Chapter Three
"Snape! Snape, let me in!"
Harry had been standing outside the man's personal quarters, brutalizing the door with his fist – or was it the other way around – for almost fifteen minutes now, to no avail. The stubborn git refused to let him in, or even speak to him for that matter. Harry knew he was in there though, standing only a few feet from the other side of the door, and from the agitated movements of the little dot labeled 'Severus Snape' on the Marauders' map in his other hand, he could tell the man was pacing.
"Snape! Open the door, damnit!" Harry barely refrained from aiming a kick at the door. If he was trembling and mindless from the man's sensual touches earlier, then he was positively desperate now, desperate to know the truth.
"Come on, Snape. Please?" he pleaded, "I just... I just need to talk to you. Five minutes, OK? Just five minutes and then I'll leave you alone if you want, I swear! Just please let me in."
Silence.
Harry leaned forward, resting his forehead on the worn wood of the sealed door and closing his eyes in resignation, the map falling from his trembling fingers. He swallowed, the rawness of his throat matching his throbbing fist, courtesy of his ceaseless pleading and knocking.
"Snape," he whispered.
Still nothing.
With a sigh that seemed to come from the bottom of his shoes, Harry reached down to snatch up the map, smoothing out the crumpled edges from where he had inadvertently stepped on it before pulling out his wand.
"Mischief–" he stopped midway when he noticed Snape's dot had stopped moving. It was motionless now... and positioned just beyond the door.
"Snape?" Harry tried again. "Five minutes. Please."
A snarl-like growl reached Harry's ears. It was followed by the soft snick of the door's latch being magically opened.
Sheer knee-weakening relief washing over him, Harry pushed the door open and walked into the room, his eyes immediately searching for Snape. He found him within seconds, sitting on a dark leather sofa and staring fixedly at a fire crackling and hissing within the large stone hearth in the center of the room, forearms resting on spread thighs.
Snape had shed his outer robe since their confrontation in the Charms corridor and was clad only in those snug black trousers and black silk shirt. His ebony hair now hung down on either side of his thin face, hair tie foregone. As Harry approached him, those dark eyes remained focused on the flickering flames but Snape's body took on defensive stance, leaning back to allow long arms to fold across his chest, jaw snapping rigid and thin lips pursed.
Undeterred, but nervous as hell, Harry made his way over to the sofa on trembling legs and sat down almost gingerly beside its taciturn occupant. He turned to face Snape and hoped that in doing so, those ebony eyes would veer in his direction. When they did not, Harry sighed in exasperation and ran a hand through his messy hair, his anxiety growing with each silent, tension filled second.
"One minute gone, Potter," Snape intoned. "You have only four left. Better vent your grievance soon before your time is up."
"Vent my–!? Oh, for Merlin's sake! Fine! Fine, I'll vent my bloody grievance!" Harry exclaimed, frustration bubbling inside him again. "My grievance is with a certain pretend lover of mine who seems to have forgotten his own rules!"
Snape snapped his head around, eyes going wide with confusion as they locked with Harry's.
"What? I did no such–"
"Rule number two," Harry supplied, deliberately cutting off the man's attempt at denial before it could go any farther, "the rule about no tongue. You broke it and I want to know why."
For a second, Harry could have sworn he saw a fleeting glimpse of that same softened, open expression on Snape's features. But it passed just as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the man's typical harsh mien, anger blazing within slitted eyes.
"What does it matter that I used every asset at my disposal to ward off your stalker? Our display was believable enough to work. That is all you should concern yourself with. And you have some nerve confronting me about breaking one of the rules, Potter, considering I was not the only player in this little fabricated tryst to do so."
"But you were the one who came up with the rules in the first place!" Harry growled, that bubbling frustration reaching a dangerous level. "It makes no fucking sense that you would decide to break one of them on a mere whim after insisting that they be followed! I just don't understand why... Wait. What did you just say?"
"I said," Snape hissed, leaning closer to Harry, an almost vindictive smirk curving his lips, "that I was not the only one to break one of the rules."
Harry stared at him, completely nonplussed. He opened his mouth to argue and closed it again, having not a single idea of what to even say. At length, he seemed to find his words – stammered and broken though they were.
"But I–I never... Snape! I never used my tongue! I didn't even kiss you or... or use my mouth or anything! And I know I touched your arms and y-your hips and your... but... but I... I never held your hand! And I–"
"Rule number three, Mr. Potter." Snape's admonishment was belied by his smirk at Harry's flustered state. "No mind play."
"What?! I didn't–"
"You did."
"What are you talking about? When did I–?"
Snape inched closer to Harry on the sofa, his eyes disengaging from Harry's bemused ones to gaze at his mouth for the briefest of moments. Then they returned to stare unflinchingly into confused green orbs, their usual coldness fading slightly as a fiery heat danced like feral flames in their black depths.
"When you begged me to ravish you," he whispered, pausing to lick his lips, his gaze once again drifting down to Harry's mouth. "Don't tell me you have forgotten your desperate plea for me to... just do it."
No. When did I – oh!
Harry remembered now. He had begged. Snape had barely touched his neck with those warm, soft lips – lips that were just hovering there, teasing him, the man's breath ghosting over Harry's skin, driving him mad with desire. In that moment, all Harry could think about was how desperately he wanted the man to kiss him, to attack him with that hot mouth and those sensual lips and...
"But I never said it out loud," Harry muttered under his breath, flushed red and still confused. "I know I didn't. I only thought it."
"Oh, you said it alright," Snape countered in an infuriating drawl, "just after you thrust yourself into my mind and made yourself at home there. And there I was, believing you ignorant of the pleasures of mind play."
Harry gaped at him.
"But, Snape, I didn't know, I swear it! I didn't even make eye contact with you then!"
Black eyes narrowed slightly but remained fixed on Harry's, their gaze questioning.
"I wasn't even aware that it was possible to enter someone's mind without eye contact!" Harry protested, desperate to get Snape to believe him.
"You really had no idea?" Snape asked after a moment, voice softer now. There were traces of what looked like tenderness and compassion glinting within the shadowy depths of his eyes, a fragile glimmer of hope that seemed to linger just beyond the cracks forming in his facade of causticity.
Harry shook his head in reply, feeling that familiar tightness in his throat at seeing the return of that rare openness on the man's usually closed off expression. He edged closer to Snape and then, with sudden daring, placed a hand on his shoulder, letting his fingertips thread through the ends of that soft black hair, his thumb tracing along the rigid contour of the man's collarbone beneath its cover of smooth silk.
"So how did I do it then?" Harry asked, his own voice mirroring Snape's whispered tones as he continued to stare into those cavernous depths that seemed to draw him in without effort. "Would you... would you show me? Please?"
Snape gave no response, nor did he make a move to comply with Harry's request. He remained as still as statue, body rigid and tense, but with that same warmth radiating from his penetrative gaze.
After a long moment, the Adam's apple in the long, pale throat jerked upward and a tremulous exhalation issued from those parted lips.
Still ensnared within that beguiling dark gaze, Harry started when he felt the man's fingers encircle his wrist, gripping lightly to pull it up to that long neck, palm flush against the faint scars from Nagini's attack. He slid his other hand up to mirror the position so that both of his hands were now cupping Snape's neck, his thumbs resting along the man's sharp jawline, fingers sliding in between strands of soft, jet-black hair at the back of his neck. The new position brought their bodies closer still, Harry's head now pitched slightly upwards. A soft shudder went through him at the increased intimacy, his heartbeat speeding up and his breathing pulsing and uneven in his anticipation.
"Close your eyes," Snape whispered.
Harry obeyed and then waited, breath captive in his chest and heart in his throat.
"Now... come closer."
A shudder of stomach twisting excitement rushed through Harry as he followed Snape's directive, inching closer to him – close enough to feel Snape's body heat against his skin and warm breath flitting over his lips. The added sensations were almost too much for Harry, especially with his eyes still obediently closed. He started trembling, wishing Snape would do something apart from breathing seductively and giving out commands. He ached for his touch... longed to feel those lips on his skin again... those long fingers twisted in his hair, pulling his neck back... exposing more skin for the man to kiss and lick and bite and–
"Oh..." Snape breathed out against his lips, the single word weak, shaky, thick with arousal. "Fuck."
It was the 'fuck' that did it. Harry had never heard the man use that word before and the sheer shock of hearing him utter it now, with such blatant desire in his voice, nearly had him undone. His eyes snapped open at once and he stared, entranced, at the intoxicating sight in front of him.
Snape was trembling. His eyes were closed and he was breathing very fast, lower lip captured beneath crooked teeth and cheeks flushed with color. After a long moment, Snape released his lip and opened his eyes, pinning Harry with a black sultry gaze that caused heat to pool in his gut, his muscles tightening, pleasure pulsing and coiling deep inside him.
"My turn," Snape whispered huskily and before Harry even had time to question what he meant, the man's hands were on him. One was buried in his hair and the other was sliding around his lower back, drawing him closer so that their bodies were now a hair's breadth apart. He pressed warm lips to the shell of Harry's ear as he held him in that possessive grip, his breath hot against Harry's skin as he spoke again.
"So you ache for my touch? And you long to feel my lips pressed against your skin?"
For a second, Harry stiffened in embarrassment. How the hell had Snape known that?
Then the realization of what must have just occurred became clear to him. Despite the fact that he had not given voice to his desires, they had been heard. Snape must have been inside his mind!
"You... you heard all that?" Harry questioned, nervousness and driving excitement surging through him now. "How did you enter my mind? How did you–?"
Snape chuckled against his ear, warm puffs of breath dancing along his skin and making him shiver.
"No, Harry. I was not inside your mind. You were inside mine, just as you were during our little display earlier tonight. But as I said before, it is now my turn. Turnabout is fair play after all."
Harry had more questions. A lot more, all of them tumbling around in his mind... like how the hell had he fallen into Snape's mind unintentionally... not once, but twice? And how exactly was Snape planning to do the same to him since, once again, they were not making eye contact?
He was also burning with curiosity about this entire encounter they were sharing. Did this renewed intimacy mean Snape was now willing to admit that they shared more in that corridor than just elaborate fabrication? Was Snape now open to exploring new territory with him? Would he... would he let Harry into that guarded heart of his?
Despite the myriad of questions swirling around his encumbered brain, each one begging for an answer, Harry was soon struck incapable of asking anything as an explosion of intense emotion and sensation plowed through him. His breath hitched, his fingertips digging into the skin at the back of Snape's neck for purchase as wave after wave of emotional pain, fear, regret and guilt barreled through him, engulfing him in a sea of unrest and discontent. He heard himself utter a small, stuttered cry from the uneasy panic building inside him.
Then quite suddenly, that panic faded and what felt like a warm embrace surrounded him, love and want and desire and hope melding into a single entity that held him close as if terrified to let him go. And as the entity clung to him, making him feel more wanted and safe and loved than he had ever felt, a mere echo of voice whirred inside his mind like scattered wind, like the susurrant murmur of a lover's breath, like the ghosted shadow of a desperate dream.
"Harry... I need you. God, I need you so much. Show me that you need me, too. Show me. Please, Harry. I cannot do this unless I know you're certain of what you want. I cannot risk losing my last chance... my last chance to know love."
Harry's heart clenched as he realized he was hearing Snape's deepest fears and desires resonating like distant echos of mnemonic yearning inside his own mind, knowing without asking that the man's heart was now laid bare before him, revealed and open, vulnerable. He exhaled a shaky breath, feeling the tendrils of Snape's love and desire winding more tightly around him, holding him with anticipation drawn taut, fear and uncertainty woven into their hopeful embrace just as another wisp of voice flitted across his consciousness.
"Show me... please, Harry."
"I will," Harry whispered, heartbeat thundering at a frantic pace. He turned in toward Snape's... Severus'... warmth, sliding his arms around that pale, slender neck and pulling him closer. Then he pressed his lips to the man's cheek, placing a soft kiss there – one chaste feather light brush of lips that soon turned into much more as Harry swept his lips down to caress another pair, warm and soft and already parted with shallow, erratic breaths escaping them.
A faint groan of desperate need met Harry's ears and for the life of him, he had no idea if it had come from his own throat, Severus,' or if it only existed as a thread of vocalized emotion inside his own mind. The sound of it however, shattered the last of his anxiety, that final vestige of doubt and reservation lingering within him. He lunged forward, crushing their lips together and sliding his tongue into that wanting mouth.
The kiss was deep and desperate, filled with a desire so intense, so raw and pure, Harry's whole body shook with the force of it. More heat pooled in his belly, twisting and coiling with growing arousal, his muscles clenching with mounting pleasure.
"Yes, Harry. Yes... show me more... show me what you want..."
Harry gasped, feeling a sudden burst of pleasure tear through him at those reverberating thoughts – pleasure that was not only his own, but Severus' as well. Euphoric sensations, pleasure like he had never before experienced, pulsed and thrummed just below his skin. It grew hot and restless as it blazed like feral energy through his arms and legs and down his spine where it settled in his abdomen and lower, his half-hard arousal now fully erect and pressing painfully against his trousers.
Mindless with need, desire pumping through him like the very blood surging through his veins, Harry withdrew from Severus' mouth and began to ravage the man's jaw and neck, licking and sucking and biting the soft, scarred skin with fervor. A distant part of his mind realized he had pushed Severus down on the sofa and was now lying on top of him with their clothed erections pressed together; the other, larger part of his mind just reveled in the jolt of sensation, much more intense than the last, rocketing through him like an explosion.
"Oh my God... S-Sev... Severus!" Harry cried, burrowing his face in that warm neck as tremors of bliss swept through him, sucking the very air out of his heaving lungs. The waves were slow to recede and as his breathing slowed down, embarrassment cut through the haze of need dominating his thoughts and he realized with astonishment just how close he had come to having an actual orgasm.
Warm hands pulled him from his chagrin, cupping Harry's face and turning him to meet Severus'. The sheer amount of openness Harry glimpsed within those dark depths had him breathless once again, his heart aching with shared emotion.
"This is truly what you want, Harry?" Severus whispered. "I do not open my heart... or my bedroom... on a whim. I need to know for certain–"
"I'm certain," Harry interrupted him yet again. "I want you, Severus. All of you. Including your heart."
Despite his emphatic declaration, something like lingering doubt shone through those ebony orbs. Harry wanted nothing more than to dispel it, to banish it and prevent it from ever returning. With a sudden burst of inspiration borne from sheer need, he reached up with one hand and grasped Severus' hand, pulling it down until it rested upon the man's chest. Then he slid his own hand beneath it so that their palms were touching before curling his fingers around and in between Severus', interlacing them, joining them.
Severus' breath hitched as his eyes darted down to the sight of their hands moulded together like those of lovers, locked in embrace and united as one. When his gaze lifted once more, Harry was startled to see wetness at the corners of his eyes, black orbs now shining with undisguised emotion.
"Another rule broken," Harry whispered, before pressing his lips to Severus' in a slow, deliberate kiss. He poured everything into it – his heart, his every want and dream, every desire and fantasy, every yearning for love and understanding that had been denied him for so long.
When that kiss finally ended, Harry opened his eyes and was surprised once more to see an altogether different expression on Severus' thin face. Those ebony eyes were darker now, deep and penetrative and blazing with fiery heat and hunger, their owner's arousal obvious in their sultry gaze.
Harry's throat gave a hard swallow in nervous anticipation, new excitement flooding him. If the look in Severus' eyes was any indication, their bout of sensual rule-breaking had only just begun.
Chapter End - TBC
A/N: Three out of four chapters done – yay! Look for the next and final chapter of Breaking the Rules to be posted sometime in the next two weeks. Stay tuned for the exciting finish! ;)
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