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roozetter (roozetter) wrote in severus_sighs, @ 2011-01-09 21:10:00

Current mood:	complacent
Current music:	Cake Wars

Happy-ish Birthday, Severus :)
Title: I Gave, Now I’m Wanting
Author: roozetter
Word Count: 1,354
Rating: R
Warnings: Umm… Chinese Water Torture. *scratches head* Yeah, I don’t know how that happened either.
Pairing: Harry/Severus
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author’s Note: Written for severus_sighs Kink!Night challenge. As always, love to my ol bff’s for their services as proofers - faeryqueen, dracosoftie. I ♥ you guys. Hard. Core.
Summary: Can you cry, just a little, for me?

I Gave, Now I’m Wanting

Drip.

He flinches as the droplet of water lands on his forehead, quivering uncertainly in place before sliding down to pool in the duct of his eye. Severus blinks rapidly to clear his vision, the water sliding down his sharp cheekbone like a tear.

Drip.

Naked, he lies in the murky darkness, shifting until the slabs of stone he is lying on abrade the tender flesh of his thighs. That’s about all the movement he is capable of, the bindings holding fast and keeping him secure.

Drip.

The statue of the snake is shining in the dim light, metallic scales seeming to ripple as the candlelight dances shadows across the walls. Severus has yet to determine where the draft is coming from, but tied down as he is, he doesn’t really care. The slight breeze is warm in contrast to the coldness of the water, breaking his flesh out in goose bumps, making his cock twitch over the contrasting stimuli.

Drip.

Water is dripping from the fangs in the snake’s mouth like venom. It’s terrifying, horrifying, bringing up memories he denies during his waking hours. But now, like this, willingly submissive… He’s always associated snakes with power. Who knew he could learn to associate them with peace?

Drip.

A shift in the air as the door opens soundlessly.

Drip

“Ss-eh-ver-uh-sss.”

Drip.

Fingertips tickle over his instep, slide around his ankles, slowly gliding up his shin to linger on the sensitive skin behind his knees. Severus gasps, trying to arch against his bonds. He’s been in this room, in the dark, for who knows how long, his senses limited to the sensation of water dropping intermittently on his brow. The touch on his flesh is light, but to Severus it’s as startling as an electric shock to his nerve endings. He moans, an expectant quiver starting low in his belly, and struggles to open his eyes.

Drip.

The water feels even colder as his flesh warms. He shuts his eyes in a hurry, gritting his teeth as water again slides into his eye and temporarily blinds him.

Drip.

Merciless laughter fills the room. Severus shudders as the lower portion of stone Vanishes, warm palms cupping the backs of his knees securely and drawing his legs up to rest upon broad shoulders, preventing them from falling to the ground.

Drip.

“Is there something you wish to say?” The voice is calm, controlled, with no inflection whatsoever. Perhaps the excessive exposure to water has broken him, just a little, but Severus imagines a thread of curiosity, hope, underscoring the words.

Drip.

“No.” His voice is hoarse. Severus is convinced the metallic snake above his head is laughing at him.

Drip.

“Mmm.” A sibilant hiss in the darkness. Severus cannot quite suppress a tremor.

Drip… Drip.

The water on his head feels colder, the trickle increasing. Severus does scream as fingers ghost across his hip, tickling across his genitals before lightly pinching his perineum.

“Severus.” And now he knows he is not imagining the reprimand in the tone, no matter how gentle the delivery. “I thought we were beyond that.”

Drip, Drip… Drip.

Like the water, the fingers sliding over his skin are in no discernable pattern. They brush over his nipples, skim his ribcage, follow along his breastbone. Severus bites his lip to keep from swearing, crying out. He wishes, futilely, that the silence and the sensory deprivation and the water hadn’t gotten to him quite as much as they had, but right now he feels weak. As if the water has burrowed a hole in his forehead and oozed into his brain, destroying his Occlumency shields and disrupting his neurons. He feels weak, preyed upon. And while he knows what is being asked of him, he… he just can’t.

Drip. Drip, Drip. … Drip

He moans, straining against his bonds, tasting the coppery salt of his own blood as he gnaws a hole through his lip. He’s arching, straining, the water coursing down his face like tears. “Stop this.”

“Mmm.” Severus’ hips bend as the man before him leans over, his legs still resting upon the warm flesh of shoulders. That wicked, whispering mouth kisses his bellybutton, his sternum, nearly wrings another scream out of him as a slippery tongue licks a path up his neck and hovers just over his ear. The moist warmth of breath is driving him mad, making him shake so hard he’s convinced he’d slide right off the table if he wasn’t restrained.

“You want me to stop,” the man whispers, nudging a lock of hair with his nose, “you’re going to have to make me.”

Drip.

Braced for more, the single drop of water after the influx of stimulation comes as such a surprise that Severus’ back arches, his cock dragging heavy and full against the rough texture of jeans. He chokes out a noise, a high-pitched breathless emission of agony, and arches again.

“Tell me, Severus.” Fingers tracing the pattern of his cheekbones.

“I can’t,” Severus snarls, blinking rapidly to clear the water from his vision.

“You can.” Gentle, oh so gentle and persuasive. “What happened that night?”

“No!”

The mouth skims over his own, coaxing him to yield with nothing more substantial than the whisper of oxygen. “Tell me.”

“I lost you rotten, fucked-up asshole!” Severus is screaming, blinded by his fury, the tendons in his neck standing out sharply as he fights against his bindings and lifts his head, trying to slam his forehead against… anything, really. “Is that what you want to hear? I. LOST. EVERYTHING.”

“Ah.” A soothing murmur of understanding. “I understand the confusion.”

Finally those maddening fingers are wrapping around his cock, tightening and squeezing. Severus is overloading, gasping for breath, fighting for composure and sanity. But then Harry is leaning closer, sucking gently on his Adam’s apple, draping his bared torso against Severus’ before looking him in the eye. “But, Severus, you have to realize. You didn’t lose that night… You won.”

And Severus is coming, the water in his eyes blinding him, those curiously animalistic sounds of pain tearing from his throat. Harry holds him close, Vanishing the bindings to pull him even closer. Severus grips Harry tightly, digging his fingernails into his back until Harry is hissing in a much more pleasant manner than earlier. But he doesn’t let go. He simply stands there, letting Severus do whatever he needs to do in order to regain his composure. It’s not until Severus’ breath no longer hitches in his throat that Harry even stirs in his arms, pulling back to smile so tenderly.

“You won, Severus.”

He can’t fight anymore, not while feeling so hollow inside, not with the damn water still seeping down his face. So he nods, shifts until his legs drop from Harry’s shoulders and onto the ground, and buries his fingers in Harry’s messy shock of hair. He’s never fully understood the comfort associated with human contact until precisely this moment. “Turn the damn water off.”

The gentle expression on Harry’s face nearly breaks him. “I already did.”

Severus freezes briefly, releasing his death grip on Harry’s hair long enough to raise one hand wonderingly to his face. His cheeks are still damp. With tears?

“I haven’t cried since…” His mother. Lily. A single tear the night Dumbledore presented him with his burned arm and he knew his time was ending.

Harry nods. “Something I learned the hard way,” he explained. “In the pain there is healing.”

“I’m crying,” Severus repeats blankly, hardly noticing as Harry soothes the abrasions on his thighs and helps him to stand.

“Happy Birthday, Severus,” Harry says softly.

~*~

Chinese water torture was inspired by the legend of Loki, who was punished by the gods for murdering Baldr. Loki was strapped to three slabs of stone and had a snake placed above him so its venom would pour in his eyes.

Loki – A shapeshifter who sometimes helped the gods and sometimes betrayed them. Loki’s positive relationship with the gods ended with his role in engineering the death of Baldr.

Baldr – A god in Norse mythology associated with light, beauty, love, and happiness.

Symbolism, anyone?