|snarryhols (snarryhols) wrote in snarry_holidays,|
@ 2008-11-30 18:01:00
|Entry tags:||fic, giftee: jadzialove, rated: nc-17|
Fic: To Perish Twice
Title: To Perish Twice
Word Count: 5k or thereabouts
Warnings: forced bonding, epilogue-compliant (more or less), happy endings
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Severus had had five years of very bad sex with Potter, once a year and regular as clockwork – he wasn't about to go on like that for the rest of his life.
Author's Notes: Thanks to S and R for the beta, and apologies to Robert Frost for butchering his poem. :) I hope that I managed to hit at least some of your kinks, jadzialove, and that you enjoy this! A very Snarry Holiday to you!
The "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door of room eleven had been the same every year for the past five years. Severus reached up and pushed away the hair that had fallen in front of his face, tucking it behind his ear, and straightened his shoulders before he reached for the doorknob.
It glowed red – a warning sign. It always happened, and Severus stopped before his hand was even close to the knob. Potter did like to test him.
There wasn't much that Severus could do without his wand. A few nonverbal charms, a mild hex or two – he could manage most of the simpler potions, but life was limited for a wizard without a wand.
Clenching his hands into fists at his sides, he focused. Magic was will and work and focus, and he still had plenty of that. In the end, a snake was a snake.
A snake was a snake, even if it was a smaller snake, and Severus coiled around himself in his Animagus form, just as small as a garter snake. He slid under the door and emerged into the room, hissing as he shifted back into his human form.
"Potter, of all the bloody–"
"You came." Potter was sitting on the bed. He'd already taken his shoes off, and his sock-clad feet were kicking one of the legs of the bed, scuffling up dust bunnies with every swing.
"Every bloody year," Severus said. He twisted his neck, working out a kink in his spine, and settled himself back into his body. The colours of the room were more vibrant and the smells were flatter, less metallic.
"I didn't think–"
"You never do."
Potter had worked the duvet off the bed, already making a mess – he'd balled it up in his fingers, redistributing the feathers and sending a few of them flying through the air. Severus's nose twitched. "If you would stop that–"
"I'm the one doing you a favour here, Snape."
"And the Gryffindor Golden Boy, perfect hero and saviour of the wizarding world, is gracious about it. As always."
Severus stalked closer to the bed, circling around Potter as if he were prey. "Why don't you say 'bugger off,' Harry? Then I could have the pleasure of a witty comeback ... at least I'd get something out of the evening."
When Severus came too close, Potter shot out a hand and captured him by the wrist. It was his left arm, and Potter held his wrist, circling it with his fingers, while he pulled the sleeve up and bared the faded Dark Mark on Severus's arm. "This," he said, tracing the outline of it, "is why you don't deserve any pleasure, Snape."
Potter's fingernail scraped Severus's skin, just at the tender junction of his elbow. He hissed, and Potter dropped his wrist.
"Let's get this over with," Severus said. He put one hand on either side of Potter, leaning in until Potter reclined back onto the bed, inching away from him. "I've got better places to be tonight."
Potter froze, as he always did. He refused to meet Severus's gaze. "I'm sure," he said. "You must have a busy social life."
Severus was close enough to kiss him – instead, he licked a line from Potter's collarbone to his jaw, breathing on the wet skin before he moved up to nibble on Potter's earlobe. "Indeed," he said. "You've no idea."
Potter's hands were on Severus's wrists again, his fingers splayed to cover as much of his skin as possible. His thumb was pressed against Severus's pulse-point, and he drew in a deep shaky breath. "How do you want to do this?"
Severus pulled away from him, taking a step back and beginning to unbutton his shirt. "You've read the contract, Potter ... at least, I assume you read it when you signed it. I assume that you know how to read, but I may be mistaken there. Your marks in my class never suggested otherwise."
Severus had survived thus far – it would take more than one word from Potter to wound him. "You are incorrect," he said lightly. "My mother and father were married well before my birth."
Shivering, Potter stripped off his shirt and dropped it to the floor. It lay on top of his shoes, rumpled and white. "It's a figure of – bloody hell, Snape, just come to bed."
"With pleasure." Severus paused and then smirked. "Or not ... unless you've been breaking the contract in order to practice your technique this past year."
Potter's skin was pale and warm, and always a pleasure to explore – he hissed whenever Severus touched him, when fingers circled his nipples, when a mouth latched on to his skin and sucked.
"Fuck," he said when Severus pushed down his pants and began to stroke his cock, teasing it to full hardness.
"That is the general idea, yes."
Potter pushed his hand away and squirmed out from under him, standing and forcing Severus to move a step away from the bed. They were almost the same height now – and the half-inch Potter lacked in height, he made up for with muscle.
Touching his bicep, Severus ran one finger along it, and then touched the flat plane of his stomach. "They don't let the Head of the Auror department get flabby, do they? Or is that the work of your vanity and after-hours Quidditch practice?"
Potter put both his hands on Severus's shoulders, forcing him back against the wall. He stepped up until they were pressed together, skin to skin, and his breath was hot on Severus's neck. "I married you to save your worthless soul, you git. Can you leave off insulting me for an hour?"
"If you think it'll take that long, you are vastly overestimating–"
Dropping his hands, Potter took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Let's fuck and get it over with."
Not much that a wizard could do without a wand, but there were a few useful spells that served him still – Severus flicked a finger, and ropes shot out of thin air, wrapping around Potter's wrists and binding them together. He marched Potter over to the bed and pressed him down until he lay flat across it.
"You may be straight, Potter," he said. "You may be eternally pining after the youngest Weasley, and you may be bitter about the fact that you were forced to marry another man. But if there is one thing–"
Severus stopped, tapping Potter on the nose with his forefinger. "If there is one thing that I am going to teach you before I die ... at this point, I highly doubt that it will be the fine art of Potions."
Climbing up onto the bed, he straddled Potter and bound his hands to the headboard. "I will, however, teach you how to properly rim another man."
"What? I won't–"
Severus settled over him, his arse positioned over Potter's mouth and his mouth next to Potter's cock. "I'll make it worthwhile for you," he promised, and he started to suck Potter, relaxing his throat muscles and taking him in deep.
After hesitating for a moment, Potter started to suck tentatively at Severus's arsehole, his tongue flickering out at erratic intervals. Severus sucked harder, and Potter whimpered. "Please–"
"What?" Severus asked, pulling back and lazily stroking Potter's cock with one hand. "Has it been an entire year since you've had sexual intercourse, Potter? Are you unable to control yourself?"
"Not just yet." Severus had had five years of very bad sex with Potter, once a year and regular as clockwork – he wasn't about to go on like that for the rest of his life.
He shifted, his cock rubbing against Potter's belly, and said, "Remember, penetrative sex once a year, as per the contract, Potter. Come too soon and you'll be forced to endure two orgasms at the hands of the 'greasy git.'"
"Or," he added, tightening his grip on Potter's cock, "else you'll be forced to let me near your virgin arse. How does that sound?"
"Go to hell."
"That was an option," Severus said, arching his back as Potter lost his scruples and began to suck in earnest. He stroked Potter's cock – light touches, teasing and brief – and kept his voice even as he spoke. "You could have let me go to the Dementor's Kiss, and you chose to save me from that. Condemning me to this hell of a life is nearly as dreadful, I admit, but the fact remains … you could have sent me to hell and chose not to. Surely…"
"Shut the fuck up, Snape." Potter bucked under him – he was bound, but it was the work of a wish for a wizard as strong as he was to Banish the ropes. Severus was caught by surprise, and Potter managed to flip him over, pinning him to the bed. "Not one more word," he said, his lips an inch away from Severus's. "Not one."
He ground against Severus, their hips moving together as Severus arched up to meet him – one thrust, two, and then Potter slipped between his legs. "Need you–" he gasped and then he took a deep breath.
A few thrusts was all it took – Potter was that close to the edge – and Severus let his head fall back, groaning as Potter left him unsatisfied. Better than any other year, but lacking – Potter had no finesse, and was still as skittish as a virgin on her wedding night. Still, it was probably the best sex Potter had had in his life.
Severus opened his mouth to say as much, but Potter cut him off.
"Not one more word from you," he said again. "I won't intervene with the Ministry for you – I don't have your wand and I can't get it for you – I don't care what indignities are heaped upon you daily – just … fuck, Snape…"
"Just go," Potter said. He finished Severus off with a few quick strokes and Banished his come with a wave of his wand. "I'll see you next year."
"Potter," Severus said, half-way to the door. He had picked his way through the scattered piles of clothing, gathering his own with a grimace. "It would make it easier on both of us if you admitted that you enjoyed it, without making a production of it every year."
"A snowflake's chance in hell, Snape. I'll–"
"'Some say the world may end in ice,'" Severus said. He gathered his will and magic, ready to shift to a snake and leave. "Have a pleasant year … and don't forget the fidelity clause in our contract."
The seventh year, Severus's annual 'date' with Potter coincided with the Ministry Gala that celebrated Voldemort's downfall. His owl to Potter was terse and to the point. Take me to the Gala, it said. I'll make it worth your while.
Potter complied, looking sullen in his splendid green robes. "This had better be worth it, you know. I won't–"
Pulling him away from the Apparition point, Severus pushed him up against the wall and silenced him with a hard kiss. "Do you remember last year?" he asked.
Potter blinked, his eyes huge behind his glasses. "Y-yes, but..."
"Better than that."
There were no more protests from Potter after that, and Severus swept into the ballroom with Potter on his arm. The chandeliers were gleaming with fairy lights, the champagne was sparkling, and the music was dreadful, but Severus pressed Potter into his employ at once. "Smile," he said. "Look charming. Make a move toward the dance floor whenever a reporter comes in our direction."
"I don't want to dance with you," Potter said, and the instant that Ginevra bloody Weasley walked through the door, he dropped Severus's arm as if it were a vine from a Venomous Tentacula. "I'll be back."
Ginny Weasley was no threat – happily married, and she had two children, with another on the way – but Potter's friends from Hogwarts were all there. Granger and Weasley, the other two thirds of the unholy trio; Lovegood and Longbottom; the rest of the Weasley clan – Severus bit back a sigh and headed for Potter.
"Harry, darling," he said, making sure that Rita Skeeter was in earshot. "Didn't you promise me the first waltz?"
Potter ground his teeth, but he dropped Ginny Weasley's hand and took Severus's. "Of course.
"Do you have to ruin everything?"
"Do you have to be so juvenile?" Severus aped him, and then shook his head. "Don't answer that."
He led Potter around the floor, steering them around the other dancing couples, and pulled Potter closer when he would have objected. "Pretend to be happy," he said. "There's the reporter from Witch Weekly."
"I am happy," Potter said. "I'm happily thinking of the many ways you could die."
"Tsk, you don't mean that. I am hurt, though."
"Good." Potter's fingers tightened around Severus's waist and shoulder. "Veer left – there's Luna, and she's still wondering how the Wrackspurts saved you from certain death."
After the last of the punch had been drunk and the speeches were over, Severus led Potter out to the rose garden. It was deserted in the moonlight, fairy lights strung up over all of the hidden trysting spots and lighting them with the full glare of daylight – the roses weren't yet open, but the lights shone on their tightly furled buds. Severus picked one, and offered it to Potter.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?"
Potter took the flower and twirled it between his fingers before letting it fall to the ground. "I suppose not, no."
He sat on one of the benches next to the reflecting pool, facing away from Severus. "So ... my place or yours? Or do you want to go back to the hotel room as usual?"
Severus sat next to him, taking his hand and twining their fingers together. "Your place ... next year, I think," he said. "This year ... here."
"Here? You've got to be–"
"I realize that you've had the chance for less sexual experimentation than has the average gnat, Potter, but don't you find the thrill of potential discovery to be somewhat ... titillating?" Severus leaned close to him, his hand moving up Potter's arm to rest on his shoulder, circling him in a half-embrace.
"Anyone could come out here and catch you with ... your ... legally ... wedded ... husband." Severus punctuated each word with a kiss to Potter's jaw, ending with one on his lips.
"I don't want–"
"You do." Severus stopped, one hand on Potter's shoulder and the other on his thigh. Potter was warm in the cool spring air, and he leaned into Severus's touch.
"Tell me that you do or I'll not continue," Severus said, his hand mere inches from Potter's cock. "Tell me what you want."
"This is the garden where we were married," Severus crooned, pulling Potter onto his lap. They sat face to face, and Potter rocked against him, his fingers gripping Severus's shoulders tight. "The place where you rushed in headlong like a fool and decided to save me. You signed your life away, sacrificed it to save mine–"
The garden was dark and quiet, the moonlight shining on Potter's pale skin. He was bright and gleaming like a Patronus, but warm and solid in Severus's arms. He leaned forward to kiss Severus.
It was the first time Potter had kissed him - really kissed him, of his own free will – and he was clumsy and uncertain, but Severus held him close and deepened the kiss.
His cock was pressed against Potter's arse, and when he shifted, Potter moaned into his mouth and clutched him harder. "Please–"
"What do you want?" Severus held him at arm's length, watching his cheeks flush. His hair tousled, his dress robes disheveled – he looked practically edible. Severus licked his lips. He could taste Potter still, the champagne he had been drinking still sweet and fizzy on his lips.
Harry ground against him and reached down to stroke his own cock. "Fuck me–" he said, and Severus was kissing him before he could finish the sentence.
He conjured down blankets and lowered Harry down to the ground, covering him and keeping him warm. Severus gave him long, open-mouthed kisses while he prepared him, swallowing his cries. Slow and gentle – Severus bit his lower lip, summoning his hard-won self control.
Harry thrust up against him, and Severus kissed his breastbone. "Patience," he said. "If you know what the word means."
"Fuck me already, you greasy git–"
Severus moved down and swallowed Harry's cock, sucking and swirling his tongue around it. He came up for a deep breath and glared at him. "If you want anything from me – if you don't want to be bound and left like this to be discovered here tomorrow morning – you won't talk to me like that."
"Please," Harry said, his voice softer. He clenched his hands in Severus's hair, pulling him down again, and Severus relented.
He sucked Harry's cock until he was begging, and only then did Severus slide into him, stretching him further. They were pressed together, chest to chest, Harry's ankles around Severus's shoulders, Harry spread open for him and begging for him.
"You want this–"
"Please–" Harry said, his fingers digging into Severus's arms. "Please."
It was easy – easy to take him, easy to take from him. Severus sank into Harry, body and mind, and it didn't matter that this was Potter, or that he was only here because it had been necessary to save Severus from death and the Kiss. It was sweet to kiss him and it felt fabulous, fucking him, and it didn't matter – nothing else mattered.
Potter's favourite pub was far from the Ministry, away from the reporters and coworkers that plagued him there. Severus had lifted the location from him with a touch of Legilimency during their latest tryst, and he managed to arrive there just as Potter did, bumping into him in the doorway.
"Oh," Potter said, looking flustered. "You – I didn't–"
"I didn't expect to see you here," Severus said. He gestured for Potter to precede him into the pub. "Since we're both here, though ... would you care to join me for a drink?"
"I – sure."
Potter led him to one of the booths in the back, and he shifted from one foot to the other while he took off his cape, swinging it to lie neatly over one of the seats. "I'll ... just go get the drinks," he said. "What would you like?"
"Firewhiskey, neat," Severus said.
Potter drank a pale-gold lager, managing to slop most of the drink over his fingers when he set the glass down on the table. Severus grabbed a napkin and wiped his own glass clean, and then set it down on the dry part of the table. He watched Potter through the blue halo of the flames that rose over the Firewhiskey.
"W-what do you want? Why are you here?"
"What do you mean?" Severus asked, taking a sip of his whiskey. "I came here for a drink."
"You may think I'm a complete pushover, Snape, but I have had to learn Legilimency and Occlumency in the Auror department. I know you were rifling around in my mind when we–"
Potter turned bright red and Severus smirked. "Willing to do it but not to talk about it, Potter? You are a prude."
"I am not!" Potter downed half of his remaining drink and glared at Severus. "Just because I don't – don't–"
"My point, I think." Severus raised his glass to Potter and took another sip. "That being said, I'm here to propose a modification of our standing arrangement."
"You – what? What do you want, Snape? Haven't I given you enough?"
Severus touched Potter's wrist, two fingers pressed against his pulse-point. He felt the flutter of Harry's heart beating just under his skin. "I want more," he said. "I think you want more, too. Do you really want to go on like this for the rest of your life?"
Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "What's it to you?"
Taking a sip of his Firewhiskey, Severus watched Potter blur through the haze of the flames. "It's my life, too," he said. "I didn't expect you to save my life, but now that you have, I will have some say in the life that I live. I don't want to be married to a complete stranger for the next hundred years."
With Potter, Severus had attended the Ministry Gala – had been seen and smiled at, not mocked and reviled. He was still a wizard without a wand, still crippled without his magic, but Potter would find a way to fix that, too. The Ministry did the bidding of the Boy Who Lived.
"It's nothing to me," Harry said. "I'm not going to play happy household with you and argue over whether we have lamb or beef for dinner or whose turn it is to pay the Floo bill, Snape. I wasn't about to see you die, after everything you did to save me, but I'm not going to put up with daily verbal abuse from you, either."
He chugged the rest of his drink and set the glass down with a loud thunk. "I don't fancy waking up with your greasy head on my pillow every day for a hundred years, either," he said. "Fidelity clause or no fidelity clause – I'd rather wank."
Severus took his hand, scraping a fingernail over his knuckles. "I think you know by now that I could … make it worth your while."
Potter shifted in his chair and pulled his hand away from Severus. "That's not the point–"
"That's exactly the point," Severus said. "We could be good together."
"Hell could freeze over."
"As I said–"
"World ending in ice, right, I know. I rather doubt it."
"The other option is fire." Severus leaned across the table until he was a breath away from Potter – close enough to touch, close enough to kiss. "What do you say to that?"
He held up a hand when Potter started to shake his head. "I'm not asking for happily-ever-after," he said. "The occasional dinner, sex more than once a year, the occasional pleasant outing in public so I don't get Howlers from Witch Weekly readers as I did at the Gala. You can say 'no' or stop things at any time."
"God," Potter said. "I need another drink. Fine. Yes. I can't believe I agreed to–"
Severus pushed the rest of his Firewhiskey across the table at him and smirked. "No need to write your epitaph … it isn't as bad as all that."
Severus was at Slug and Jigger's when it happened – a lancing pain in his left arm, sharp and hot and enough to make him stagger, grabbing the counter for support. His fingers ended up in a jar of pickled billywigs, and he trailed slime along the length of the shelf. "Fuck."
His eyes fluttered and he took deep, sharp breaths, trying to steady himself. There were metal spikes in his arm, targeting his Mark – he abandoned his purchases and staggered out into Diagon Alley, into the sunlight. A woman spit on him and he flinched away, ducking into the shadows. His arm hurt.
"Snape." Potter was there at his elbow, one hand on each of his shoulders – he grabbed Severus and held him up. "Are you all right?"
A wizard without a wand was less than a man. Severus was helpless – his fingers twitched, his arm going numb. He couldn't do anything – there was venom seeping into his veins, he could feel it. The darts had been poisoned.
It was the work of a wish and an instant to shift. Small – he wanted to be small – Severus coiled himself around Harry's arm, scales scraping against his skin. No poison – he'd stopper death. He was immune to his own venom, and the reptile metabolism helped–
"Hey." Harry knelt in the shadows, peering at Severus. He put a finger out and Severus stretched for it, resting his head on Harry's forefinger. "Are you okay? Do you need a bezoar? Anything? Where are the bastards that did this to you?"
The snake's metabolism helped, but it wasn't everything. When it was Nagini, it had been easy – Severus was immune to his own venom and hers was the same. This was a foreign poison in his blood.
He curled tighter around Potter's wrist and drew back his head, resting it on its own coils. A nap would set everything to rights.
He was still wrapped around Potter's arm when he woke, and pleasantly sleepy. It was warm and he felt well – a little hungry, perhaps, but the venom seemed to be gone. Severus stretched experimentally.
Potter peered down at him. "Hey," he said, his mouth twisting as he hissed at Severus. "Are you all right?"
Severus flicked his tail, the scales rasping against Harry's skin. Uncoiling himself, he slithered down the arm of Harry's chair and to the floor, shifting once he was on the ground.
"I am well, yes." Severus stretched, massaging his sore arm, and looked around. Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, still dark and dreary – it was Harry's home now, he supposed, if the boy hadn't rebuilt his parents' cottage yet.
"It's of no consequence, Potter." Severus's arm hurt, and his hand ached, his fingers curling where they should have held a wand. "It's happened before, and will happen again, and you've said more than once that I deserve what I get."
"That was before…" Harry flushed.
"Before you saw the benefits of having regular sex? I assure you, I don't expect that to change anything."
"But you were – you could have died."
"My life has been forfeit for twenty years or more, Potter. All men die in the end."
Harry was on him then, tumbling down to the floor and tackling him, his lips mashed against Severus's in a rough kiss. His hands came up to stroke Severus's back. "Don't … I don't want you to die."
"Don't shock me with your professions of undying love." Severus stroked Harry's chin, feeling the stubble rough under his fingers, and traced the curve of his lips. "I might die from the fright ... Harry Potter, concerned for my welfare."
"Don't be a git." Harry put his hands on Severus's arms, pulling him up and helping him to stand. Severus swayed a little and Harry caught him, backing him up against the wall until the world steadied around him.
"What are you–"
"We should get you to bed," Harry said. "You need to rest after–"
Harry's home – Harry's bed. After five years in a hotel room and one year in a Ministry garden, they had come to this at last. Severus held onto the railing for support as they made their way up the stairs, Harry at his elbow supporting him. "Rest isn't the only thing I need," he said, his hand brushing down Harry's back to rest on his arse.
Instead of jumping like a skittish virgin or shrinking away from Severus's touch, Harry only grinned. "Maybe later," he said. "When you're feeling better."
Potter insisted on going to Platform 9 ¾ to see the Weasley brats off to Hogwarts. Severus had only just regained his wand – and it was a comforting weight in his hand, a better feeling than the sight of the Ministry's pardon splashed across all the papers – and he sneered at Potter's sentimentality.
"Don't go because of might-have-beens," he said. "For all you know, one of us might have been dead in the last battle. There's no way of knowing that they'd have been your children, even if you hadn't got the foolhardy notion of rescuing me into your head."
"I want to go," Harry said stubbornly, with his chin tilted at the angle that meant he intended to be stubborn about it. "I didn't have anyone to see me off, my first year, and Ginny's worried that Al will be sorted into Slytherin."
"You shouldn't have encouraged her to pick such a ridiculous name for the boy, then."
Harry shrugged, bumping Severus with his shoulder. "He might have been mine, after all. If things had gone differently."
Severus wasn't about to put up with a soppy, sentimental parting scene at King's Cross – he'd endured much over the years because of Harry, but he did have his limits. He pocketed his wand deftly and reached for the magic that had always been there, using it to shift into his Animagus form.
He went to King's Cross in Harry's pocket, and napped through the reunions and waited until all of the farewells had been said and the train was only a distant shape in the mist. "Let me out," he hissed, his tongue flicking against Harry's linty pocket. "Put me down."
Uncurling on the ground, he shifted and, once human again, backed Harry up against the brick wall that separated the platform from the Muggle world. "I expect some recompense for having suffered through that," he said.
"You slept through it," Harry said, one hand on Severus's neck as he pulled him down for a kiss. "Don't expect anything more than a quick snog and lunch at the Leaky Cauldron."
"I rather think I deserve more."
"You always do," Harry shot back, but he put a hand on Severus's arse, pulling him closer. Even through the layers of cloth, Severus felt Harry's cock beginning to harden, pressed against his thigh. He shifted, frotting against Harry, and pulled him in for another kiss.
"Here?" Harry asked, and Severus pulled out his wand, tapping it over their heads and casting a quick Disillusionment Charm.
"Where else?" he asked, using his weight to pin Harry against the wall. Another charm fixed the barrier in place, keeping them from falling through it.
"Anyone could see us if they looked–"
"See you having sex with your legally married husband, yes." Severus cast a Silencing Charm and then flicked his wand again, Banishing Harry's clothing. "We'll tell them that you were fulfilling your contractual obligation."
"We've – oh," Harry said, gasping as Severus bent his head, sucking on Harry's nipple. He teased it into a taut peak with his tongue, reaching down to stroke Harry's cock. "We've … already done that this year."
"What they don't know won't hurt them." Severus Banished his own clothing and frotted against Harry, taking their cocks together in his hand and stroking. Harry's head fell back against the brick wall, and Severus nibbled on his exposed throat, soothing each nip with his tongue.
"N-no, I suppose not…" Harry held tight to Severus, his fingers gripping hard enough to leave bruises on his shoulders. He spun them around until Severus was the one pressed against the brick wall, and thrust against him harder and faster. "Need you–"
Severus had had twelve years of good sex with Harry, but each time felt better than the last. Here in King's Cross – where anyone could see them, where they had bid goodbye to the Weasleys and their hordes of children, where Dumbledore had once sent Harry back to life – Severus kissed Harry hard as he came.
"'Some say the world may end in fire–'" Severus said. Harry was disheveled and devourable, his lips swollen from Severus's kisses and his skin marked with the bites and bruises of passion. "'...From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire–'"
Harry reached down and pinched his arse. "Enough talk about the world ending, already. I think we can assume it'll go on for the meantime."
"Gryffindors are such eternal optimists."
"Let's skip lunch and go home," Harry said, his forehead pressed against Severus's shoulder. "I'll make it worth your while." His cock was softening in Severus's grip, and he was a heavy, sweaty weight against Severus's body.
"I don't doubt that." Severus Banished the mess with a wave of his wand, restoring their clothing and canceling the wards. It felt good to use magic again – better than good. He steadied himself against the spinning sensation of Apparition by kissing Harry as they went home.
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.