Snarry-a-Thon23: FIC: The Want of You Title: The Want of You Author:Ephemeral (FleetingDesires) Other pairings/threesome: N/A Rating: E Word count: 7,375 Content/Warning(s): Hogwarts Eighth Year, Developing Relationship, Severus Snape POV, Humour, Severus comes unhinged, Sexual Tension, Explicit Sexual Content, Loss of Virginity, Clubbing, First Times Prompt: Wild Card 001 Summary: On his night off, Severus unexpectedly realises that Harry has grown into quite an attractive man.
He's just not going to think too hard about it. No, he's not going to think about him at all. It's fine. He's fine. Everything is fine. A/N: Big thanks to my Phenomenal beta, and all the friends who have supported me along the way!
Severus smirked as the boy — no, surely man now, given where they were — whirled around, and pointed said doe eyes at him.
“Snape!” His drink sloshed over his hand. “Oh, fuck.” Potter grabbed a napkin to wipe himself up. “What are—“
“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Severus really couldn’t help noticing his student’s body. Not with the way his sheer mesh top cut a deep V down his chest, barely obscuring Potter’s pierced nipples, or the dark trail of hair from the split in his shirt, drawing his eyes and mind into—
He was absolutely not going there. And what a shame he couldn’t, for so many reasons, but still. This was surely another of life’s cruel jokes played upon him, to put such a delectable treat in front of his very nose with an equally large do not touch sign.
Severus swallowed down his sigh and dragged his eyes back up to Potter’s startled face. Startled? Well, if he didn’t want others to look, then he certainly shouldn’t have given men like him so much to see. And there were certainly no rules against looking, not that Severus could have stopped himself anyway.
“As I was saying.” Severus pursed his lips. What had he been saying? Oh yes. “Do try to tone down that innocent look before you get eaten alive.”
“I— Why do you care?”
“If you get yourself into trouble, I can hardly stand by and watch. I have better plans for my night off than looking after you.”
Potter’s nostrils flared. Severus almost smirked again. Truly, the boy was too easily riled. He could almost hear— “I don’t need looking after. I’m a grown man!”
“Mm. Barely.”
“Enough.” Potter tilted his head in that familiar, defiant way, which only made him want to grab a fistful off his wayward hair and— No. He firmly ignored the tendrils of lust coiling in his gut.
“Enough… to be trusted off school grounds without a curfew, yes. But to prowl gay bars looking like this?” Severus took another long look at his body. “Innocence rolling off of you in waves? Are you grown enough for that?”
Uncertainty hunched his shoulders, but there was only one reaction to it that a Gryffindor was capable of. Potter rolled his shoulders back and looked Severus dead in the eye. “Yes.”
“Very well. Happy hunting then, Mr Potter.” Severus felt his gaze searing into his back, but he didn't turn around as he went back to the side of the bar he had come from.
Well, that was interesting, wasn't it? Severus mulled as he ordered himself another drink, nursing himself into a coherent state of mind. No wonder he had bucked everyone's expectations and cast off the Weasley chit after all. She hadn't had the right parts. Not that it mattered that Severus did, even if his parts begged to differ. The boy was firmly off limits, and Potter besides. If there was any clearer indication that it had been far too long since the last time Severus had gotten off with someone else, he didn't know what it could possibly be.
He let himself be distracted by a different warm body pressed up against his own. And to his luck, it was exactly of the sort he was in the mood for tonight: brazen, twinky, and more than eager to please. The man — Simon, he'd said his name was — didn't mind that half of Severus' attention was across the bar, as long as the half of it that was on him was on his slim hips and tight arse.
Simon minded it even less when his hand travelled up Severus' inner thigh to find his half-hard cock pinned against it. He stroked Severus as he gasped into his ear. "Gods, how big are you?" he breathed, whining softly when Severus hardened in his hand. "Come home with me, Severus. I need to feel this inside of me." He squeezed.
Severus squeezed his arse right back, humming as he nipped at Simon's ear. On any other night, he wouldn't have hesitated to say yes, for Simon was proving to be the sort of man that could appreciate all that Severus had to offer, and those were surprisingly uncommon.
But, of course, Potter had to choose that moment to turn a panicked look on him. A part of him mourned the perfect bed partner that was not to be, while another part of him… throbbed.
With no small amount of regret, he released Simon, making his apologies as he slid off his bar stool. Walking in this state was painful, but Severus grit his teeth and bore it, knowing it could only help with the situation.
Not enough, though, for as he grasped Potter by the back of his neck, the warmth of his skin sent Severus' thoughts to places it had no right to be. Still, he eyed the two burly men that were speaking to Potter.
"Is everything alright here, fellas?"
"We're just having a nice chat, aren't we?" Meathead Number 1 said. "Who're you?"
Severus lifted a brow and pulled Harry off of his seat. "I'm the one who'll be taking him home."
"Hey man, not cool. We were here first." Meathead Number 2 said, crossing his arms. As if Severus would be afraid of biceps the size of ships when his wand was secured against his forearm. "And we're not done talking."
"First or not, I think we can all agree that it's Harry's choice, yes?" He shot them a hard look, daring them to contradict him. "So for the avoidance of doubt, Harry, who do you want to go home with?"
Severus nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Harry's arm wrap around his hip. "You," Harry said, looking at Severus' shoes.
"Let's go, then." He couldn't care less about the grumbling men, only that they wouldn't follow him and Harry as he pulled the boy out of the bar. Harry didn't seem to have any inclination to let go of him, and although he knew the endless amount of trouble he'd be in if anyone saw them like this, Severus could hardly tear himself away when Harry clung to him so tightly.
So arm in arm they walked, silent as Severus guided them to a deserted alley nearby and Apparated them to Hogwarts' gates. Harry clutched at his shirt a moment longer before his arm dropped, forcing Severus to release him as well when he stepped away.
"Sorry for ruining your night off," he mumbled.
"Wasn't the first time, and I'm doubtful it will be the last. Put it out of your mind," Severus said as he strode away, unsettled by this sheepish Potter. When he didn't hear footsteps behind him, he turned around.
No one in a sheer shirt should look this crushed, Severus thought. But why did it have to be him to correct this error? He sighed, and walked back to the boy.
"Chin up, Gryffindor," he said, lifting Harry's chin himself for emphasis. Stormy green eyes finally met his, for the first time since they'd left the bar. "Take it as a lesson and move on."
"What lesson?" His breath was almost syrupy sweet, with a hint of… mint? Ah, yes, now he remembered what the man had been sipping on tonight. Severus wondered if he'd pronounced mojito correctly. He wondered if the sweetness lingered anywhere else on him.
"You had best figure it out on your own, for you've never learnt a thing from me." Severus straightened, releasing Harry before his thoughts could wander any further. "Goodnight."
When he started for the castle this time, Harry followed, if ten paces behind him. But that was quite alright, because Severus needed the space to think.
What was he going to do now that he'd discovered the boy had become a man he wanted to kiss?
The thing that people never realised was that an Occlumens was only capable of shielding their thoughts from others, and not from themselves.
Oh, sure, Severus could avoid his thoughts. He could actively put them aside, stuff them under a trapdoor in his mind, and he could do it so quickly that only the mere wisp of it remained. That, however, was the extent of his mental mastery. The avoidance tactics available to every human with a functional brain cell, which he used to great effect during his eighth-year Defence classes, meals in the Great Hall, and every time a mop of wild hair shared a hallway with him.
In two months, he'd never willingly let those thoughts free. Unwillingly, however, was another story. It was as though his mind and body were at war with each other, and the moment there was a single vulnerability in one, the other would strike.
Take, for example, how Severus found himself groaning awake two weeks after the Bar Incident, his cock pulsing in his hand from a particularly vivid dream featuring a particularly vivid man.
From then on, Severus learned that it was impossible to let himself have a minute's rest. Every time his mind drifted off — from grading too long, or brewing too long, or having actual sex with an actual person in their actual bed, or even taking a godsdamn shower — it went back to the same place, with Harry's dream-moans sounding in his ears, and his dream arse riding Severus into oblivion.
He wasn't quite bone-tired — not even this much sexual frustration could match the stress of being a triple agent in wartime — but he knew that this level of forced productivity was not sustainable. He'd already written two full-length papers to be submitted to Potions Quarterly, and five patents for the various potions he'd created over the years. Patents. One could not conceive of the amount of paperwork a single application entailed, let alone five.
At least it was only three months until the peace-destroying bastard would graduate and get the hell out of his daily life.
Before that, however, it seemed that Harry was intent on making it as hard on him as possible. At this point, the pun was absolutely intended.
Severus stared at his closed office door, then at the man on the wrong (right!) side of it. "Are you in the right place, Potter?"
"Er. Yes? I mean, you're here."
"Seeing as it is my office, and it being my office hours, I would hope so. You, however, have never attended an office hour in your life."
"Um." Harry closed his eyes, and seemed to suck in a fortifying breath. When he opened them again, his insecurity had vanished. And damn, if Harry strutted every-the-fuck-where he went just like that all the time—
No.
Harry sat in a chair across from him, dropping his book bag on the floor. "I'm here now."
It took Severus a moment to recall where, exactly, the conversation had left off. "For a course you require no help in," Severus said flatly, not quite understanding the point of his visit.
"No. But I think… maybe I need help with something else."
"Please say anything but that your scar is hurting again."
"What? No!" Severus had absolutely not been joking, and his private sigh of relief was genuine — cut short as it was by Harry's next words. "I mean… that thing. At the bar."
Severus blinked. And stared. And stared some more. "I can't imagine what sort of help you'd want from me, much less why you think I would ever agree to do so."
"Look, I—" Harry stopped. Then, intentionally or not, he turned his doe eyes onto Severus. Fuck. It didn't help either that his face got progressively redder as he said, "I thought I knew what the lesson was, and I went back to the bar again, but I still… couldn't."
Why Severus had expected anything but vague nonsense was beyond him. "Couldn't…?"
"You know…" Harry very slowly, very sheepishly raised his hands to perform a rude gesture.
"Mr Potter!"
"You asked!" he squeaked. And then one of them must have lost their marbles somewhere along the way, because Harry laughed. "Oh my god, I can't believe I just did that."
"I should have you expelled for that," Severus grumbled, and maybe it was him who had lost it, because he didn't sound convincing even to himself. "You cannot seriously be asking me for help to… to… hook up!"
"Snape, I spent my teenage years fighting a bloody war. I don't know how to do any of this, only that I want to. There's no one else I know to ask."
"Charlie Weasley," Severus fired back. In hindsight, maybe he shouldn't have spat that out so quickly. Thankfully, Harry hadn't batted an eye.
"He's—? Oh. No, for various reasons, the biggest being that he's in Romania."
The man had a fair point. "Your Gryffindor roommates."
"Attached at the hip since third year, what would either of them know?"
"Oliver Wood."
Harry paused. A-ha! "He lost his boyfriend during the final battle." Oh.
"…Bellamy Finch."
"Who?"
"Ravenclaw two years above you. I believe he's studying at Oxford."
"Please don't start listing all your gay ex-students."
Severus pursed his lips. "I simply don't understand the difficulty. You go to a bar, find someone you like, and take them somewhere a little more private than a room full of people. Which step is unclear?"
"The second one."
"Have you considered lowering your standards?"
"Tell that to my cock," Harry muttered under his breath.
Severus chucked the mental image of a very intimate, face-to-face chat with Harry's cock into the abyss. No way, no sir, not thinking about it right now. Or ever. "I'm going to ignore that," he said out loud, just for good measure.
The dirty thought clung to the edges of his mind with the sheer power of Harry's flaming cheeks. "If only I could, though," Harry soldiered on anyway. "Sometimes it's all I can think about. That need."
A growl escaped Severus without his volition. The infuriating man dared to speak to him of need, dared to say it so close to a moan that set numerous fantasies free. Fantasies in which he said need like that, as in I need you, or need your cock in me, or I need more. Fantasies in which he whimpered, and begged, and squirmed in his bed from all the need.
"Would you stop bloody looking at me like that," Severus snapped. The damnable doe eyes were back in full force, highlighting his dilated pupils. Whatever he was thinking about, Severus would bet good money it made him hard even as he sat across from Severus. And wasn't that a thought. The both of them, sitting across from each other, each hiding that they were hard in their trousers.
"You growled at me."
"You frustrate me."
"How?" A confused look passed his face, and that— that was really— altogether too much. Severus clamped his eyes shut against it.
"Just… get out of my office, Potter. I'm done talking about this."
A beat, then two passed before he heard the scrape of a chair. "Fine. Okay. Er… Thanks, I guess."
"Out."
"Yes, I'm going." The door opened and shut, and Severus peeked an eye open to find his office empty of frustratingly appealing brats once more. Fucking finally. With a flick of his wand, the lock on his door slid in place.
He just needed two damn minutes of privacy. Severus really doubted it would take much longer than that.
Cigarette butts littered the ground at his feet. Severus didn't care. He needed something to focus on other than his stupidity. First, in sending the note — Friday, 11pm, apparition point. Wear that slutty outfit. — and second, in not rescinding the invitation.
It was 11 sharp, now. Too late to rescind it even if he'd wanted to. Merlin help him, but he didn't want to. Severus could scream.
From a distance, he saw a black blur shooting out of one of the courtyards, racing towards him at an inhuman speed. Severus' heart pounded hard, but as the details resolved into view, he couldn't help but chuckle. 11.02pm, and Harry had to take his Firebolt for the last stretch.
"Sorry, sorry," Harry said, slightly out of breath even though all he'd done was ride a broom. He climbed off of it, and sent it presumably back to whence it came. "Had to wait until the coast was clear. I nearly just launched off from my bedroom window."
"That's against school regulations, so don't tell me even if you did." Merlin, but Harry's outfit was not any less provocative on the second viewing.
"So's smoking," Harry pointed out. "You know that's bad for you, right?"
"I honestly don't care." Severus crushed the remainder of his cigarette under his heel anyway. What he did care about was the way Harry's hair made him look like he'd stuck a finger in an electric socket. And since Harry himself didn't seem to realise it, he had no choice but to comb it to its regular levels of insanity for him. "That's as good as it'll ever get, I suppose."
"Thanks." Severus ignored the fierce blush on Harry's face. "Where are we going?"
"London."
"Okay, but wh—" Severus Disapparated them in the middle of Harry's sentence, and brought them to a little alley ten minutes from SoHo. Did he mean to do that? Yes. And did he intend for Harry to cling to him upon Apparating? Severus couldn't have anticipated quite how clumsy the Saviour of the Wizarding World could be around magical transportation. Not only did he cling, but he stumbled so hard that Severus found himself pressed against a brick wall.
Severus lifted a brow at the man pressed to his chest. "Buy me a drink first, at least."
Harry snorted, dropping his head to Severus' shoulder. "Just kill me now."
"The only deaths in your future will be little ones, if I have anything to say about it."
"What?" As expected, the reference flew right over Harry's head, gracing Severus with the puzzled look that he'd come to appreciate, now that it wasn't appearing in the middle of his Potions class.
"Nothing." He paused, waiting to be released from his pleasant captivity, but Harry's puzzlement only grew even as his gaze dropped to Severus' lips.
Oh, no. (Oh, yes.)
No. (Yes.)
No.
Severus licked his lips. "This alley was not the main attraction I had planned for the night, Harry."
"Yeah…" Harry cleared his throat, dropping his eyes as he moved away. "Right. Where then?"
Severus led the way, weaving through the little streets of SoHo. The pounding bass of music filtering out of the nightclub gave him the slightest beat of pause. What in Merlin's name did he think he was doing, bringing one of his students here? A den of iniquity that he had not visited himself in a long time, and surely, at 40, was far too old for. His eardrums, for one, might not recover.
But Harry… Severus slid his eyes towards him, then to the strangers eyeing him with appreciative looks that the man himself barely registered. Harry had made some quite unarguable points earlier that week. The war had consumed his entire childhood, taken away his opportunity to develop the usual teenage friendships and opportunities for discovery, and it was a war that Severus had played no small part in instigating. This, then, was part of his penance, too. To set Harry up for success, he'd give him the tools to find that happy future he deserved.
Even if it started with introducing him to the world of gay debauchery.
Harry's eyes widened when they approached the bouncer, and the moment they got past him, he hissed, "Snape! I know you're trying, but look. What am I supposed to do here? I can't dance!"
Severus reflected on that ludicrous notion. "This is not a style of dancing anyone can be bad at. Or if they are, you should stay far, far away from them. You don't want to be in that group, do you?"
Harry grabbed at his arm as they progressed deeper into the club, both music and the madding crowd truly invading their senses now. Severus would be lying to claim that he minded the necessity of pressing their bodies together to have a hope of conversation. The moment Severus stopped — at the bar, conveniently — Harry leaned close. "Now what?"
Severus rolled his eyes, indicating the bar. While waiting to be served, he scanned the room — and immediately felt like an old paper bag. He reminded himself again that he was here for a reason, and need never return, and when he ordered their drinks, added an extra shot for himself in service of forgetting his age. Harry, though, fit right in. He wasn't the only one showing off plenty of skin; some had already lost their shirts, while others still looked like they hadn't lost them at all, but were confident that a harness across their chest was sufficient clothing for the venue. Severus smirked wryly as Harry stared at one of them winding their way to the dance floor. That innocence was almost precious.
"If you're so curious, maybe you should ask him what the harness is for."
"And expose how young I am? No thanks."
Severus lifted a brow and gave him a very obvious onceover. "Trust me, he is not going to mind."
Harry was saved from replying by the bartender lining up five shot glasses in front of them. Severus blinked at the speed with which he downed the shot of tequila, barely grimacing as he sucked on a wedge of lemon.
Severus hurried to catch up, and all the better for it as he'd had to block Harry from snagging the last one. After all, he didn't want to have to explain why he was carting a drunk Harry Potter into the castle. And damn, did it feel good. It burned the tension from his veins, and the warmth in his belly was almost akin to that of a good Firewhiskey. Memories of other tequila-soaked nights spent just like this came rushing back, and when Harry glared and mouthed Not fair! at him, Severus could only grin, laughing at the shock on Harry's face before he dragged him by the wrist to the dance floor.
He took them right into a throng of bodies, his eyes nearly falling shut before he remembered that he was here to teach. He bent to Harry's ear, cupping his head to hold him still. "Close your eyes. and feel the music. Feel the tequila in your veins and the people around you. Forget that you don't know how, and just do."
Harry still had his eyes open when Severus straightened. Slowly, they fell shut, and Severus threw his head back, taking his own advice, letting his limbs unfold and remember. Remember what it was like without the weight of the world on his shoulders, how he'd once craved this just to feel happy to be alive. How out here, on the dance floor, he'd felt like a part of something good for once, and the tattoo on his arm made him an object of desire instead of derision. And finally, at the peak of inebriation and dancing, how he could dance with anyone for the price of a wink.
But right now, Severus couldn't allow himself to truly lose himself in all of it yet. He kept moving to the music, folding his shirtsleeves as he kept an eye on Harry. Harry, whose eyes were scrunched closed, was still awkwardly shuffling his feet, still maintaining the merest sliver of an invisible wall between himself and the crowd. And as though he'd felt Severus' eyes on him, his own opened, full of uncertainty and doubt.
Severus couldn't let that stand; not here, not in this place. And damned if he knew why it felt so natural to draw Harry to him, or why he felt so perfect cradled against his chest. He trailed his hands down Harry's arms, letting them come to rest on his hips. "Try again, Harry. Clear your mind." A memory of worse times floated to the surface at those words. "Maybe this time we'll have better success."
Harry's laughter released some of the tension in his body, and Severus took the opportunity to sway him, and try to ease him into letting go. It was a little awkward at first, but that was always bound to happen. Harry was constantly half a beat behind Severus as he tried to copy his movements, while Severus was desperately trying to fight his body, which knew how to properly dance with a partner much, much better than it did marionetting one.
Then, in the downbeats from one song to the next, Severus felt something imperceptible shift, and he knew that the lesson had clicked into place for Harry. Suddenly, he didn't have a puppet in his arms, but a hotblooded young man starting to lose himself to the rhythm.
Severus dipped his head, nestling his nose in the wilderness of Harry's hair. Harry's increasing confidence was intoxicating, and feeling his body undulate, moving, grinding against his, Severus knew he had to release his hold soon, and take a step back to hide the effect Harry was having on his body. He could already feel the tension building in his groin, his cock swelling against the friction.
Before he could do anything, though, Harry took his hands and guided them up his body, over the slight dip at his waist, over his toned stomach and flat chest, to rest with his thumbs against the rings he'd worn in his nipples. Instinctively, he played with them, tracing the circles and flicking the hard nubs they were attached to.
Harry's heart pounded under his touch, even as he arched and sought for more. More from Severus' hands, more from Severus' cock, his fingers tangling in Severus' hair in an unspoken demand to stay in place.
Severus swore. And then, Severus obeyed, lying to himself that this was part of the night's lesson, too. Dancing first as seduction, and now, dancing as foreplay. And if the swell in his trousers was undeniable, it was only proof that Harry was doing it right. It needn't go any further than helping Harry shed his inhibitions, make his body as desperate as his mind was to lose his virginity.
And as much as he hated that it was not for him, how could Severus deny himself of having a little nibble first? Harry was too sweet, too tempting to be left alone, especially when he'd offered himself up like this, pert arse seeking something to rub against and his breaths coming faster under Severus' hands.
Severus quivered as he held his body tight against the urge to grab, to take, to mark, and still, he couldn't control rolling his hips, just the slightest bit of tactile feedback in encouragement, and it felt so wildly, excruciatingly good that he wrenched himself away, afraid that if he didn't do it now he wouldn't be able to do it at all.
And gods, perhaps it was already too late, because one look at Harry's glazed expression was all it took for him to crumble and yank the man right back into his arms for a searing kiss.
There wasn't a shred of hesitation before Harry kissed him back, opening and inviting Severus to taste and tease and tangle, the rest of him clutching and desperate and this was no longer foreplay, with the way Harry ground his straining erection against Severus' own.
Severus tore his lips away, and pressed Harry's groin into his own to still him. "Harry, stop, please stop," he growled.
Harry's whine rose above the noise of the club. "Can't," he said, still gripping onto him, every part of him clinging, demanding. "I want you, Snape, please." He licked at Severus' earlobe, his hands clenching in his hair. "Please."
Severus swore, nipping at Harry's jaw to get a little more of his taste in his mouth before he tugged Harry away from the dance floor. By some major miracle, a couple was just exiting a handicap stall as they passed the bathrooms; Severus swerved, cut the line, and locked the both of them in to furious yells of protest. Severus didn't care. They wouldn't be here long enough to face the consequences.
"What are you—" Harry began to hiss. Severus wrapped an arm around him.
"Hold on."
At the moment, Severus couldn't care any less about the Statute of Secrecy. With the loud music and copious alcohol, it was a risk he was willing to take. Far more urgent was his need to have Harry in a room with a bed, and he took them to the first place he thought of, uncaring that he’d cut Harry off by Apparating yet again.
But, first things first. He hadn't been at Spinner's End in months, and with a few flicks of his wand, the windows threw themselves open, and the dusty bedcover was spirited into the hall.
Harry gaped at him. "Merlin, Snape, why was that so hot?" he said, as Severus turned a lamp on.
"Because you like breaking rules, and I broke them for the want of you." Severus stalked forward, but stopped himself just shy of touching Harry again. "Be sure, Harry."
Harry pulled at him once more. Right before he kissed him, he said, "God, just touch me."
The next few minutes were a blur as hands and clothing went everywhere. Harry drove him mad with his fumbling hands, but eventually, Severus managed to tip a naked Harry on to his bed. And heavens, what a sight he made. Flushed and hard everywhere, his cock already twitching, leaking onto the trimmed patch around it. Delicious.
He crawled between Harry's legs, repressing a shiver at the slide of their skin. He let Harry look and touch his fill as he settled over him. Severus contented himself for the moment with watching the play of emotions on Harry's face as fingers traced and bumped over his scars, lingering over an old, ugly gash in his side for an uncomfortably long moment before they wrapped around his cock, stroking him almost timidly.
Severus didn't have any words for what he saw. What could he have said? These are the evidence of my mistakes — Why should you care to take my pain away — Why do I want to let you try — Don't treat me like glass or I may shatter? No, none of these, surely none of these, but there was nothing else to say. He simply pressed all of it into a hard kiss, making Harry gasp and writhe and stroke him harder, and good. This, he knew how to navigate.
Licking his way to Harry's neck, he sucked gently as he sought a nipple and pulled on the ring. "Snape!" Harry yelled, bucking under him, and oh, that wouldn't do at all.
"Severus," he growled, pulling on the nipple ring again. "Use my name."
"Severus," Harry repeated. "Fuck, that feels so good," he said, pulling Severus' cock alongside his and groaning again when Severus thrust against him. Harry peeked at their frotting before he threw his head back. "Merlin, Severus, your cock is obscene. Please tell me there's a spell that will make you fit."
Severus cursed at the suggestion, the thought of squeezing himself into Harry's tight, untried hole making him almost feral with need. But it was precisely because he was so untried that Severus restrained his body, resting his forehead against Harry's as he took a few breaths to calm himself.
"Is that what you want tonight?"
"As long as you can promise not to split me in half," Harry replied seriously.
"Yes. I promise." Severus would have laughed if the enormity of his offer could have stopped boggling his mind. He couldn't help but to press Harry, to make sure once again. "I know it's your first time—"
"And that is precisely the problem. I'm crawling out of my skin with it. Please." He frotted against Severus, little moans escaping him as he leaked even more, demonstrating the impatience of his desire. His hips moved faster. "Fuck, hurry up or I'll come like this."
"Yeah?" Severus matched the speed of Harry's hips, egging him on. With a thought, lube covered his palm, and he wrapped it around their joined lengths for a tight, slick slide. "Show me."
"Oh, fuck." Harry peeked between them again, watching his cock slip in and out of Severus' fist, rubbing along Severus' cock and still not touching the tip of it. "Oh, fuck," he swore again, throwing his head back on a cry as he came, making a glorious mess of himself and Severus' fist.
Severus stroked him through it, his own cock crying out for more, but he forced himself to stop before Harry could get overstimulated.
While waiting for Harry to come down, he lapped up Harry's seed, cleaning up every drop before he sat up, reached for his wand, and vanished the mess on his hand. His cock was wet enough from everything that it didn't need any more.
Harry was still panting when Severus grabbed him by the ankles and flipped him over.
"Merlin, warn a man next time," Harry squawked, but wriggled to get comfortable in his new position anyway. Well, that was as clear a signal as any that the man was well and truly ready to be fucked.
Next time? "No," Severus said smoothly. He took nice handfuls of Harry's arse, kneading the pert globes as he parted them. "What a pretty little hole you have, Harry."
Harry made a strangled noise, and the bed bounced with his head crashing into it. "Please don't describe it like that," he said, muffled by the mattress.
Severus grinned wolfishly. "But it's true." Wetting his tongue, he licked a wide stripe up his crease, humming in pleasure. Fuck, but he was too impatient for this right now. Too impatient for the non-magical method of preparation which he preferred. Instead, he tapped his wand to Harry's arse, casting his own blended spell to make Harry's body ready for penetration in a matter of seconds.
As always, the spells made the target shudder. "God, yes," Harry breathed anyway, getting his knees underneath him, presenting his now wet and loosened hole so prettily. He reached under and around himself to prod at it, moaning softly before his hand retreated.
Severus growled at the sight, at the sheer wantonness of this virgin. Something about all of this should be a crime. Nothing that felt as good as he felt simply notching the head of his cock at Harry's hole could ever be a good thing.
Harry whimpered, rocking back against him. "Severus."
Severus really, really tried to take it slow, for even with the help of spells there was bound to be some discomfort, and at the least, some strangeness from being filled for the first time. Not to mention that with how large he was, the skin around Harry's rim stretched to white to accommodate him.
"Fuck, I think you're ruining me," Harry moaned amidst his whimpers.
Severus was barely halfway in, trying to remind himself that for as much as he felt like he was sinking into warm butter, it was a lie. He came to a stop with a groan, stretching his fingers out from where they had been clamped on Harry's arse.
"I don't want to ruin you," Severus murmured, crawling forward to drape himself over Harry's body. He placed soft kisses along his shoulders, hoping that it would soothe whatever Harry was feeling. "Does it hurt?"
Harry raised to his elbows, turning his head towards Severus. "No," he whispered, kissing Severus lightly. "Just a lot. But keep going."
Severus was a little doubtful that Harry knew his own body, but there was nothing he could do but to press on anyway. With a hand on Harry's chest, his forehead dropped to Harry's shoulder. He gritted his teeth every time his cock jumped, gritted it against that eagerness to mindlessly take. Severus kept his focus so firmly that when he'd finally sheathed himself fully inside Harry, he had none left to stop the moan from escaping out of his throat.
Harry moaned as well in apparent sympathy, tilting his head back against Severus'. "You've done it," he said, needlessly. "Oh god, there's so much."
The correct response, at this point, was take all the time you need. But Severus thought he might burst out of his skin if forced to say those words now, so he settled for kissing and nipping and touching wherever he could to seduce Harry into desperation once more. "Fuck, Harry," he mumbled into his skin. "What you do to me."
"What?" Harry asked, startling Severus. He hadn't thought he had said that loud enough to be heard.
Instead of answering with words, he simply moved. Shallow thrusts of no more than an inch or two, teasing himself even as he felt so far beyond his tolerance for teasing. He took Harry's cock in his hand, stroking him at the same time. It wasn't even all that much, and yet, Severus was breathing hard, his free hand fisting in the sheets, concentrating his tension somewhere safe.
And the moment Harry's cock began to fill in his hand, Severus gave it several rough strokes before he took Harry's hips instead. "Tell me if I hurt you," he said, the only warning he gave Harry before he drew his hips back, then slammed it back home with a heavy slap. Severus gave a heavy groan of satisfaction as his grip on Harry tightened to do it over and over again, relishing in the tightness of his hole and his long-denied pleasure.
Harry's breath had punched out of him at the first stroke, but he recovered quickly with a gasp at the next. "Fucking hell," he breathed, slamming a hand against the headboard. "Fucking, fucking hell, don't fucking stop!" His other hand came up to join the first, and when Severus growled at him, he used his leverage to rock right back into Severus.
Merlin, what a sight he made. Severus remembered all the dirty thoughts that had made his cock hard when Harry had been grinding against him on the dance floor, but the reality of it was liable to make his brain leak out of his ears. With how feral he felt, Severus couldn't discount it just yet.
This, he thought, this is what you do to me. You bring me low with desire, with mindless need, reduced to something more animal than man. Your guileless, hungry pleasure stirs me to these unthinkable depths — you'll be my ruin yet, Harry, and I don't think I care if I could only be sated with you.
Severus fucked him harder and faster, and faster yet, needing more and more and so greedy for it that he barely resisted the urge to take a chunk out of Harry. Instead, he snarled to have Harry's flesh between his teeth, and in soothing the hurt with his tongue, decided that his taste was an acceptable substitute. But he couldn't get enough of it this way. He needed more. More.
He drew his cock out of Harry just slow enough not to cause injury, catching a flash of his hungry hole grasping at nothing before he pried Harry off the headboards and threw him to his back. And it seemed that Severus wasn't the only desperate one. Harry spread his legs open and wide himself, welcoming Severus between them. "Back inside me," he demanded.
Severus wasn't at all inclined to argue, setting a steady rhythm immediately as he lowered himself to taste Harry from his source. It couldn't even be called kissing, at this point. Tongue-fucking, maybe, but sharing their breaths and having Harry's hands all over him was more than he'd had before.
Eventually, it was with deep regret that his body conceded to the fact that he couldn't keep this up forever. Panting as he slowed, he lifted Harry's legs for a better angle, searching for the angle that—
"Oh fuck, Severus—" Harry threw his head back, his toes curling in Severus' periphery.
— That would make both Harry and his cock weep.
Severus locked into that angle, and made sure that with each stroke, his entire length dragged over that sweet spot. With his legs held in place, there was nothing Harry could do but take it, and from the way he cried out and seemed about to levitate off the bed, the pleasure must have been overwhelming indeed. Oh, how gloriously sensitive he was.
Harry gave into the urge to touch himself after only a couple more strokes. Severus snarled. "Hands off!"
At Harry's startled look, Severus forced himself into a gentler tone. "Trust me. Keep your hands away and I'll make you fly."
For a second, Harry seemed about to argue, and Severus couldn't blame him for it. How was he to know? But then he nodded, his hands fisting in the bedsheets.
"Very good," Severus purred, sinking his cock long and deep until he felt Harry's walls tremble around him, his body held as taut as his cock pointing straight up in the air. With a growl, Severus picked up speed, relentlessly pegging Harry's prostate until he cried, then screamed. Streaks and streaks of cum jetted out of Harry in what seemed, even to Severus, to be a never-ending orgasm.
Severus groaned with him, needing to fuck Harry through it, yet the clenching of Harry's muscles dragged him to his own peak against his will. He shot deep inside that milking arse, mind and body both shuddering with the force of his climax. When he came back to himself, it was to find his hips grinding ever-deeper circles into Harry, as if it was his cock's will that it be buried there for all eternity.
Severus would have snorted at himself were he not already wondering if Harry would be back in his bed again.
Harry, like him, was still drawing deep breaths in through his mouth, though his eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling. Severus couldn't help but feel smug, and it gave him the push he needed to slowly withdraw from Harry's body.
"Fuck," Harry swore, sounding punched out even though he must have recovered some of his breath by now. Severus had to agree with the sentiment as he watched his cum spill out of Harry's loose hole and puddle in the sheets. There was so much of it, too, with Harry obviously putting in an effort to push it out as it leaked in spurts.
Wait.
He lifted his gaze and found Harry blushing, but defiantly meeting his gaze anyway.
Severus shifted up his body, brushing his cheeks first with his fingers, then his lips. "You have a very dirty mind, Harry Potter."
"So do you." Harry paused, searching his eyes for something, though Severus knew not what. "Does that make us well matched?"
It was Severus' turn to search Harry's eyes. Unguarded as it was, he had an almost violent urge to test his wandless Legilimency skills. He refrained, contenting himself with the base facts of his sincerity and the pounding of his heart belying Harry's nerves. Fucking was one thing, even repeatedly, but what Harry was suggesting was… Was it something he could even consider? With Harry being who he was, which was largely in opposition to who Severus was, it didn't seem like a match that would make any sense.
And yet, despite all of the things that didn't make sense, they were both here in Severus' bed, and Severus was tempted, and it was more than the thought of more mind blowing sex. Severus didn't know what it was yet — all he knew was that he'd wanted more, and had yet to get his fill.
"Perhaps," was all he finally answered, his face twitching into a smile at the beam he received from Harry. "Would you like to find out together?"