AN: Smut incoming!
I know it's not for everyone, but for all those who plan to stay for the ride, you had better buckle yourselves in and I would ask that you please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times.
11. Self-Sabotage
S.
I could touch her. God how I want to touch her. I could just lift her shirt and put these greedy fingers on her skin. I could trace her curves; feel her prickle at my touch.
Severus felt his cock throb between his legs, and as he rearranged himself, he unintentionally moved her closer into his chest. It was then that she looked up and dropped her hand.
God she's beautiful. It's not fair. She's so close and yet, there are worlds and leagues, and so many years, between us. She knows - she must. You've hardly been subtle.
His heart pounded in his chest, threatening to undo him; threatening to kill him.
Could you want something so much, that your entire body just ceases to function in its absence?
He leant back in the sofa, and his breath hitched with a silent, clipped groan as she followed onto him. He tried to gauge her reaction, but her face was still and expressionless. Yet he could feel her heart, quick and restless as his own.
She knows what I want. And she stays.
It was then that she shifted her body so that she sat on her knees beside him. For a moment he thought she might kiss him. Instead, she studied his face, as though she too, searched for a reaction. Neither wanting to be the first to make a move.
She's here with you, isn't she? he thought. She is here voluntarily. She called you. Not her boyfriend. You. She wants you.
And then she took all decision from him, and he felt something clutch its fingers around his heart and dig in its claws, as she kissed him. A single kiss on the corner of his mouth. The greedy voice, the one that awoke whenever she entered a room, or he heard her laugh, came in a rush from a depraved corner of his mind. Touch her, it said.
Touch her. Touch her. Touch her. Now. Do it now.
In a foolish rush of desperation, Severus moved one hand from where it sat rigid on his knee, wrapped it into her hair and kissed her, calculating the momentum so that it was cautious but not casual. Never casual. They were long past that. Her lips were warm and sugared with tea, and her tongue...
Oh God, her tongue. She's kissing me back.
What fresh hell is this? he thought. No. Not hell. Heaven. She wants you.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and she moved into him, placing her hands on his chest, sliding her fingers underneath his buttons until his shirt was undone. He saw her eyes cross the scars, faded over the years, but still prominent; still ugly. He lifted the back of her shirt in the form of a question and when she did not stop him, he placed his hands flat to her back. He whispered a hiss as he felt the warmth of her skin beneath his lightly calloused fingers.
Still, she looked at the scars, and he wished more than anything that he had thought to use a spell to hide them from her view. But he hadn't known; hadn't anticipated any of this. She leant forward and rested her head on the inky thicket of his chest, placed her hand on his shoulder, and he felt a buzz across his skin as she kissed his scars. She started on his chest, then she kissed his shoulders and collarbone. Her mouth traced the ugly marks all the way across his neck, up to his throat and then once again she met his lips and he parted his to meet her.
And then, just as quickly, she pulled away.
:
H.
I shouldn't be here. This is unforgivable.
"I should go to bed", he said, and his words broke their self-made silence.
As he left, Hermione felt the shame of her situation, knowing that she had crossed a line. Her relationship was all but over, but she owed it to Ron - to their seven years together - to formalise it.
He doesn't want you. Severus wants you.
Her guilt came as an ache. Her longing for Severus burned hot. She stood in the centre of the room, staring at the shelves of books, her fingers to her mouth, trim to her lips, holding the memory of his kiss.
She heard him before she felt him. His footsteps into the room were as unsure as she was, but he stepped towards her anyway, bridging the gap between them. She felt his hands on her waist and she lifted her shirt as an instinctual reply.
Yes.
As she dropped the shirt to the floor, he stepped in behind her, so close that she could feel him, hard at the small of her back. She raised her hand, still not daring to turn to face him, and scraped her fingers into his hair as his kiss came at her neck.
She felt an unfamiliar shiver of anticipation rush through her core, as Severus' hand shifted round from her waist to her chest. His hand slipped into the cup of her bra, gently, as though waiting for an invitation that she had sent years ago. His touch swept across her breasts, and together at her stomach, and then, as she unfastened the buttons of her jeans, his hand settled between her legs.
God. Yes! Damn me, I don't care. I'm yours.
:
S.
Severus moved as though by instinct, and swept his hand up to her breast, as the other dropped; seeking her heat like a damn missile. He caught himself in time, and slowed, skipping past her pleasure, walking his fingers across her mound. He thought he heard the gentle pop of her parting lips. She sighed and moved further back into him, urging him closer to where she wanted his touch.
The combination of that glorious sound, simple as it was, and the motion of her body into his, sent a tremor through him and his dick twitched in response. She let out the gentlest of laughs and he felt the rise and fall of her chest build beneath his fingers.
"Yes", he murmured; his voice a muted sigh. He hoped she hadn't caught it.
Don't ruin it now, Severus. Don't say a word. Don't talk. Just act. Give her what she needs.
Her head rolled back and her hair grazed his throat. He remembered with a pang of sorrow and a stab of exhilaration how she had cared for him when that damnable snake had struck him in the very place that she now rested her head.
Her beautiful fucking head.
Severus dropped his own and freckled her hair with kisses; it was sweet with something like lavender. She pulled her hair in front of her chest and moved her hands behind her back and began to fumble with his belt; her fingers tripping over their urgency. She stood tall, and rested her head on her shoulder so that the nape of her neck was exposed to his mouth. He couldn't help himself. Not anymore. He felt an ache of sorrow in his chest that he couldn't explain.
I need more. God, even the smell of her. Does she have any idea what she does to me?
He brushed his lips across the gooseflesh of her neck and dropped his hand from her breast to her stomach. She sucked in her gut as if by impulse, and he stoked the grooves that Bellatrix had made. He hoped, where there was no hope, that the kindness of his touch could begin to undo the violence in hers. A soft wave of warmth and affection shifted through him. If only he could hold her this way for the rest of his miserable life.
No. This isn't right. He thought. This isn't how it's supposed to go. It's sex. Just sex.
Severus let out a throaty sigh.
You idiot. Did you really think that you could just walk away from this unscathed?
Hermione lifted her hands behind her and ran her nimble fingers through his stringy, long, black tresses and clutched tight. She turned her head just a fraction so that she could kiss the bristle of his chin, except she didn't kiss, she bit - gentle but hungry - and it was the signal he needed, if ever there was one, that she was wanted his touch as much as he wanted hers.
She let out a long and lovely moan as his fingers made his contact and, to his surprise, she placed her hand on top of his to show him what it was that she liked. She drew a sharp breath and gave a happy sigh on the exhale. In an instant the soft wave of his affection was a crushing tsunami that flooded him, threatening to pull him under.
What a strange and divine way it would be to go.
Severus felt the ache again in his chest like something was had taken its seat upon it, and his breath caught on the sharp edges of whatever had nestled itself in his heart. He just had to keep his head above water.
This is it, isn't it? This is what poets talk about. This is the surge behind their sonnets. It is this that drives them to madness.
:
H.
She threw her head back as his fingers found their purpose. A moan of delight escaped her lips and she fought to catch it; desperate to return it to the pit of her belly where it belonged. The sound seemed to move Severus and he began to perform small miracles on her clit. She put her hand on top of his, to guide him, so that the small miracles became sweeping revelations. Pleasure fluttered through her core and landed somewhere in her stomach. Severus was not the kind of man to give you butterflies, but perhaps Silkmoths flickered inside her.
Oh, wow.
Severus took his other hand to her hair and bound it hard in his fist so that he could kiss her neck, her throat, her chin, her cheek; her mouth. She kept her eyes firmly closed. She didn't know why but it felt as though she should. He let the fingers at her sex quiver, playing her like piano keys, before casting them up to her cheek and turning it to draw her lips closer to his. He deepened the kiss and when he pulled away, her eyes flickered open for just a second. It was long enough to take in the blur of black and silver, in stark contrast to the peach and russet she knew.
This man was something else entirely. It had never been like this before. Not with Ron, or McLaggen, nor with Viktor before them. Severus knew exactly how and what to feed the gnawing hunger, and she was starving.
He dropped the fistful of her hair and ran his coarse hand over her breasts. Her nipples puckered at his touch and he let out a breathy moan that sent another thrilling nip of need through her core and she felt it splinter through all of her nerve endings; fingertips to toes.
I can't wait anymore.
Hermione pulled again at his belt, and Severus tugged down his trousers, knowing what she wanted, what she needed, without being told. She kicked off her own and he guided her down onto the sofa without ever turning her to face him. He pushed aside her knickers, and as she opened her legs in invitation, Severus groaned behind her.
God. That sound. Make it again. Yes. Again.
Hermione guided him to her slit and he scattered beautiful kisses along the line of her back. She felt his cock at her entry and she moved her hands to help guide him, but he did not need it. His fingers clutched at her waist and she twitched as he brushed his head against her clit, to tease her. She released a moan of satisfaction as he found his pleasure, and pushed his way into her heat, and speared her until she was full. He let loose his own returning groan, long and low and sudden, that came almost as a sob.
As he wrapped his hands around her stomach, she thought she heard him whisper, "beautiful".
Yes, you are, she thought in reply. You feel so good. I never imagined this could be so…
:
S.
Incredible.
Fuck. She's incredible.
Severus moved his arm around Hermione's stomach and again she pulled in her gut.
"Beautiful-" he breathed.
It was just above a whisper, but this time she heard him.
Shut up! Do not speak, you idiot. Speak and you will break her from this fantasy.
Oh God, that's good.
Hermione moved her body back into his, so that she enveloped him. Gripping her waist, he aided her movement. When she picked up her pace, he too quickened, thrusting himself into her with deepening strokes. He ran a very thin line - he wanted desperately to wrap his arms around her possessively, turn her to face him and fuck her until she was his, but he didn't want to hurt her, or scare her, or ask too much.
You old fool, he admonished. You already ask too much.
He didn't want her to break away, as she had done with their kiss. He didn't want to have to walk away as he had before. He did not know if he could return for her again, no matter what Lucius said.
Hermione extended her body as she knelt, her hands flat against the wall. He was strong and rigid inside her still as he crouched down on her and drove hard inside. He dropped his hands to her clit as he had before, grateful for the first time that his limbs were so long and slender. His fingers reached her and she bucked into him.
Please God, let her do that again.
Hermione began to mewl fiercely below him and he felt his cheeks grow hot. She rocked back into him and then straightened her body and he ran his hands across her breasts. How he longed to see them. But to face her would break the unspoken rule. He knew it. She knew it. She arched her back and he moved in kind, cradling her body underneath him.
I can't hold out much longer. Not like this. Not with you.
He kissed the plains of her back and ran his tongue along her spine. Her rasp of satisfaction spurred him on to thrust harder.
Fuck, I can't hold it... I'll make it up to her afterwards.
Severus braced himself, curled himself down onto Hermione, clutching his bony fingers into the softness of her hips. He lost his rhythm.
Fuck no. Not yet. Oh God. Oh-oh-oh.
He pushed himself in his entirety into her beautiful hollow for one last time. The triumphant wave he was riding broke and a low, feral howl fell from his lips as he came apart inside her. But his pleasure was short-lived, and as he felt Hermione's body stiffen in his arms, he pulled out of her.
Please. Let me die now. Whatever is next I don't want it. Don't take this moment away from me.
Hermione lurched forward and grabbed her jeans, her head fixed at the window. He wondered what she had seen.
Perhaps she saw her reflection. Nothing like a good hard look in the mirror to remind you of your stupidity. What the fuck do I do now?
She'll go back to the idiot and you'll be alone, again. All because you couldn't keep your hands to yourself.
She didn't look at him as she pulled on her shirt; she couldn't hide herself inside it fast enough. eHHe stared at her, longing to read her face; to understand this reaction. Then, without even lifting her head, she stepped out of the room.
Wait. Where is she going? No, please. Please don't leave me again.
You're in trouble, old man. Oh, you're so fucked. How will you ever live without this now that you've tasted it? Nothing will be like it was before. There's no going back to how things were. This is final. This is fatal. There will be no making it up to her. You're fucked. You idiot. You're fucked. You're fucked!
Fuck off, Lucius! Oh God, what have I done?
Severus clutched his hand to his chest as he heard the front door close.
Not again. Don't leave me.
:
H.
Oh god, oh god. He knows. How the hell does he know?
Hermione pulled on her clothes and ran to the door. The little owl sat on the wall outside Severus' house with a red envelope in its beak. As she reached out her hand to take it, the bird nipped at her fingers and fluttered its wings. She snatched her hand away and studied her fingers. He had thankfully not drawn blood, but he'd left his mark all the same. Pigwidgeon puffed up his chest and screeched at her, before he buzzed his wings again and took flight. She took the howler into the house and sat on the stairs with it in her hands, not daring to open it. Knowing that ignoring it would make it worse, and not caring.
It couldn't get any worse.
:
S.
The thing that had its fingers around his heart squeezed tighter as he pulled on his trousers and stepped towards the window. He couldn't see anything except his face. Sallow and old and ugly.
What is this? Why does it hurt? My chest. Stop it. Make it stop. Come back. I'm sorry. I don't know what I've done but I'm so sorry.
Again Severus felt a pang of pain through his chest.
It's just distress - emotional distress - you are fine. You are not dying. Not today.
He told himself this when the panic would rise. And it still did from time to time. Severus pulled on his shirt without fastening it, and stepped out into the hallway. Hermione was sat on the stairs with her feet tucked under her. Her head was in her hands.
Thank god. At least she's still here.
He sagged with relief as he approached her, but when she lifted her face, he saw that she was red and sticky with tears. She hung her head again and her mess of curls fell over her face. He could not see her anymore and he did not know whether that was a small mercy or a crying shame. He tentatively sat on the step below her.
"Hermione?"
The sound seemed to rile her, and she broke into sobs that wracked her tiny body. He placed his hand on her arm but she pulled away.
Oh fuck. You fool. You bastard. What have you done to her?
"Hermione. I'm sorry."
She shot her head up and stared at him, her eyebrows were furrowed.
"What? Whatever for? You didn't do anything wrong", she said, as she handed him a red envelope. "I'm the one who's screwed everything up."
"A howler?" he asked.
"God I've been so stupid", she said. "I can't believe I let this happen."
Welp. That hurt.
Hermione traced his face, and although he desperately tried to hide the devastation in his eyes, he knew that she'd seen it.
I lied to The Dark fucking Lord for over two decades, and yet now I stand here unable to wear my heart anywhere other than my sleeve? Couldn't have hidden it up your sleeve? Decided to stop hiding how we feel now, have we? Brilliant timing, Severus. As ever.
Hermione took hold of his balled fists and cupped them with her warm hands.
"Oh God, I'm sorry", she said.
"Sorry you hurt my feelings? Or sorry you fucked me?"
Her eyebrows drew together and her entire face fell into sadness.
Shame more like.
"Severus? Don't be—"
"What? Are you going to lie to me and tell me that you don't regret being with me?"
I was wrong. This is tragedy. This is what drives the poets mad.
"No… not regret, but, I don't know. I didn't want it to be like—"
"You didn't want it?" he asked, his eyes wide now and he heard the crack in his throat betray his heartache.
"Oh God, Severus, no. That's not what I meant at all", she said, wrapping her fingers around his neck. "I'm so sorry. God, I wanted it – I wanted you."
I don't understand.
"I meant the howler. Ron. He—"
"You dare say his name?!" he flared.
He heard the spittle in his voice and felt himself stand tall. He wondered if he frightened her.
:
H.
Oh wow, was I wrong. It could be worse. It could be so much worse.
"Severus? I—"
"Go to your boyfriend, Hermione", he said, spitting the word 'boyfriend' as though it was gristle in his mouth.
She stood to full height then, and squared herself up to him, defying him, daring him to walk away again. It would take more than a tall man with a loud voice to scare her off.
And I'm not afraid of a howler either. Fuck it.
Hermione slid her finger under the lip of the envelope and opened it. Ron's voice echoed around the room. Thundering and terrifying.
"GET BACK HOME RIGHT NOW, HERMIONE. HOW DARE YOU! SNAPE?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?! SEVERUS FUCKING SNAPE?! YOU'RE WITH THAT GREASY GIT WHEN YOU SHOULD BE HOME WAITING FOR ME?! GET BACK HOME NOW!"
How does he know I'm here?
She looked at Severus and she couldn't make sense of the expression on his face, but she felt her heart break at the sight.
"I can't do this", he said, and Hermione felt the chill of his words as a physical pain.
She placed her hand on his chest but he pulled away and stalked up the stairs, but she followed right behind; leaving him with his space, but he would not walk away from her again.
"Severus. He's posturing. Our relationship is dead. That was for your benefit, not for—"
"Stop", he said. "Just stop."
"Will you let me finish a damn sentence?!"
He advanced across the landing.
"Severus Snape!" Hermione snapped. "Stop walking away from me. Talk to me! I'm right here."
He spun around on his heel.
"Fine!" he flared. "I'll talk to you. Why did you come here?"
"What? Because you invited me."
"The real reason", he said, his voice was cold.
"I told you. Someone was following me."
"Don't be an idiot", he growled, rolling his eyes as though he truly believed that she was. "Why did you call for me in the first place? Why didn't you call on your little boyfriend?"
"You know why…"
"I need to hear it."
"Because I'm weak, okay? Because I am an idiot. Because I fucking... can't... stop... thinking about you, Severus. Not for a second."
:
S.
She feels it too.
Oh God. It doesn't feel better. It hurts all the same.
He couldn't bring himself to say anything. What could he say? She threw her hands in the air.
"Look, I need to deal with this. I have to go speak to Ron. I just hope that everything isn't ruined."
No. Hermione. Don't say that. Stay here with me.
"Do you need to speak with him now?" he asked.
"It's the right thing to do, isn't it? I owe him a conversation", she said. "Whatever has happened, he's still my friend and I love him."
He felt a stab through his heart with a thunderous pain like a thousand crucios. He would take a thousand crucios over this any day. He'd be grateful to each one for being less traumatising than having your heart stomped on, in the afterglow of sex when you still have a fucking semi perked up under your trousers.
I'm going to be sick.
'I love him'. 'I love him'. 'I love him'.
Lily.
'I'm sorry, Sev, but I love him.'
His eyes pricked with tears and he growled as he wiped them with the back of his hand. She stepped towards him and placed her hand on his cheek. It was warm and beautiful and it hurt.
God it all fucking hurts.
Oh no. Oh shit. No.
"Talk to me", she said. "Please?"
He cleared his throat.
"It's fine. Go to Weasley, Hermione", his voice came in its rightful tone. "I'll be seeing you, okay?"
Hermione nodded, and followed him down the stairs to the living room where she grabbed her things, and made for the fireplace. She drew out, quickly, made towards him and kissed him on his cheek, her hands in his hair. And then her kiss came at the corner of his mouth and then his lips. He rested his forehead on hers and took in the smell of her hair – lavender. He'd never forget it.
Oh, you really are a fool, Severus.
He closed his eyes and let the feeling of her lips on his linger, even after he felt her move away and heard her step towards the fireplace.
You're in love with her.
"I'll see you soon", she said. "I'll send you an owl or something? We'll speak soon?"
No. We won't.
She waited a moment for his reply, but he did not give it.
"Severus? Is everything okay?"
He shrugged with one shoulder.
"Don't you worry about me."
Her face contorted into one of confusion, or concern.
Don't look at me like that. Just leave me.
"Do you want me to stay?"
Yes.
"No, I'm fine."
He turned his back on her. Turned his back on her just as Lily had turned her back on him. Just as with Narcissa. Just as he had with every woman who had ever gotten close to him; every woman who had ever shown him true affection. Severus Snape did not love. He couldn't love. Not anymore. Lucius was right. It was a weakness. He would never be weak again. But if she stayed? If she walked out of the fireplace and into his arms, he might be so tempted to surrender to weakness and make himself at home.
No. Don't leave. I changed my mind. Please don't leave.
He stood just outside the doorway; his heart in his throat. He heard her say "home", and with a blaze of fire, he knew that she was gone.
"Fuck!" he roared, throwing his fist into the door.
Fuck!
Why does everyone I love leave me?