unbroken_halo (unbroken_halo) wrote in pornicators, @ 2004-12-16 13:27:00 |
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Original poster: madameceleste70
This is one of my earliest Snarry fics. Now that I've been in the fandom for more than a year, I'd probably write it a little differently.
Title: If You Hold on Tight Enough, Anything Is Possible
Rating: NC17
Status: challenge fic, complete
Pairings: HP/SS
Warnings: Slash and the use of a broom in a way not intended by the manufacturer
Spoilers: none
Summary: Men and their toys, they are so naughty. Challenge fic with voyuerism and broomstick play
Author's Notes: Part of the From Dusk till Dawn Severus Snape/Harry Potter Fuh-Q-Fest at http://www.kardasi.com/HPSS/storyin
Challenges: Must be exactly 5,000 words. 41.Snape is engaging in some self-love and Harry catches him (Kira), 179. Snape is being a voyeur, he watches Harry playing with his broomstick. How Harry's playing with the broomstick is up to you. (Nika Boadicea) and 87.Sex on a broomstick. Is that even possible? (Kira) Kira's challenge inspired the title!
Beta: The lovely amorette helped me in more ways than she could know. Even as she struggled with her own challenge and her busy RL, she took the time to beta my fic. She is a friend of the comma, pursuer of conflicting verb tenses, and conqueror of ambiguous pronouns (a true hazard in slashy sex scenes.) In my opinion, the fanfic world needs more people like Amorette to make us all better writers.
Disclaimer: We all know they belong to JKR and her band of merry minions.
Just watching the Quidditch referee drives him to slide his bottom along the worn benches in concert with each dip and dive of the broomstick, each movement heightening the exquisite pressure building in his groin. He wants to be gripped between those delicious thighs in the same manner they grip the gleaming ash broomstick. Years of practice allowed him to gain total mastery over his desires. He is so skilled that he can stay at the edge even if a match lasts the entire day. The whistle and the shout of “Hufflepuff wins!” are the signals he has been waiting for all morning long. Only one scene will give him that release he so desperately craves. Now that the benches are clearing, that glorious moment is upon him.
For as long as he can remember, Severus Snape's main source of sexual pleasure has been derived from watching others. He can easily steal moments of pleasure from watching desirable men in any number of alleys, bars, or the like. His stealth, cunning, and meticulous attention to detail have made him a very successful voyeur. He can move about without making a sound. One must be able to be stealthy when patrolling the hall for wayward students out after curfew or when attacking on behalf of your master. He knows every nook of the Quidditch Office, including the exact depth of the shadows and how sound plays against the walls. Knowing your target's routine is essential and Severus knows, down to the second, how much time he has to slip into the office undetected. It had taken a month of planning before he dared one peek at Harry and his broom. This day marks four months of voyeuristic bliss.
An offhand comment by Draco Malfoy, made during his sixth year in school, piqued Severus’ interest in Harry’s post Quidditch indulgences. Hogwarts always has a ready supply of virile young men ready to fuck each other or pleasure themselves. Some corners of the castle are legendary for these encounters. However, Professor Snape keeps his distance from these activities because the price is too dear. A burning desire urged him to spy on the young seeker but his resolve held strong while the boy was a student. It took Harry Potter seven years to return to Hogwarts and that first time he watched was sheer heaven for the voyeur. Now his unyielding, wonton lust for Harry Potter fuels his visits to the Quidditch office after every match. He has been lurking in the shadows for months with no one the wiser. Precisely three minutes after the closing whistle, Severus Snape settles himself in the darkest corner of Harry’s office and waits for the show to begin.
Harry Potter had come into his own during his seventh year, finally shedding the body of an awkward, gangly teenager. Now, at age 25, he could be likened to Adonis. His outward appearance only serves to enhance his beauty and grace; once unruly hair now flows gracefully past his shoulders, the spectacles were abandoned after a simple eyesight correction charm thereby unmasking his vivid emerald eyes , and finely tailored clothing frames his body perfectly. Underneath that clothing is a man that matches Snapes’ height and outweighs him by two stones of perfectly toned muscle.
As Harry undresses, each discarded item reveals another patch of creamy flesh. The cloak, vest, and shirt are always first to go. His broad chest is smooth and supple without a trace of hair, the light skin contrasting perfectly with the tawny nipples. Since the changing room is rather cool, his nipples stand in salute, almost as if they are anticipating the coming event. His rippled abdomen is the perfect stage for the trace of black hair that dips below the low slung trousers. Severus wonders if it is Harry’s thick cock or pert ass that keeps the trousers from falling lower down his hips. As he reaches to remove the boots and socks, his thick biceps ripple with each languid movement. The trousers and pants come off in one swift motion. His body gleams with sweat from the match and it twinkles over each ridge of muscle. His cock swings slightly and his balls slap lazily against his endless, sinewy thighs as he walks toward the shower. As he does each time, he pauses and picks up his precious Firebolt. Harry’s cock knows what comes next and is getting ready. Severus aches to envelope it in his mouth but does not dare move from his spot. He stays in the shadows knowing that Harry will be moaning and writhing in mere moments. It’s those noises that will finally bring him over the edge.
Until four months ago, Severus had never known that a broomstick could be so erotic. Today is no different and every one of the Potions Master’s nerves hum with anticipation. Perhaps watching anyone other than Harry would pale in comparison. Only after Harry mounts his broom does Severus release his throbbing cock from his trousers. He mimics Harry’s gestures with his own fist and pretends he has his own broomstick between his legs to massage the cleft of his wanting ass. Together, yet apart, they stroke and grind themselves into a frenzy of sweat and spunk. Harry screams in jubilation while Severus bites his lip to remain silent. He does not want to risk discovery in his dark corner.
To his surprise, this day brings something new for the voyeur. Harry does not continue to the shower stall per his usual routine. It is barely audible but Severus instantly hardens at the words “lubricous Firebolt.” He teeters at the edge of control as Harry centers the shaft at his entrance. He skillfully teases the puckered hole with the blunt point. The tip is like the delicate finger of a lover, gently plying the ring of muscle to gain entrance. Harry’s hips circle and buck as the nerves start to dance with excitement. With a guttural moan he slides the broomstick into himself. Severus’ ass clenches with want and his knees become weak as Harry angles the Firebolt just so. Harry’s lips part with breathy panting as he finds the engorged gland. Severus has no choice but to ride his own fingers, massaging and caressing deep within himself, as Harry dexterously works the thick part of the handle in and out. The gold lettering winks at him with each thrust, the flashy display mesmerizing the watcher. The Potions Master is so lost in the spectacle that he comes with the softest of moans.
“Oh god, yes, that’s what I’ve been waiting to hear.” Severus panics slightly at Harry’s almost voiceless confession. In the next instant the panic is forgotten as Harry tenses every muscle and squirts his seed across the room. Its scent is like a fine perfume to Severus’ highly trained senses. He licks his lips, wanting to taste it, for he is sure it would taste equally pleasing. One taste would not be enough, he would want to drink it all after one lick. The length of the Firebolt quivers as Harry’s inner muscles spasm around its tip. He throws back his head with a shout that reverberates throughout the room. Normally, one would collapse into a boneless heap after an orgasm of that magnitude. Harry Potter calmly drops his broomstick and advances towards the dark corner near the supply closet. Severus holds his breath tighter with each advancing step.
“I have wondered what it would take for you to make that sound. Had I known, I would have fucked my broom sooner for you. Pity you’ve stood by and watched for so long.” Harry hovers at the margin where light fades into shadow. He looks as though he is staring into nothingness but he knows exactly where Severus likes to stand as he watches. He’d known on the first day but never let on that he was aware of the voyeur. “Take off the rest of your clothes and come out where I can see you.”
“Why?” Severus hesitates for a brief moment before muttering the charm to disrobe.
“Because your cock is so much better than my broom. It’s thick and long the way I like it. I like the way it drips and twitches while it waits for me. It wants me as much as I want it. I need to touch it, taste it, and know it like no other cock in the world.” Harry succeeds in making the Potions Master moan for him. “So, for starters you’re going to fuck me senseless 200 feet in the air.”
With that pronouncement Severus practically leaps into Harry’s arms to claim him. “I must warn you that my broom riding skills are woefully out of date. We shall be risking a fall to our deaths.” Severus teases a nipple as he sucks an earlobe. Harry twitches with anticipation, any more of this and he’d forgo the mid air liaison in favor of a long hard screw under the shower.
“As long as you’re as good at fucking I as think you are we’ll be fine. I’m going to grip your cock so hard that we could fly upside down the entire time you’re in me.”
The cover of darkness, one invisibility cloak, a broom, and two randy professors make for spectacular aerial sexploits. Severus had never mounted a broom naked, much less behind Harry Potter. He nearly comes as he settles himself on the sleek wood. With two on the broom, the Firebolt vibrates slightly from the extra burden every time it goes faster than 60 mph. It is an added bonus rather than an impediment.
Severus traces every muscle on Harry’s back with his tongue and lips as he rolls the man’s balls in his hands. They are firm, heavy and throbbing under his delicate ministrations. He gets the exact reaction he is looking for and soon Harry begins sliding his cleft along the broom. Harry’s hole is pulsing with desire, practically begging for contact, so on his next slide backwards Severus teases the opening with his fingers. Each movement forward and back opening Harry a little more. One, two, and then three fingers stretching and working their magic. Severus’ cock leaks at the sight of what would soon be his.
“Unhhh...fuck me…please…put it in…I need it in...now.” True to his word, as soon as Severus is buried to the hilt, Harry grips him with the tightness of a virgin. Short, sharp thrusts pull their orgasms closer to the surface. Just as they are about to plunge into ecstasy, Severus changes the pace and angle just enough to bring them back down so he can send them higher the next time. Each crescendo increasing their pleasure tenfold as they ride in this pattern for more than an hour. Harry leans back so Severus can reach around and mimic the thrusts on his cock. Severus can’t help but nip at his neck. A thumb caressing the weeping slit is Harry’s breaking point. Clearly defying the laws of nature, Harry clamps down tighter as he comes in great, gushing floods. Severus soon follows with the longest, most powerful orgasm of his life. Each time he thinks it’s over, Harry tightens again and milks more pleasure from him. The two spent men collapse against each other as Harry guides them to solid ground.
“Holy fuck.” Harry can barely say the words as he sucks in great heaving breaths. Severus barely manages a charm to transfigure a leaf into an enormous quilt.
“Holy would be one, of many, ways to describe that Professor Potter.”
“Severus, I do believe we are long past formalities. Harry would be more appropriate given this evening’s endeavors.” Harry molds himself to Severus and wraps them in the warm blanket. It takes all his energy to stay awake long enough to hear the reply.
“So noted. Harry, how did you know I was watching you?”
Harry smirks at the question, “Even the Famous Harry Potter could not hold the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor without knowing how to cast a simple night vision spell. Apparently someone let his lust forgot that I am rather skilled at these types of things.”
“I have come to learn that you are skilled in many ways. Fortunately for me, broom debauchery seems to rank high on the list. Clearly that was left off your curriculum vitae when you applied. The only Hogwarts governor interested in such pursuits died at your hands during the war.”
“Brooms are only the start of it.” As soon as the words pass his lips, Harry Potter nods off to sleep. Severus Snape quickly follows suit with a look of pure bliss on his face. Lucky for them it was the Headmaster who found them on the Quidditch pitch the next morning.
"Come on Severus, just do it for me this one time." Harry pauses between each word to lap at a nipple.
"I will not go to the match bare under my robes. The potential for disaster is far too great. I will not risk being made a fool in front of my house and their parents." Severus urges Harry’s head further down towards his groin. He wants to be fully engulfed in that sweet mouth. His cock has its own love affair with Harry’s talented tongue and it is growing impatient with the unrelenting negotiations. "Albus so graciously overlooked our sleeping arrangements after our last escapade on the pitch. I highly doubt exhibitionism at a Quidditch match would receive similar treatment."
“Albus has overlooked a good number of things since my first year as a student.” Harry nips and licks, tracing lazy circles along Severus’ abdomen.
“Don't remind me. Mmmmm. It’s not your balls that will be left swinging in the breeze if something goes wrong.” Severus wants to make Harry look up at him, to make the young man see how serious he is. However, that would require diverting Harry’s attention away from the activity at hand. He can revisit it later, right now warm suction is his chief concern. As cock and tongue meet, Severus' resolve starts to wane. It becomes increasingly harder to deny that talented mouth anything it requests. Harry knows just how to swirl his tongue under the foreskin. The rhythm of that glorious tongue makes the head of his cock swell even more. As Harry moves to take in his whole length, he slips a finger into Severus' ass. The long slender finger finds the exact spot that makes the potions master cry out for more. His resolve is now razor thin and threatening to yield at any moment.
"Ahhhh. Harder, Harry. More…fingers." Very few people know that the sententious potions master can barely put together two words while being fucked up the ass. Harry learned very early on that three fingers of firm stoking, combined with just the right lick can make the man babble incoherently. Just knowing he can have that affect on his lover nearly makes Harry come in his trousers. Each time he adds another finger, Harry asks Severus if he will comply with his plans.
"I...won't...oh god...do it...go deeper. Fuck me...you can't...harder...make me...unnn" Harry eagerly obliges the stammering man after he separates the intermingled request and refusal. Harry knows that he is only a few stokes from incoherency and total compliance.
"Like this?"
"Fuck, yes." With each stroke he spreads his legs farther, hoping to give Harry more access. When Severus' balls tighten and he arches his back, Harry gets his cue to stop. Harry isn't going to give up his fantasy so easily, so he pulls out.
"What the fuck Potter?" Severus scoots his bottom closer in an attempt to reclaim the fingers. His cock is screaming for release and every nerve is surging toward that end. His cock wants that tongue where it belongs. It is throbbing with desperate longing for release.
"You want this?" Harry taunts, dipping back into his lover but refusing to resume the stroking.
"Yessss," Severus hisses. "Finish it you insolent brat."
"Rather demanding aren’t we? You are so hot, so tight, and sooooo ready. I can see your cock throbbing, waiting for my lips. Oh yes, your prostate is impossibly distended. One flick in just the right way and you’re done. Too bad you're not willing to make a deal." Harry had resumed the stroking and licking, pausing between each sentence to keep Severus' climax out of reach. By the way his lover is squirming, Harry knows that Severus desperately wants to go over the edge. "Shall we try again?"
"Name your terms," Severus moans the words because Harry is now pressing deeply and working his tongue on the most sensitive part of his cock. His legs are spread to their limits and he is pressing himself in against Harry’s touch.
“Come to the match in your outer robes only. Underneath you’ll be wearing the cock ring I have for you. The rest is a surprise.” Only after he gives the order does Harry give Severus what he wants.
Severus arrives at the pitch at the appointed hour, wearing only an outer robe and the finely crafted leather strap. It is fastened according to Harry's precise instructions. He chose a silk lined robe for the occasion. It would not do to have wool scratching at him the entire day. Silk is one of the Potions Masters' secret pleasures. There are few experiences that can compare to watching another man getting off while doing the same to yourself with the touch of silk on your skin. The fabric feels cool and sensuous as it swishes against his buttocks and thighs. Before taking one step out of his chamber, Severus cast a charm that would ensure that the hem could stay at his ankles. When indulging in fantasies in public, details are critical.
Severus goes along with today's plan because he has yet to be let down by his young and extremely enthusiastic lover. He waits near the office for Harry to set today’s fantasy in motion. He is late so Severus takes the time to reflect on the past fourteen months. Since they became lovers, Harry has proven that he is willing to go to great lengths to fulfill his sexual fantasies and Severus’ as well. He still succumbs to the lure of voyeurism, indulging himself as often as he dares. Part of Severus knows that Harry would prefer that he stop giving into those urges and be satisfied with their relationship as it stands. He also suspects it is the same reason that Harry joins him when he visits his old haunts, whispering to him about the scene they are watching, telling Severus how much he wants to do the very things they are witnessing. At times he is able to make Severus come using only his voice. Each time they return from one of these excursions, it seems as though Harry plans something even more elaborate and erotic. Since the night of the broom, they've tried a good number of things that would send the average wizard running for cover.
While he waits, he reflects back on his favorite encounter to date. That night in the potions lab they had reversed roles, Harry became the voyeur. He watched Severus fuck himself with a large platinum stirring rod. He still remembers the feeling of the sleek instrument sliding into his body for the first time. It was much narrower than the Harry’s cock but it's hardness gave him the exact the pressure he craved and the coolness of the metal felt exquisite. Suddenly, Harry's scent brings him back to the present. He smells of sandalwood, leather, and broom polish. Harry reaches out to brush Severus' hair off his face. It is a gesture that would have earned a scornful reprimand or a mild hex only six months ago. Severus lets the small gesture that subtly announces their relationship slide because there is no one near.
"I should take points; you are twelve minutes late. The masses are waiting on tenterhooks for your whistle."
"Let them wait. I had a few last minute adjustments to make." Harry's feral grin makes Severus' hormones launch into overdrive. Only good things have ever come from that grin.
"Do enlighten me."
Harry leans in close so as not to be heard by a wayward passersby. "You've done just as I asked. I can tell how ready you are for this and it feels superb. That cock ring you are wearing has been charmed. I can feel every movement your cock makes, including the exact state of your arousal. Not fifteen minutes ago you were a hard as a rock, it felt exquisite.”
“Pardon.”
“I am wearing an exact replica of your cock in my ass; an enchanted dildo of sorts." Harry reaches down and gives Severus the slightest caress through his robes. As Severus becomes aroused again, Harry purrs in his ear, "That's it, now circle your hips a little. Mmmmm, you’re perfect. I expect you to keep me entertained through the entire match. I must get going but before I do there's one more thing."
Severus is having trouble focusing on the present as his mind swirls with possibilities. He is unsure if he is more excited at the prospect of having total control over Harry’s new toy or the thought that he gets to watch it all from the stands.
"You have exactly one minute after the final whistle to make me come. I expect the same from you as well." Severus starts to feel weak in the knees as he watches Harry's backside head toward the pitch. He can feel his erection straining against the strap and thrusts his pelvis just before Harry flies out the door. Harry looks over his shoulder and gives his lover one last lustful gaze before bursting through the curtain to the roaring crowd.
Before he even takes his seat, Severus has a slick trail of pre-cum on the silk lining of his robes. He fears that if the match turns out to be too long he will have a wet spot visible on the outside. Seeing Harry on his broom, combined with the knowledge of his "accessory" and the memories of past activities on the Firebolt, causes Severus to start grinding his hips. The leather strap seems to be charmed to give Severus feedback on Harry's state of arousal as well. It begins to throb and send pulsing sensations along his ever hardening length. As the match progresses and his arousal heightens, Severus cannot stop himself from thrusting his hips in a slow and steady rhythm. The tight leather lets him know exactly when the dildo dances over Harry’s prostate. Severus feels that exquisite pressure building to its breaking point and it takes considerable concentration to keep himself hovering at the edge. As the cool silk dances across his cock, it sends luscious jolts of pleasure deep in his groin. Severus is desperate to reach in his robes; he needs to pump his cock with one silk-wrapped hand while caressing himself deep inside with the other. He sees Harry start that telltale slide along his Firebolt. The fans are none the wiser, they think he is adjusting himself after being atop the broom for more than four hours. Severus’ cock knows what that slide means and it begins to weep even more furiously in protest of not being behind Harry on the receiving end of the motion. The entirety of Severus’ skin is now burning with desire, every inch of it crying out for completion.
In the next moment the fire is quenched as the Slytherin seeker plucks the snitch from the sky. The dizzying sensation in his groin, combined with the energy of the fans, sends Severus into the depths of an incredibly powerful orgasm. The din of the crowd covers his low keening moan. The noises of victory are so loud that no one realizes it is Harry’s name he shouts out with wild abandon. The surrounding fans think he is excited over Slytherin’s narrow victory when they see him throw back his head and let out a celebratory cry, although they have never seen the Head of Slytherin House react to victory quite like this. No one sees the single, fat drop of creamy liquid land on Severus’ left boot. They do not know that the entire front of the silk lining is bathed in spunk. When he recovers he can see that his own climax has causes the same reaction in his lover. The telling flush of Harry’s skin is apparent even from thirty yards. Harry is panting as he recovers from the wave of sensation, a lesser man would have fallen off his broom.
In the blink of an eye a bludger hurdles towards the distracted referee. Harry has forgotten that bludgers pay no regard to end of game whistles. Everyone realizes too late and can do nothing to stop the impact. The bludger catches his left shoulder and savagely rips Harry from his broom, sending him plummeting fifty feet to the ground. The crowd is eerily silent as he lands with a sickening smack. Severus launches himself across the pitch with lightening speed, cursing the school for its anti-apparition wards.
The scene stops him dead in his tracks for a few moments; he is unable to move as he takes in the horrifying images of his lover sprawled before him. Harry is deathly still, his arm twisted at an impossible angle with a pool of blood around his head. Severus is startled back to the present as his leather strap disappears, suddenly realizing Harry would have made allowances should complications arise. He is afraid of what he’ll find but his inner instincts, ones honed by years of war, propel him forward. Harry's breathing is dangerously shallow, his lips are too blue, and there is far too much blood.
The rustle of fabric, the clink of bottles, and the patches of naked flesh are not appealing from this particular corner. They are familiar reminders in the wrong context. Stark white linens, potions bottles, and bruised skin keep him away. The site too painful to allow him to go closer, yet staying away brings its own agony. Every moment outside the classroom is spent watching silently from afar. His resolve is steadfast, even as it tears him apart, because despair is easier to swallow in darkness. Even when sugar coated with pleasure, it goes down easier in darkness.
He sat in the shadows and watched for eleven days before he could be coaxed into the light. It is the Headmaster who finally urges him to come closer. When they are alone Severus lets silent tears fall as he brushes Harry’s fringe aside to gently kiss his forehead. It hurts to sit close by and not be able to do anything that will change the situation. Now that he is here, he cannot leave his lover’s side. Severus no longer cares who sees him at Harry’s bedside. As each day passes, as hope fades, it feels like he is losing part of his soul. He desperately wants to retreat to the familiar but his heart won’t let him leave Harry to die alone. So Severus waits.
Each night he falls asleep at Harry’s side, holding hands with his head on Harry’s chest. He needs to feel the rise and fall of the young man’s chest against his cheek. Every morning Poppy’s gentle touch coaxes Severus awake. This morning a hand clutching at his hair pulls him out of his uncomfortable slumber. It is not Poppy’s hand nudging his shoulder today. Severus is almost afraid to life his head.
“Where am I? What happened?” Harry’s voice is so faint it is barely audible. Severus cautiously lifts his head off the rumpled blankets to find salvation in those emerald eyes
“Surely you recognize your surroundings Harry. You are once again in Poppy’s care after a rather gruesome collision with a bludger. You have been in a coma for 22 days, 4 hours, and 52 minutes.” Severus can barely contain himself, only years of practiced control allow him to reign in the threatening torrent of emotion. “You managed a stunning display of your ability to land yourself in trouble with your little fantasy. Its culmination distracted you to such a degree that you were knocked from your broom and fell more than fifty feet. You sustained several critical injuries; compound fracture to your humerous and clavicle, a fractured pelvis, a laceration to the liver, a ruptured spleen, and massive cranial hemorrhaging.”
“Explains why I feel like shit.”
“Indeed. You were not expected to live through that first day. Ever the Gryffindor, you were too stubborn to act as expected and held on by the finest of threads. I was told you would never wake up again.”
"How long have you been here?" The effort of speaking just a few words drains the younger man. It takes considerable effort for him to stay awake.
"It is Sunday afternoon so I have been by your side for 48 consecutive hours. Prior to that, every free moment." Severus moves in closer. He longs to climb into the bed, to hold Harry and never let go. He’s wanted to do that since he finally came to Harry’s bedside.
"Why did you stay?" Severus only hears the question because he is almost on top of Harry.
With the gentlest of caresses, Severus takes Harry’s face in his hands, "Because I love you and I couldn't let you go. Rest now, I'll be here when you wake."
“Love you, too.” Harry drifts off as Severus kisses him. Severus feels as though the weight of the world was lifted with that kiss. He realizes that Harry has managed to do something no man had ever succeeded in doing in the past. Harry Potter brought Severus Snape out of shadows and into the light to stay.