|montana_dan (montana_dan) wrote in pressie,|
@ 2009-09-25 09:19:00
|Entry tags:||fic, montana_dan, rating: nc-17|
Thank you, DJ
Title: Fighting With Snape
Summary: Fighting with Snape = foreplay. (Enough said)
This was meant to be a Pre-Games Challenge fic, but, as most of my work does, it got out of hand and ended up too long. (pfft, I don’t think it’s in me to do short.) Anyway, I expanded it a bit and now present it to our lovely DJ, who deserves many fics and pics without the need to chase after authors and artists.
Thank you to bitingmoopie for the beta and to joanwilder for all her posting help.
A. Squeaky Shoes; B. A Creaky Old House; C. Hiding
The Shrieking Shack was as run down and dilapidated as the last time Harry had been there – if not worse. Upon entering, the dusty, old smell of rotting wood and mold filled his nostrils. He repressed a sneeze by rubbing his nose and proceeded quietly to the steps. A floor board creaked.
No noise drifted down from above, but Harry knew what was hiding up there. A small thrill shivered through him. The idea of catching the lurker unaware would give him a small amount of leverage. The thought of that satisfaction awakened a stirring in his groin.
He couldn’t help his smile as he took another step up the splintered stair. Still no sound came from the room above. Nothing to indicate the resident of the shack knew of his arrival. It would be a complete surprise. His cock grew thicker in his jeans.
Another step, then another. Still all was quiet. Harry made it to the landing, trying to keep his breathing steady and silent. Not an easy task with his blood flowing quickly through his veins and his heavily pumping heart.
For a month he’d known of the occupant’s refuge in the house. No one else knew. Only Harry. The power that little fact gave him was more significant to him than destroying Voldemort. This was something that was Harry’s alone. He didn’t have to share it; he didn’t have to explain it. If no one knew, no one could question him; no one would care.
He stepped up to the door.
Inside was Harry’s secret; his salvation from grief; his escape from loss.
“Are you going to come in?”
Harry started. Annoyed, he pushed open the door. “You heard me?”
Severus Snape turned from his stance by the sole window of the room. “Your idea of stealth, Mr. Potter, is pathetic. I could hear your trainers squeaking from Hogwarts.”
“You could not.” Harry knew he sounded petulant. Those black brows shot up and Harry sighed. So much for surprise.
“Did you bring what I requested?”
Right to the point. Harry gritted his teeth. No idle conversation or polite greeting. He swung off his pack and rested it on the dustless table.
In contrast to the rest of the house, this room and the adjoining bathroom were completely restored. With Harry’s help, Snape had made the room the equivalent of a well-furnished flat.
Harry dumped the contents of his bag onto the smooth surface as Snape joined him to peruse the items.
Snape sighed. “Potter, I asked for dried toadstools, not fresh. And where is the rest?”
“I didn’t have time to get everything this week. Hermione was getting suspicious. It’s not easy to collect some of the ingredients, you know. Especially for someone who’s supposed to be dead.”
“Potter, these are simple items available in any Potions shop.”
“You think it’s easy just going to the store? I can’t even go to the loo without twelve people knowing about it,” Harry argued, unable to help the bitterness he keenly felt.
“Oh, yes. The fame,” Snape mocked complete with his customary sneer. “I’d forgotten how tragic it must be for you, the Destroyer of the Dark Lord.”
The voice, made deeper by his now healed throat injury, spoke directly to Harry’s softening prick. “Shut up, you greasy bat. You have no idea how hard it is just to get two seconds alone.” He sailed on recklessly, “If you weren’t such a coward you could get the stuff yourself.”
Snape’s eyes hardened and he took a step toward Harry. “I told you never to call me that.”
“Truth hurts, doesn’t it?” he taunted, but took a step back. Snape followed. “You could be free to do whatever you wanted – a hero of the war, but no…freedom scares the piss out of you.”
Snape stopped a foot from Harry, forcing Harry to look up. “I think the truth is that you are the coward.”
“The whole wizarding world wants you to marry Ginevra Weasley and procreate the next generation of Weasleys and it terrifies you.”
He reached out and gripped Harry’s tee shirt with both hands. A muttered curse and a tug rent the shirt down the middle, exposing his chest.
“Because Harry Potter would rather have a thick cock shoved up his arse.” Lowering his hands, he opened Harry’s jeans and shoved them down to his hips, his half-hard cock springing to attention. “Or a hot, wet mouth sucking on his dripping prick.”
Harry swallowed as Snape crowded him against the wall, his hands splayed firmly to keep from reaching out. One of Snape’s palms pressed against his straining erection and he whimpered.
“I dare you to deny it.”
Harry met the black gaze, wondering why they played this little game. They always ended up bickering, which always aroused them. Hell, Harry got hard just heading toward the house – in anticipation.
Snape removed his robes, not moving away from Harry. Harry watched as Severus bared his chest, the lean, pale skin crying out for Harry’s touch. Harry dared not move. He could feel Snape’s breath on his forehead and the movement from Snape’s disrobing sent a breeze over Harry’s aching cock. Moisture dripped from the tip. Snape stopped to watch, his eyes moving over the flesh with more than avid interest.
A sound came from Harry’s throat and Snape returned his gaze to Harry’s face. “No rejoinder, Mr. Potter?”
Harry shook his head so fast his glasses slid down his nose. Snape picked them off his face and tossed them. Harry didn’t care where. He wanted Snape’s hands on him; wanted his thin lips wrapped around his cock.
Snape dropped to one knee before him and Harry moaned. Stained hands fell onto his hips and pushed his jeans to the floor. “No pants, Mr. Potter?”
Harry looked down, his face already hot and bit his lip. One brow rose and Harry dutifully stepped out of his jeans. He didn’t know where they were tossed either. Long fingers ran up the outsides of his legs, returning to his hips where thumbs brushed across the juncture of his thighs. Snape pursed his lips but instead of taking Harry in, he blew across the tip.
Grappling the wall to find purchase, Harry locked his knees. “God, Snape. Do something,” he begged.
Snape loved to hear him beg. Harry heard the chuckle and would have lashed out but that mouth finally sucked him down. Harry screamed out his pleasure, far too early and Snape’s hands on his hips kept him from dissolving into a puddle on the floor.
When Harry opened his eyes, Snape was looking down on him again. Bolder now, Harry reached up and pulled Snape’s head down until their lips met. Opening his mouth to Snape’s kiss, Harry pressed against the taller man, rubbing their chests together with tantalizing persistence.
Snape’s lips moved over his, allowing Harry to taste himself within the texture of his mouth. Firm hands gripped Harry’s arse, pulling him closer so Harry could feel Snape’s still firm desire. Harry moved his hand to open Snape’s trousers but Snape grabbed his wrist.
“Oh, no,” he murmured. “Bed.”
The large bed was almost within falling distance and Harry crawled over the surface to the center. Tossing off the remains of his shirt, he stretched out on his back and tucked his hands behind his head. Snape removed his trousers and tossed them over something too far away for Harry to see. Harry did see the burgeoning erection which he hoped would soon be buried within him.
“No pants, Professor Snape?”
Snape smirked, picked up his wand and waved it at Harry. The cleansing and preparatory spell jolted Harry on the inside and he arched, crying out from pure sensation.
“Any more comments, brat?” Snape said once again looming over Harry’s quivering body. Harry shook his head vigorously. “Excellent.” Snape peered down between them and leaned his hips down so his cock slid decisively against Harry’s renewed erection.
Harry panted, opening his legs wide. He hated that spell. It hastened the process to the point of raw need on his part. Snape’s cock was dark red and dripping so he guessed there was a sense of impatience, even if the bloody sod would never admit it.
Harry fisted the cover with one hand and reached out for Snape with the other. Snape lifted his head and met Harry’s gaze. In reply, Harry bent his knees and angled his hips, that whimpering noise coming from his throat again.
Snape positioned his cock and pressed forward, Harry’s muscles giving way easily after the spell, but Harry wanted more than the gentle intrusion. He opened his mouth to beg but Snape’s lips covered his as a thrust of his hips buried his cock to his balls. Harry’s cry was lost in Snape’s kiss and his breath was stolen in the ravenous caresses of his lips and tongue. Snape’s thrusts continued to pound into Harry, bending him with the exquisite fullness. Releasing Harry’s mouth, Snape pulled up Harry’s legs, changing the angle and Harry arched again and sparks seized his body and coiled in his tightening sacks.
Unable to bear it, Harry wiped his hand on his sweat-soaked stomach and grabbed his cock, stroking it in time with Snape’s thrusts. Climax hit again and he felt Snape still as his channel tightened around the other man. Snape roared out his pleasure, gripping Harry’s thighs.
Sated, Snape fell bonelessly to the bed, half on top of Harry. Harry grunted but didn’t bother moving or commenting. He rather liked Snape sprawled on top of him, one arm limp over his chest.
“Am I crushing you?” The question came muffled from somewhere between his neck and his ear.
Harry grinned, one hand coming around to rest on Snape’s back. “Do you care?”
Harry laughed. “Then, no. Not at all.”
That got a snort but Snape finally rolled to his side, leaning up on an elbow. He reached out toward Harry’s brow but stopped his hand shy of Harry’s face. Harry met the dark gaze and smiled. Seeing it, Snape continued the touch and brushed some fallen hair off his forehead.
Snape’s expression turned bland and he let his head fall back on the pillows. “Time to go, Potter.”
Harry sighed, but nodded. He rolled out of bed and retrieved his scattered clothing. After a futile search for his glasses, he gave up and summoned them. Once dressed, he turned to Snape still reclined on the bed, but he had slid underneath the covers. Harry hated leaving in the middle of the night, but secrecy required discretion.
At his look, Snape lifted his brows.
“So, um, still hiding until next week?” Harry said.
Snape inclined his head, his gaze intense. Harry nodded, grabbed his pack and moved to the door.
“Don’t come back without the rest of my list.”
Harry threw a dark look over his shoulder. “I’ll do my best.”
“And, Potter.” Harry turned from the door. “We are the bravest men in the wizarding world.”
“How do you figure?” he asked, tilting his head.
Snape rearranged the sheet on his lap and peered back with a suggestive look. “Because when – and I stress the word ‘when’ – our secret becomes fodder for the masses, we will both be brave enough to face it.”
Harry offered him a smile and a nod. Snape was right. Even if everyone knew, nothing could make him give up fighting with Snape.