slithered under satin sheets to trail down his body to his hard core, which was weeping gently against his slim, toned abdomen in anticipation. With the lightest of touches, his sleeping fingers caressed his burning need gently as his subconscious dreamed of what might have been.
"Do my actions, performed under duress as they were, equate me to the Death Eaters who volunteered willingly, Mister Potter?"
He had been here before. They were sitting on his couch, Potter leaning against his chest tiredly. Potter leaned up as he had on that night that had changed everything. Just as he had before, his lips hesitantly touched Severus' mouth with naïve uncertainty. It was a kiss of faith, proof of unerring gratitude and trust. Only this time, instead of pushing the Gryffindor away to explain that that would never happen, Severus buried his fingers in the dark, untamed mess of hair and drew the younger wizard closer, deepening the kiss.
Their tongues warred as their chests clashed. Fingers pulled and tore at clothing and hair, each of them pressing closer for much needed contact. Tight, Quidditch-toned thighs pressed against him as Potter clambered into his lap, seeking friction with such fervor befitting his age. Their pelvises grazed together, and Severus was driven wild by the delicious sounds this produced from his young would-be lover. With swift, cat-like movements, the Potions Master flipped them so that his student lay beneath him, writhing in ecstasy against the cushions of his couch.
As can only happen in dreams, their clothing vanished, laying them bear against each other as they clawed in all-consuming need. Their bodies pressed and glided together ardently, fingers touched and groped, and mouths devoured flesh and muscle with a driving lust. Severus felt his soul, stained though it was, burning brightly with an engrossing urgency to consume, and be consumed by, the younger wizard beneath him. Potter's fingers feathered across his skin, and he groaned passionately as he pulled away from the kiss.
"Potter, you are a vexing little incubus," Severus growled against swollen lips.
Potter smirked beneath him, raking his nails down the length of Severus' spine. "Then perhaps I should be punished, Professor."
The devilish, young nymph slithered out of Severus' grasp and turned, leaning over the arm of the couch and waving bronzed globes invitingly. Green eyes flashed over a scarred shoulder challengingly. With a snarl of lustful hunger, Severus knelt on the cool leather of his couch and grabbed those slim hips. His sharp teeth sunk into the flesh above one round cheek, marking the skin at the small of the tan back. His mouth trailed upward as he shifted continually forward, leaving even more blackish, bruising evidence of his lustful desire across the expanse of flesh.
When he felt the tip of his weeping head meet the crevice it wept for, Severus arched up, throwing his head back with a needy moan. Even in his dream, he hesitated before consummation could be reached, questioningly gliding against the hips that pressed against him. Potter croaked out a whimpering plea.
"Take me, Professor," The younger wizard breathed. "Make me yours."
And so, the Death Eater stole away inside of the Savior of the Wizarding World. Their passions took them, and they rode together towards oblivion, their cries echoing off the dungeon walls. Fingers clawed and hips pressed together in a frenzied rhythm. Teeth bit ferociously, tearing at flesh. Even as their bodies joined and rejoined, it wasn't enough to feed Severus' need. His hands gripped bruisingly, clawing at perfectly bronzed flesh with a need to climb inside and be one with the gasping Gryffindor.
The explosive fire of climax drew closer, like a naked demon clamoring to be free of it's cage. Potter shouted his excitement into the dungeon air, pressing back with each cloying thrust. Severus slammed forward angrily, each thrust driving his student forward. Oblivion crashed upon him with a tidal wave of fire that boiled the blood in his veins.
Severus awoke with a shout as the evidence of his dream burst upon his abdomen and sleep pants. He gasped breathlessly into the still dungeon air, black eyes flashing open in the dim moonlight that filtered in through the magical window in his rooms, sparking like hard flints. Guilt stabbed at his heart viciously as he waved on the lights and banished the testimony of his dangerously straying thoughts.
The Potions Master sat up on the edge of his bed. The cold of the night air struck his naked chest like ice, cooling his heated, sweating skin as he buried his head in his hands. Guilt and shame warred in his heart, even as the memory of the dream coaxed a flickering burn of desire low in his belly.
What had he just done?
Above him, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry slept on.