SNARRY-A-THON10: FIC: A Hundred Million Suns Title: A Hundred Million Suns Author:eriador117 Other pairings/threesome: Some past het pairings, nothing graphic though. Rating: NC-17 Word count: Approx. 7,900 Warning(s): (highlight for spoilers) *UST - eventually resolved ;), some hints of D/s, light bondage. Virgin!Harry, Harry with sub tendencies.* Prompt:13: Harry is impotent (either by magic or simple biology). For once, he does his own research and finds a treatment that can help him. At the same time, he becomes aware that Snape has romantic feelings for him. Still hung up on the idea of taking revenge on the man, he decides to kill two birds with one stone. He suggests to Snape, without outright saying so, that after he's cured, he'd like to pursue a relationship with him, all the time intending to laugh in the man's face at the end. Unfortunately for him, Harry never learned to finish reading his texts. What will happen when Harry has to move in with Snape for the very strict regimen of potions, taken at varied and unpredictable intervals, over the course of 69 days? A/N: Thanks to my wonderful beta, rakina :)
A Hundred Million Suns
Cho had told him that she'd arranged a surprise for him for his twenty-first birthday and had chased Harry out of the flat early that morning. When Harry returned later that afternoon, the surprise wasn't what he'd been anticipating. There were trunks and suitcases strewn all over the living room floor and Cho was rapidly trying to fill them with her possessions, both by hand and with spells. Harry stood in the doorway, not moving, not speaking.
Cho looked up and clutched her hand to her chest when she saw Harry standing there. "Harry! You gave me a fright. I wasn't expecting you back so soon."
"Obviously. What's going on?"
"I thought it would be easier this way."
"You're leaving me? I thought you understood, Cho. I really did."
Her eyes softened. "Harry, I love you. I'll always love you, but we can't go on like this. You know we can't. I need something you can't give me. Maybe if you'd sought out treatment before now, but it's too late."
"I can go to St. Mungo's, see one of the healers today," Harry said in a rush. "I don't want you to go."
"It's for the best, Harry," she replied. "You don't love me. We're more like friends or brother and sister rather than lovers. Maybe that was what was wrong all along. Maybe with someone else you wouldn't even have had a problem."
"I don't think it works like that," Harry said softly.
"You could be right." Cho stood up and searched through the drawer underneath the bookcase. "Here, I got you some books on it. There might be something you can try."
"But not with you."
"No, Harry. I can't do this anymore, it's too hard and it isn't fair on you. Our relationship has been one-sided and I just can't live with the guilt any longer. I feel like I've been taking advantage of you all this time."
"You haven't! I get pleasure too."
Cho shook her head. "No, you don't. You used to, but now you're just going through the motions to please me. That is no basis for a relationship, Harry. We'll both be better off." Cho shut the lid on the last few suitcases before shrinking them and putting them in her pocket. She kissed him on the cheek. "Goodbye, Harry... And good luck."
* * * * *
For the first two weeks after she'd gone, Harry could hardly bear to look at the books, so much did they remind him of what he'd lost. Cho. Before her, Luna, and before that Ginny. Despite having had three girlfriends, Harry Potter was still a virgin. He was impotent and had been since he was seventeen. That first time with Ginny, they'd laughed about it, thinking it was just nerves about getting caught in Arthur's shed at the Burrow. But when they'd tried again at Grimmauld Place with the house to themselves, it was the same problem all over again. No matter what they'd tried, Harry had remained stubbornly flaccid. Ginny gave him up as a lost cause and a few weeks later, back at Hogwarts, she'd returned to Michael Corner.
When Luna Lovegood had asked Harry out to Hogsmeade one Valentine's Day, he'd taken her up on the offer just so no one else would get the chance to ask him. A few weeks after that, Luna hinted that she might be interested in more than just the occasional snog in the Astronomy Tower. Harry panicked that his problem would happen again and of course it did. Luna however, didn't laugh at him but taught him a few things men could do to pleasure a woman without needing a cock for it. They enjoyed themselves together until Harry left Hogwarts and Luna split up with him, telling him he needed to see the world and that things would right themselves in the end.
Harry had been living with Cho for six months and at first she'd seemed to understand and hadn't seemed too bothered that they couldn't have intercourse, for Harry had remembered Luna's lessons very well and he now knew how to please a woman with his fingers and tongue. Cho had been ecstatic at first that Harry didn't want to fuck her, but did want to please her despite being unable to get an erection or have an orgasm himself. In the end though, both had come to realise it was not what either of them wanted. It wasn't really something shared and maybe Cho had been right to end it when she did.
* * * * *
Harry skimmed through the books Cho had bought him and they all seemed to be fairly consistent in advising that the best treatment for his problem would be a potion regime. Unfortunately, Harry also knew the person who brewed the best potions in Britain was Severus Snape. His heart lurched as in his mind's eye he saw once again the dreadful sight of Albus Dumbledore falling from the Astronomy Tower that night. How could he seek out Dumbledore's murderer for help? It didn't matter to Harry that Dumbledore's Pensieve testimony, and even his portrait, had exonerated Snape; Harry knew he could never forgive the man for the cold-hearted look in his eyes as he'd cast the spell to end Dumbledore's life. But the reality was that if he wanted to be cured, Snape was his best option.
* * * * *
Harry stood outside in the rain, hands in his pockets as he watched the house at Spinner's End. He'd been coming here on and off for the past two weeks but as yet there had been no sign of Snape at all. The house seemed deserted; Harry had already looked through the ground floor windows and peered through the letter box, but no one appeared to be home.
"Looking for Mr. Snape, are you?"
Harry turned to see an elderly woman wrapped in a raincoat with a shopping basket over one arm. "Yes, I am."
"He hasn't been back for a while. He's thinking of selling; I have the keys for the estate agents. You're not an estate agent, are you?"
Harry shook his head. "Um, no. I'm..." But what was he? They certainly weren't friends, hardly even colleagues or comrades-in-arms any more.
The woman gave Harry the once-over, her eyes lingering on his scar. Harry hastily patted his wet fringe down.
"Oh! How silly of me! You must be Harry, his young man! Let's get in out of the rain and have a nice cup of tea. You must be cold standing out here in the rain!" She delved in her basket for a set of keys and opened the front door to the house next door to Snape's before beckoning Harry inside.
"His young man?" Harry asked incredulously once he was in the hallway and the front door had shut behind him.
She winked and smiled at him. "You've nothing to worry about from me, dear. I may be old, but I'm not old-fashioned. I know these things go on and it was pretty obvious from the start that young Severus didn't have an eye for the ladies. He told me you'd had an argument and he was going away for a while to think things through."
The tale was just getting more and more preposterous the longer she talked! Snape had told his neighbour that they were an item? But why? Snape hated Harry, didn't he? Or maybe he was just putting people off so they didn't keep organising blind dates for him. Harry could well imagine this woman doing things like that. "You don't happen to know where he's gone? It's really important that I see him."
"You want to kiss and make up?" Her smile broadened further.
"Something like that," Harry said wondering if she could tell he was lying.
"He's gone to Portugal."
* * * * *
Harry couldn't get an International Portkey at such short notice; there were maintenance works on the Floo system and he wasn't feeling up to flying that far on a broom so he opted for a Muggle plane journey instead. By the time he reached Portugal he was hot, exhausted and not in the best of moods. On the plane he'd been stuck in front of a child who kept kicking the back of his seat during the whole flight and he'd been so uncomfortable he'd been tempted to hex the brat and worry about the Statute of Secrecy later. It certainly did not occur to him that he was sounding very like Snape right then.
Snape was staying outside a small fishing village called Alvor. Harry had already booked himself into an apartment there, so at least he would have somewhere to say if Snape told him to get lost. He'd have a holiday out of this trip if nothing else. Once he'd checked into his apartment and left his suitcase he headed off to find Villa Rosa, where Snape was staying.
The house was a whitewashed bungalow with a terracotta tiled roof and jaunty yellow trim round the window frame and doors. Pink and purple bougainvillea climbed the walls and other scrubby shrubs dotted the garden, adding to the colourful effect. It was so normal, so bright and un-Snapelike that Harry wondered if Snape's neighbour had given him the right address, or had sent him off on a wild goose chase. It didn't seem natural that Snape was living somewhere so sunny rather than holed up in a dank dungeon somewhere. To Harry, Spinner's End fitted the idea of the man; this bright house definitely didn't.
Harry walked up the path and pulled the bell; it sounded somewhere deep in the house. As he heard footsteps approach, Harry hastily wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans and wondered if it was too late to turn tail and flee, pretend he'd never been here. But by the time he'd thought it, the door was already opening and Snape stood there. The flicker of surprise and interest in Snape's eyes was gone almost as soon as it had appeared before his face was shuttered once more and Harry was treated to the usual contemptuous glare. But the look had been there. Snape's neighbour had been right: Snape was interested in Harry, and maybe Harry could have some fun with that. String Snape along and humiliate him. Pay him back, a little bit, for Dumbledore's death.
"Potter. How did you find me?" The voice sounded cold and disinterested, which Harry knew was a lie.
"Your neighbour told me. She told me a lot of things actually."
Suddenly Snape yanked Harry by the shoulders and pulled him into the marble-tiled hallway. It was blessedly cool after the heat outside, but rather a shock to be suddenly inside the villa.
"What do you want?" Snape snapped and let go of Harry so quickly that he almost fell to the floor.
"Your help."
"My help? What could I possibly to do help the Man-Who-Lived? Got fed up with all the adoration already, have you, Potter?"
Although he'd been expecting it, Snape's attack was just too much after Harry's trying journey. "I don't want adulation!" Harry snapped. "I've never wanted it." He paused, realising he needed to be less antagonistic as he was here for Snape's help, after all. Recalling just why he was here made his mood sink even lower. "Look, sir, I need your help. You're the best Potions Master in Europe. My best bet is you."
"And what if I don't want to help you, what then?"
"Please, Snape. This is very personal. You're my only hope. I can't tell anyone else about this, I just can't." Harry's voice sounded faint and rather pathetic at the end, and he cursed himself for sounding so close to tears. Snape always brought out the worst emotions in him.
"How personal?" asked Snape, sounding interested now and quirking an elegant eyebrow in Harry's direction.
God, how come he didn't realise how hard this was going to be to talk about? "I've been reading up about it and a potions regime is my best option."
"We've established that, Potter. But what are these potions supposed to treat? Late onset acne?" Snape sneered, his lip curling.
"I don't have acne!" Surely Snape could see that? And how Harry hated the man for jeering at him at a time like this! "I'm - it's - I can't - I'm impotent, damn it!" There, he'd said it. Now Snape could laugh and throw him out and Harry would get Hermione to Obliviate him the next time he saw her.
But amazingly Snape wasn't laughing. He was looking very thoughtfully at Harry. "Come through to the living room, Potter. I'll need to take a proper history if I'm to treat you successfully."
Harry gaped at the man's retreating back, but hurriedly followed him into the spacious room leading off the hallway. Again, the floor was tiled to keep the room cool and the walls were painted off-white. Blue wooden-slatted shutters obscured the windows to keep the sunlight out, but the room was still bright and airy. Snape waved Harry into a flowery armchair while he took a leather armchair that sat beside the fireplace.
Snape waved his wand to conjure a jug of iced pumpkin juice and two tall glasses. He poured a glass for Harry and then one for himself. Harry held his in both hands, afraid that he would lose control of his limbs altogether and drop the glass to shatter on the floor. Once Snape had taken a sip of his drink, he placed it and the jug on the coffee table before turning his attention to Harry once more.
Snape's dark eyes had always been intense but to Harry they seemed even more so now, as if the intervening years since he had been a student had dimmed them in his memory. There was nothing dim in them now. They glittered like polished jet and were so focused on Harry that he wanted to squirm in his chair. He resisted the feeling. He was an adult, damn it, not a scared schoolboy anymore.
"So, Potter. How long have you had this problem?"
"Since I was seventeen." Harry's hands tightened around his glass.
"Drink something. The heat can dehydrate you without you noticing it."
"Oh. Oh, right." He took a long swallow of juice, noticing Snape's eyes following the movement of his throat.
"That's a long time. Or is it something that comes and goes?"
"No, no. It's all the time. I can't get an erection and I can't come." The longer they were speaking, the less nervous Harry was becoming. Snape was just asking the sort of questions that a mediwizard would ask. He was just being professional and wasn't that what Harry wanted?
"What about nocturnal emissions? Wet dreams?"
"No, nothing. It's like it just doesn't work at all."
"Have you tried masturbating?"
Harry flushed. "Yeah, but I stay soft. Like I said, I don't get hard and I don't come."
"What about with a partner? Can they stimulate you to hardness or climax?"
"No. No, they can't."
Snape removed his wand. "May I have permission to scan you? I'd like to see if we are dealing with a physical problem before moving onto the psychological reasons."
"I'm not making it up! It's not in my head!" Harry said indignantly. "It was a mistake to come here. I should have realised you'd only want to humiliate me." He stood up and slammed the glass down on the coffee table.
"Sit down!" Snape barked in his classroom voice so that Harry instinctively obeyed the order. Wait a minute... was that a twitch? Did his cock just twitch at hearing Snape shout at him? "If you want to be cured, Potter, you will obey my rules while under my roof."
"Why would I be under your roof?" Harry asked tensely, his hands clenched in his lap. "I've booked an apartment."
"I thought you said you'd read up on the potions regime?" Snape shook his head and smirked. "Of course. Just like you to do only half a thing. The required potions regime takes place over sixty-nine days and as the potions have to be administered at different times the patient needs to reside in the same place as his medical practitioner. Normally this would take place in St. Mungo's but I'm guessing you wouldn't want your problem to become as public as that."
"No, of course not! So I have to stay with you the whole time for my treatment?"
"Yes, you do. It is a varied course. It is not just taking a few potions and hoping for the best. You will be on a strict nutritional programme as well as the potions you need to ingest. Also, some of the potions will be topical."
"Topical?" Harry asked nervously.
"Did you pay any attention at all to my class, Potter?" Snape sighed heavily. "Topical means they need to be applied directly to the skin, to the affected area."
"What?" squawked Harry. "You have to – you have to touch me there?"
"Indeed. Would that be so terrible, Potter?"
"It's embarrassing."
"Indeed, but it has to be done."
Harry nodded his head. "Go on, scan me then. Let's get it over with."
* * * * *
For the first two weeks of his treatment, Harry spent most of his time bent double over the toilet as his body got used to the powerful potions. He'd lost count of the amount of times he'd accused Snape of trying to poison him.
"I am not poisoning you, Potter. The nausea and vomiting are side effects until you get used to taking these potions. It should ease off in a few days. Now do you see why you needed to stay with me?"
* * * * *
By the beginning of the third week Harry could manage to eat three full meals without any of them making reappearance. Snape did all the cooking, waving away Harry's offers of help. After breakfast on the second day when Harry wasn't getting sick any longer, Snape announced they were to have their first counselling session. This was what Harry had been dreading, much more than being sick from potions.
He sat down on his usual armchair while today Snape sat on the sofa. "There's no need to look so tense, Potter. This would be part of your treatment at St. Mungo's or anywhere else."
"I know. I'm just not used to talking about things like this. Could you call me Harry at least? 'Potter' sounds so impersonal."
"Very well. I didn't want to presume if you didn't wish me to address you by your first name."
"Oh. Oh, right." Harry hadn't expected such consideration. He had been assuming, wrongly, it seemed, that Snape was still treating him like he had when Harry had been a student. "It's fine. I'd like you to call me Harry."
"Very well, Harry. Can you tell me how you feel about sex in general?"
"How do you mean?"
"Well, for example, do you think it's dirty or disgusting? Or has someone else ever told you that?"
Harry flushed and closed his eyes. "Um, yeah. When I was thirteen, my Aunt Petunia caught me touching myself, you know, down there. She kept going on and on about how I was a disgusting freak and that I would go to hell for doing it. I never tried it again at their house."
"But you did at school?"
"Yeah. It was difficult to find any privacy, though."
"I remember," Snape said with a small smile of reminiscence.
Harry found it hard to imagine a young Snape trying to find somewhere private to wank, but it was certainly interesting.
"So," Snape continued, "you did manage to masturbate as a teenager?"
"Yeah, not very often though. I don't think I had a very high libido compared to some of the others. Seamus was always at it."
"Indeed, he received quite a few detentions for doing it in class."
"What? You don't mean he was touching himself in your class?" Harry flushed to the roots of his hair; he wouldn't have been able to do such a thing, he would have been too afraid to get caught.
"Not just mine; McGonagall's and Binns' to name some more. Now, back to you, Harry. Did you ever manage to come when it was just you?"
"Yes." Harry's whole body felt on fire; this was so embarrassing, but then so was what was wrong with him.
"You said you'd been impotent since you were seventeen; that seems very specific. Was there a particular incident which triggered it?"
"I- I'd been with a girl and we were going to – you know – do it that night. But I was too nervous or something and I didn't get hard at all. We tried again a few more times but nothing happened and she decided it was better if we didn't see each other anymore. With my next two girlfriends it was the same, I just wouldn't work and even when I tried by myself, I couldn't get hard or make myself come anymore."
"What about the first time you had intercourse, was there any problems or hesitation then?"
"Um, haven't you been listening, sir? I've been with the girls, but I couldn't get hard. I never had intercourse with any of them."
"You're still a virgin?"
Snape sounded surprised. Well, it was unusual for someone of Harry's age to still be one, wasn't it? Harry nodded; his face seemed to have taken on a permanent rosy hue for the moment, his cheeks felt so hot.
"Harry, has it never occurred to you that the problem might not be with you at all but with the girls?"
"Oh, no, there was nothing wrong with them. They were very understanding about it." At first, anyway.
"I don't mean that. I mean that perhaps you just don't find girls attractive... that you are, perhaps, attracted to men?"
"I'm not gay!" Harry said vehemently. Or was he?
"Well, it's certainly something to think about," said Snape as a timer in the depths of the lab beeped loudly. "Ah, your first topical potion is ready. Why don't you go and get comfortable on your bed while I fetch it?"
Harry swallowed, nodded and made his way back to his room on wobbly legs. Getting totally naked would make him too vulnerable, but if he just left his t-shirt on and his bottom half bare he'd feel and look like an idiot. In the end he took one of the small hand towels from the bathroom, took off all of his clothes and lay down on the bed with the towel draped over his groin. His heart was beating frantically against his ribs.
It seemed an age before Snape finally entered the room with a potion vial in his hand. As was usual in the heat he was wearing a white shirt and black trousers, but no robes. He eyed the towel and smirked, which made Harry feel even more humiliated, if that were possible. If only there had been someone else he could have gone to with this problem... anyone else.
The bed dipped as Snape sat down on one side of Harry. He uncorked the vial and set the bottle down on Harry's bedside cabinet before turning the edge of the towel up. Harry closed his eyes; he couldn't watch this. It was too strange, too terrible to contemplate. Snape looking at him. Looking at his cock. Harry shuddered, his body feeling both too hot and too cold at once.
When he felt the first cold touch of the potion on his skin, his eyes flew open on a gasp. Snape wasn't smirking any longer. He looked - he looked tender as he massaged the potion into the skin of Harry's prick. Harry didn't quite know what to make of it. Did Snape really fancy him? Was that why he'd mentioned Harry being gay? Did Snape want Harry to be gay?
Snape's hands moved lower, stroking the potion into Harry's balls, which were tingling with heat. Harry had never felt anything like it. Not even when he used to be able to touch himself. His cock was lengthening, hardening. "Oh God!" Harry moaned unable to keep silent any longer, his hips arching off the bed. Snape was still rubbing potion into his balls and it was driving him wild with want. He brought his hand down to curl around his cock, but Snape was quick to knock it away before Harry even got a chance to touch it. "No! You can't come yet, you'll undo all the treatment. You can get hard but you can't come."
"For how long?"
"Until the treatment is complete."
"But that's months!" Harry protested. "I'll never last!"
"You've had this problem for years. Of course you will."
"But I was never hard like this before! I need to come!" Harry whined, his eyes watering with the wanting of it.
"I'll tie you to the bed if I have to," Snape threatened and if anything, Harry's cock got even harder, jerking against his belly.
"Do it!" Harry moaned. "Do it! I won't be able to stop myself!" Harry fisted his hands in the bedclothes to stop himself from touching his cock. The need was coiling low down in his belly and he wanted nothing better than to stroke and stroke his cock until he had nothing left to give. But knew if he wanted to be cured permanently he had to obey Snape's rules.
"You'll thank me for this once the treatment is finished," Snape said as he conjured two green silk scarves and proceeded to tie Harry's wrists to the slatted headboard. Harry wondered vaguely if Snape deliberately chose beds that you could tie someone to. Once he was bound, he tugged uselessly on the restraints and knew he couldn't get free, but the thought didn't scare him as much as he thought it would. He felt secure now, knowing that he wouldn't be able to make himself come and ruin all Snape's hard work.
Snape looked down at him, his legs either side of Harry's knees, his eyes glittering with some inner fire. Harry gasped again, for without the concealment of robes, it was obvious that Snape was hard. Touching Harry, stroking Harry had made Snape hard. Harry moaned and thrashed his head on his pillows. The thought that Snape was hard was doing nothing to diminish his own arousal, the first arousal he'd felt in years and he wondered if you could die from staying hard without coming for so long.
"I haven't finished," said Snape softly as he lifted up the potion vial. "I have to use all of this on you. You're going to feel like you want to come, but you mustn't. Tell me to stop if you get too close."
Harry swallowed and nodded. He hissed in pleasure as he felt Snape's hands on his cock again, smoothing the potion all over his length. God, it was bliss! Just to lie there and feel those large hands all around him, stroking so softly, so tenderly. Harry had never thought that Severus Snape would have a tender bone in his body. He felt cherished and it was something he had never felt before in his life.
"How does it feel?" Snape asked, one finger skimming over the head of Harry's cock and catching some of the precome that was gathered there.
"Feels good," Harry mumbled. "Good, but not overwhelming."
"I'm trying not to over stimulate you."
"Will you make me come?" Harry asked.
"Potter, we've just been over this!"
"Not now. I mean when I'm cured. Will you made me come? I love how your hands feel on me," Harry admitted, blushing furiously.
"You want me to touch you when the treatment is over?"
"Yes. Please."
"Very well, if you still wish it once your treatment is finished, then I will oblige."
Snape caressed his cheek before leaving the room, making Harry wonder anew at the tender gesture. Did Snape feel more for him than contempt or was it only lust? But if it was only lust, surely he wouldn’t need to be so tender with him?
* * * * *
Snape stayed in Harry's room after that first night on a sleeping bag on the floor. He didn't want to tie Harry up while he was sleeping, but he wanted to make sure that Harry didn't try and masturbate himself to orgasm if he wasn't there. Harry found he didn't mind having Snape there at all. Snape had seen him naked and aroused; there was nothing left to hide anymore. Snape had seen him at his most vulnerable and he wasn't mocking him or taking pleasure in seeing Harry suffer.
Harry drank his potions during the day, took his exercises and kept to his diet. It was very easy to keep to his diet, for Snape did all the cooking. Harry had offered to help more than once, but Snape had waved away his offers every time and insisted Harry take it easy, like a guest. It was the early evening that was the worst to endure, for that was when Snape had to apply the topical potion again and Harry worried each and every time that he was going to get too carried away and come anyway, even if he was trying not to.
It was like they were encased in their own little world and Harry found he didn't want to leave it. His eyes flew open one night after a very erotic dream of Snape's body entwined with his own. Harry's cock was hard and throbbing between his legs but he hadn't come. Not yet. His hand reached for his pyjama bottoms but he pulled it back and gripped the headboard. "Snape!" He cried out, not sure he'd be able to stop himself from touching his cock.
Snape's head popped up from the floor, his hair mussed, but he looked perfectly alert.
"I had a dream," Harry explained, breathless. "Oh God! I want to touch! I want to come so badly! Help me!"
Snape sat on the bed, his legs either side of Harry's hips. He gripped Harry's wrists in his hands and pinned them to the pillow behind Harry's head. "You can do it, Harry. It will pass."
"You called me Harry."
"Sorry."
"No, I like it."
Snape was sitting on Harry's thighs, not near enough to his cock. But if he moved or if Harry shifted just so, he'd be able to arch up and rub his cock. He moaned at the imaging of it, his eyes fluttering shut. Merlin, he wanted it! Wanted it like nothing he'd ever wanted before.
"Please!" Harry groaned. "Oh, sir, please!"
"Not yet, Harry. Soon, I promise. Soon."
* * * * *
Harry didn't quite know how he survived the weeks of sexual frustration. It was as if all the years he'd been impotent had been saved up by his body and the arousals as Snape put the potions on him were much stronger than any natural arousals Harry remembered before. He put his all into his exercises, doing something physical sometimes helped keep his mind off his cock and the craving to come, but not all the time.
Every night he was reduced to shameless, tear-filled begging as Snape tied him to the bed and denied him again and again, his cock and balls throbbing with need. He lived for the night though, lived for those touches from Snape that both tormented him and pleasured him in equal measure.
Harry was attuned to Snape. He watched his ex-professor constantly, staring at his lips, wondering what they'd taste like. Snape was always hard whenever he touched Harry now, but always rebuffed Harry's offers of help with his erection. Harry wondered if, after he'd tended to Harry, Snape went off and masturbated somewhere. If so, it must have happened while Harry was asleep, for Snape was with him every moment of the day to make sure Harry wouldn't slip up. Snape even hovered outside the bathroom door when Harry went to the loo! Harry's body was as tightly strung as a harp string and he knew that he could probably come in a few seconds if he put his mind (and hand) to it, but he didn't want to disappoint Snape, so somehow he managed to resist the temptation. Going to the toilet was the only time Harry was alone; they showered together so that Harry wouldn't be tempted to touch himself.
At first, Harry had wanted Snape to fall for him so that he could laugh in his face at how ridiculous Snape was for thinking Harry could ever love him. Harry had never thought he could fall for Snape, but Harry knew that was just what was happening. With it only being the two of them here in Alvor, neither had to hide who they truly were and during Harry's therapy sessions they both found out about each other, not just about Harry. Harry was falling for Snape and falling hard, but he also felt guilty about what he'd been intending to do.
After a while, Harry lost track of time altogether. He became hyper-aware of his body, from the blood flowing in his veins to the air filtering through his lungs. And, there, always at the forefront, the heavy ache between his legs. It was as if he was made of nothing but desire and yearning. The craving to come was getting harder to ignore every day. Soon, he could no longer concentrate on his exercises and food held no interest at all. Finally, he only ate because Snape resorted to feeding him by hand. And then the touch of Snape's fingers on his mouth had Harry whimpering with arousal and need.
He lived for the night-time, when Snape's hand on his cock was both relief and a torment all at once. It was such a double-edged sword, for the more Snape touched him with gentle hands, the more Harry craved release.
"Please!" Harry begged again, as he'd begged every night. He tugged futilely at his restraints. "Please!"
Snape's eyes darkened with something Harry couldn't fathom and in the next instant, Snape's mouth was swooping down on his as they kissed for the first time. They kissed for seconds, for millennia, it was hard to tell. It was timeless and eternal, and yet too short a time when Snape pulled his mouth away, gasping as harshly as Harry was. Harry's heartbeat thundered in his ears like a stampede of wild horses. "Please," he whispered again.
But that night, Snape didn't promise him 'soon'... He promised him 'tomorrow'.
* * * * *
Harry could barely concentrate the next day; he was so pent up with desire. Tonight – finally – he would get to come. Tonight Snape would let him come.
Harry downed his final potion at breakfast, screwing up his face at the bitter taste. As Snape took their breakfast dishes over to the sink, Harry took a deep breath. He had to say something now or he would never have the courage to do it after Snape touched him.
"I have to tell you something," Harry said all in a rush, as if afraid if he left it too long the words would never come.
Snape turned around, the sleeves of his shirt pushed up to his elbows from washing the dishes. Harry stared hard at the fine dark hairs covering Snape's skin and he shivered in something akin to desire. Snape slouched against the cupboard, his face unreadable. "It's all right, I already know. What you'd intended, and what you feel now."
Harry stared at him incredulously. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. "How?" he gasped.
"You're so unguarded when you're delirious with pleasure. Your mind was an open book." Snape wasn’t sneering, he was just stating a fact.
"You used Legilimency on me when I was so far gone I could barely remember my own name?" asked Harry, aghast.
"Not quite, your thoughts just leaked out into my head. It was as if you wanted me to know."
Harry nodded, his earlier indignation forgotten. It was true, he realised. He had wanted Snape to know, for talking wasn't something either of them did well together. "So you know how I feel?"
"Yes, Harry. I do." Snape walked over and sank down to his knees by Harry's chair, his hand reaching out to caress Harry's cheek. Harry moaned and arched into the touch, his guts twisting and his cock hardening in his trousers. "And I love you too."
"Do you?" Harry whispered and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Not to seduce or arouse, that was for later. In the darkness of the bedroom when they could go as far as they could. Harry pulled back, gasping for breath. "Tonight, I don't want you just to touch me. I want you to fuck me."
"No, Harry," Snape replied and at those words Harry's heart felt like it shattered into a million tiny pieces. "I will never fuck you... I want to make love to you."
And Harry's heart mended itself just as quickly, and he could cry out in answer, "Yes! Oh, God, Severus, yes!"
"About bloody time you used my name!" Snape – no, Severus – chuckled then, and Harry found it was the most wonderful laugh he had ever heard. "Are you sure about this, Harry?" Snape continued seriously. "Really sure?"
"I've never been surer of anything in my life. I want it to be you, Severus. I want you to be first and my only lover."
"You've never been with a man before?"
"No, never."
"Then maybe we should leave penetration to another time. It can hurt a bit at first."
Harry shook his head. "Severus, I've been nothing but a walking erection for weeks! I need it!"
"Very well, if you are really sure?"
"I'm sure."
Severus kissed him again then, cupping his face in his hands. Harry almost melted at the tenderness of the gesture. Is this why he'd never got aroused enough with the girls? They'd all expected him to be the forceful, manly one, but Harry realised now that he wanted to be the one who was held and cosseted, the one who was penetrated, not the one doing the penetration. "Bloody hell," Harry said when they came back up for air. "I think I was born to be a bottom. Please tell me you want to top me."
Severus raked Harry over with eyes burning with lust. "Oh, yes, Harry. Very much so." He pressed a firm kiss to Harry's lips and stood up, his erection level with Harry's eyeline. Harry shuddered, as if he could almost imagine the organ piercing him already. "Until tonight, Harry." Snape walked back to the sink.
"Tonight," Harry said hoarsely as he stood up on shaky legs and helped to dry the dishes. It was a miracle he didn't drop any, he was feeling so wobbly. The darkness couldn't come soon enough.
***
It was the first time both of them were naked. Candles flickered on the bedside cabinets; Harry lay on his back watching the play of light and shadows across Severus' ivory skin. It was the first night Harry's hands hadn't been tied to the headboard, but he reached behind him and gripped the slats anyway.
Severus glanced from Harry's face to the headboard. "You liked it? Being bound?"
"Yeah," Harry admitted breathlessly, his chest rising and falling with the effort of getting some air. "It made me feel safe."
"Keep your hands there. Don't move them away and don't come until I give you permission. Can you do that?"
"Yes!" Harry hissed, revelling in being so controlled by someone so masterful. Now Harry knew why he'd got on so well with Luna, even if he never managed to penetrate her. Luna had been in control, had told Harry exactly what to do and when. This was what he had craved all along, someone to take control out of his hands and just let him be.
"If anything gets too much, just say 'red' and I'll stop."
"I don't want you to stop," Harry said fervently.
"But if you do, you will tell me," Snape insisted, and sat back on his heels, no longer touching Harry. Harry knew that if he didn't agree to Severus' terms, there would be nothing more.
"Yes, I promise," he cried.
"Good. That wasn't so difficult, was it?"
"No." Severus arched an elegant brow at the reply. "No, sir," Harry said, realising his mistake, his arousal spiking in time with his erratic heartbeat.
Eyes fixed on Severus, Harry's fingers tightened their grip on the headboard as he fought the temptation to reach out and touch Severus' body, so tantalisingly close to his own. Unlike Harry's fairly smooth chest, Severus' chest was dusted with dark hairs, with bald patches around the nipples, which were brown rather than pink like Harry's. Severus' chest hair tapered into a thick line beneath his belly button, like an arrow pointing straight down to the thick triangle of hair and the cock sticking out from it.
Harry's eyes followed the trail and he licked his lips. Severus' cock was longer and thicker than his own; it was a deep, dark red, almost purple with arousal. A pear-shaped drop of fluid dripped from the tip to land on Harry's belly. He hissed and tried to arch his hips, but Severus was sitting on his legs and Harry couldn't move as much as he wanted to.
Severus' eyes were two dark slits as he gazed at Harry with such intensity that Harry almost felt scorched by it. How could just a look from this man affect him so much?
"Keep your hands where they are," Severus warned him again, but Harry had no intention of moving without permission. This was what he wanted, what he needed.
For an indeterminate time, Severus proceeded to torture Harry with bliss: his nipples were sucked and pinched until they were standing up in little peaks. His neck was bitten and caressed by hungry lips; his legs were caressed by magic hands and a wicked tongue followed the trail the hands had left behind. By the end of the onslaught, Harry was once again reduced to a writhing, whimpering, begging wreck.
"Please, sir! Please! I need to come!" Harry pleaded, tears of frustration leaking down his face.
"I love it when you beg. You sound so desperate," Severus growled, his deep voice turned husky with desire.
Harry was desperate! It was as if they'd had months of nothing but foreplay and he needed completion before he went mad. "Please! It aches!"
Severus took pity on him then, curling his fingers around Harry's shaft, but his touch was too gentle to be anything but a tease.
"Oh, please!" Harry arched his body as much as he could, as if showing Severus how much he needed it to be harder and faster.
"I may like to hear you beg, Harry, but you know you won't get what you want until I decide it."
Harry nodded, panting. "Yes, sir. I know." Sweat dripped down his body with the effort of holding back. It had been too long since he'd been able to come but Harry knew that the fall over the edge would be worth it in the end.
Severus accioed a small glass jar, catching it in nimble fingers. Harry swallowed the ball of nervousness that had blocked his throat, knowing where those fingers might soon be going. His cock jerked against his abdomen, impossibly getting even harder, despite Harry being as hard as stone already. Severus dipped his index finger in the jar, coating it with gel, his intense gaze never once leaving Harry's face.
"Open your legs," Severus commanded and Harry obeyed as quickly as he could. "Wider. Good boy."
Severus pushed his finger inside Harry and wiggled it about, searching for something. Harry bristled about being called a 'boy' and was about to protest the term when Severus found what he'd been looking for. Harry shrieked and shuddered in ecstasy and felt as if he could levitate off the bed without the need for a spell. He worried that he'd managed to come despite trying to hold back, but a quick glance down at his erection assured him that he hadn't come quite yet. "Fuck!" Harry exclaimed as pleasure washed over him once again and he angled his hips to try and get more of that wonderful sensation. Why wasn't every wizard gay if they had this magic spot inside them?
Harry was so lost in bliss that he barely registered that Severus had managed to get three fingers inside him, but he did register the loss of the delicious fullness with a disappointed wail when Severus removed the fingers.
"Don't worry," Severus said as he pushed a pillow beneath Harry's hips. "You won't be empty for long."
Severus pulled Harry's legs apart, placing them around his waist as he knelt between them. He inched forward until his cock was pressing against Harry's loosened and slick hole. Harry gasped at the first breach of something thicker than fingers; it was the first time he'd felt any pain tonight. His body wanted to repel the invader, trying to clamp shut.
"Bear down around me," Severus instructed. "That's it, that's it... Remember to breathe, Harry."
Harry nodded and did as he was bid, feeling so amazingly full and stretched. It was odd, but not as painful as he'd been expecting, and when Severus was fully sheathed inside him, he found that spot again and Harry was seeing stars. His erection had wilted somewhat at the initial pain of entry, but a few more thrusts from Severus and it was as firm as it had ever been.
"You're so tight," Severus gasped above him. "You feel amazing around me."
"You feel amazing inside me, sir," Harry said in awe, his knuckles tightening with the effort of holding onto the headboard rather than touching Severus. He'd never felt anything like this before and not just because he'd been impotent for so long. Harry had never felt so connected to anyone and he knew he didn't want this just to be a one-time thing.
Severus gripped Harry's hips hard enough to bruise and pounded into Harry as if there was no tomorrow. And there wasn't, not really. There was only now and this and the two of them together. On every second or third thrust Severus managed to scrape along that spot again and Harry was arching his hips, meeting every slap of Severus' hips with his own.
Harry recognised the telltale signs of his impending orgasm: the tingles low down at the base of his belly and balls; the precome dripping plentiful amounts from his cock and an ache in his balls. "Sir! Please! Let me! Oh God! I can't! I can't! I'm gonna come!"
"Yesss!" Severus hissed as he speared Harry again and again. "Yes, come for Harry, come for me now!"
The order was all it took. Harry's muscles clenched around the cock inside him and he screamed in rapture as his cock pulsed and jerked, spilling copious amounts of seed onto his belly and groin. Harry closed his eyes, blinded by a hundred million suns as he surfed the waves of pleasure. He was dimly aware of Severus' orgasm as jets of warm liquid bathed his insides. His body was still shuddering with the aftershocks of his own climax by the time Severus had finished. Severus pressed his lips to Harry's in a fervent kiss, unheeding of the sticky mess that covered Harry's body.
When they came back up for air, Harry couldn't keep the silly grin off his face. "Severus, that was wonderful. Is it always that intense?"
Severus shook his head. "It's never been that intense with anyone before."
"Can I move my arms now?"
Severus nodded. Harry gasped when he removed his aching arms from the headboard; his muscles had seized up and his left arm had gone to sleep.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have kept you in the one position for so long. Why didn't you say something?"
"I was enjoying it. You didn't hurt me, Severus. Well, apart from the obvious." Harry winced as a sharp pain shot through his arse.
"Do you need a pain potion?"
"No," said Harry, reaching up to caress Severus' face now that he could. "All I need is you."
"What are you saying, Harry?"
"I think you know, Severus. I want to be with you and I know you want to be with me."
"Don't joke about that!"
"It's not a joke. It may have started out that way but you know how I feel now, don't you? You saw it in my mind. Look again. You'll see I'm telling the truth. I love you, Severus, and I want us to be together."
"I don't need to look. Your emotions were always written on your face. You want us to be together? But what about your friends? I am twenty years older than you. You were my student; I was a Death Eater. Do you think people are going to approve of this?"
"I don't need other people's approval to be with the man I love," said Harry firmly. "We'll face them all. Whatever life throws at us, we'll handle it. Together." Harry kissed him as if to affirm his vow.