nový př 16
Monday, December 7, 1998 ---- 7:12 p.m.
Harry wasn't anywhere to be found when Severus returned to his quarters. Severus frowned at that, but perhaps it was for the best. Time to cool off was probably what the other man needed.
Sighing, Severus fetched a bottle of Firewhiskey and poured himself a stiff drink. A few moments later, he realised that the pacing wasn't serving any purpose. Muttering a little, he dropped into a chair and stared into the fire as he nursed his drink.
It had probably been a mistake to discuss his true desires with Harry.
Probably? Severus chuckled bitterly. It had definitely been a mistake.
A massive miscalculation, in fact. Worse even, perhaps, than the attitude of cool indifference that had been Severus' last serious mistake in dealing with Harry.
There was a time and place for cool indifference, after all. Severus should have remembered that. He should have known that Harry wasn't ready to hear the truth about what Severus wanted from him.
Severus tossed his head back and downed the rest of his drink in one swallow.
After that, though, he stopped indulging in recriminations. They served no useful purpose, and Severus wasn't the type of man who enjoyed wasting his time.
He'd never have survived his departure from the Dark Lord's service--his first departure, that was--if he hadn't been able to let the past and all its hideous mistakes remain just that: the past.
What remained now was to devise a strategy for the future. Not a difficult task, all things considered. Neither he nor Harry had many options. There was nothing to be done except continue on their course. Harry had largely recovered when it came to matters sexual, but the one obstacle remained. It couldn't be surmounted just because Severus was ready for it to be no more. Harry had to be ready. And until he was, until he had fully healed and could enthusiastically enjoy sex in all its forms, there was no sense in pressuring him.
Severus wouldn't even have mentioned the matter, save for the fact that Harry had asked.
Severus' fingers clenched around his empty glass, because in the final analysis, it didn't really matter whether he pressured Harry or not. The daily papers had been providing plenty of pressure on their own, and unless the Dark Lord suddenly called off his latest wave of attacks--highly unlikely, in Severus' view--the articles in the Prophet would continue to torment Harry.
It was enough to make Severus long for another drink.
Harry didn't return until long past nightfall, but at least he did return. Actually, Severus hadn't been worried about the other man running away, or some such nonsense. Harry was far too responsible to abandon the wizarding world to its fate, and even if he weren't, the spell would remind him to come home to sleep. Remind him brutally, most likely. And Harry knew that, so he had no choice but to return home each night, no matter his state of mind.
Severus couldn't help but feel satisfied by that aspect of the spell, even if deep down, he could recognise it as something Harry would find very frustrating.
"Good evening," said Severus as the door to his quarters clanged shut behind Harry. He wondered briefly why Harry hadn't taken the shorter route through the upstairs rooms, but perhaps he'd merely wanted a longer walk. He certainly looked as though he'd been exercising heavily. Harry's hair was plastered to his forehead and his skin looked damp with perspiration.
"Sure it is."
Well, at least they were talking, though Severus would have preferred a more civil reply, certainly. "Have you eaten?"
"I do actually know to do that, Severus."
Severus heard annoyance in that, lined with an edge of fury. Harry seemed like he could erupt into another full-blown rage with very little provocation. Severus was determined to give him none.
"Well then, I have some marking I need to catch up on." Severus rose to his feet, only to have Harry's hand snake out to yank him close.
"Marking? I don't think so. You have more important work to do. Namely, fucking me. Right? Right?"
Severus went still, feeling the heat of Harry's body against his own chest. He could sense the thrum of Harry's heart, a fast rhythm that said all too clearly how Harry had been working out his anger.
Severus wanted to feel Harry's heart beating like this, yes, but he wanted the cause to be excitement. Sexual excitement, Harry bottoming and enjoying it, Harry panting as Severus thrust inside him, Harry gasping yes, yes, more, harder . . . Harry crying out Severus' name as he came.
Severus wanted all that, not this angry offer of sex for its own sake. "I don't think you're really ready for that," he said, as gently as he could.
"Oh, now you know what I'm ready for!"
Something seemed to die down inside Harry, then. His eyes went a dull green as he abruptly shoved Severus away and dropped into a chair. "Did I mention that you're a complete bastard?"
"Yes, and also that you hated me."
That got him a baleful look. "Feeling sorry for yourself? Well, don't bother. You've got nothing much to complain about."
As Severus reckoned things, he had quite a lot. Before the invocation, he'd been looking forward to . . . no point in dwelling on that, he supposed. As he'd said many times to Harry, what was, was.
"Why can't you be satisfied with what you've already got?" asked Harry in a weary voice. He sounded more defeated than angry, now. "You know you're getting plenty of sex. Have I stinted at all? I mean, since that night when we first really got together?"
Severus felt like they'd been through this already, but if Harry needed to go through it again . . . "You've been marvellous. Of course you have. That doesn't change how I feel, what I desire, the kinds of sex I like best." Aware that he was rambling, Severus stopped speaking and took a few moments to think. When he was ready, he leaned forward and tried to catch Harry's hands in his, but Harry pulled them out of reach. So be it.
Severus felt like his features must be rigid, he was exercising so much effort at maintaining his self-control. Better that, though, than letting Harry see how much this meant to him. How much he wanted to spare him all of this, but also, how much he wanted him to bottom. To like bottoming.
How hopeless it was starting to seem.
"The spell knows me, knows what I long for from my partner--"
"Say slave. Weren't you the one who told me I might as well tell it like it is?"
"Very well. The spell knows what I want from my slave. And while I can understand that you don't appreciate my desire for you--"
"For my arse."
Severus inclined his head. "Yes. You'd rather I didn't want that. Obviously. But Harry . . . I can't help liking what I like. My tastes were forged long before I knew you, or could know that you'd take issue with them."
"Yeah, but would you if you could?"
Harry's tone was little short of scathing, but Severus didn't know why. He could barely follow the question. "Would I do what?"
"Change what you want!"
Severus considered his answer for only a moment. "Certainly I would."
"I don't believe you."
Severus took no offense. The truth was that he didn't know if he believed himself. He'd change what he wanted if he could, because that would make it easier to defeat the Dark Lord. That, however, wasn't what Harry had meant. Would Severus give up his desire for that sweet arse, and content himself with blowjobs and frottage? Would he happily go the rest of his life without fucking, without thrusting, without feeling a strong young arse clenching around his cock, milking the pleasure from it? Without having that with Harry? For the war, yes . . . Severus knew he would, though he wouldn't be very happy about it, certainly. But would he do it for Harry alone?
Severus didn't know. He also didn't want to think about it. There was little point in wasting time on such "what if" sorts of thoughts.
"A bit ironic," he said softly, "that you'd be so intent on assigning me unreasonable blame, when just this morning, I was trying to spare you from it."
Harry stared at him rather like a hippogriff sizing up a new acquaintance. "I don't follow."
"You couldn't have recovered any faster than you did. You couldn't help how you felt about sex. But Harry . . . neither can I." Severus raised his shoulders as he spoke the last three words.
For a moment, Harry just sat there. Then, he scowled. "That's not fair."
Severus didn't bother to point out that life seldom was. Harry knew that already. "It's true, though. I can't lie to the spell, any more than you can."
"And you only want one thing."
Not quite accurate, but Severus wasn't going to quibble over words.
"Well, let's just do it, then," said Harry, sitting up straighter. "Like I said to begin with."
"You've missed my whole point if you think having you offer yourself up as a sacrifice to the wizarding world is particularly appealing."
"Oh, fuck your point, Severus," retorted Harry, his eyes bright. "I know I'm your slave, but I also know you, so I understand what kind of slave you want. You don't want a doormat you can walk all over. You want me to be a strong man in my own right, so I get some say, here. And guess what I have to say? Fuck your fastidiousness, that's what!"
By the time Harry finished speaking, Severus was feeling winded. He wasn't sure what to react to first. Harry's clear expression of trust in Severus' intentions toward him . . . that was all to the good, but in other ways it seemed like Harry was still . . . confused, actually.
"It's not fastidiousness!" Severus was almost tempted to smile, as he'd certainly never been described with that word before. "It's simply a fact of life. I won't enjoy sex much if you're forcing yourself--"
"So you suffer, too. Big deal."
"It is, when the whole point is supposed to be my pleasure!"
"Yeah, I knew that." Harry blew out a breath. "Look, I'm not explaining things very well. I just . . . this isn't like before, when the whole idea of sex was just . . . not something I wanted to think about. I like sex, now."
"Exactly why we should wait--"
"No, no," exclaimed Harry, shaking his head. "That's all wrong. Last time, all I had to do was heal before I could like it. You were right about that. But what those men did to me . . . I don't care if we wait ten years, I'm never going to wake up one day and decide I want that kind of sex again. Because, don't you see? I don't have any reason to want it. And I'm not going to start to, not without some reason."
Severus felt his blood almost run cold. "What do you mean?"
Harry shrugged, though the gesture looked a little forced. "We have to, you know . . . practice." His gaze met Severus', the green almost piercing, even as his tone went deliberately light. "Practice makes perfect, they say."
Severus swallowed. It was difficult to refuse, since he did want Harry. Very much so. But he didn't want him this way.
"I don't think that applies in this case. It will be like Compulsio all over again."
"No, not at all." Harry shook his head. "Because this time it's my choice."
That had been Harry's choice too, Severus thought. His demand, actually. But Severus thought he knew what Harry meant. With the deadline of his birthday looming, Harry hadn't really had any choice.
But how much choice did he have now, with the Prophet reporting new deaths, new horrors, every week? Twice a week?
"You're forcing yourself again," said Severus, shaking his head.
Harry laced his hands together, his fingers turning a little white from the way he was clenching his hands. "Don't you understand?" His voice dropped to a low, almost ashamed tone. "Maybe you were right before, and the deaths this past month aren't my fault, because I couldn't have done anything sexual with you, any sooner than I did. But damn it, I am better now, and I know it. And now that it's been brought home to me just how urgent your pleasure is, no matter what form that pleasure takes--well, now that I know, I can't just go on as before. Because I am better, now. Loads better. And if I have to learn to like having a cock up my arse, well then, I'm damned well going to start trying, right?"
"You don't think you should wait until the idea has some appeal?"
Harry's teeth glinted, but it was more of a grimace than a smile. "It's never going to have appeal on its own, Severus."
"You said that about all kinds of sex, you realise."
"Yeah, well this is different!" Harry shoved his chair back. "It just is. I know what I'm doing, Severus. And if you respect me at all then you'll let me lead, like you used to. Even if you do think I'm leading us into a thicket of Devil's Snare. You aren't inside my head, but I am, and if you don't . . . look, if you don't trust me the way I've trusted you over and over, you should just say so."
Severus wasn't about to say a thing like that. He hardly wanted to live with Harry's anger and resentment over such a claim. Besides, he did trust Harry. That wasn't the same as believing that his every decision was flawless.
"You're twisting words," he said carefully. "I trust you. I trust you to do your very best. To sacrifice yourself, when required, and possibly even when not. I trust you to do whatever it takes to safeguard your friends, Harry. But that doesn't mean I always trust your judgment. You're nineteen and in many respects, you still have a lot to learn."
"Well, there's one thing I know for sure." Harry leaned over, speaking just a few inches from Severus' face. But he kept his voice soft. That was something, at least. "I know I can start trying. It may not be the best idea in the world, but it's all I have. And Severus . .. I have to do something. I won't be able to forgive myself if more people die while I dither. And don't you say it's healing. This time it is dithering, because more time isn't going to make things better. So are you with me on this, or not?" He smiled, just slightly. "Because I can't do it on my own. I need you."
Those last three words were ones Severus had longed to hear. In this context, though, they were bittersweet.
"Help me, Severus," said Harry, falling to his knees in front of Severus' chair. Harry laid his hands on top of Severus' forearms, and squeezed. "Say you'll help me. I don't want to read any more headlines and think that I could have done something to stop . . . the Dark Lord. I really, really don't."
The Dark Lord. Harry had hesitated slightly over the phrase, but he hadn't started to say Voldemort, not that time. And that told Severus something. He'd tried for years to make Harry avoid saying the Dark Lord's name, but now that he'd succeeded, the victory was like dining on bitter ashes. Saying Voldemort when almost no-one else would . . . it was part of who Harry was.
Severus didn't want Harry to change. He appreciated him the way he was, flaws and all.
But he would change, Severus suddenly thought, chills sweeping down his spine. Guilt could change a man in profound ways. Nobody knew that better than Severus himself.
Harry needed this to be over. He needed those headlines to stop. As soon as possible, too. What if it did take years before Harry was comfortable with the idea of bottoming for Severus? By then, the guilt might have eaten him alive, and he'd be a husk of a man.
Severus didn't want that for Harry. And he didn't want it for himself. He had to spend the rest of his life with Harry, after all. Or rather, he didn't have to; Podentesdidn't require that of the master wizard. But Severus cared about Harry and intended to keep his vow.
He'd much rather keep it with a relatively content Harry than one tormented by the idea that things could have been different, that he could have spared hundreds more than he had.
And if that meant moving bottoming to the top of the agenda, as it were . . . well, Harry was the one doing the moving, wasn't he? Severus wasn't the one pressuring him.
There was no reason for Severus to feel uncomfortable about the fact that his cock had begun to twitch.
"All right," he said smoothly, standing up and pulling Harry up with him. One deep, long kiss, Harry as responsive as ever, and Severus could tell that this wasn't going to be a replay of the night they'd used Compulsio. Harry would participate, this time. Harry would try, instead of lie motionless, begging to be silenced so Severus wouldn't hear him cry.
Not that Harry had cried. He'd wanted to, though. That was almost worse.
Severus decided that he had to stop thinking about that night. Putting a hand on the small of Harry's back, he pulled their bodies closer together. Mmm . . . Harry was half-hard, it seemed, which was better than nothing, though it was still a bit disappointing. Usually an embrace and heated kiss was enough to get Harry fully ready for sex.
Actually, by this time he'd frequently be pulling his clothes off with frantic hands.
Harry wasn't shy about nudity, not now. He'd been entirely at ease with Severus for quite some time, now.
Severus kissed him again, their tongues intertwining, pulling him closer even as he lowered a hand and slipped it inside Harry's trousers, feeling his cock through his pants. Such a satisfying handful, he thought as he palmed it, up and down in sure strokes. He was rewarded by Harry thrusting against him, and not like he was trying, either. Like he was getting more hot and bothered by the second.
Encouraged, Severus reached inside Harry's Y-fronts and took his cock in hand.
Harry moaned.
A good start, certainly, but after a few more moments of kissing, Severus was a bit bemused to realise that he didn't know what to do next. With a fully experienced partner he would feel free to simply proceed, but Harry was a special case.
Severus drew back, panting slightly, his own cock now hard and pulsing. "Have you . . ." He had to clear his throat before he could continue, his voice was so husky. "Have you thought at all about positions?"
Harry shrank back a little. "Oh. Um, no. I mean, I know it's a little stupid to think there are only two, the one they used and the one you did, that once, but . . . er, I didn't like either one of those very much, to be honest."
Severus nodded as he pulled his hand out of Harry's trousers. "I know you want to start trying as soon as possible, but I really do think things will go better if we spend a short while talking. All right?"
"As long as we're not still talking if."
"No, you've convinced me." Not for the first time, Severus was struck by the irony woven through his whole relationship with Harry. Harry convincing Severus to top, finally. "We should discuss how, I think."
"Oh. All right."
Harry took a seat on the settee and patted the cushion next to him. "So?"
Severus paused to think. It was difficult, with Harry's thigh pressed up against his own. Or perhaps it was difficult because his mind was spinning with the promise of what this evening might hold. "There are more positions we could try, of course."
"Good, because hands and knees is out. I can't see ever liking that again. I felt . . . so helpless." Harry bit his lip. "And also like I was there to be used, like I was a thing to them. Which I was, I suppose. I'm glad they're dead. But, uh . . . you aren't going to tell me now that you really need that too, are you? That position?"
It was a position Severus enjoyed, actually. He liked the feeling of dominance it gave him. But there were other positions that were just as pleasurable. "No. You don't need to worry about that."
"Good." Harry nodded briskly.
"What did you dislike about lying on your side, one leg angled up, with me behind you?"
Harry snorted. "No offense, but that was almost as creepy as the other."
"Why?"
It looked like Harry needed to stop and think about that. "I guess because I had to keep telling myself, Severus, Severus, Severus. This is Severus . . . I'd rather be able to look at your face when we do it, see?"
"Yes." Severus lifted a hand and made a whirling motion. "We could try having you straddle my lap. Facing me, of course."
Harry made a noise that sounded slightly strangled. "Oh, yeah. I think I saw that one in the book I looked at. You know, in Blackwell's? But I thought it looked a bit weird."
"You might like it more than you think. I don't think you'd feel . . . as forced, at any rate."
"I think I'd feel silly."
Severus could see that Harry would. "Well, the position has other drawbacks, too. It would make it more difficult for me to control how far I sink into you. Gravity rather takes care of that."
Harry shuddered. "No, then. I need you to be able to pull out if I say, right? I mean, right away. Not that I'm planning to say. Any other ideas?"
Severus did have one. His favourite position of all, in fact, but since he doubted it would suit Harry at all, he merely shrugged.
"What? I can tell you're thinking of something."
"Well, there are many positions, of course," Severus hedged. "But if you think you'd feel silly on my lap at first, there's little point in discussing them. Most are a good deal more exotic."
"But you do have one in mind. I told you, I can tell."
"Frottage position, but with me on top."
"Oh."
"You see the problem, obviously."
"Yeah, I still don't really like anybody pinning me down." Harry sighed. "What about frottage position with me still on top? I like that very much."
"Thrusting from the bottom . . . it's much more difficult for me to aim, if you catch my meaning. More difficult in general. But if you wish . . ."
"You don't like that position so much."
"Honestly, no." Severus cleared his throat and stroked his fingers down Harry's cheek as they sat there. "However, it's all a matter of degree. I could manage, and it's not as though I wouldn't enjoy myself."
Harry leaned into Severus' touch, seeming lost in thought. Finally, he spoke. "No . . . I think a position you really like would be a better place to start. Since really, your pleasure is pretty much the point."
"Harry--"
"It's all right. I'm used to that idea. And I meant the spell's point, anyway. Not your point. I know you want it to be good for me. I get that, now."
"Are you sure you're ready to have another man's weight on you, holding you down, though?"
"No," said Harry, a bit of a wry laugh wrapped around the word. "How about we start tonight by trying frottage again, with you on top? I ought to be able to enjoy that, once I get used to being on the bottom, literally. And then if that goes well, we can try frottage with you inside me, tomorrow."
"And if it doesn't go well?"
"Then we think of something else." Harry chewed his lip. "I just hope there aren't any attacks tonight. I'm going to kick myself in the morning if we don't have real sex and--"
"Frottage is real sex."
Harry lifted his shoulders. "Yeah, I know that. It's just . . . you know what I meant."
"You aren't going to kick yourself in the morning. You're doing something to move this along. It's like we discussed earlier. You can only do what you're able to do. For tonight, this may well be all you can manage."
"Ha. It probably is," said Harry. "My palms are getting clammy just thinking about it."
Severus decided not to point out that Harry's palms couldn't think, in any case. Instead, he took one of Harry's hands between both of his own, and clasped it firmly. "Try to remember the times we had together before the invocation. You thought frottage was wonderful, no matter who was on top. Cast your mind back to then."
"Don't suppose you'd give me a memory potion to help with that?"
"You know I can't."
Harry sighed, shifting over to lean more fully against Severus. "Yeah, I know. It's just . . . well, maybe the spell's not as attuned to us as we think. It didn't punish me for having an interest in the twins' shop, not until I knew about it."
"Deliberately making yourself forget and being genuinely unaware of something . . . those are two different circumstances. We can't use magic to solve this, not least because I don't want you able to make love only when you've been potioned to do it. But if you'd rather take a few more days to think matters through . . ."
"No, no," exclaimed Harry, jumping up from the settee. "Let's take a bath together to relax. With lots of bubbles, and some kissing and fondling and stuff, until we're both going batty, right? And then when I'm nice and primed, we'll move it into the bedroom and rub off on each other." He looked Severus up and down. "Funny how I keep thinking how to make it right for me when the whole point is supposed to be you. But you like things mutual, of course."
Harry's eyes were still bright with apprehension, if not fear, but he was talking like a man with a purpose, a man determined to do what needed to be done. Severus could detect no self-pity in Harry now, and no resentment. Just determination.
Just loyalty, to the people who needed this from him.
Not for the first time, Severus was struck by a sense of Harry's unwavering bravery. Cambiare Podentes had asked more from him than a spell had any right to ask, and Harry just kept giving.
He'd give until he drained himself dry, Severus suddenly realised. He'd give whatever was needed.
But what Harry needed, of course, was someone who would call a halt when the time came. Severus vowed then and there to be that someone. After the Dark Lord was destroyed, if the wizarding world continued to demand of Harry things he would prefer not to give, Severus would tell them what they could do with their interviews and exposes and front-page stories.
"So, that bath?" said Harry. "Or should we have a drink, first."
"Alcohol can inhibit the male libido."
"So save that until afterwards. We'll celebrate."
Severus just hoped they'd be able to. It all depended on how healed Harry was, and whether he'd be able to tolerate the kind of frottage he'd proposed.
Monday, December 7, 1998 ---- 10:20 p.m.
"Wow, it's later than I thought," said Harry as he flicked his wand, casting Tempus before laying it aside on the night table on his side of the bed.
"We can always resume tomorrow night."
"No." Harry appeared to hesitate, then. "Unless you're too tired?"
"For sex with you? You're joking."
Harry laughed, the sound a little strained, but only a little. "Hey, I've seen you be too tired."
"Five minutes after making you scream, I think you mean?"
"Yeah, well just be sure to make me scream tonight," said Harry. "And not like they did."
"I'd appreciate it if that was the last mention of them tonight," said Severus tightly. "I know this isn't easy for you. You don't have to keep reminding me."
"Sorry." Harry moved closer to Severus, as if to apologise, standing just in front of him as he tugged the bathrobe from Severus' shoulders, and then let his own fall as well. "I'm really feeling pretty randy, even knowing what we're going to try."
Randy didn't quite describe it. Harry was fully hard, his cock jutting out from his body. Harry was even thrusting it a little, as if he needed to be doing something with it.
Well, he should need to do something, thought Severus. They'd given each other handjobs in the bath, repeatedly working the other man into a froth, then stopping just two or three strokes away from orgasm. Harry had gasped in protest, while Severus was more prone to grunt, but neither one of them had really been complaining.
What mattered was that they be primed, as Harry had put it.
A step Severus was reluctant to take, when all was said and done. Because until Harry felt comfortable bottoming for Severus--until he liked it and would ask for it--Harry had to be in charge. Harry had to take the lead.
He seemed to figure that out in short order. Stepping back over to the bed, Harry turned the covers down several times and then slid onto the top sheet, lying on his back, head propped up on a thin pillow. "Join me, eh?"
Severus couldn't help but notice that Harry's cock had wilted a bit. "Truly, Harry, we don't have to. There's no need to prove anything to me, or yourself. You could hardly be braver--"
"Just join me, Severus," Harry interrupted. "Don't play hard-to-get, when I know perfectly well that you'd like to be got, eh?"
Severus needed no second invitation.
Stretching out beside Harry, he spent a while kissing him again, trying to work him back into that state of intense need they'd both experienced in the bath. He succeeded, too. Before long, Harry was turning towards him so he could thrust his cock up against Severus' thigh.
Harry gasped, his muscles starting to stiffen--
Recognising the physical cue for what it was, Severus swiftly pushed against Harry's shoulder until the other man was lying on his back once more, then rolled atop him, positioning his body so they were lying cock to cock.
Harry sucked in a huge breath and went stiff again. An entirely different kind of stiffness, this time.
"It's all right," said Severus, bending his head to kiss him. Just a brief kiss, that time; it seemed to Severus that Harry needed to breathe. "Keep your eyes open. Look at me. It's Severus, yes?"
"Y-- y-- yes." Harry brought his arms up, around Severus, and held on tight. It was as though he were trying to remind himself, or perhaps convince himself, that this time, he'd chosen to have sex.
Green eyes seemed to bore into him as Severus thrust his hips, the motion tentative.
"Severus," gasped Harry, but not in any kind of plea. "Severus, yeah. It's Severus. Good."
He didn't sound like he thought it was particularly good, however. Harry's voice was tense with stress, the pitch a bit higher than normal. Panic, almost, but at least he wasn't pushing Severus away.
"That's right, it's Severus," said Severus again as he thrust smoothly up against Harry's cock. Hmm, the friction there was almost chafing; they weren't still wet from the bath. Severus almost reached for his wand, but had a better idea. "Why don't you cast a slickness spell for us, Harry?"
Good, thought Severus a moment later. Harry fumbled for his wand and cast the spell over too wide an area, messing the sheets as well as both of them, but Severus thought he seemed marginally more at ease, afterwards. He was a participant this time, not a victim.
"You remember how we used to do this," said Severus, angling his hips a little more sharply. Then a quick thrust. Ahhh. "The first time, you thought it was brilliant. You even liked the sound of the word, I think."
"Yeah," said Harry, his cock still only half-hard. "I . . . yeah, I remember."
Severus bent his head, letting the edges of his hair sweep along Harry's shoulders. "Thrust against me, then, hmm? I'm sure you remember how. Just do what feels good."
"What feels good . . ." Harry made a thin noise of distress. "I think I want you to get off me."
Oh. A twinge of disappointment coursed through Severus, but he began to roll to the side so he could comply. Harry's hands, still clutched around his back, tightened.
"No, don't. I didn't mean it. Well, I did, but-- I just need a minute. I can do this. I can. Just keep moving, Severus. Severus."
Severus had to concentrate a little to get properly hard himself, after Harry's moment of panic. Harry, however, was so appealing that it didn't take Severus long. Young, fit, his well-muscled chest a feast for Severus' eyes . . . nothing to separate their cocks except a thin layer of slick scented oil . . . it wasn't long until Severus was thrusting in earnest, and shuddering from head to toe with the effort of not coming. He wanted them to come together. Or failing that, he wanted Harry to climax first.
"I can't seem to stop thinking--" Harry visibly swallowed. "Maybe you could talk more, Severus. I keep hearing--"
Severus knew what he was hearing. He'd heard it all himself, or at least a good portion of it, that time he'd used the mind-bond to see what had happened to Harry in London. Filth. Unimaginable filth such as Severus had rarely heard.
Nice, tight hole you've got here, Potter, Bole had joked as he'd thrust brutally into Harry. Only it was no joke. By the time I'm through with it, it's not going to be quite so tight, however. We'll have to fit you with a plug before we take you to see the Dark Lord, so you don't close up again. Not that you're likely to keep it in for long. When we tell them what a good fuck you make, everybody'll want a turn---
Severus didn't actually know how Bole could have said so much while he was fucking. Perhaps he had to. Perhaps the only way he could achieve his pleasure was to keep up a steady stream of verbal abuse.
Severus didn't know what he could do to erase Bole's voice from Harry's memory--short of spells he couldn't allow himself to use--but he did think that Harry's idea of Severus talking was probably a good one.
"You feel wonderful," he said softly, thrusting, his hands coming up to rub Harry's shoulders, trying to ease the lines of stress there. "You're mine, and I'm never going to share you, not with anyone."
He had to stop to take a breath as he kept on thrusting. Harry's cock was hardening now; Severus could feel it, a slick rod that made Severus' every motion all the more pleasurable. "And I'm yours," he went on, panting. "And you can have me whenever-- whenever--"
It was all too much for Severus, particularly coming after the long, stressful day he'd had, wondering where Harry had got to and what mood he'd be in when he came home. To have this, to be on top in one sense if not in every sense, when he'd so little expected it . . . to hear and see Harry beneath him, lips parted in passion, hips moving to match his own thrusts . . .
Severus tried to restrain himself, tried to wait, but when it came to Harry, his usual self-control was shaky at best.
He came wildly, gasping, thrusting, crying out, his release so sudden and forceful that for a moment, it seemed like Harry was his whole world.
Afterwards, of course, he felt like a perfect idiot. Harry was still now, just staring up at him, his green eyes dazed. It came to Severus then that for all it had seemed that Harry was his whole world, what he'd just done was forget all about what Harry needed!
Severus groaned, then. "Sorry--"
"For what?"
Rolling off of Harry, Severus flung an arm across his eyes. "I stopped thinking about you and pleased myself."
"But Severus," said Harry, his voice nearer. When Severus moved his arm and cracked an eye, he saw that Harry was propped up on one elbow, looking down at him. "Don't you remember? I learned it from you."
Severus was in no mood for games. "Learned what?" he asked, a bit sharply.
Harry's hand, stroking across his chest and then moving down to fondle his cock and balls, made Severus feel much better, though. About everything.
"When you do what feels good to you," Harry said, toying with the hairs on Severus' stomach, now, "it feels good to the other person, too. At least, when you're making love instead of forcing somebody."
Severus pulled himself up by his elbows to lean on the pillows at the head of the bed. "So that felt good to you, you mean to say?"
"Severus, I came too!"
"You did?"
Harry laughed, just slightly. "I'm only smeared with it. Though I suppose you might not know whose is whose. You really didn't notice?" Harry laughed again, the sound more carefree. "Don't worry about it. That's good, right, for crossing powers and everything, that you were into it so much. And I don't think you let yourself get lost in it until you were sure that I was going to be all right."
"True." Severus still felt like he should have done better, but perhaps he was over-thinking everything, as he'd once accused Harry of doing. Certainly, the other man seemed to be in good spirits.
And that was what counted, after all.
"Are you still set on the same course of action for tomorrow?"
Harry yawned. "Yeah, I think so. I mean, frottage went well enough. Bit tough at first, felt like I was suffocating, but after a while I stopped thinking about that, so much. Your voice helped. So remember that tomorrow, I guess."
Severus decided he would definitely remember it, but he still couldn't help wondering whether Harry was pushing himself ahead too fast.
Tuesday, December 8, 1998 ---- 8:38 p.m.
"Bit stupid to be so nervous," said Harry the next evening. It was stupid, but knowing that didn't seem to make any difference. He'd been on edge all day, and the closer it had got to nightfall, the more often he'd felt his breathing hitch. Dinner, sitting by Severus' side at the head table, had been faintly like torture. Harry kept feeling like Severus was staring at him, which wasn't true at all. That was just Harry's self-consciousness rearing its head. On one level, he couldn't believe that he'dbeen the one to insist that they just go ahead and . . . do it.
Or start doing it, rather, since Harry didn't have much confidence that their first attempt would go all that well. He'd been much more optimistic the previous night, after that hot frottage session. But now, standing in front of the Floo, looking Severus up and down, remembering the sheer size of the man's cock, remembering how that cock had felt, that once, shoved up his bum . .. it was all Harry could do not to shudder.
After all, rubbing off on each other was one thing. They'd done it dozens of times. They'd done it before Harry went to London, even. Which maybe explained why he was all right with it, actually. And so what if he'd managed last night to tolerate Severus' weight on top of him? As breakthroughs went, that one was pretty dismal. It wasn't as though Severus had done anything with that weight, was it? Not anything Harry was likely to object to. He hadn't even used his fingers. Hadn't tried to penetrate Harry at all.
But tonight he was going to.
"So, let's get started," said Harry, trying to sound happy about it. Or at least, not completely miserable. From the look on Severus' face, he hadn't succeeded.
"I'd like to walk into Hogsmeade for a drink."
"A drink?" Harry twisted a lip. It wasn't like he was expecting to come, not with what he was facing tonight, but he didn't see the sense in making it even harder, either. "That tends to make things more difficult for a man, remember?"
Severus raised his chin fractionally. "You can order pumpkin juice if you prefer."
"I can get that here."
"Dessert, then."
Severus sounded a bit snappish, Harry thought. Not to mention irrational. "I can get that here, too."
For that, he got a baleful look. It was amusing, actually. Severus looked just the way he used to during class, when Neville would ask a particularly brainless question, but now, that look just didn't have the impact that it used to. Now, it looked like Severus was trying to use his expression to shut Harry up.
Harry smiled, thinking that if he'd been able to see Severus' expressions in that light all those years ago, he'd probably have had fewer boilovers in potions class.
"All right, you want a walk. To unwind, something like that. I don't suppose a stroll around the castle would do the trick?"
Severus did look tense, Harry suddenly thought. Strange how that would make Harry feel better about everything.
"I want to begin the evening by treating you as my lover," the other man said stiffly. "Which to you, as I recall, means being taken out for meals and such."
"You can't walk 'round the castle with your lover?"
"The other means more to you," Severus insisted. Stubbornly.
He was wrong . . . it didn't mean more. But that Severus would want so much to put Harry at ease . . . that meant enough that Harry decided not to argue further. "All right," he said, shrugging. "One of those molten chocolate volcanos they served at that place you took me to last time, that sounds good. Especially if I can get one that's erupting--"
When Severus grimaced, Harry felt like they were back to their usual camaraderie with one another.
Tuesday, December 8, 1998 ---- 9:58 p.m.
The chocolate volcano had been brilliant, and Severus good company, so Harry knew he should be relaxed, now. The way he figured it, that had been the whole point of the outing. Severus had done everything he could, it seemed, to put Harry at ease. Dessert for two out in Hogsmeade--neither one of them drinking--then casual conversation on the walk home, Severus carefully avoiding any subject that might have sexual overtones. They hadn't even held hands, though of course Severus was well-aware that Harry didn't really want to call attention to himself--or his personal life.
That life was about to get a great deal more personal, Harry thought, gulping as he stood there in Severus' front room. Of course he was gulping, for what was Severus doing but conjuring instruments? Jazz quartet, again, playing something with a slow, sultry rhythm. Even Harry could tell that the song sounded like sex.
The whole thing was like a flashing neon light, blinking straight in his face, letting him know, in case he was too dense to figure it out on his own, that the "casual" phase of their evening had ended. Now, everything they did would have but one end in mind.
Sex.
Penetration.
Harry felt sick.
Severus opened his arms. "Hmm?"
No choice, really. It would be churlish to refuse to dance. Harry went to lean against Severus, his cheek on the other man's shoulder. Severus' hands began rubbing Harry's lower back as they swayed together, the music guiding their slow, synchronized steps.
Churlish or not, Harry couldn't bear more than a few minutes of it.
"Look," he said, pulling back, "All this build-up . . .this isn't necessary. I'd rather just, you know . . . strip off and get down to business."
"Get it over with, you mean," said Severus, pulling him back into an embrace. "You felt that way the night we used Compulsio. But then, all you needed was my semen inside you. This is different. You need to learn to make love with me when you bottom. Unless you're already on fire for me, stripping off so we can 'get down to business' isn't the way to go about things."
"Yeah, all right." Harry leaned more heavily against Severus. "You're . . . yeah, I know exactly what you mean. The other sounds easier, that's all. I mean, a lot easier."
"We don't have to do this tonight."
Huh. Harry got the feeling that Severus wanted to put things off, which was a little bit strange. Surely, Harry should be the one feeling that way. But he wasn't. He'd been lucky that morning; no new atrocities, or at least, no headlines about any. Luck like that wouldn't hold, though. Harry had to do his very best to please Severus in bed, please him fully, and that meant more than blowjobs. He knew that, now.
And whatever Severus said about it being too soon, Harry knew he was ready to try, at least.
He began unbuttoning his shirt as he talked. "Don't worry, Severus. Everything'll work out all right. Come on, you take off your shirt, too. I remember bare-chested dancing being pretty arousing. And that's the idea, right? Arousal, not getting it over with."
The dancing had been good before, but it was more exciting once they were pressed close against each other, once Harry could feel the warmth from Severus' skin soaking through his own to heat his muscles. "Mmm, good," he murmured as he swayed to the music, mostly because it was, but also because it seemed like Severus needed some reassurance that they were doing the right thing. "You feel good."
"You, too," said Severus in a thick voice. "Harry . . ."
"Let's just dance." Harry looped his arms about Severus' neck and pressed his whole body more closely against the other man's.
Severus fell silent, then. Harry counted that a good thing. He wasn't sure how many times he could insist they go through with this. If Severus kept trying to dissuade him, Harry might just take the coward's way out. And what good would that do him, really? Putting things off tonight might be a relief, but he couldn't put them off forever. Sooner or later, he would have to do as Severus wanted. And later, he would probably have to do it knowing that people had suffered and died while he put things off.
Better to just face the music tonight. Now.
"Let's move this to the bedroom, now," said Harry, tugging on Severus as he spoke. "Come on. And don't tell me again that I don't have to. I know that, right? I want to."
"I wish you did," murmured Severus in a dark tone, but other than that, he didn't voice any objections.
"Let's pretend this is any other night," said Harry, thinking fast as the bed loomed into view. He didn't think he could get through this if it was just a case of lying down and spreading his legs so Severus could start in with the fingers. Funny how a few moments ago he'd just wanted to get it over with, and now he was . . . well, not putting it off, not exactly. But he could see that Severus was right about how to proceed. Things would be a lot worse than they had to be if they didn't have the kind of touching and kissing that had always been a regular part of their lovemaking.
Harry dropped to his knees and began to unbutton Severus' trousers. When he peeled the fabric back and lowered the man's pants, and that large cock came into view, his mouth watered. As well it should; Harry loved giving blowjobs. He loved them even more since he'd learned how to take Severus all the way down his throat. The feeling of power was wonderful. The knowledge that he could make the other man gibber, and stagger. That he was good enough to make Severus go weak in the knees.
Harry loved everything about it. And that wasn't even counting the flavour of the smooth velvety head, the slick feel of that cock sliding into his mouth, the satisfying sensation of being filled that way . . .
Strange how the size of Severus' cock could be something so exciting when he thought about sucking it, but still so alarming when he thought about . . . other things.
Needing a distraction, Harry opened his mouth and began to lick and suckle, teasing that cock. He felt better as soon as he started the blowjob. This was familiar. This was exciting. And safe. He knew what to expect, he knew it would be brilliant, all of it . . .
Harry drew back to take a breath. "Mmm, you taste so good--"
"Better than chocolate volcano?"
That made him grin, even as both his hands pumped Severus' cock to keep it interested. "I don't know. I guess I'll have to make you explode."
But of course, he couldn't do any such thing, and he knew it. Severus was going to come tonight, but not down Harry's throat.
When the other man's climax seemed to be close at hand, Harry reluctantly pulled back and clambered to his feet. "Dungeons need some thicker, softer rugs."
"Ah, you're angling for a massage."
Harry almost said no, but it was a good way to proceed, so he nodded.
Strange that Severus didn't try to undress him, Harry thought, but the other man did seem to be focussed on letting Harry lead, tonight. Harry was hardly going to object to that, considering.
Anyway, by then he'd concluded that his "obey-Severus" routine really wasn't working so well. It hadn't made their powers cross faster, or better. Only pleasingSeverus would do that, it seemed, and obedience wasn't what Severus wanted from him.
Ironic, really. Harry had been afraid at first that Severus was the kind of man who would just love to have Harry as a slave. And now, if he were that sort of man, things would be much more simple. More manageable.
But what was, was.
Harry shucked off his own clothes, lowering a hand to his cock as it came into view. But not to hide it. He liked having Severus look at him, these days. He started palming himself back to full hardness, the way he'd been as he'd knelt to take Severus in his mouth.
"My prerogative, I believe," murmured Severus as he finished taking off his own clothes. Stepping close to Harry, he replaced Harry's hand with his own, and held Harry's cock in a firm, warm grip. "Mmm?"
It seemed like he was asking permission. Harry gave it to him by tilting his face up and licking his lips. Severus wasted no time in responding to the unspoken message.
Nothing like a steamy kiss with a tall, dark man while he rubs your cock to make it all seem all right, thought Harry as the kiss went on.
Sometime in the middle of it, they tumbled onto the bed, Severus' lying atop Harry. A brief moment of panic almost broke the spell, but then Harry remembered the previous night's frottage, and pleasure washed over him. Severus on top didn't bother him, not really. It was like expecting your ankle to hurt because you'd twisted it a while ago. You kept anticipating a twinge when you stepped on it, for a while after it had all healed up. Right?
Yes, like that, Harry told himself, bucking his hips up, causing his cock to slide forward and back through Severus' cupped fingers.
Severus moved his weight more fully atop Harry, and deepened their kiss.
They probably could have gone on like that all night, since Severus showed no sign of moving onto other things . . . though he did slow down his hand whenever Harry began to feel like his climax was about to pound through him.
It got to be maddening, after a while.
But perhaps that was the point. Severus wanted Harry to lead. He wanted Harry to ask.
And knowing Severus, Harry knew just what to ask for. Push your cock into me now . . . that wasn't going to do it, not in the least.
"Fingers," he gasped, ripping his mouth away from the other man's so that he could speak. "Do that thing with your fingers, like before, when you were sucking me at the same time. But-- but-- but don't let me come, I guess. Save that for when you . . . yeah."
For all Harry had got used to Severus' heavy weight atop him, it was still a relief when the man moved down the bed. Remembering when they'd done this before, Harry scooched up to give Severus more room, and opened his legs to give Severus access. His throat went dry at that, but he knew it really shouldn't have. This was familiar, right? He wasn't pinned to a bed, helpless, on hands and knees with his arse high in the air.
He wasn't here to be used, not really. Not like that.
Not anything like that.
He felt the tingle of a spell washing through his lower body.
"All right, Harry?"
Harry laughed, but not in amusement or relief. It was nervous energy spilling out. "I need . . . don't ask me that. I mean it. Don't ask again. I don't want to keep asking myself the same thing, and that's all that happens when you ask it, and--" Harry stopped and took a breath. "I'll tell you if I have a problem, Severus."
"Of course." Severus fell largely silent then, except for low, vague noises of pleasure, but that only made sense. He had wrapped his lips around Harry's cock, and was moving his head up and down on it in a steady rhythm that had Harry wriggling on the bed, eager for more. For a while, that was all there was: just heat and wetness and a slow, warm build toward climax.
Just as Harry had asked, Severus didn't inquire again if he was all right. He didn't even stop to check if Harry was ready for the next step. Instead, in one seamless motion as he continued to suck Harry's cock, he moved a hand to rest his fingers against Harry's entrance.
Harry jerked; he couldn't help it.
Severus' other hand settled onto Harry's thigh and massaged the taut muscle there, until Harry relaxed and subsided into the mattress. Severus, he told himself. This is Severus.
Unfortunately, there was no smooth, deep voice to remind Harry of that. He couldn't even see Severus' face, which had been the whole point--or one of them--of this position. What he could do, though, was lift up on his elbows a little so that he could catch a glimpse of Severus' black hair.
Mmmm. Shoulder-length black hair brushing against Harry's thighs with every movement of Severus' head. Rhythmic motion, up and back as he continued to suck Harry's cock with sure, steady confidence.
Harry lay back down and concentrated on the sensation of that hair sweeping his bare thighs. Severus' hair. Severus, taking care of Harry, as he'd taken care of Harry all along, Making sex good for him. Putting Harry in charge. Waiting, as long as it took, until Harry was ready . . .
That finger was still resting against his entrance. Harry wouldn't say he'd got used to it, not exactly, but concentrating as he was on the blowjob, and the feel of Severus' silky hair, he'd stopped paying so much attention to that part of his body.
That all changed when the finger began swirling in little circles, massaging the puckered flesh surrounding his entrance, probing it lightly.
Not like them, Harry told himself, frantically clenching his thighs in an effort not to kick out or roll away from the contact. They didn't take any time to prepare me. This is proof that this is Severus. Severus who . . . cares about making this good for me.
Which probably isn't even possible, but I can hardly blame him for trying.
Harry refocused his mind on the blowjob. He felt a bit bad, actually, that Severus was trying so hard for so little purpose; the more that finger swirled and moved, the less Harry was able to enjoy any of this, blowjob included. But he did feel bad about it, so he gave a little bit of a moan, trying to sound like he was still enjoying himself a lot.
It must have fooled Severus, or at least encouraged him, since the other man sped up his tempo. Or maybe that was just Severus reacting to Harry's obviously wilting cock.
Well, at least he was still half-hard. Otherwise, Severus might stop completely, and insist they wait until Harry was really ready to take this step.
Fuck that, thought Harry. Thinking about this all day, worrying about it, that was a lot worse than going through with it. He wasn't going to wait day after day, all the while feeling like his mind was coming unhinged from the stress.
"In," he gasped, shifting his hips forward to tell Severus that yes, he was ready. "Just . . . in."
Severus' finger moved with slick slowness past his entrance, breaching the ring of muscle which had hurt so horribly when they had ploughed past it.
Severus' finger now was nothing like that. It wasn't even the same as it had been that night when they'd used Compulsio, when Harry had wanted to claw his way out of the bed, and only the spell had kept him in place. This . . . Harry was ready for it. Which wasn't to say that it felt pleasant. But neither was it like torture. It was just . . . a finger up his bum. Severus' finger.
Severus, who wouldn't hurt him.
Harry jerked his hips again. Forward, not back. "In. Yes. All the way."
Severus lifted his mouth off Harry's cock. "Push out as I push in."
When Harry did, that finger slipped farther inside with little resistance. The sensation wasn't terrible, though it did make Harry sort of want to squirm, and not with arousal. The blowjob helped, though. It kept him on the edge of pleasure, at least, which meant that everything happening on this bed had an entirely different feel to it, than what had gone on in--
No. Not going to think about that, Harry sternly told himself.
The sweep of Severus' hair wasn't enough, he suddenly thought. Squirming on the bed, Harry managed to get a couple of pillows behind him, which gave him enough of an angle so that he could reach down and feel Severus' hair as the blowjob continued. Long strands fell between his fingers, caressing them. And that helped, too.
Severus began moving his finger in and out, the smooth slide of it not painful in the least, though Harry still found himself tensing, struggling with himself not to inch back, to get away. But his stomach wasn't really clenching; he didn't even feel like he needed to beg to be silenced. As unpleasant as he found all this, he wasn't precisely revolted.
The best description, he supposed, was that his reluctance was controllable. By himself, this time. He didn't need a spell to help him through it.
Severus twisted his wrist, pushing in more than he had before, and Harry realised he was reaching for his prostate. When he brushed it, though, it produced nothing more arousing than a mild zing of sensation. A tiny jolt coursing through Harry's cock. Harry could have remained silent through it, but he didn't want Severus to feel like there was no point in being a considerate lover, so he let himself gasp, just a little.
Another finger joined the first, Severus moving as slowly and carefully as before, and then finally a third, pressing into him. That burned no matter the care Severus was taking, and reminded Harry of another burn, a fierce, deep one that he'd thought would split him in two.
But it won't be like that with Severus, he told himself, lying stiff as a board, by then. It was either that or shake, and he wasn't going to do that to Severus. It wasn't like that with Compulsio. His cock was big--way too big--and it burned some, but I didn't feel like I wouldn't be able to sit a broom for a week . . .
When Harry felt his prostate being stroked again, he stopped caressing Severus' hair and lay back down flat, shoving the pillows out of the way. They fell with a softplop onto the floor. He bit his lip for a moment. The zings coursing through his cock were better than nothing, he supposed, but he just felt wound so tight that by then, he did want to have this over with.
Over and done with, and then next time would be better, right? Because it was bloody well obvious that this time wasn't going to include any mind-shattering orgasms or shouts of more, more, faster, faster.
"Cock now," Harry rasped. "Really. I want to."
I want this finished, was more what he meant. And Severus probably knew it, so there was no need to say it out loud. All it could do was dim the other man's arousal and slow things down, and that certainly wasn't what Harry wanted.
Severus moved up and lay atop Harry to cover his body. "I need a little while," he murmured, before lowering his mouth.
Kissing, yeah. That was always good, and this time, as Severus began to grind his hips, Harry felt no sensation of panic, no need to get away. Frottage, yeah. Harry could handle that. His cock even got a bit more interested in the proceedings. All through the fingers-business, Harry's erection had stood at half-mast, at best, but now he was feeling like a healthy young man again, able to please and be pleased, able to come and want to come.
Harry wrapped his arms and legs around Severus and kissed him for all he was worth.
And that was all it took to rouse Severus fully: Harry's enthusiastic, genuine response.
Harry, acting like his lover.
No . . . Harry being his lover.
All that though, didn't change a brief moment of panic when Severus shifted his hips down a bit, and held himself up on one palm as his other hand reached down to grasp his cock, positioning it.
The large head butted up against Harry's entrance. Well-slicked, well-stretched now, his entrance; Severus had prepared him thoroughly. Harry almost screamed, but managed to just clench his teeth. A vision flashed before his eyes. Bole, Talmadge, leering . . . but that was completely wrong, of course. It was a scene from his nightmares, not from real life. He hadn't been able to see their faces, not during.
But he could see Severus'.
Harry opened his eyes wide and stared into the other man's dark eyes.
"All right?" Severus asked.
Harry wanted to hit him. Of course it wasn't all right! But equally true was that Harry wasn't going to utter a word of protest. Not even a peep, not if he could help it. "Yeah, sure," he said in a tight voice. Best he could do, since Severus was making him talk. For the first time, then, Harry sensed that there was such a thing as taking too much care. And the implications of that made him angry. More than angry. "What do you think I am, a girl? A china doll that'll break in half? I'm a man, damn it, and if you don't treat me like one, I'll--"
Actually, Harry didn't know what he'd do. But he knew what to do, now.
His legs were still wrapped around Severus'. Harry jerked them towards himself, making Severus' cock bump up more firmly in between his arse cheeks. Again, not a great feeling. But Harry could take it.
Severus pushed in, then, and Harry felt the head of that large cock sliding past his entrance and into his body, the motion smooth. The pressure of that cock inside him was unreal; this time, Harry hadn't had a numbness spell to take away the leading edge of sensation. He didn't want one, though. All that mattered was pleasing Severus, and the idea that Harry needed magic to help him bear making love--that wasn't so likely to please him, was it?
One inch, two inches, on and on, Severus moved slowly, carefully inward. Like Harry indeed might break, but Harry wasn't offended. The cock inside him was huge, and until Harry learned to take it, an abrupt lunge forward sounded like a distinctly bad idea.
The cock inside him suddenly stopped pressing forward, Severus pausing to exchange a few slow, wet kisses with Harry. Letting Harry get used to his size, his girth, Harry thought. That idea was a very good one, and not just because physically, Harry needed time to adjust. The pause underlined something else for Harry.
Bole and Talmadge hadn't stopped for anything.
But then, they'd been trying their best to make Harry cry. Not that Harry had.
"Yeah, good," Harry murmured as Severus lifted his head. "Really. Don't worry about me."
He might not have spoken so confidently if he'd known what it would feel like when Severus pushed his cock through that ring of muscle all the way, to lodge it fully inside Harry's body. The burn, the size, the pressure--it was almost too much. Harry gasped and clutched at Severus' shoulders, his nails raking slight furrows in the skin, but he felt like he needed to be doing something more to release the intense discomfort in his arse. All the way in his arse.
"Bite my shoulder," said Severus, dropping down more fully atop him.
Harry did, though he was careful not to lose control. He didn't want to take a chunk out of Severus' skin.
Severus paused again when he was fully inside Harry, and kissed him for a while longer before he began to slide back and forth inside him. Not full strokes; he wasn't plunging back and forth. In some sense of the word, he wasn't even fucking. It was more like he was coasting on pleasure, making little noises in the back of his throat as his hips moved slightly to shift the angle of his cock.
Harry concentrated on his face, on his hair, on his dark eyes, and tried not to let much show on his own face. He didn't want Severus to know that frottage was at least ten times better.
It wasn't as though Harry could keep that a secret, though. A man's body gave him away, every time.
As if sensing Harry's thoughts, Severus reached in between their bodies and positioned Harry's cock so it was pointing up, at his face.
Oh. That was better. At some point Harry had got flaccid enough that his cock had flopped down to point at his own balls, but now that it was positioned for frottage, he began to feel more sensation down there.
Actually, this position was a lot like frottage. Well, except for the stretching sensation in his bum. Harry didn't much like that, but he told himself to ignore it and just pretend that he and Severus were rubbing each other off. Yeah, that would work. It was flat, taut belly against his cock instead of another hard cock, but Harry could pretend, right? And if his arse sort of burned still, well, there were always those slight zings he was getting, right? Because Severus was nudging his prostate with every third stroke, it seemed like.
Harry shifted his hips up, thrusting against Severus, just like during frottage.
The moment Harry began responding, Severus' own thrusts grew more bold. More intense. He drew out farther with every stroke, and pushed himself in a little bit more quickly, until at some point, Harry couldn't help but notice that Severus was definitely fucking him.
Fucking him thoroughly, in fact.
It wasn't bad by then. Severus had a big cock, but after all that preparation and then Severus' slow caution as he'd first begun, Harry felt sort of loose and limber down there. It didn't hurt any more, either, other than a kind of low, slow burn, like a twinge of discomfort. Really, on a physical level it was all right, if not exactly thrilling for Harry.
If he thought of it as frottage, he even got a burst of pleasure now and again. Not as much as real frottage gave him, but enough that Harry could moan a little bit from time to time and act like he was enjoying himself.
The best thing about it was probably the part that surprised Harry most. He wasn't thrown back into the past, not the way he'd expected to be. He'd thought it would be like it had been with Compulsio, with Harry wishing every second that he could be somewhere else. But no, this was all right. Doable . . . A lot of that had to do with Harry keeping his eyes open, he thought. Severus' were closed a lot of the time, but Harry kept staring up, keeping himself focused on dark hair and pale skin. Keeping himself in the here and now, where he needed to be.
And actually, watching Severus was a pleasure in of itself. The way his jaw clenched as he thrust in, the way his mouth would part every time Harry thrust up to meet him. Half-way through, Harry reached up a hand and began tracing Severus' features, wanting to memorize that look of pure animal delight that filled them. The moment his finger brushed the other man's lips, though, it was taken into Severus' mouth and suckled, Severus working on it the same way he'd worked Harry's cock, earlier.
That made Harry's cock stiffen, actually, and made him jerk his hips up more sharply to meet Severus' thrusts.
So of course, Severus kept on laving his finger.
The one thing Severus didn't do was ask Harry a hundred and fifty more times if he was all right, or if this thrust or that thrust was too hard and pounding. Severus just fucked him, which Harry appreciated, because it meant he wasn't being treated like he'd break in half. Of course, neither was he being pounded into the mattress. Severus wasn't fucking him with abandon, as far as Harry could tell. Even though he was pulling almost fully out of Harry on each stroke now, and pushing in just as fully, he was being a little reticent about it. A little careful.
Harry appreciated that, too.
Harry wasn't sure just how long Severus kept up his steady strokes. He just knew that it seemed to take a long time for the man to come. Odd, really. The way Severus had talked about wanting Harry to bottom, Harry had been pretty sure that Severus would find this too exciting to bear for long. But then, Severus had done this plenty of times before. It wasn't a new, exciting experience for him. And it wasn't one for Harry, either, because it just wasn't that exciting, full stop.
But finally, Severus got a look on his face that was unmistakable. Harry knew, he just knew, that the other man's toes were curling.
"I'm going to-- I'm going-- I can't stop--" gasped out Severus in a throaty voice.
As if Harry wanted him to stop. Really, he was ready for this to be over. He might be nicely stretched out down below now, but if this went on too much longer he knew he'd be getting sore, all the same.
Harry wrapped his legs more tightly around Severus and urged him on. "Yeah, go on and come," he said, and then, because that didn't sound very arousing when he heard it emerge, he tried again. "I want you to come, Severus. I want to feel you shuddering with it--"
That was all it took. Severus hissed a breath in through his teeth, and then his whole body snapped rigid for an instant. And then his hips were jerking, driving into Harry with a new kind of force that he thought would leave him a little sore, after all. But that was all right. It wasn't like he was hurt or anything. And it didn't take long, less than a dozen thrusts and Severus grunted and stiffened, before halting his thrusts.
Afterwards, Severus rolled off him and stroked a hand down Harry's hip, his fingers toying with Harry's cock, still not fully hard. "That was . . . " Harry saw the man's cheek contract a little, like he was fighting a tick. "I wish you could have found that more enjoyable."
Harry shrugged. "It was all right. I mean, I'd be fine doing that again. As much as you want."
Severus' lips twisted. Both of them. "I'd still rather you enjoyed it more."
"Well, maybe that'll come."
"You didn't."
"Come?"
"Yes, come!"
Harry had known he wouldn't. That it had been foolish to even think he could. "Look, isn't it supposed to be true that sex gets better with practice?"
"How would you know a thing like that?"
Harry wasn't sure. From Hermione, maybe. "Does it matter? I just think--look, you're expecting too much." Frustrated, Harry sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe because every other kind of sex seemed to snap into place for us without much trouble.Well, once I was ready to let it. So this takes a while longer, right? Big deal."
Severus sighed as he leaned over to collect the pillows Harry had knocked off earlier. "You're right, of course. You did remarkably well, considering everything."
"Yeah." Harry nodded. He almost added that he wasn't going to get sick to his stomach, this time, but decided at the last second that reminding Severus of that wasn't so helpful.
Perhaps the other man had it in mind, anyway. "Do you need a pain potion or muscle relaxant or . . . any sort of potion?"
"No. I'm fine, really."
"I'll finish you off, then," said Severus, yawning a bit. It was quite late, Harry thought.
"No, that's all right--"
"I insist. What would you like most?"
Harry really wasn't very interested in sex by that point; he felt like tea that had been brewed too many times, or something. But he knew Severus, and he knew that the evening wasn't going to be nearly as satisfying for the other man if Harry didn't come at all. "It's pretty late, but I need a bath, I think. Why don't you come in with me and bring me off in the water?"
One warm bath, and lots of lube later, Harry tumbled back into bed feeling relaxed and sated. The soak had helped his bum, too. Not that he'd been sore, exactly. He'd just been able to tell that he'd been fucked up the arse recently. He could still tell that, actually, but the sensation was much more muted, now. And anyway, the main thing he was feeling was relief. He'd done it. He'd bottomed. He'd pleased Severus.
Harry yawned as he snuggled up against Severus to sleep.
The other man's voice was tentative. "You sound . . . happy?"
Harry thought about that for a moment. "Yeah, think I am. At least I know for sure now that I can do it."
"But you didn't enjoy it."
Severus was like a wizard with a new wand, Harry thought. He couldn't let it go. Which was to his credit, maybe. But it was a little annoying, so Harry wasn't sure. "I did enjoy it," he insisted, which was overstating the case. By a lot. But he hadn't hated it from start to finish or anything, so he thought the claim was true in spirit, at least. "I just didn't come. And listen, I may be new to this but I know enough about sex to know that people don't always have to. Don't worry, Severus. It'll get better."
"Yes, it will."
Severus said that in a solemn voice, almost like a vow. Harry should have been reassured by that, he knew. But he wasn't. It sounded to him like he was in for it, like next time, Severus was going to try even harder, which would just make things last even longer.
Harry shivered, but then he made himself think pleasant thoughts . . . so he could get to sleep.
He'd done it. He'd bottomed, and Severus had enjoyed it. That was all that mattered. He drifted off to sleep, feeling good about that, at least.