Snarry-a-Thon21: FIC & ART: The Potters Title: The Potters Author&Artist:Drarry_Quite_Contrary Other pairings/threesome: Severus/Oliver Wood, Severus/Various Male Characters Rating: NC-17 Word count: 7200 Media: Digital Illustration/Photography Content/Warning(s): Explicit Sexual Content, Age Difference, Alcohol Use, Referenced Physical Injury Prompt: No. 14: Owing to years of pent up sexual frustration, Severus aggressively pursues and boinks boys that resemble Harry in the club/bar bathroom, only this time he's too drunk and/or stupid to realize he's got the real thing pressed up against the wall. Summary: Severus discovers he has, in fact, not died, and neither has Harry. He had accepted his fate—dying to protect the boy he loved, even though his own demise was inevitable. Their mutual survival did not feel like a blessing…but a curse. Now Severus would have to watch as Harry lived the life of a hero—adored, worshipped by many. Many far more desirable, tolerable, beautiful than Severus ever would be.
Severus thought he could live without him, and maybe he could, especially with all the ‘Potters’ just waiting to be ravished.
That would be enough. It had to be enough. A/N: Thank you SO much to my #1 beta and #1 fan wheelsmcgraw. I do not deserve you! This was my first Snarry-A-Thon and I have had SO MUCH FUN! Any way to celebrate my OTP…I’m there! <3 Thank you so much to my prompter! I LOVED IT!!
The last he saw before he died—the first when he did not.
"Potter," croaked Severus, his throat dry and scratchy from disuse. "What are you—"
"Thank, Merlin," sighed a clearly disgruntled, sleep-deprived Harry Potter. He was leaning over Severus, smiling broadly. "I was so—fuck, it's really you."
"You...I…?" Severus blinked furiously as he tore his gaze away, taking in his surroundings.
White. Why was there so much bloody white? And why the fuck was Potter here? Why was he here?!
The room was small—no windows, but with a single door. There were shelves lined with various medicinal potions.
Anti-venom. Draught of Living Death.
Severus was in St. Mungo's, clearly having been held in a near-death stasis as the damage of Nagini's venom was miraculously remedied.
Severus had felt his life fade, the fall into nothing. Yet he was here. Now. With Potter.
Harry grabbed Severus' hand, sitting back on the small stool at his bedside, causing Severus to jump.
"It's okay," said Harry, misinterpreting the gesture, "He's gone. Voldemort's gone. For good."
Severus' brow furrowed in confusion. If Harry had truly vanquished the Dark Lord, how is it that he too could be sitting here—alive? Impossible. He'd sent the boy to his death himself, having supplied Harry with the memories necessary to complete his task. His ultimate sacrifice.
"How are you—" Severus let out a cough as the pain of each word shot needles into his throat.
"Shh, don't talk," whispered Harry, tears welling. "God, it's been ten days," he breathed, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "You have no idea." Harry's hand clenched tighter.
"How..." rasped Severus.
"I sent Kreacher to you. Had him take you here," said Harry, "just after I left Dumbledore's office. After seeing your...in case there was any chance...I didn't think you—the Healers didn't know. But you're okay." He gave Severus a small smile, his eyes red and puffy.
That simple gesture made Severus' heart clench. Harry had been worried about him, saved him, and very well had spent the last ten days at his side. No. Of course, he hadn't. It was only a coincidence that he had been here. Now. At this very moment. When he awoke.
Mere coincidence.
"No," said Severus. "You. How are you—"
"It doesn't matter," dismissed Harry. "I'm fine."
And Severus had no idea? What were ten days of Severus' life in the balance compared to over a year of the unbearable agony and burden of knowing Harry's path would only end in his untimely death? To carry on in feigned ignorance. To watch him laugh and grow, blissfully unaware of the fate set before him. That infuriatingly idiotic, insufferable, self-important disaster of a Gryffindor. Alive.
Severus wanted to grab him, pull him tightly to his chest. Feel Harry's heartbeat, his chest rise with each breath. Never let him go. But he could not.
"After all this time," said Harry a bit breathlessly. "I really thought you hated me. Wanted me dead. To think you'd been there...protecting me. Everything you've done…"
Severus could not bear it; Harry's words so clearly laced with affection. He was not worthy of breathless words, tears, and small smiles. The boy was delirious—the trauma and shock of what had just transpired mere days ago. Harry was the Savior, no doubt making his rounds to all survivors of the war. Watch them heal. Appease his guilt.
Harry would forget Severus soon enough. It was best to end this now before Severus clutched to false hopes and impossible dreams. He donned the mask he'd worn before the boy for years, slipping into the monster as easily as breathing.
Severus felt his heart shatter as he sneered, "Potter. Let. Go. Of me."
He forced as much venom into the words as he could muster. The hurt in Harry's face carved him open. It did not matter what Severus felt for Harry. His feelings did not matter—had no place in this second chance at life. Severus should have died. It would have been so much easier if they had both just...died.
What a disgusting thought.
Now he would have to watch as Harry lived the life of a hero—adored, worshipped by many. Many far more desirable, tolerable, beautiful than Severus ever would be. Harry despised him. Of Severus' own design, of course. A Professor old enough to be his father. Yet Severus cared for him, far deeper than anyone else in his life, apart from Lily. And this was Lily's child.
Yet those sparkling green eyes full of tears and anguish no longer belonged to her. They were Harry's. His Harry.
Severus knew the very moment everything changed, catching Harry and the Weasley girl. Severus wanted to curse off every freckle. Harry's lips swollen and chapped from the girl's kisses. Severus wanted to taste them. He hated himself for it.
A fleeting moment passed as Severus stared into Harry's watery green eyes, focused purely on him for the first time since his would-be death. He thought of tugging Harry's hand, pulling him in for a desperate kiss. But who was he fooling? The boy would only shove him away, curse him, whatever, and Severus would deserve it—welcome it.
Harry would never love him. The farther away the boy stayed, the better.
"It's alright," said Harry, loosening his grip on Severus' hand but not letting go. "You're alright. I'm sure this is a bit of a shock—"
"I said," spat Severus, finding his voice and wrenching his hand away. "Let go of me, Potter!"
Harry leaned back, pulling back his hand as if it had burned him. "Fuck, Snape. Fine!"
He didn't look angry, only surprised as Severus intensified his glare. "Get out."
Harry's brow furrowed, a frown creeping downward as his emerald eyes flashed. "No," he said defiantly.
Severus' black eyes narrowed in response, his nostrils flaring. "Get the fuck out, Potter! Haven't you done enough damage here!" he snarled, his hand snapping reflexively to his bandaged throat. The words tasted like ash in his mouth.
"Oh, yes, and how convenient for you to reveal yourself only as I lay bleeding on the floor, poison flowing through my veins." Severus looked away. "I know you were there, Potter. Yet you did nothing!"
In truth, Severus had been glad of it. The Dark Lord would have killed Harry if he'd revealed himself too soon, and Severus was ready to die for the boy he loved. Even with no love for him in return.
Harry was shaking, his pale cheeks flushing as his fury built. "Fuck. You!"
Harry jumped to his feet in his rage, knocking a water goblet to the floor, shattering to pieces. A Healer let out a shriek as she bustled into the room at the sound, Harry shoving past her and out the door.
Harry did not return.
*****
Severus sold Spinner's End. It wasn't as if it was overflowing with happy memories. He bought a small flat in Muggle London, not far from Diagon Alley. Having nearly a twenty-year tenure at Hogwarts and no social life to speak of, he'd manage to save a modest amount of gold. Minerva had sent an owl, stating his job would be waiting for him if he chose to return, but for now, Severus needed time. To forget the war. Dumbledore. The Dark Lord.
And Harry.
*****
Severus did not leave the flat more than he could help it. He had contacted a house-elf staffing service, hiring a sickeningly pleasant little elf named Dotty. Dotty the Doter, he called her.
"Master Severus," said Dotty, placing his weekly grocery order on the table. "Shall Dotty be putting things away, sir?"
"No, thank you, Dotty. As I have said, countless times, it gives me something to do," he said, his quill scratching furiously over stacks of parchment. "And I am not your master."
Though Severus had embraced his early retirement, it did not mean he had wholly removed himself from the world of potions. If he was going to become a recluse, he might as well use his time productively. It was about time the wizarding world had a potions text dedicated to not only successful but improved brewing techniques he'd developed from a very young age.
Severus had not referenced a single tome during his years at Hogwarts. However, Severus was no longer at Hogwarts. He could not trust the provided texts would offer the acceptable skill set one would expect from a Hogwarts graduate. Even from Slughorn.
He let out a resigned sigh, laying down his quill to eye the tiny elf as she approached him slowly. Severus could see her nervously clutching a piece of paper.
He rolled his eyes. "What is it this time?"
She was insufferable—any opportunity to lure Severus from the flat. Why on earth she thought fencing lessons would be of any interest to him, he would never know. Next, it would be learning the piano, interpretive dancing, or something of the sort. His curiosity had been piqued at the mention of something called goat yoga, but he dismissed it just the same.
"Master Severus is so pale, he is needing the sun, sir," or, "Master Severus is needing friends and not be alone," and on a particularly mortifying occasion, "Dotty can contact Harry Potter and tell him you is wanting to see him, sir."
How such a ridiculous notion entered her tiny head....
Her eyes widened, pleading as she held out the flyer. It must have been pinned to a news board somewhere. He rolled his eyes as he took it from her. She let out an excited squeal, bouncing giddily from foot to foot. He pushed up his spectacles, eyes raking over the parchment.
Severus blinked furiously, his eyes bulging in their sockets.
It was a Grand Opening flyer for…a Harry Potter-themed Night Club?!
Could the wizarding world sink no lower into this unyielding hero-worship? Severus didn't know whether to be intrigued or appalled. Apparently, this tragedy of an establishment hosted a weekly Harry Potter...what was it...cosplay party? Patrons would don their best impressions of the Boy Who Lived while getting utterly pissed.
There was no chance in hell Severus would be caught dead at anything of the sort.
No. Never.
*****
Severus always used a glamour. He had mastery in verbal seduction tactics, but even he couldn't ignore the severe lack of physical allure. Tall and thin could be a desirable trait for the proper man, but Severus' face—God, he didn't even own a mirror.
Severus excused it for anonymity's sake, but he knew the lie as plain as the unfortunate nose on his face. He would never have what he truly desired, but he'd be damned if he never experienced the feeling of being wanted. Severus did not deserve Potter, but he deserved…something.
So, he concocted his glamour with as much attention to detail as in his brewing. It turned his stomach to think that, of all people, he was using Sirius Fucking Black as his muse. As much as he'd hated the man, no one could deny his handsomeness. Not even Severus.
He kept his dark hair long but with a bit more sheen, volume—far less greasy, which had been the bane of his entire existence. No matter how often it was washed or what hair potions he used, it always looked—how it looked.
Severus maintained his own sharp features, but with dark eyes that had witnessed joy equal to its horrors, a bright smile full of mischief—no pain. His nose was straight, appropriately sized. Severus dared not alter his age. Though the glamour itself was already laced with deception, he did not wish to deceive in that. He might love Potter, but that did not mean he was partial to a younger breed. Even so, a different face, yes. A different age...that would be highly inappropriate.
He'd allowed some silly muggle saleswoman to outfit him in the latest male fashions, just for the sake of blending in. What was a glamour for enhanced attractiveness if he could not dress the part? It would be exhausting to do a full glamour. To his credit, he had, as the woman so directly put, "a desirable male physique," with a "deep, raspy voice sure to charm the pants off any man."
No, best to manipulate as little as possible. Just enough to be seen and not gawked at or ignored. Severus had enough of that to be getting on with.
His Dark Mark was replaced with the profile of a doe, framed in lily blossoms. It made his heart ache, but the pain brought him comfort. Lily had seen past the mask Severus had worn throughout his childhood. Though the idea terrified him, a small piece of him hoped someone would again.
Severus took in a deep breath, straightening his jacket and checking his glamour before disapparating.
*****
It did not take long for him to find—The Lighting Bolt.
"You have got to be kidding me," he whispered under his breath. He pinched the crook of his perfectly glamoured nose as he cursed himself for even considering partaking in such lunacy.
How sick was he to think a stand-in 'Harry Potter' would satiate his impure desires for the boy—the man? Despicable.
A hulking man stood in front of the entrance with a glare piercing enough to rival Severus'. The man grunted, extending his palm. Severus handed the man his wand, which glowed green. The bouncer nodded, a slight smirk on his lips as he looked Severus up and down. Severus smiled to himself. He could get used to this.
The moment he walked through the door, Severus nearly turned right back around. There had to be more than fifty Potters scattered amongst the crowd. Some mediocre attempts at best. One overweight man with blonde hair, clearly sprayed black for the occasion, was wearing a shirt stating "Harry Potter" on the front. Severus smirked. Even if he did not find what he was looking for, this would be highly amusing, to say the least.
The club had high vaulted ceilings with what could only be Potter memorabilia hanging on the walls. Severus thought he saw a framed History of Magic essay, letting out a snort as he noted the "D" scrawled at the top.
On his way up to the bar, he noticed a few of these "Potters" had their eyes locked on Severus as he passed. Though he knew it to be the glamour, Severus could not help the blooming confidence in his chest. He had never been the target of anyone's desires, only disgust.
"Scotch. Neat," he said to the bartender, a squat man with a comically large moustache. He nodded as a glass landed in front of Severus, a bottle of whisky pouring its contents.
"That is quite enough," he said, waving off the bottle. So, this honourable establishment took advantage of its more...unsightly clientele by pouring to their leisure unless otherwise dismissed.
"Fifteen sickles," said the moustached man. Severus sneered at him as he pulled out the small silver coins. He turned from the man, leaning his back against the bar as he took a sip of whisky. His eyes travelled the room in search of his first...conquest? No. If they were willing, there was nothing untoward about it.
He locked eyes with a young man. His resemblance to Harry was a bit uncanny, though a bit too tall and muscular. Severus smiled to himself reflexively, and the man leaned over to say something to his companion before walking over toward Severus.
"So," said the man in a thick Scottish accent. He placed a hand on the bar beside him, eying Severus' muggle attire with curiosity...and genuine interest. "Not in the Potter mood, then?"
Severus was well aware of just how tight his jeans were...
"On the contrary," said Severus, downing the rest of his drink. He looked at his empty glass as he felt the man watching him. Severus turned his head toward him. Far too tall, but not undesirable. "Ah," said Severus. "Quidditch Potter, is it?"
The man ran his fingers through his dark hair, looking down at his quidditch leathers. The scar on his forehead was incorrectly placed, but if he was looking for authenticity, he might as well seek out the real thing. Which was never going to happen.
"Easy to transfigure what you already have," he chuckled, pushing up his glasses as he flashed Severus a cocky grin. "I'm sure you recognise me."
"Ah, yes," said Severus as he turned toward the barkeep, wiggling his empty glass. 'All the way,' he mouthed at the man. Fuck his sickles. He was going to have to be adequately pissed to make it through this. "Harry Potter, Savior of the wizarding world. Golden Hero. Etcetera, etcetera."
The man shook his head, smiling with amusement. He pulled off the round spectacles, leaning over the bar to meet Severus' eyes.
"Oliver Wood. Puddlemere United?"
Severus choked on his newly filled drink. "No. Absolutely not," he hissed to himself.
"Well, even better," said Oliver, his smile broadening. "It's rare to come across someone who doesn't. Refreshing."
Severus had to get out of this. Fast. Just because he had an attraction to Potter, did not mean he threw himself willy-nilly at his previous students. Just as he thought he'd dash into the gathering crowd, Oliver said, "For you, I can be Potter, though. If you like."
Severus froze, giving him a sidelong glance. "You know Potter." He knew it sounded like a question, even stated as fact.
"I do," he breathed against Severus' ear. Then in an uncanny impersonation of Harry, "Expelliarmus..."
Severus was instantly hard. He grabbed the front of Oliver's robes. "Bathroom," he snapped, tossing back his second drink before darting toward the men's loo.
*****
Severus awoke, half-naked but thankfully in his own bed. He sat up abruptly, wincing as his head throbbed. He listened for breathing. Footsteps.
All was quiet.
"Thank, Merlin," he breathed, falling back onto his pillow. He barely remembered the night prior. Whispers in his ear as he'd been fucked in a filthy stall. By Oliver Bloody Wood.
From the alcohol or the memory, Severus did not know; he rolled over to the edge of the bed, vomiting all over the floor.
*****
It became an addiction. Find and fuck a Harry Potter. Even though he knew it wasn't real, he convinced himself, again and again, this was Harry. His Harry. Fucking or being fucked. God, Severus was sick. But he couldn't get enough. Severus stopped them before a name could be dropped. After the Oliver incident, he'd rather not know. He was there for one thing and one thing alone.
On this night, Severus almost didn't go. He didn't know why he bothered with the Prophet. Every day a new Harry Potter headline. He just loved to torture himself, obviously.
Today's headline: Potter had been named Head of the DMLE after only one year as a Senior Auror. Of course, he did.
Severus hissed as he tossed the paper across the table, taking a long drink of his tea. He needed something stronger. Even as he closed his eyes, he could see that crooked grin as Harry shook hands with Shacklebolt, that Granger girl at his side.
His gut twisted. It had been nearly two years since the last time he saw Potter. As could be expected, his life continued. His dream job, the love of a girl...the love of the world. No need for Severus.
Dotty eyed him nervously as she cleaned up dinner, glancing from Severus' expression of defeat and the discarded newspaper. When she had finished, to Severus' shock, she all but ran out the door without a single word.
It was already half ten when he decided that he'd lose his mind if he stayed at home. After a few months of boinking Potters, he was starting to wear down. His needs as prevalent as ever, if not more so, but the fantasy was fading. No amount of drink could convince him he had Harry in those stalls. Nor would he want to. If he ever had the privilege...the honour of having the real Potter, he would not sully their coupling in the loo of a club. Severus was better than that. Harry deserved better. But he wouldn't.
He went for casual attire: tight black jeans and a baggy t-shirt. Severus may have decided to go, but it didn't mean he was committed to his routine debauchery. Stepping into the club, he let out a small sigh as he pushed his way through the crowd and over to the bar.
"'Lo, Severus," said Merl, the barkeep. "Usual?"
"Not tonight, I'm afraid. I'm not in the mood," he said grumpily, leaning against the bar.
"Oh?" he asked, chuckling lightly. "Then why, may I ask, are you here, besides denying me an honest living?"
Severus rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine. I'll take a gin and tonic."
Merl nodded at him turning to grab a glass as an elbow perched on the bar next to Severus.
"Severus, is it?" asked an amused voice.
He turned to look at the young man, meeting dark green eyes burning with want. Harry Potter. No, not Potter. He wasn't wearing glasses. The dim lighting in the club concealed any flaws or features that would have broken the illusion. But, Merlin's moustache, the strong resemblance made him sick just looking at him. So he didn't.
Merl cocked an eyebrow at Severus' disinterest as the drink landed gracefully in front of him.
The amused smile of the raven-haired man turned downward, brow pinched. "Severus, it's me. Ha—"
Severus held up a hand, silencing the man as was customary under these circumstances. "Harry Potter, yes, yes, I know."
The young man's emerald eyes sparkled his crooked grin broadening. "So you do recognise me. "
Severus rolled his eyes. "This again...alright, of course," he whispered under his breath as he set down the glass, turning toward the man. "How could I not know who you are. My saviour," he drawled sarcastically, lifting a hand to his brow in a mock swoon.
The man's smile faltered. "Er...I mean, I didn't think that would...still bother you."
"Bother me?" teased Severus, the sudden rush of alcohol pushing him onward toward the prize, "I owe you my life, Potter."
Severus loved this part of the game. Convincing his partner, he deserved what Severus would give him. He slipped a finger under the waistband of 'Potter's' jeans, pulling him in closer.
"How can I ever repay you?" he whined as he felt the man's cock hardening against Severus' thigh.
"Shit," the man breathed as Severus leaned forward to graze his lips against his jaw.
God, he even smelled like Potter. Well, a Potter drenched in alcohol and cigarette smoke, but still. It was a comfort—and hot as fuck.
"Tell me what you want," whispered Severus. Damn, he was fit.
"Fuck," 'Potter' breathed. "You...I've been looking for you...for so long."
A heat thrummed in Severus' groin as he betrayed a smile. The hunger in those eyes for Severus of all people. He would not let the opportunity for a potentially mind-blowing fuck go to waste. The man gave out a sharp gasp as Severus bit his ear, whispering, "Bathroom," before releasing the band of his jeans, stepping past him.
As he made his way through the crowd, Severus thought he heard the man call after him. He'd follow Severus. The way 'Potter's' heart was pounding, nearly as loud as the music surrounding him, the hardness of his cock. This 'Potter' was the closest he'd ever come, and he would not let that slip away.
He turned to look behind him, pleased to find a spikey mess of black hair following closely behind. When the bathroom door shut behind him, he held his breath as the door creaked open. 'Potter' pulled Severus against him, claiming his mouth in a furious kiss. Severus deepened the kiss hungrily. As Severus tried to pull them toward a stall, the man shook his head.
"Not here," he gasped between kisses, groaning as Severus palmed his throbbing erection beneath his jeans. "—ome with me."
Severus shuddered under his hands, the mess of tongues and teeth, hair and skin. His fantasy made real. He could break the rule, just this once. If Severus was going to have this delicious Harry doppelgänger, it couldn't be here among the smell of old alcohol and human refuse.
"Mine," said Severus. If he were going to do this, it would be on his terms. Where he had control.
With a crack, they were in his bedroom, already shedding articles of clothing. He didn't dare turn on the lights. For the first time in his life, this could be Harry. He could convince himself inexplicably that this was Harry, and he would relish it.
"Harry," he moaned as the man sucked on his neck, pressing him down into the bed, climbing over him. "Fuck, Potter, yes!"
Hands travelled up his bare chest, and Severus shuddered, wrapping his arms around the man, roaming his hands along the rippling muscles of his back.
"Lumos," whispered the man, and the bedside lamps lit. Severus blinked furiously, his eyes adjusting to the light. The man pushed himself up on his hands, staring down at Severus.
Severus let out a gasp as he looked at the face of the man above him. "Holy fuck," he cursed.
Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Is that...good?"
Mouth agape, Severus took in the lines of his face, the scar...those eyes. "P-Potter?"
"...Yes?" Harry asked, brow furrowing before his eyes widened with realisation. "You mean you...you didn't…" Harry rolled off of Severus and over onto his back, staring at the ceiling. "You didn't know. Fuck, and here I thought you wanted—"
Without pausing to think, Severus rolled on top of Harry, kissing him with all the passion he'd repressed and reserved for this stupid, beautiful man. He could feel tears welling in the corner of his eyes as he pressed his body against him, his tongue seeking entrance between his lips, and Harry let him.
Harry bit Severus' lip, and he let out a small yelp as Harry's hands travelled down his back and under the waistband of his jeans, grazing his fingers on the smooth skin of his arse.
"Fuck, Sev, I didn't know where you'd gone," gasped Harry, nuzzling into Severus' shoulder, peppering kisses along his collarbone. "You disappeared." Harry let out a sharp moan as Severus took a stiff nipple between his teeth. "Fuck! How long I've wanted this."
"You have no idea," growled Severus, raking his nails into Harry's scalp. Harry shuddered, letting out gasping moans as Severus ground his cock against Harry's.
"Show me," gasped Harry. "Please."
"Show you?" asked Severus, pausing slightly.
Harry lifted a hand, drawing the contours of his face under the glamour. "You."
Severus recoiled. "You don't want that," he murmured, leaning in for a kiss.
Harry's hand caught his chest. Severus froze as a finger traced the hook of his nose, hidden so carefully by the straight, perfect illusion. "I do. More than anything."
Severus held his gaze, the truth of his words plain. Clamping his eyes shut, Severus released the glamour. Not a sound. No gasp, no wince, or pushing Severus away. When he opened his eyes, Harry was smiling. "There's my Prince."
Severus nearly collapsed on top of Harry but steadied himself. "Harry I—"
"I know you only said those things to push me away. But when I came back…" Harry clamped his eyes shut, releasing a deep breath. "You were gone. You'd sold Spinner's End...no one had heard even a whisper. McGonagall offered you your job, but she never heard back." Harry's grip tightened against his back. "You vanished...fuck, I missed you. Missed you so much I thought I'd go insane."
Severus was the insane one. None of these words could be true. How could Harry have missed him? There was a twinge of pain at the memory of the article, still sitting on his kitchen table, causing Severus to pull back.
"But...Granger..."
"Sorry?"
"In the Prophet..."
Harry's confusion shifted into understanding. "Oh!" he let out a small laugh. "She's the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Not to mention my best friend." He eyed Severus suspiciously. "Why? Were you jealous?"
Sputtering, Severus protested, "Excuse...I was—I would never—how could you think—"
Harry silenced him with a kiss. "Did it make you angry? Seeing me...with someone else?"—green eyes flashing.
Severus' lip curled. He would not rise to the bait. "No."
"So, if I had gone home with some other bloke tonight, you wouldn't have cared?"
Severus grasped Harry's jaw, their eyes locking with a hungry intensity. "Do. Not. Test. Me. Potter."
Harry's jaw clenched, his glare defiant. "And what were you doing there anyway? Happy to bring home any 'Potter' that would have you?! If it hadn't been me—"
Severus stifled his words with a violent kiss, his fingers grasping Harry's hair, tugging his head back for better access to his mouth. Harry whined as Severus' grip tightened.
"You, stupid boy!" spat Severus, grinding his hips into Harry's.
"Yes," said Harry grasping hold of Severus' waist, raising his hips, pressing their cocks harder against one another. "I'm a helpless, daft bastard who needs his Professor."
Sparks trickled down Severus' spine. "Potter…"
"That's right. Potter," Harry growled, grazing his tongue along Severus' sharp jaw. "How many detentions you wasted."
Severus sucked in a sharp breath, his face flushing with heat, refusing to let the fantasies consume him—rustling of robes...a Gryffindor tie tossed to the floor...
Harry's smile broadened, taking advantage of Severus' momentary skive from reality, rolling the man beneath him once more.
"You cannot mean...what you say," said Severus breathlessly. "You don't know what you are asking."
"No?" asked Harry, dragging his teeth along Severus' lips.
The heat and desire flooded over them, returning full force. Severus dug his nails into Harry's back, the man crying out against his lips. Harry's hands travelled along Severus' chest as they kissed, sliding a hand between them, slipping it under Severus' waistband.
Severus gasped as the tips of Harry's fingers caressed the head of his cock, smearing pre-come across it. Harry smiled against Severus' lips as he broke the kiss, crawling back to settle between Severus' legs. Severus bit his fist as Harry pulled off his jeans, leaving his precome soaked pants. Harry ran his palm up along Severus' shaft through the thin fabric.
Moaning against his hand, Severus spasmed as Harry freed his cock. He looked down to see Harry removing his glasses, banishing them to the bedside table. Starting at the base of his shaft, Harry dragged his tongue painstakingly slow up toward the head, lapping the precome off the tip before grasping him in hand. They locked eyes as Harry took him into his mouth. Severus moaned, releasing his fist to grip the sheets, arching into Harry as he bobbed on his cock.
"Fuck, Potter." They were in his office; Severus sprawled over his desk as Harry took him into his mouth. Gryffindor robes. That tie. Oh, fuck how he'd wanted to grab hold of that tie and—
He cried out as the fantasy pushed him over the edge, spilling himself deep in Harry's throat. Harry swallowed, licking his sensitive head of any remaining come.
"Enough! My God, Potter!"
He threw an arm over his eyes, panting. This could not have been real. Harry Potter had not just sucked him off.
Harry stood, leaning over Severus' near-naked form. "Severus," he whispered. Severus peered at him beneath this arm. "I want you." He dragged his fingers from Severus' collarbone down across his chest to his navel. "All of you."
He locked eyes with Severus, waiting for a response. He lowered his arm. His heart fluttered as Harry looked at him. Looked at him like he was the only one on this earth. If he hadn't just come, he would have come on the spot.
He sucked in a breath as he vanished his soiled pants, Harry's eyes flashing at the sight of Severus below him, completely bare. After all these years. Severus could not understand why—why this man would look at him with so much want and desire, fire and need. He hesitated only a moment before lifting his knees, holding them aloft, his puckered hole on full display.
"Take me," Severus breathed.
Harry's mouth fell open slightly as he stared down at the offering, Severus' face and chest flushing under the scrutinising gaze. Licking his lips, Harry knelt, clutching Severus' thighs as he leaned in, his tongue grazing the tight entrance. Severus let out a guttural moan as wet heat circled his hole. He gasped for air as the tip of Harry's tongue settled at its centre, pressing gently forward as it breached Severus.
"Fuck..." he gasped as Harry pressed in deeper.
Severus' cock was hard and aching. Though the sensation was intoxicating, he wanted more. "Potter, please," he moaned, trembling in anticipation of what Harry would give him.
Gone were the thoughts of endless nights of meaningless sex with those who could never be the beautiful, precious man before him—worshipping him. He would be ruined forever by this man. No one could take his place, and Severus had been a fool to try.
The subtle wiggle of Harry's tongue inside him sending sparks of pleasure across his skin. Harry pulled back, wiping the spit from his mouth as he smirked at Severus.
"Why, Professor," he purred, "—when have you ever been one to beg?"
Harry looked almost disappointed. Severus watched as Harry's cheeks flushed pink, as Severus sharpened his stare, immediately aware of what the man desired.
"Fuck me, Potter!" he spat with a sneer. "Or are you too much of an imbecile to do it properly?!"
Harry's cock bounced in his pants as he glared down at Severus. His own bottoms vanished, releasing Harry's glistening cock, thick and red, precome beading at the tip. Severus' mouth watered as he stared at it, the glorious member in which Harry would fill him.
Severus' breath hitched as Harry placed his fingers in his mouth, coating them with hot saliva. He placed the tips of his slick fingers against Severus' hole, slowly circling the entrance as Severus bit back a moan.
"Fuck, you're so tight," said Harry, as Severus felt the pressure of Harry's finger against him.
"In...the drawer…" Severus groaned, and a moment later, the bottle of thick clear liquid was pouring its contents into Harry's outstretched palm.
Harry leaned forward to kiss Severus. Clutching to him, Severus let out an impatient growl. Fingers slick with lube, Harry found the tight hole, slipping a finger in easily.
After a few quick thrusts, Severus growled, "I'm no virgin, Potter! Fuck me, or get out!"
If he hadn't been confident it was exactly what Harry wanted, Severus wouldn't have dared. Harry's eyes flashed the ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth as he immediately yanked his fingers from Severus' aching entrance.
"Of course, you're no virgin, Professor," said Harry, coating his cock with lube, aligning himself with the slick hole. "And neither am I."
Harry's fingers dug into the back of Severus' thighs as he slammed into him, both crying out in pleasure as Harry's pelvis slapped against Severus' arse. Not a breath inhaled before Harry thrust into him again, harder and faster. Dark eyes locked with green before both were lost with pleasure.
"Fuck, I've waited so long," groaned Harry.
Severus had never felt so full. There were no words to describe the rush of emotions, hitting Severus like a tidal wave—like Harry's cock to his prostate. This was nothing like those hasty fucks at the club. All lust and the need for release. Now, with Harry, he wanted more. He wanted everything. The snogging, the sex, holding each other as they fell asleep. Waking up by his side. Forever.
"Harder, Potter!"
Severus nearly choked as his body jerked from the force of Harry's thrusts. Harry released his legs to grab hold of his hips, pulling Severus forward as he fucked him deep.
Harry's cock, buried inside him. Abusing his filthy hole. Claimed. Ruined. No other would enter him again. None but Harry. Stay.
Severus fisted the sheets as his climax built. Just as Harry hit his prostate, Severus cried out as pleasure took him, hot spurts of come splattered against his chest. Harry's pace did not waver.
He shot Severus a triumphant grin. "You love my cock inside you...my filthy Prince."
Severus' back arched as Harry angled himself to hit his prostate at every thrust. He couldn't breathe, the pleasure so intense he saw stars. With a rumbling groan, Severus felt Harry's come pouring into him.
"Fuck, Severus," Harry panted, holding himself fully sheathed in Severus' arse as the last tremor of his climax ebbed.
Harry fell on top of Severus, their breathing ragged, hearts racing. Severus' ears were ringing. He had been thoroughly fucked and filled by Harry Fucking Potter.
However weak he felt, Severus grabbed Harry's face, tilting it up to kiss him. The kiss was slow, yet no less passionate as their tongues intertwined. Severus would never let him go. Not after this. After all this time.
"Your arse is mine, Potter," he rasped sternly. "You are mine."
Harry's lips smiled against Severus' mouth. "You can have it now if you like."
Severus bit Harry's lip a bit too harshly, tasting the coppery tang of blood. Severus licked his lips.
"Oh, I very much would."
*****
Severus blinked as bright light poured in between his eyelids. As his eyes began to focus, he could make out an odd shape silhouetted before him. He heard Harry's groan to his right, his heart fluttering in relief that Harry had, in fact, stayed the night.
"Dotty!" Severus hissed with a start.
He pulled the covers up over him, quickly turning toward Harry. The man only rolled into him, still, fast asleep. Dotty was sitting upon one of the kitchen stools beside the bed, her eyes sparkling as she smiled giddily.
"Harry Potter is finding Mister Severus!" she shrieked, nearly toppling off the seat as she bounced with glee.
Severus looked between the sleeping Harry and Dotty. "What do you mean…found me?"
"Dotty is asking Kreacher, who is asking Harry Potter to The Lightning Bolt, sir," her smile broadened, eyes sparkling even brighter. It was a terrifying sight. "He is asking Harry Potter to come for Severus because he is lonely and only dreams of Harry Potter."
Severus' blood ran cold. His voice cracked, "Y-you...you did what?!"
She let out a dreamy sigh as she stared at the sleeping Harry, mouth agape and drool dribbled down his chin. With a final wink at Severus and a CRACK, the tiny house-elf was gone.
Harry jolted awake, "The fuck was that?! And where the fuck am—" His eyes widened as he took in Severus' startled expression, both from the house-elf's sudden departure, and the realisation that Harry Potter was indeed here, having fucked each other senseless not once, but twice.
Not an unbearably delicious dream. An even more unbearably delicious reality.
"Harry," he breathed.
"Yeah," Harry chuckled before cupping Severus' cheek to press a soft kiss to his lips.
Severus couldn't help the blush that surfaced as he recalled the night previous. Their naked forms, limbs tangled together in twisted sheets. They were still quite naked.
Harry bit his lip, rolling away from Severus and throwing his legs over the edge of the bed.
A sudden panic washed over Severus. "Are you leaving?" he said flatly in an attempt to quell his desperation.
Harry's face fell. "You...want me to leave," he stated stiffly.
Severus could have kicked himself. He reached out to pull Harry against him. "Of course not, you disaster of a man." Harry melted into him, Severus burying his face in his soft, tangled tresses. "I never thought this day would come."
"I don't think either of us did," said Harry, trailing his fingers across Severus' arm. "At least it was never supposed to...at least not...you know."
Severus could hear the pain in Harry's words, and his chest tightened.
"But you're The Boy Who Lived," said Severus sarcastically, eager to shift the mood back from a place neither of them wished to return to.
"And you're The Man Who Lived," said Harry, lifting his head. "So maybe, we should do this life thing together."
Severus' brow furrowed, searching Harry's face. He was smiling. His eyes were smiling. Those intoxicatingly lovely green eyes.
"But...why?" asked Severus, failing to mask the insecure little boy who never deserved to be loved.
"Fuck your why's! I want to be with you, and you are just going to have to accept that."
Severus stiffened in Harry's arms. How in Merlin's name had Severus managed to not only find Harry Potter in his bed but actually...wanting him. A tainted, broken, ugly man. Yet this man was so beautiful. As hard as he may try, there was no denying the truth and sincerity of Harry's words.
"I mean...unless you don't," said Harry nervously, dropping his eyes.
Before he could pull away, Severus grasped his chin, meeting Harry's anxious gaze. "I do. More than anything."
Harry's smile returned, throwing himself against the man as their lips met. Severus wrapped his arms around the muscled back, pulling him close.
Harry broke the kiss. "Think it's safe for me to use the loo now? Or do I need to propose first?"
Severus' mouth fell open. Harry pecked him on the nose before climbing out of bed.
Severus didn't know whether to strangle Dotty or kiss her.
When Harry slipped back into bed, Severus allowed himself to be taken into the man's strong embrace. Harry's breath on Severus' neck slowed, a sign that he'd fallen back asleep. Severus smiled to himself as sleep came for him as well, knowing for the first time he had fallen into a dream from which he would never have to wake.