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Harry couldn’t wait until this was over. Why it had to be him, he didn’t know. Why Snape even needed someone to perform in front of his class, he didn’t know. Why Robards chose him, he would likely never know.
What he did know was that he was on his way to Snape’s Defence Against the Dark Arts class with seventh years for some sort of demonstration. He swore under his breath and vowed that if Snape tried to use him as a guinea pig, he would make him sing soprano.
He was no longer the gangly Boy Who Lived. He had strength, he had his own reputation, but more importantly, he had muscles. He would make sure Snape wouldn’t even want to try anything funny. His former professor wasn’t the only one who could command presence now, not anymore.
He arrived at the Entrance Hall and made his way to the office that was reserved for the Defence masters. No matter how wired he was about all of this, he still knocked sharply on the door.
“Enter.”
He walked in, still with quite enough time to go over anything Snape would ask of him, and try to change his mind in case he decided to be unreasonable about anything. He approached the desk behind which Snape was sitting and marking something. Harry wasn’t apparently worth even a glance.
“It’s nice to see that you have learnt punctuality, Mr Potter.”
Harry huffed as he was still being ignored, and perched his bum on the student’s desk directly in front of Snape’s, content with just watching the man. Considering he had nothing better to do…
Snape still looked the same. The ten years they hadn't seen each other didn’t do anything to his face – Harry would never have guessed he was nearing fifty. But then again, it was just his Muggle mind still acting up. Wizards lived twice as long.
On second thought, Harry thought he could see a change. Time had apparently been kind to the man. Peering closer, he realised that Snape’s stress lines were gone, his face was smoother, more relaxed than Harry had ever seen. Perhaps Snape genuinely enjoyed teaching and the stress was due to being caught at the very heart of the war. Harry huffed at the misconceptions he harboured towards the man.
After what felt like forever, but was likely only a few minutes, Snape put his quill down and stood up. Only then did he finally acknowledge Harry with his gaze. The smirk he was sporting disappeared as soon as their eyes met though, as he let out a harsh breath and swayed on his feet. He managed to catch himself against his desk, barely staying upright. When he let out a little whimper, Harry was immediately next to him, gripping him by his arm. To his immense surprise, Snape seemed to fare even more poorly when he did, his knees folding beneath him, so Harry eased him into his chair quite effortlessly.
“Are you alright?” asked Harry in concern. This wasn’t like Snape. Was he suffering from anything still related to the war?
Snape leaned away from him, slowly, as if it was done against his will and he refused to meet Harry’s eyes.
“Yes, just an unexpected dizzy spell. It will not happen again.”
Somehow Harry doubted that. “If you’re not feeling well, we can postpone this demonstration. I can come back again some other time–”
“No!” shouted Snape, then flinched, getting a grip on himself. “No. This will pass,” he pushed that last word through his gritted teeth as if he was trying to convince himself more than Harry.
“Stubborn git,” said Harry fondly, smiling softly. Suddenly, something seemed different between them. Harry felt it keenly, but he attributed it to the fact that he was no longer the man’s student, that he was Snape’s equal. What else could it be after all? “So what do you need me for?”
Snape inhaled sharply as if he was in pain, but if he refused to confide in Harry, then Harry wouldn’t push. “The class is struggling with their Patronus Charms,” began Snape, when he motioned for Harry to sit down. Harry pretended he didn’t see the tremor in his hand. “Considering your prowess in teaching students two years below, not to mention Longbottom, I was convinced to try a different approach.”
Harry raised his eyebrows. “I have to say I’m impressed. Putting your ego aside to ask for help, especially my help, couldn’t have been easy. I’m actually proud of you.”
Snape closed his eyes as if in pain again, his hand gripped his wand more tightly and Harry frowned when he realised it was to hide the tremor still in it.
“Snape, are you sure you’re alright? I didn't want to push before but you seem to be struggling with something.”
“I said it would pass,” he snapped. “Just don’t talk to me, don’t engage me in any conversation, and leave as soon as the lesson is over. That will help me.”
It hurt. Apparently, any notion that Harry might have about them reconciling went flying out the window. “It’s almost reassuring to see that you’re a bastard no matter the circumstances.” He got up from the desk and turned to leave. “I’ll wait in the classroom and try to make your life less miserable.” He barely refrained from slamming the door shut on his way out.
Despite his irritation, Harry began pacing in the classroom trying to understand why the students would have a problem with the spell. It was ten years after the war, they would have been seven or eight at that time. Of course it was entirely possible that some of the things that happened dragged on for years, especially if they had someone in the family who was murdered or who suffered: that was not something that disappeared with the wave of a wand. If Harry wanted to teach them, he needed to show them how to identify their happy memory. He was the first one to know that the strongest memories didn’t necessarily equal the happiest memories for the Patronus to fully form.
When the students began arriving, some were shocked at seeing him while some openly checked him out and Harry tried not to let his dislike of their attention show on his face. He was used to having that effect on people. Most of them couldn’t quite shake the picture of his scrawny teenage self no matter how many times he had appeared in The Prophet since Voldemort’s defeat.
He expected to be asked for autographs or fawned over, but it appeared that the students’ curiosity about his being there was bigger than his fame and they obediently sat behind their desks, waiting for him to speak. Harry wanted to wait for Snape but, as soon as his mind focused on him, he could sense his presence in the corner of the classroom, disillusioned. Either he was there to piss Harry off and wait for a mistake, or he decided to remain unobtrusive in hopes that the students might open up to Harry.
He glanced into the corner he sensed Snape from but as no movement or acknowledgement was made, Harry figured it must have been the latter and began his impromptu lesson. Leave it up to Snape to just throw him into the water to swim without telling him how.
“Hello everyone! Before I start, I just want to say that Professor Snape is quite alright and I am not his permanent replacement.” He grinned as he said it because he saw some of the hopeful expressions. When he heard groans of disappointment, he had to admit it was quite funny. “Now, I have been told that you guys seem to be struggling with the Patronus Charm.”
The atmosphere in the room changed quite rapidly. From the playful expectation, he could feel cold seeping into his bones.
“Okay, this is very interesting. You don’t seem to be too eager to learn the spell. Would anyone mind explaining to me why?”
“The spell is used against the Dementors,” said one girl in the back timidly. “They attack you before you even get the chance to think about anything happy. And how are we supposed to think about something happy when they take it away as soon as it forms?”
Harry nodded in a pleasant surprise. “That’s actually a very good question. Would anyone want to take a shot at trying to explain this before I do?”
When no one raised their hands, Harry sat on Snape’s desk, ignoring how possessive that seemed to him, and tried to put words to his thoughts. “The Dementors do feed on your happiness, yes, leaving you with despair and hopelessness. That’s why the memory you pick to fight them needs to be something they wouldn’t touch immediately.”
He began swinging his legs, trying not to tense up at how open he planned on being with these children. “When I first met a Dementor, I fainted.” He heard surprised gasps and smiled. “The cold that came with their presence made me feel as if I would never be happy again. I couldn’t let that stop me. They were stationed all around Hogwarts at that time and I couldn’t allow myself to just faint at inconvenient times. I asked for help. My teacher back then told me to think of a happy memory. But as soon as the Dementor was unleashed, the memory faded quickly, leaving me with despair. I tried happy memory after happy memory, all with the same results. I was frustrated.”
In that moment, he realised that’s what they were. Nothing worked for them and he wasn’t sure Snape could ever open up to them about his own memory.
“What memory should we use then?” asked a boy in the first row.
“Something strong. Something no one could take away from you. Something that keeps you going, that keeps you alive. The strongest memories are not usually strictly happy. They’re something you experienced, something that made your lives all the brighter for them, something… something you’re happy about having experienced.”
He was watching them all as they were trying to find the perfect memory.
“Can I try?” a girl to his left stood up and Harry saw the defiance in her chin, the determination.
He jumped off the desk. “Definitely, go ahead.”
She took a deep breath and shouted, “Expecto Patronum!”
Her determination kept the spell going, the white smoke strong but something was missing. He raised his hand and she stopped, the whiteness disappearing in a mist.
“Wonderful try. Really, great first attempt. I can see that you’re a very strong person, stubborn a little, maybe?” He smiled at her, hoping to calm her down, her posture was too tense.
He approached her from behind. “Close your eyes.” She did and he heard some people chuckle but ignored them. “Relax. Whatever memory you have could be strong enough, but we’ll see. In order for you to conjure a successful Patronus, it’s not just the will that makes it happen. It’s the feelings the memory evokes in you.” His voice was gentle, low, calming as Ron kept saying to him. “Let it permeate your body, let it take a permanent residency inside you, let it own you. When you do that, cast the spell again.”
She took a couple of deep breaths, her stance relaxing marginally. Harry walked over back to the desk and watched her aim her wand. “Expecto Patronum!”
A bear jumped out of the wand and began running around the room. Harry noticed the girl looking at it lovingly, wiping a tear from her face from the lingering memory. The bear, having nothing to guard against and no other purpose to serve, jumped one last time before disappearing up in a smoke.
“Brilliant work!”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, smiling happily as she sat back behind her desk. After that display, many people stood and Harry moved the desks to the side, leaving them with a space to practise on. He corrected some people on their stance, noticed some people could do better with a different memory, and went over to them to help them. Towards the end of the lesson, a third of the entire class was able to conjure a fully formed Patronus.
“Great job, everyone. Those who know how it’s done, make sure you help your fellow classmates!”
He grinned as the door closed after the last student. This was surprisingly fun and rewarding, not that being an Auror was boring. But lately, more often than not, he felt the strain of the job on his body and his mind. Trying to get inside the head of someone who was hiding something was getting more difficult and easier at the same time. He was just so tired.
“Considering a change of career?”
Harry startled, completely forgetting about Snape. “Even if I was, you clearly voiced your opinion of me. I do not stay where I am not welcome.” He turned to leave, his duty was done.
“Potter–”
He turned to Snape. They were looking at each other before Snape looked away but not before Harry saw the way his eyes swept over him.
“Thank you for helping them.” Snape became business-like again but Harry knew now. He saw that expression, all too familiar, on many people he encountered, who tried to chat him up and he was always, without fault, disgusted by their desire.
Not now though. If anything, he felt a corresponding feeling rearing its head somewhere inside him. Deciding to go all in because he had nothing to lose, he crossed the distance to Snape and used everything he had in his arsenal to show the man he wouldn’t mind if he gave it a go.
“You’re more than welcome,” he said, encroaching on Snape’s personal space, trying to appear bigger and overwhelming. He knew he was successful when Snape took an involuntary step back, his breathing more pronounced.
“What do you want?” Snape tried to growl but it ended up sounding breathless. His eyes darted all over Harry’s chest, lips, shoulders, everywhere in his line of vision and Harry felt his cock twitch at what he reduced Snape to.
“How about you, for instance?” asked Harry, trailing his finger down the man’s arm.
Snape jerked away from the touch, his eyes snapping to Harry’s face, round as saucers. Did Harry detect fear in them? “What?”
Harry immediately drew back, stepping away, horrified. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I must have misread your signals. Or maybe I just saw what I wanted to – anyway!” He rushed to add, “I really do apologise, I will leave now and never bother you again.”
He turned on his heel and headed for the door as fast as he could.
“I–” started Snape and Harry instantly spun around, looking at the man who looked like he didn’t mean to talk at all.
“Yes?” prompted Harry. He couldn't help it; he was feeling desperate for some reason. Snape was quiet though, and Harry realised his hope was getting squashed down once again. “It’s okay,” he said, smiling sadly. “Take care of yourself.”
Turning once again, he grabbed the handle–
“You can’t expect me to believe that–”
Harry turned around again and hummed. “Can’t expect to believe what?”
“Nothing, just go already!”
“I’m trying to, but you keep stopping me.”
Snape looked indignant, his hands balled into fists. “Go,” he pleaded.
“What if I don’t?” asked Harry but didn’t move from his position. If Snape was desperate enough to not be able to control himself, letting Harry get a glimpse at his inner turmoil, perhaps he needed to proceed differently. “What if I stayed? What if I asked where your chambers were? Would you take me there?”
Snape raised his chin and Harry saw it as a sign of him fighting the desire within himself. It was impressive, but that only thrilled Harry more, pushing him to continue.
“If I undressed you there, would you allow me to get on my knees for you?” asked Harry, licking his lips involuntarily as his fantasies took over. “I’d take you into my mouth–” Snape whimpered and Harry knew he was on the right track. “I just don’t understand your fear.”
Snape visibly flinched, looking away as if it caused him pain to look at Harry. He watched the man trying to put himself under control and Harry hated that he felt he had to do that around him.
“Mockery, Mr Potter.”
Harry was confused. “Why would I mock you?”
Snape sighed as something deflated inside him. “Why, indeed. Just leave.”
Harry shook his head. “No, I’m genuinely curious why you’re pushing me away when you clearly want me to stay. You’re interested, I’m interested, which is, by the way, not something that happens often. Listen,” he continued when Snape didn’t appear to be forthcoming, “even if you screamed your lungs out during sex, or were quiet as a mouse, had a small cock, hair everywhere, no hair, I don’t know, I wouldn’t care because it would be you. And if anyone had a problem before, well, that’s on them and they’re jerks.”
“I refuse to be subjected to this.” And yet, there was something–
“Is that it?” asked Harry, thinking that he may have gotten to the crux of the matter. “You’ve never allowed anyone to get too close to you?”
Snape’s silence could as well have been a shouted affirmation because he straightened to his full height. While it was intimidating when he was a student, now it just made him want to wrap Snape in his arms and make sure he was alright.
He licked his lips. “You know, I think it’s hot.” Snape snorted and Harry continued, wanting, no, needing to change his mind. “I’d be the first one to bring you pleasure, to arouse you, to hear what you sound like when you come, to see you when you come. I’m sure you’re dying to know what it’s like too, everyone is, even if they’re not into it.” He took a step forward before he checked in again with his brain and stopped. “Give me one night. Let me show you how good it can be.”
He was aroused now. He prayed that Snape would say yes, that he would soon have the man beneath his body, shuddering in desire.
“If I acquiesce,” began Snape slowly, and Harry still wasn't sure he had won him over. “I need you to swear that you will stop at any point I tell you to stop.”
Harry frowned. “I will not do anything without your explicit consent. I’m not into that shit. I want you screaming in pleasure, not in pain.”
“I am not as… sculpted as you are.”
Harry couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly at the irony of that phrase. “Sculpted.” He waved his wand and locked the door, applying privacy spells as well before he took off his robes and shirt, standing naked from the waist up before his former teacher. He walked closer to him and was gratified that Snape couldn’t take his eyes away from him, no matter how much he tried.
“Just look at me. Properly look.”
He saw the moment Snape realised what he meant for his eyes widened and his hand extended forward before he registered what he was doing and jerked it back.
“It’s okay, you can touch them.”
Harry’s body was littered with scars; some tiny to be almost invisible, some larger, marring his chest and back.
“Why is this shaped so strangely?” asked Snape as he touched the place where the Slytherin’s Locket burned his skin.
“It was a pendant and coincidentally also a Horcrux.”
“This one?” Snape’s finger trailed down his arm along a more circular scar.
“A Basilisk bit me there.”
Snape straightened. Harry found it extremely adorable that he was shorter.
“You’re still alive.”
“So are you.”
Snape looked away for a second. When his gaze landed back on Harry’s, he saw the vulnerability there.
“I am not fragile, nor do I appreciate being treated as such. However–”
Harry nodded and leaned forward to nuzzle against his cheek, close to his ear to whisper, “I can be tender while I fuck you hard.”
Snape moaned, the sound shooting straight to Harry’s cock. This was such a slow dance, such a sensual dance, and while Harry desperately wanted it to proceed further, he enjoyed taking Snape apart. He was made to take the afternoon off, so he had time. He was about to suggest they move things to Snape’s bedroom, when the man stopped him.
“Come on Saturday. If you’re still interested, come after dinner.”
Harry wanted to argue. Of course, he would still be interested. There wasn’t anything in the whole world that would stop him from coming to Snape to have sex with him; to take his virginity. He shuddered.
“Eat lightly,” said Harry in reply, the words more of a promise than anything else he could have said.
He got dressed again and turned to the man one last time. “I hope you won’t be the one changing your mind.”
Snape didn't react but Harry still felt something he hadn't felt in a while: hope.
Harry tried to eat something on Saturday and was partially successful with some tomato soup. His nerves were getting to him, making him spend more time in the bathroom now than in the last couple of months combined. It was just a one-night stand, he told himself, nothing more.
Except he wasn’t sure that was what he wanted.
Not to mention his partner was his former teacher, twenty years his senior, and a virgin. There was a lot of pressure on him to do right by him. He wanted Snape to come apart under him, or above him; he wanted to feel him so keenly… Harry was practically vibrating from anticipation and therefore glad wizards had charms for shaving as he knew he would have cut himself many times now.
Snape seemed to have been taken by his body, so Harry planned on using that to his advantage. He got dressed in a white T-shirt that hugged his torso so tightly his muscles were still visible underneath, and blue jeans that hugged his arse and showed off his bulge. Snape had been hesitant so he had to tempt the man and he knew damn well that Snape could be tempted.
He Apparated to Hogwarts with his mind in a seduction mode. He always felt sexy when he put in the effort and this was no exception. He passed two girls in the Entrance Hall and one of them actually swooned at the sight of him. He winked at the other and they both fell into giggles and soft moans.
Yes, he was game.
He descended the stairs to the Dungeons and walked to the entrance to Snape’s chambers. The man had sent him an owl in the morning to inform him about where their “meeting” would take place, which Harry took as consent; his spirit immediately lifted. He rapped sharply on the door and waited.
When the door opened, it revealed Snape in only a white crisp shirt and black pleated trousers that hung loosely on him. Harry loved it when his partners were delicate but strong. Apparently, he was Snape’s wet dream come true as well because the man’s eyes were on his body as he processed the visual before him. Harry felt smug but he knew better than to show it outwardly.
“Hello, Severus.”
The name felt a little foreign on his tongue but it had the desired effect. The man’s black eyes shot to him, except his pupils were blown wide with desire. Harry was very determined to have him.
“Harry.”
He shuddered. He would make the man say his name when he came. He wetted his lips, making them pliant. Only the best for this man.
Snape stepped aside, allowing him entry.
On his way in, Harry gently brushed their hands against each other, needing Snape to know they were very much on. But if he wasn’t careful, he would be the one begging. To distract himself, he took a look around and wondered how tall the bookcases were and how many books they contained; anything to keep his mind out of the gutter. He sat in one of the armchairs and lamented the lack of a sofa they could both sit on.
“Anything to drink?” asked Snape.
“Tea or just some water, please.”
Once Snape conjured a tea set and levitated it to the table between them. Harry leaned back, spreading his legs slightly, knowing that his not-quite-flaccid state would add substantially to his bulge. He was gratified to hear the sharp intake of breath and his cock twitched when Snape couldn’t drag his eyes away from his lap.
Harry undulated his hips, just a little, sensually, and he watched as the man’s mouth went slack and… was that drool forming in its corners?
“Would you like some?” asked Harry provocatively.
Snape’s eyes snapped to his and he blushed. “I beg your pardon?”
“Tea. May I pour you a cuppa?”
Harry saw the man’s Adam’s apple bob and bit the inside of his lip to stop himself from smiling.
“Yes, please,” replied Snape, seating himself in the other armchair, waiting for Harry to pour tea. As Harry did so, he watched the man trying to appear nonchalant and relaxed, but his posture was too stiff, his movements too controlled for that to be the case.
Harry flicked his wand and soon two cups were flying over to each of them. Harry plucked it from the air as did Snape, even though the man’s hand wasn’t steady at all. Harry took a sip, put it back, and levitated it back onto the coffee table. This was the longest foreplay he was ever part of and he was enjoying himself immensely.
When Snape put away the cup as well, Harry stood up and the man froze in his seat. Crossing the short distance over to him, Harry leaned above him, effectively pinning him in place.
“I want anything you’re willing to give me. I will not cross any boundary you will set and I will stop as soon as you tell me to.”
Snape’s breath hitched, his eyes firmly set on Harry’s. The man gulped, his chest was rising and falling rapidly and Harry loved seeing him so out of control.
“What can I ask for?” His voice was quiet but Harry heard him clearly.
“Apart from drawing blood and causing pain, anything. And I do mean anything.”
Snape looked to the side, clearly embarrassed and Harry trailed one finger down the side of his neck. The man leaned back, further exposing his neck to Harry’s touch.
“I’m not quite certain what is and isn’t acceptable.”
“I can give you a few options. How many times do you think you can go tonight?”
Snape fixed his gaze back onto his. “What do you mean?”
Fuck, he was so pure. “How many times can I make you come.”
“Oh,” exhaled Snape, his blush very prominent. “I, I-er, usually, when I, usually once but it–it takes some time.”
“Hm,” hummed Harry, as his finger trailed over Snape’s chest, detouring to brush the hard nipple straining through the thin shirt, and Snape hissed, his hands braced against the armrests as if that simple touch was too much. “It’s a little different when it’s someone else in charge of your body. You don’t expect the touches, you don’t know how much pressure will be applied, when the touch will change, or into what. It’s a constant surprise of unexpected moves that are pleasing to the body, evoking desire in you, enough that you can find yourself aroused again, and again.”
“Please,” he whispered, completely overwhelmed and Harry wanted to indulge him so badly.
“Anything. Let me tell you what I want to do to you and you can choose. Anything, nothing, everything, it’s up to you.”
He nuzzled his nose into Snape’s neck, inhaling his scent, committing it to memory. His lips trailed a path down to his collarbone, before they came back up along his jaw, ending a mere breath away from his lips. Snape’s mouth was open in awe, in arousal, releasing puffs of hot breath in Harry’s face.
“I want to kiss you, softly, like a gentle lover, and then ravage your mouth with my tongue so you wouldn’t know up from down.” His lips moved towards Snape’s temple, his nose picking up strands of hair as he did. “I want to sink to my knees, open your trousers, pull out your hard cock, and swallow you down my throat.” Snape made the tiniest of noises and Harry noticed his knuckles turn white as his hands gripped the armrests so hard.
“I want you naked, on your stomach, as I eat your arse clean.” Snape moaned properly this time, his hips jutting upward before he could stop himself. “And I want to flip you on your back so I could watch you as I fuck into you.”
Snape couldn’t keep up his pretend calm anymore. He threw his head back and let out a guttural groan. All of this for Harry who had barely touched him yet.
“The choice is yours.”
“Please, I–your mouth, I need to feel it, feel–”
“Should I kiss you or should I suck you?”
“God, please, my–my–”
“Cock, it is,” growled Harry and went to kneel in front of him. His hands jumped to the fly, undoing it deftly until another set of hands joined him, pausing him. He looked up and saw the trepidation in his eyes. “Not doing anything you don’t want me to. But I promise you, it’ll be good.”
He tried to keep his mind open, his intentions firmly focused on providing pleasure. Snape’s hands caressed him as they retreated and Harry got the fly undone. Reaching inside, he pulled out the man’s cock and moaned in delight before he licked the head.
“AH!” Snape gave a shout and Harry licked again, his tongue punishing the frenulum before dipping inside the slit, all the while listening to Snape’s stuttered breathing. Then he relaxed his throat and swallowed the hard length.
Snape grabbed his hair, almost flying off the armchair, and Harry pushed on his hips, sitting him firmly back down again before he began bobbing his head. He flattened his tongue on the underside of the man’s erection, his spit drooling from his mouth, but he had Snape’s hands in his hair, tugging on it at first and then forcing him down into his lap.
Harry moaned and hummed around him, sending vibrations through his lips around the base, doing everything he could to provide him with maximum pleasure. Snape began fucking his mouth, his control nonexistent by that point, his moans loud and constant, going higher in pitch and Harry knew. He slurped and sucked and hummed, intent on making the man lose it. He was sure he could make him go again.
At one moment Snape froze, keeping Harry’s head firmly in his lap as he came down Harry’s throat, his mouth open in a silent scream, his body gripped by his orgasm. Harry, for his part, swallowed everything, lightning of arousal stabbing his cock and balls and he moaned feebly as he concentrated on not letting a single drop go to waste.
When Snape flopped back like a ragdoll, panting harshly, Harry sat back on his heels and watched the man slowly pull himself together.
Snape was the picture of pure debauchery. Done-up shirt but open trousers, his limp cock hanging out, nestled against his furry balls, legs spread apart, eyes closed. Harry would have given everything to keep a picture of him like this, something that he could forever wank to.
When the man opened his eyes, they were glinting and Harry’s desire increased.
“I apologise, I couldn’t–couldn’t stop.”
“I assure you, the pleasure’s all mine.”
“You claimed to not enjoy pain,” he said remorsefully.
“Not pain, no, but the rough treatment of an unrestrained lover? That’s something else entirely.”
Snape forced himself to meet Harry’s eyes. “I did not hurt you?”
Harry smiled. “No. I quite enjoyed it.”
Snape nodded, seeming to take Harry at his word. “I assume it's my turn now?”
“That depends. Do you want to do anything?”
“Yes, I–I,” he paused, completely out of his element. Harry never saw him at such a loss for words. “You–”
“How about we take this to your bed? You might be more comfortable there.” And naked, Harry would make sure of it.
Snape stood and was about to do his fly up but Harry stopped his hands with his. “Don't.”
“I can't just walk around with my… trousers open!”
“These are your rooms, no?”
“It's indecent!” he hissed.
Harry pressed his body against Snape's, trapping their hands in between. “I'll get you naked as soon as we get there. Your body will be exposed to me and we will be doing things that will make your toes curl. You don’t need to hide.”
Snape looked around, whether in anticipation or in embarrassment, Harry didn't know, but he found it adorable. Harry stepped away from him and enjoyed the way Snape was looking at him, hesitant, covering his private bits as if he wanted to do nothing else but to hide and never be seen again.
The moment Snape let his arms fall to his sides, Harry licked his lips, his eyes automatically trailing down that body and he saw the barest of twitches as the man itched to return his hands back to his crotch but refrained, likely by sheer force of will. When their gazes met again, Harry wanted to devour him. Instead, he took off his T-shirt, his muscles flexing, knowing how much it would affect the man. Putting the T-shirt over his shoulder, not wanting to litter, he let Snape’s smouldering gaze caress his body. Extending his other hand, he waited for Snape to take it. After the tiniest of hesitation, he did and allowed Harry to pull him along into his bedroom.
Once there, Harry threw his T-shirt over the lone chair in the room, appraising the large bed dominating the space and the dark sheets placed on it, thinking that would do nicely as a place to deflower his former teacher.
Standing in front of the silent man, Harry reached for the buttons of his shirt, and, as no protests were forthcoming, he slowly freed button after button until he could slide both hands underneath the open shirt. Snape’s body was pale, no hair whatsoever, not even on his stomach. The only concentration was at his groin and Harry loved that.
He pulled Snape closer, his hands moving under the shirt to his back, caressing it in wide strokes, kneading the skin in a desperate attempt to fuse them into one being. The man was pliant in his arms, his hot breath against Harry’s neck as Harry kissed and nibbled at his throat, not having enough of him by a long shot. He pulled the shirt off his shoulders almost as an afterthought.
Sliding his hands down, he grabbed Snape’s arse through his trousers, that were just barely hanging on to his thin hips, before he slid underneath the garment letting the trousers and the loose boxers fall to pool on the floor. Having Snape naked in his arms was an aphrodisiac that was enhanced by the man’s whimpers and soft moans.
Harry lifted him up. Snape squawked, his arms and legs wrapping around Harry automatically, his cock twitching against Harry’s naked stomach, and he wondered what the man looked like naked in his arms. Harry backed them up until his legs bumped against the bed. Sitting down, he wanted to showcase his strength by doing so at a normal pace and not landing in a heap. When Snape shuddered in his arms, Harry gently bit his neck, obviously successful.
“I want to kiss you,” said Harry once Severus felt it safe to lean back a little. “But only if you’re comfortable with it.”
“Everything you do is outside my comfort zone, Potter,” he admitted quietly.
“Yes, but do you object?” He cupped the man’s cheek, his thumb caressing his cheekbone.
“No,” replied Snape quietly.
“Good, that’s very good.” He slid the hand on his cheek to take hold of his hair, firmly but gently. “Because you have a gorgeous arse by the feel of it and I find myself very eager to slide inside it.”
At Snape’s open whimper, Harry pulled his head close, their lips only less than an inch apart. “Kiss me, Severus.”
The man exhaled sharply and breached the little distance. This time it was Harry who moaned because it was very, very clear that Snape hadn’t kissed anyone before, and Harry had to rethink his whole strategy. He would have to make love to him and hope that the man would come to him again in the future.Harry had so many things he wanted to do with him, so much pleasure to introduce him to, and he had to be very mindful of not forcing anything onto the man.
He took charge of the kiss, tilting Snape’s head, using his lips to guide the man’s own, taking his bottom lip to suck on it, his tongue licking the engorged flesh, and Snape gasped. Harry took advantage of that and slowly slid his tongue inside his mouth, entwining it with Snape’s, stroking it, licking the inside of his mouth, so turned on by the heat, by Snape’s scent, by his cooperation that he was moaning into their kiss, not allowing Snape to move away, not that the man showed any resistance.
Harry laid back slowly, pulling Snape with him, maintaining the kiss. Snape was on top of him now, straddling him, lying on him fully. Harry kept pressing their bodies as close as possible, while he shuffled backwards to the middle of the bed and then flipped them over, so he was on top of Snape. He didn’t stop kissing him, he couldn’t stop kissing him, but he rested his weight on his forearms, not wanting to crush him.
Snape tore their mouths apart to just look. Harry knew how it felt; he was told many times by his lovers how they enjoyed him crowding them; being around them, above them, cocooning them beneath him. It made them feel at his mercy and so, so turned on. Judging by Snape’s expression, he was no exception, however this time, Harry felt sexy doing it. He extricated himself from the man’s embrace and stood up on the bed to give him a little striptease.
Harry popped the button on his jeans open, then lowered the zip slowly, watching Snape’s expression. The man’s eyes were glued to his crotch: eyes wide, pupils blown, his mouth open. Harry marvelled at the change in his otherwise stern professor.
He turned around, pushing the jeans tantalisingly slowly over his arse before leaning forward to put said arse on display fully. Taking the jeans off fully, he threw them on the chair where his T-shirt was.
“Fuck.”
Snape’s breathless voice was all the appreciation Harry needed. Standing straight, Harry turned around, showing off his body proudly.
Snape began panting, his cock hard once again, lying flat on his belly; his eyes darting all over Harry’s body. Harry let him take his fill for a couple more seconds before he dropped to his knees on the bed and slowly crawled back to Snape, along his body, until they met face to face. Then Harry leaned down and kissed him passionately, taking one of Snape’s hands and guiding it to his cock. Hesitant fingers wrapped around his shaft while Snape moaned, trying to see, but Harry devoured his mouth, intent on letting the man just feel.
When they broke apart, Snape was a panting mess but he was finally free to watch his hand on another man’s cock, checking the similar but foreign shape; the texture, the girth.
“You can’t possibly–” He cut himself off, likely intimidated.
“Oh, I can… and I will.” The black eyes were back on his, and while he still saw trepidation in them, he also saw desire and knew Snape could stop him at anytime if he were so inclined. “But first, I promised to eat you out, didn’t I?”
“You mean to–”
“Go through it? Lick your arse clean? Fuck you with my tongue?” At Snape’s whine, he added, “Yes, I mean to do all that. Turn around for me.”
He did, trying not to touch Harry, which the Auror found amusing. Harry put his hand on the small of his back and Snape gasped. Crawling over the man’s body, he lay over him, still supporting his own weight, but his cock was nestled against Snape’s arse and he wiggled his hips. Snape thrust up into him and Harry smiled, kissing the man’s neck before he tilted Snape’s face upwards at an awkward angle to meet their lips in a kiss, thrusting his tongue inside, licking in as he once again ground his hips against Snape’s arse.
The high-pitched sound Snape let out made Harry bite into his neck and growl low in his throat. “I need you to spread your legs for me as wide as you can.” When Snape hesitated, Harry added, “Now, Severus.”
The man burrowed his face into the pillow and did as Harry asked.
“Wider, I know you can, don’t be shy.”
When Snape moved them only a fraction more, Harry used his knees to push Snape’s legs even further apart. The man tensed but left them there, allowing Harry to expose him.
“Wonderful,” he said, kissing his shoulder before he slid down Snape’s body, his mouth leaving wet trails all the way down the man’s back until he reached his pert globes. Grabbing one in each hand, Harry kneaded them, his ears perking up at the whines Snape made before he spread them apart and dove in.
Snape gave a shout and Harry raised his lower half to not be tempted to seek friction for his own cock. He wanted to enjoy everything this man was willing to give first. He flattened his tongue, licking him from the balls and across his opening a couple of times before the tip of his tongue began licking around the rim of his entrance. Snape began mewling, whimpering in abundance, but Harry didn’t stop, didn’t relent. Instead he applied more pressure, his nose being hit over and over by the man’s scent until Harry couldn’t bear it anymore and thrust his tongue inside.
The wretched moan Snape let out added fuel to Harry’s already burning arousal, as he slurped and tongue fucked Snape’s virginal hole. He had to have a firmer grip on Snape’s hips as the man began jerking in his grasp from the anal stimulation. Harry couldn’t wait until he buried his cock inside him.
“Please!” Snape moaned, unrestrained, and Harry took mercy on him, lifting his face and wiping the moisture off with his arm.
“Where do you keep the lube?”
Snape managed to point to the bedside table and Harry went to open it to pull out a phial. “This one?”
“Yes,” came the whispered reply. Snape was a wreck already. Beautiful.
Harry took it with him, moving behind the man again. Unstoppering the phial, he poured some of the contents onto his fingers, coating them thoroughly before looking at the lean body before him.
“Turn around, I want to watch you as I get you ready.”
He thought he heard a mumbled, “Fuck,” as the man turned around onto his back. Yes, that was much better. Placing the phial onto the bed, he lay down on his side next to Snape. Now that he was so close to him, he kissed him again.
“Lift your legs up to your chest.”
Snape closed his eyes and two bright pink blotches appeared on his cheeks.
“You intend to humiliate me properly, don’t you?”
“No, not at all,” replied Harry. “I only need access to your arse.” He leaned down for another passionate kiss, waiting until Snape relaxed further before he lifted the closest leg to him up to his chest, trying not to smear the lube anywhere, then trekking down behind his balls until his fingers found what they were looking for.
He inserted one finger all the way inside. Snape gasped turning his head away while he lifted his other leg for more comfort. Harry pulled the finger out, then in again, setting a rhythm. The last thing he wanted was to speed things up despite his desire to just fuck this man.
Snape’s back was bowed a little, his face still turned stubbornly to the other side from Harry, who would, however, have none of it. He used his other hand to grab Snape’s head and tried to turn it back to him.
“Look at me,” he growled. “I want to see you come undone for me. Look at me!”
Snape allowed Harry to manhandle him to where he wanted him. His expression was completely resigned to the desire and arousal within him.
“Yes, that’s it, baby, let me take care of you.” He kissed him, inserting another finger inside, scissoring them, moving them in and out, swallowing the guttural moans that Snape couldn’t stop anymore.
He was so turned on.
Adding another finger, he made sure to watch out for the entrance to relax around them, a sign that Snape was ready. It was usually at this point that he had learnt to wait for the inner muscles to completely relax. Rushing through this caused either a minor pain or discomfort, both something he wanted to avoid altogether with Snape.
Snape’s hips began thrusting upwards to meet Harry’s fingers; he was panting and moaning with increased frequency but he was still tight around Harry.
“You need to want this, baby,” whispered Harry in his ear as he raised himself on his elbow and began to kiss along Snape’s neck and shoulder, taking his earlobe between his lips. “You need to want to let me in. I promise it’ll be good and I promise I’ll be gentle until the very end. I know it’s difficult for you but you need to trust that I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you, baby.”
Something changed, Harry could feel it. Snape let out a wretched sound as one of his hands got a firm grip on Harry’s hair, the other tilted Harry’s face towards his to kiss him on the lips. The man tried to press their bodies closer, tried to burrow his face in Harry’s, tried to fuse their bodies together.
His passage eased around Harry’s fingers.
Harry withdrew them carefully, pouring more lube from the phial onto his palm to spread on his cock before he went to sit at Snape’s arse, one hand guiding his cock inside. He pushed in, past the ring of muscle that he patiently stretched to accommodate him, and then he kept sliding and sliding until he fell forward, catching himself on his arms.
Snape’s mouth was open, whether in wonder or from pleasure he couldn’t care less, because he leaned forward, kissing it as he bottomed out fully.
“You’re so tight, baby. Wrap your legs around me.”
Snape did, slowly, moaning, unused to this position, unused to have a cock inside his arse. Dropping to his forearms, Harry began moving, setting a slow pace, needing Snape to get used to the new sensations first.
“Tell me how you feel.”
“Full,” he whimpered.
“Good, no pain?”
“No, just– strange.”
“Then let me turn this around so you won’t ever want to stop.”
Harry began changing angles, knowing that it would be there somewhere, he usually found it rather quickly–
“AAAHHH!” Snape screamed and Harry now had something to concentrate on. He didn’t increase his rhythm but aimed himself to hit that spot over and over with scary precision, making Snape moan with abandon, without control, in a constant sound that was pushing Harry towards completion quicker than he would have liked.
Harry kissed him with an open mouth, too focused on that one spot but needing another connection, and Snape obliged him, leading the kiss, likely distracting himself from coming too soon.
Snape’s meeting thrusts became jerkier, his moans changed pitch again, and his nails dug crescents into Harry’s back. The man was close, so with the last actively working brain cells, Harry took his cock in his fist, just holding him, squeezing him, and successfully tipping him over the edge.
The man was so overwhelmed that he came silently, arching beneath Harry, gripping him tightly, his body freezing in ecstasy, taking with him a groaning Harry, who, somehow, had enough wherewithal to work Snape’s cock until he milked him dry, letting it go before he would get too sensitive.
When it was over, Snape’s body sank into the mattress bonelessly, his chest rising and falling quickly, his gaze distant but his expression was slack and completely satiated, which turned out to be a good look for him.
Harry lowered himself carefully to his side, one arm thrown protectively over Snape’s midsection. Unable to help himself, he placed wet kisses on Snape’s skin but, while he was physically drained and satisfied, there was still a little thrum of desire that he couldn’t quite shake. He couldn’t go again, not so soon, but somehow he wanted to.
He didn’t understand.
“Thank you,” said Snape into the silence that was broken only by their breathing.
“Shouldn’t I be the one thanking you?”
“Whatever for?” he asked curiously, turning to look at Harry.
“You gave yourself over to me. You trusted me to take care of you. It’s a little humbling.”
Snape frowned, searching Harry’s face for something, some answer to an unasked question. Harry hoped he found it.
“It was–”
Harry smiled when Snape stopped himself. “Don’t force yourself. I assume if it was bad for you, you would have been ripping into me by now.”
“I wasn’t about to further stroke your ego.”
Snorting, Harry said, “Of course not. But give it half an hour and you can stroke something else.”
Snape’s eyes widened and Harry chuckled. “I’m only half-joking. I know this was a one-time deal.”
When Snape turned his face away and said, “Exactly, just a one-time deal,” Harry had the strangest feeling.
“Unless you are not entirely satisfied. I can see how this wouldn’t be enough to judge whether you like it.” Was he pushing it?
Snape turned his face to him once again, his expression guarded. “You might have only been lucky as you usually are.”
“Hm, you may be right. Not to mention there’s many positions you might actually prefer more but how will you know if you don’t try it.”
Snape hummed, still unsure.
Harry decided to push it. “So, in order not to waste this opportunity, seeing as I am already here, why don’t we take this up in the morning again?”
“Morning breath, Potter. I abhor that.”
“Hm, I’ll take you from behind, then. Spare you the worst of it.”
“See that you do.”
Harry yawned. “Good night, Severus,” he said, cleaning them up, spooning them together, and spelling the covers over them.
“How do you expect me to fall asleep like this?”
Harry huffed. “I don’t, really. But I do need you close.” He leaned closer to whisper, “I know how much you love my body, baby.”
A gasp, then, “Good night, Harry.”
Harry smiled. Morning couldn’t come quickly enough.