*Grabs radio announcer gear* Hi there and welcome, my valued readers! The temperature is dropping, it's time to put on those boots, gloves, and jackets! For your reading pleasure this is the first in a line of stories meant to warm you up on those cold winter nights. Read, enjoy, review, repeat the first two.
Anyway, as I said in the summary, there are some very adult themes here. I tried to stay away from the wirty dords, but some snuck in (and it's generally dirty anyway). After you read it, let me know if you want the morning after from Harry's POV. Believe me, it's a doozy.
Severus knew he shouldn't drink. It had been the one thing he had to remind himself of since he'd become a teacher. Drinking led to impulsiveness, and that could easily lead to dead students. You see, Severus wasn't just impulsive when he was drinking, he was the very opposite of 'complete control'. All logical thought and reasoning went out the door, and when Severus woke up the next day, his memory was suffused with the thought 'why the hell not', which he always asked, but never answered, when drinking.
But, on this occasion, Severus had indulged himself in a drink. He wouldn't admit that the reason he'd been feeling bitter enough to indulge was because Potter was leaving the next day, nor was he willing to admit that the stone in his stomach was due to fantasies unfulfilled. But he did drink, so when a knock came at his office door late on the night of the Leaving Feast he was well on his way to drunk, and certainly not prepared for company. This, of course, meant that he bade them enter without a second thought.
Harry Potter walked into the dimly lit room, slamming the door closed behind him, and storming up to the desk. He looked pissed, and Severus was never happier to see him. He stood up a little unsteadily and came around the desk.
"Professor, I've decided that if I'm leaving tomorrow then I'm going to have you on!" Potter announced, his words slurred.
Severus, from the deep recesses of a drunken fog, managed a careful response. "Potter, you're drunk, and I have no desire to listen to your ramblings tonight." He really didn't, but if the boy didn't leave soon he would find himself at the mercy of what Severus thought was a much better way to spend their last night together.
Potter continued as if Severus hadn't spoken. "You listen to me, you bastard. You've humiliated me my entire school career, and I have a right to tell you just what I think of you, you two-faced, overgrown b-"
Severus felt he'd given the lad proper warning, and felt no guilt as he interrupted the diatribe with a sloppy, insistent kiss. After a moment where what he was doing registered in the thick skull of his student, Potter began to kiss back, just as insistent, and angry. Severus found himself shoved back against the nearest wall as their tongues battled fiercely, deceptively strong hands pinning his wrists to the hard stone. He slipped an eager thigh between his student's parted legs and rubbed desperately against the hardness he found there. A Quidditch toned thigh pressed against him and they began to rut insistently against one another, Severus moaning at the friction the lad offered. Finally, the hands pinning his wrists relented, and he buried his fingers into the lush black hair bruisingly as he shoved against the firm body, roughly maneuvering the smaller man back against the side of his desk. They rutted some more there before his legs began to give and he dragged Potter on top of him on the cold floor, hissing as the brat ground down against him. He bit the swollen lower lip as he turned them over so that he was on top, tearing at the younger wizard's shirt, but unable to finagle the small buttons.
Potter pulled away slightly as Severus leaned up on his hands, and whispered several spells at once. Immediately, their clothing disappeared save for their skivvy's, and they were spread out on a thin mat. Severus used the mat to gain leverage to thrust against his student shamelessly as strong thighs wrapped around his waist and Potter ground up against him. He groaned as Potter gave a shout and came without warning. Severus helped him to ride out his orgasm even as he was pushed over the edge by the feel of the thinly clothed hard-on pulsating against his. When they were both sated, Severus collapsed to the side of the warm, sweaty body, dragging his cloak from the nearby chair and wrapping it around them both even as he wrapped his thin arms around his student's thin shoulders. He placed a soft kiss on the messy head of hair, still breathing raggedly. It wasn't long before they both drifted into a peaceful unconsciousness that only strong alcohol can induce, neither one quite sober enough to wonder about the consequences when they woke.
Severus really shouldn't drink.
A/N: Don't forget to let me know if you want the morning after from Harry's POV, and if you want that to be as dirty as this. I dd two versions: dirty and romantic, so I need to know which one you, my beloved readers, would rather see. Au revoir!