Birthday Wish Fulfilled for: purplefluffycat
From: A Miraculous

Title: Sherbet lemons
Characters/Pairings: Albus Dumbledore/Severus Snape
Rating: NC - 17
Kinks/Themes Included: Courtship
Other Warnings/Content: fingering, anal, light D/s
Word Count: 3400
Summary/Description: Severus can’t help but wonder if Albus tastes like those sherbet lemons he loves so much.



Severus paced in front of the fireplace, twirling his wand between his fingers as he waited for the minutes to tick by, for the door to open, for the evening to begin. It was already an hour late. He was a grown man, for Merlin’s sake. Why would something so normal make him nervous?

Granted, he didn’t exactly have the best track record. In fact, the entire endeavour, all nearly fifteen years of it, had left much to be desired.

It had started, of course, after the end of the first war. Severus had been young, and petty, and stupid, and he had got in way over his head. But then, just when he thought everything was lost, when he thought he had burnt every bridge, broke every person’s trust, destroyed everything he could ever care about, someone had reached out to him, for whatever the reason, and pulled him out. And instead of rotting in Azkaban, where he probably belonged, he had been given a new life.

Albus had seen him, the real him, stripped of all the layers, all the masks, all the lies. And he had decided he was worth something still. How could anyone not feel grateful, perhaps even indebted, to the one person that gave him hope?

And so, for the first time in his life, Severus had made an effort. An effort to earn that faith, an effort to turn the doubt he could still see in Albus’ eyes into trust. He didn’t care what anyone else thought of him, what any of them said. Right then, only one person’s opinion mattered.

For months after the fall of the Dark Lord he risked his life every day, tracking down old allies all over the world and getting proof of their crimes for the Ministry. Anything Albus asked, he did. But it wasn’t until the last of the trials was over that he realised why.

That day, in the Headmaster’s office, Albus had sat down in front of him, his eyes clear and lively, his lips twisted just so at the corners, and he had reached forward, pushed his little bowl of sweets towards him, and said, “Sherbet lemon?” And in that moment Severus felt something he had never felt before. Someone’s approval.

It was only reasonable, of course, that he would endeavour to feel it again. And again. From that day on, anything Albus wanted, he did, anything he needed, Severus provided, even when he wasn’t asked. And every time, he would get that same satisfied look, and Albus would smile, he would reach into the bowl, or into one of his pockets, and would once again offer, “Sherbet lemon?”

The door to his rooms opened, startling Severus, and he turned to find a house elf by the door, looking timidly at him, voice barely a whisper as he delivered the message. Apparently Albus had been delayed at the Ministry, and was running late. Of course.

Severus poured himself some firewhisky and sat down in his favourite armchair to wait. It would be all right, it had to.

Their first ‘date’ had been a disaster, of course, but that had mostly been Severus’ fault.

His feelings for Albus had changed over the years. He had once thought of him as a mentor, someone who believed in him when nobody else would, someone he wanted to make proud, to impress.

Then he became a friend, a man who saw him for who he was and accepted that. And he saw Albus for what he was, too, not the twinkly-eyed old man everyone seemed to love, but the strong, incredibly powerful wizard that barely restrained himself when angered, the man with enough power and influence to change the course of history if he chose to. The man that hid all that behind a benevolent smile. It was liberating, not to have to wear masks, knowing the other person was just as bare.

But the times he did see Albus let go of his control, the times he saw him show his power, those were glorious. And the way he looked at Severus, no trace of distrust, no fear of betrayal, well, that did something to a man.

Even after he acknowledged those feelings to himself, Severus did nothing. Not in front of Albus, in any case. The privacy of his bedroom was an entire different matter.

Late at night, he wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of that intensity, what it would be like to give him pleasure, to watch him come undone. He wondered what he would look like, if he would be able to keep that tightly reined control, or if he would let go. He wondered what Albus would do to him, and knew he would do everything the man asked, anything he wanted. All for that look of approval.

He wondered if Albus tasted like those sherbet lemons.

And so came that fateful first date. Only Severus wouldn’t dare call it that. How did one have that conversation with his employer, his friend? Severus had called it a meeting instead, used work as an excuse, and waited that summer evening at the Leaky Cauldron in his best robes and perhaps the hint of a nervous smile. And twenty minutes after the appointed time Albus had arrived. And so had Minerva, and Flitwick, and Poppy. And half an hour after that the Weasleys had walked in, seen them, and joined their table. Just perfect.

It had taken Severus nearly a year to try again, and this time he had used a different excuse. Pretending to be interested in advanced Transfigurations, he had asked Albus to join him at Tomes and Scrolls to recommend some books, hoping the endeavour would take long enough that he could suggest Albus join him for dinner before returning to Hogwarts. Which, surprisingly, had worked. Unfortunately, the conversation had remained purely professional, with so many things about the school that needed to be discussed. But still, it was an improvement.

After that was the time he joined Albus and the students on a trip to Hogsmeade. Even the unruly children couldn’t ruin his mood as they visited Dogweed and Deathcap for some potions ingredients, then Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop for some parchment and quills, and even stopped at the Hog’s Head for some butterbeer, although that did somewhat dampen Albus’ mood. But Severus was sure to make up for it with a quick stop at Honeydukes for a special order to restock Albus’ quickly dwindling sherbet lemons supply.

Severus made sure to use every opportunity that presented itself to spend time with Albus, and even created a few ones himself, but still he had no idea how to actually broach the subject of his feelings. In fact, lately he had been getting the distinct impression that they were wholly one sided. Albus never said anything overtly, of course, but they seemed to be spending less and less time alone, much to Severus’ frustration, and even when they did spend time together, the conversation tended to stay well away from any personal topics.

In time, Severus all but gave up, deciding to keep his feelings to himself. He might be brave, but he was not foolish, and he wasn’t ready to risk what he now had with Albus for any reason. Especially with a new war brewing.

Then came that fateful night, the Quidditch World Cup raid. Severus had been badly wounded and had only barely made it back to Spinner’s End, using the last of his strength to send a message to Albus, the one person he could trust.

When Albus had arrived, Severus had been delirious from the effects of the spells, unable to speak, to tell Albus what had happened, or what he had been cursed with. So Albus, of course, had delved into Severus’ mind, trying to find out for himself. And there had been nothing Severus could do to stop him, nothing he could do to control the images that floated to the forefront of his mind, so the second Albus leaned close enough, the second Severus could smell those damned sherbet lemons in his breath, the one thing that took over his brain was the memory of one of many long, lonely nights in his bed, his hand around his cock and his tongue around one of those sherbet lemons Albus always gave him, as he imagined it was Albus’ mouth he was tasting, Albus’ hand he could feel around his cock. As he groaned Albus’ name as he came.

The next day, Severus had awoken healed and alone, and it had taken him a few minutes to remember what had happened. What Albus had seen in his mind. Severus had spent the next week at home, with the Floo locked and the doors warded, and a part of him had hoped the ground would part right under his feet and swallow him whole.

But soon it was time to return to Hogwarts, the start of a new school year. Severus had faced certain death, had faced Dementors, had faced the Dark Lord himself; he would not be ruled by fear now. Albus knew the truth, even if he hadn’t spoken -or written- a word to Severus in a week, and it was time to face whatever came, whether that was rejection or possibility. He had to know. He’d waited enough.

The Start-of-Term feast had taken an eternity that night, and Severus had made his very best to pay attention to the students, the welcoming speech, the Sorting Ceremony, to clap when appropriate and glare whenever the students became too loud. And all through the night Albus wouldn’t spare him a glance.

Torn between anger and worry, he had waited until the students were on their way out of the Great Hall to approach Albus, who seemed to have the same idea.

“Severus,” he said pleasantly, “I believe we have a few matters to discuss.”

“Yes, we do,” he said, trying to decide whether Albus approaching him was a good or a bad thing.

“Dinner then, tomorrow evening?”

“I…” Severus started, then groaned and stumbled back as two first years ran straight into him on their way out.

“Wonderful,” Albus said with a smile. “It’s a date.”

He was so distracted, it took him a second to make sense of Albus’ words.

Severus sat in his armchair, still alone, forty-five minutes after the house elf had announced Albus’ delay. He was down to his third glass of firewhisky. His robes, pristine not long ago, were now strewn over the back of a chair, the first few buttons of his dress shirt were undone, the sleeves rolled up all the way to his elbows. He was hungry, but he refused to call the house elves for food, even though by now he figured the date would be rescheduled.

The date. The sixth one, officially. Not that he was counting.

Whenever he had imagined Albus in a romantic situation, he had never figured him for an old-fashioned wizard, although he supposed it made sense; he had been raised in the old traditions, after all.

That ‘first’ date, the night after the start of term, had been like a return to their old friendship. Albus had said nothing of what he had seen in Severus’ memory, and he had followed suit. Instead, they had spoken about their families, their childhoods, their work. It had been comfortable, and promising at the same time. There was something different in the way Albus spoke, in the way he behaved, as if he wasn’t holding anything back any more, as if he wasn’t keeping Severus at a distance.

By the fourth date frustration had begun to take hold. He enjoyed spending time with Albus, but they had been friends for years, and as much as he relished their time together, a part of him needed more. Every time he took one of those sherbet lemons, he wanted to know if they tasted like Albus.

The fifth date had been in public, and he had been grateful for that. He wasn’t sure he would be able to behave in private, damned the consequences. Albus seemed to have taken over his dreams, with vivid images of everything Severus hoped he would do to him, but what Albus seemed hardly interested in.

Then Albus had suggested they meet in Severus’ quarters for their next date, where they could dine and relax and not be disturbed. And Severus had been walking around Hogwarts with a stiff cock since. Which did not make for a very good mood.

Finally, nearly two hours after the last message from Albus, close to midnight by then, the door opened, and Albus stormed in, face grim, eyes fiery, and magic crackling all around him. And like a deer caught in headlights Severus froze on the sofa, sherbet lemon caught between his lips, and his fist caught inside his trousers.

Neither moved for a few seconds, then Severus’s tongue slid the sherbet lemon back into his mouth, and he was sure he heard Albus groan.

“I assumed we would reschedule,” he managed, as he unwrapped his hand from around his cock as gracefully as he possibly could.

“Don’t,” said Albus, his eyes fixed on Severus’ hand, his tone one he hadn’t used with him in years, and Severus felt his fist tighten around his cock at the words. “I’ve been thinking about it long enough. It’s time I see it.”

Severus wasn’t sure what to do, but when a flick of Albus’ wand parted his trousers to give him a better view, he –or perhaps the firewhisky- thought, to hell with it, and did as he always did. Whatever Albus told him to.

Albus made his way to the other armchair and sat facing Severus. Watching. He could almost feel the heat of his eyes on his skin, and that little twist of his lips, that little smile of approval on Albus’ face, well, that certainly did things to him.

“Take off your clothes.”

Severus used his free hand to reach for his wand.

“No,” Albus said, his voice firm, his expression stern, so instead of using his wand, Severus let go of his cock, and tried to control his trembling fingers as he slowly undressed.

“Come here,” was the next command, and once Severus stood naked in front of him Albus leaned back, and Severus knew he wanted him to step forward, to straddle his lap. So he did.

“Touch yourself,” said Albus, and Severus had his hand wrapped around his cock before he had time to think.

The back of his fingers slid against the front of Albus’ robes, and he felt Albus’ cock, hard as his own, straining against the fabric, and he groaned at the knowledge that this was affecting Albus as much as it was affecting him. So he tilted his hips forward, tried to increase the pressure against Albus, tried to give back some of the pleasure he was receiving.

Then Albus’ hand was in Severus’ hair, yanking his head back, and when his mouth parted in a moan, Albus slipped a sherbet lemon past his lips, his fingers staying pressed against his lower lip as he watched, and Severus’ tongue ran over those fingers of its own volition, ripping another groan from Albus’ chest. And that was the last straw.

Severus’ eyes closed, his head thrown back, his tongue playing with the fingers in his mouth, his cock pulsing in his fist, and he came all over his hand, and his chest, and Albus’ robes, and he couldn’t give a damn.

Finally his breathing steadied and he opened his eyes. The way Albus was looking at him was enough to make his cock twitch.

“Every time I give you one of those sherbet lemons,” Albus said, in a trained voice, “the way you wrap your lips around it, the way you twirl it with your tongue. Do you have any idea what it does?”

Severus was too exhausted, and too dumbfounded to reply, so he didn’t.

“It makes me hard, every time, thinking about what it would feel like to have your mouth…” Severus ran the tip of his tongue over his lips, and heard Albus moan. “There will be time for that, later. Now I need to be inside you.”

It was Severus’ turn to moan now, his cock once more twitching at the thought. “Do you want that?” Albus asks.

Severus could only manage a whispered, “Yes.”

“Then get yourself ready,” he commanded.

Severus leaned back, ready to summon his wand, but another firm no from Albus stopped him. So instead, he ran his hand over his chest, gathering as much of his own come as he could, and reached down between their bodies, slipping a finger inside himself. It had been so long since the last time he had anything inside, and with Albus so close, and the scent and taste of sherbet lemons all around him, it was almost too much to bear.

He leaned up onto his knees to make room for his hand, and rested his forehead on Albus’ shoulder so that he could look down at Albus’ hands on the armrests, fingers white from the pressure, and Albus’ cock, hard enough that the outline was visible through his robes, and his own cock, hardening again, and his hand under it, fingers pushing his own come inside, one, then two, then three, and every muscle in his body seemed to be vibrating, straining as he did what Albus asked.

Finally, thankfully, one of Albus’ hands wrapped around his wrist, stopping his movements. “That’s enough,” he said, and his voice was strained.

With a groan of relief, Severus reached for Albus’ robes, staining them even further as he undid the clasps, opening it only just enough so that he could get to what he wanted. Albus’ cock was thick and hard, and pulsed in Severus’ hand as he stroked it. But he was too far gone for games, so in a matter of seconds he had it slick with what was left of his come, and then he tilted his hips forward, burying Albus’ cock inside him to the hilt. The stretching hadn’t been enough, and it made it just perfect.

Severus fucked himself on Albus’ cock, and Albus thrust up into him to increase the force, the depth, but in between them stood Severus’ cock, straining, untouched, the first beads of come already pooling at the head. And when Severus reached for his cock between them Albus stopped him, forcing his hands against the armrests as he kept fucking him.

Then, when Severus was too far gone to think clearly, too far gone to keep the wards up in his head, Albus slipped into his brain, and suddenly every fantasy he’d ever had about Albus rushed to the forefront of his mind, every dirty thought, every depraved dream, and he knew Albus could see it too. And it was then that he felt Albus lose control, it was then that he felt his thrusts lose their rhythm, and Albus’ hands tightened around his wrists as he came, and Severus followed him not a second later, coming untouched, every inch of his body alive and completely spent at the same time.

He leaned back, moved in Albus’ lap trying to find a more comfortable position, and he felt Albus’ cock twitch inside him. And his own cock twitched in response.

“I might have put a little something in the sherbet lemons,” Albus admitted, as he leaned forward and rested his forehead against Severus’. When he spoke again, his voice was so low Severus barely heard him. “I never knew…All these years…” Then he leaned back and stared right into his eyes. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“I…” Severus started, but before he could get any more words out Albus kissed him, and it was everything he had hoped for and more. And finally he knew. His kisses tasted just like sherbet lemons.