Title: With Me
Author: sdk
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing/Characters: Harry/Severus
Rating: NC-17
Length/Word Count: One-Shot, 1785 words
Warnings/Content: explicit sex
Notes: Written for the snape_potter First Time For Everything Fest and beta'd by the lovely roozetter. <3
Disclaimer: The following is based on fictional characters I don't own doing fictional things in a fictional world I did not create. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: "I can give you more, if you'll let me."


With Me

4

Harry wakes up to an empty bed. He shouldn't be surprised, but he is. He shouldn't be disappointed, but a little bit inside him aches. He rolls over to the empty side and presses his nose to the pillow. It's still warm. It still smells like Severus.

1

The first time isn't what he expects and yet he isn't certain it could have happened another way. He'd found Severus at the Broken Wand, a little out-of-the-way pub off Knockturn, just as he had done for every night the last month. There was no talking this time. No trying to ease down Severus' hard exterior. No sandwiching himself in at the end of the bar and forcing Severus to let him buy a round. They just stared at each other for a heartbeat—maybe two, and then they were here, in Harry's bed, with Harry's knees spread as wide as his pushed down trousers would let them go, and Severus' two fingers slick with barely enough lube thrusting inside him, easing him open.

It burns. Harry fists the covers, buries his nose into the pillows and pushes back into the pain until Severus deems him ready.

He doesn't come while Severus is inside him. He ignores the pressing need and instead focuses on the grip of Severus' long fingers on his hips, his thighs butting up against Harry's arse with each thrust, Severus' long hair raking over his exposed back, and the hot thick length of him sliding inside. When Severus stills and throbs, Harry feels warm all over, and only then does he work a hand between his thighs, only then does he fist himself in short controlled bursts, body shaking between Severus' slackened hands.

Harry is close when Severus' softened cock slips out of him and slides against his buttocks, but he stills as Severus rolls him over, Harry's knees still bound by bunched up boxers.

"Continue," Severus breathes.

It only takes three strokes and Harry shudders through his orgasm, his gaze caught within Severus' eyes.

2

Ron sprays a mouthful of ale over the table. Harry thinks he could have had better timing, but at least he hadn't caught Ron with his cheeks stuffed with chips instead.

"You're taking the piss," Ron says once he's swiped a napkin over the spatter of ale on his lips. Harry stays quiet, just shakes his head.

"I know you saved his life and all--"

"With Hermione's help--"

Ron waves him off. "Yeah, yeah. And you worked for a year to clear his name and got him a medal and everything—not that the bugger showed up for the ceremony--"

"Did you expect him to?"

Ron waves Harry off again. "I wasn't the one bothered, if you remember, but still—Snape? Of all the ex-Slytherins I'd expect you to pull, Snape would be at the bottom of the list."

"What, even after Slughorn?"

Ron's mouth twists comically. "Don't give me nightmares—not that you haven't already, mind."

"Not like I gave you details, though I could, if you insist--"

"No, no, no—and if you could be a mate and wipe that sappy smile off your face as well--"

Harry tries to fight the heat rising to his face but he has the feeling he hasn't been all too successful.

"It's just shagging. It's not like—it's just shagging," Harry says.

Ron turns a keen eye on him—reminiscent of Hermione or Mrs Weasley, Harry isn't certain—and leans back into his chair.

"If it was just shagging, you wouldn't be telling me."

Harry coughs. He bunches the napkin on his lap, then forces his fingers to relax.

"Just wanted to see the look on your face, that's all."

"Right," Ron says. He isn't convinced, Harry can tell, but he mercifully changes the subject.

3

They don't talk. Not really. They meet at the Broken Wand at first, and then after a month, Severus just shows up outside Harry's door, eyes glittering beneath the flickering street lamp. Harry holds open the door and Severus strides inside, headed straight for Harry's bedroom.

They don't need words.

But this time Harry's heart is jumping too much to ignore, and when Severus pushes him to his knees on the bed, Harry rolls to his back before Severus can get started.

They're both naked. It's one of the rare times they've managed to wait until all their pesky clothes are out of the way. Harry's legs fall open. His eyes follow the line of Severus' skinny chest, over the spattering of wiry black hair, along the line of his neck, until he reaches Severus' eyes. Severus almost looks surprised.

Harry bends his knees and displays himself, all too keenly aware of the heat flushing up his chest.

"I can give you more, if you'll let me," Harry says. His mouth is dry, but his words hang crystal clear between them in the darkened bedroom.

Harry spreads his knees wider and waits. He can feel his pulse jumping in his neck, hear his heart knocking against his chest in the silence.

Then Severus responds, but not in any way Harry was expecting.

With a soft touch, Severus eases Harry's legs together and straightens them out on the bed. Harry opens his mouth—to say what, he doesn't know—maybe take his words back, as if that were possible, but Severus silences him with a look. He climbs on top, knees snug against Harry's thighs, and Harry's flagging erection comes to life anew, grazing against the cleft of Severus' buttocks.

"Show me," Severus breathes. He skims his thumb along Harry's lower lip, then with a whispered spell, sinks down Harry's length.

The heat is incredible. Harry gasps and grabs onto Severus' hips as Severus braces himself against Harry's chest. Harry wants to say something but his mind is just full of nonsense, of yes—more—please.

He catches sight of Severus' lips curled into an almost grin. There is a tiny bead of sweat rolling down his temple, skimming along Severus' skin. He starts to ride Harry, slow but hard, and Harry's fingers dig into Severus' hips.

5

Harry's still awake when he hears the bed covers start to shift. He's always been awake, though normally he pretends to sleep when Severus' bare feet pad along his hardwood floors. He listens to the rustle of robes and the tightening of boot laces and Severus' quiet even breaths before he slips out of the bedroom door with a soft snick of the latch.

Tonight, Severus doesn't get that far. Harry rolls over before Severus can stand and touches his elbow.

When Severus looks back, Harry's courage nearly leaves him.

"Stay," he says, voice hoarse and far too ragged. He clears his throat and tries again. "Please, stay."

Harry turns and settles on his side once more before Severus can answer, but he holds his breath until he feels Severus shift back into place.

It isn't until Severus' hand comes to rest on his hip, though, that Harry finally relaxes enough to fall asleep, but not before sharing a small, secret smile with his pillow.

6

Ron's talking about Hermione's latest trip abroad in her quest to bring SPEW international attention, and Harry should be paying attention; he should be proud of Hermione's accomplishments and commiserate with Ron, or better yet, distract him from his loneliness but all Harry can think about is Severus.

Or more aptly the fluttering inside him when Severus looks deeply into his eyes every time Harry comes.

"Oi, mate," Ron snaps his fingers and Harry shakes his head in apology.

"Sorry."

"What're you thinking about over there that's more important than listening to your best mate, yeah?" Ron takes a long draw off his ale and Harry is careful to wait until after Ron's swallowed before he answers.

He smiles though, and Ron grimaces. "Never mind. Don't want to know."

"I thought not." Harry looks down at the table. He stares at a chip with which he's been absentmindedly fiddling. "You should probably know that you were right."

Harry glances up. Ron's forehead is crinkled in confusion. "About Severus." Harry's lips form a small smile. "It's more than shagging."

Ron groans and sags in his chair. "This mean we'll be doubling when Hermione gets back?"

A bark of laughter escapes before Harry can help it at the image. "Maybe," he says. Ron is shaking his head, but his groaning turns to laughter as well and Harry beams, feeling lighter than air.

7

Harry wakes up to an empty bed. He rolls over and presses his nose to the pillows. They're still warm. They smell like Severus.

Before the disappointment sets in, the clanging of pans draws Harry's attention. He pulls on his discarded boxers and pads towards his kitchen, then leans against the archway at the sight he's discovered. Severus—in pants and Harry's red apron—has a veritable feast set up on the stove. It smells delicious, but that isn't what makes Harry smile. He quickly controls his expression and coughs, announcing his presence.

"I didn't know you cooked."

Severus spares him only a glance before he begins to plate their meals with eggs and sausage and beans and bacon and toast for each. "It isn't very different from brewing. Both require precision, patience and a willingness to experiment."

He gestures to the table and Harry slides into a seat. Severus hovers for a moment, almost awkwardly, before joining him.

"Guess that's why I never did well in your class. Not very patient," Harry says. He means it as a joke, but catches a flash of Severus' frowning before the expression disappears from his face.

"You are persistent, however," he says. "Also a very...valuable trait." He catches Harry's eye and holds his gaze. "I would submit that you would have had many more successes in my class had your professor been able to set aside certain prejudices."

"Well, you have now, haven't you? Judging by—well, you know--" Harry fumbles around for the right words and Severus' lips quirk upwards.

"Eat your breakfast, Harry."

"I nearly expected you to call me Mr Potter," Harry says with a snort, but flushes shortly after with Severus' words.

"I thought you might be the kinky sort." Severus says. His eyes glitter. Harry wants to throw a napkin at him, but thinks better of it at the last second.

"Are you complaining?"

"Rather the opposite."

Harry's skin tingles with the promise. He takes in a forkful of eggs and they're hot and a little runny, just the way he likes them. "I could get used to this," he says once he's swallowed.

Severus reaches across the table and touches Harry's fingers ever so lightly. "So could I."




-Fin-







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