Happy Daft Day allika! Recipient:allika Title: Common Knowledge Author:norbert02 Rating: NC-17 Warnings: Light Bondage, Sex Prompt/Summary: Things (kinks) you would like included in your gift:must be bottom!Harry (of course) and NC-17. First time. Bondage, blind folds. Things (squicks) you would not like to see in your gift: scat, watersports, bestiality, necroplilia, non-con Optional- Include a scenario (plot device) you would like: I adore Harry a bit sad and desperate, and very submissive and innocent, and Snape confident. (Please none of that 'my honor forbids me' shite) Author's Note: This is for the Daft Day smut swap and my FIRST EVER Snape on Top and Bottom Harry story, I hope you like it allika. Beta'ed by the lovely and talented lesyeuxverts00.
Harry was already drunk when Hermione asked the question that she had been waiting to ask for almost a decade.
"Have you ever thought, I mean… have you ever considered that you might... er… not like girls that way?"
Harry swayed a little in his seat and blinked slowly, his green, eyes wide and unfocused behind his thick glasses.
"What d'ya mean Hermione? Ginny, she thinks I'm shite." Harry said, little drops of spittle hitting the table and Hermione's bottle of beer.
Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled up a corner of her robe, wiping her beer clean.
"I know, Harry, you've already told me that a few dozen times tonight."
"Right." Harry said, pounding his fist on the table. "She wans a fuck Hermy and I don… don't want to. She's right to hate me."
"I am shite and… and interpant…impertant…Can't get it up."
Hermione's brown eyes softened. "Impotent, Harry is that what you mean?"
Harry nodded, his hands tightening around his glass of scotch.
"You find it difficult to get aroused then?" Hermione asked matter of factly.
Harry looked quickly around the empty bar before leaning in and whispering sloppily in Hermione's ear, his nose bumping her head and his hot breath wafting over her skin.
Merlin, Hermione thought, his breath smelled almost stronger than undiluted scotch. Then again, perhaps it was a blessing that her friend was this intoxicated. Lord only knew Harry never spoke about his problems when sober.
"Iss only when we're going to…you know… fuck. I'll be hard and then it'll just go away when… when," Harry trailed off.
"When what, Harry?"
"When she's naked." Harry spoke so quietly Hermione had to strain to here him even though he was talking directly into her ear.
"And what about with Cho, Harry? It happened with Cho too, didn't it?"
Hermione had heard the rumors as well as everyone else. In Harry's fifth year Cho had dumped him. She had told the entire Ravenclaw Quidditch team in a fit of pique that it was because Harry couldn't even find the 'snitch' let alone catch it.
Rumors had persisted ever since. Harry would bounce from one girlfriend to another, each ending with whispered rumor and innuendo that when it came to women the Savior of the wizarding world just didn't have a clue.
A few years ago, Harry and Ginny had married though the cracks in their marriage were obvious to anyone. Even Ron had pulled his little sister aside and begged her to reconsider. But Ginny Weasley had always been infatuated with The Boy Who Lived and she wasn't giving up her chance to marry him now that she had a chance.
Hermione had known of Ginny's affairs almost from the beginning and when she confronted Harry with the evidence he had slumped into his chair, "I can't give her what she needs, Hermione, I understand her need to go elsewhere."
Harry's marriage had been a sham from day one and Hermione, for one, was glad it was ending. Ginny had given Harry an ultimatum. Make a baby with her or she would find someone who could. Harry had tried for six months.
The deadline was over and now here they were, at 2 AM on a Tuesday morning at the Hogs Head, Harry drunk as a skunk and Hermione trying to enlighten her friend to a fact she had known since sixth year.
"It happened with Cho and Parvati and even Pansy didn't it, Harry?" Hermione asked.
Harry nodded and sank back into his chair, swigging down the last of his drink and motioning for yet another.
The bartender, Aberforth, was the only other person in the bar at this time and filled Harry's glass, muttering good naturedly about time wasters and giving Hermione a heart wrenchingly familiar twinkle- eyed wink before returning to his usual station behind the scarred wooden bar.
"You like boys, Harry," she said, knowing her blunt words might be the only thing to penetrate Harry's alcohol fogged brain.
"What?" Harry asked with feigned surprise.
Hermione sighed and leaned closer to her friend, "You. Like. Boys. Harry. You're gay. You want to fuck men, which is why you find it so difficult to fuck women. You have been trying desperately to prove that you're straight, probably since the first time you wanked to a man's image. You've jumped from girlfriend to girlfriend, praying each time that this one would finally be the one to straighten you out... so to speak." Hermione's voice rose and the frustration she had felt all these years with Harry's inability to be the person he was overflowed and poured out. "You're gay, Harry. Christ, just admit it and move on and you'll stop making everyone else's life so bloody miserable. And guess what - you might stop making yourself miserable too."
Harry stared at his best friend, drunk and gobsmacked.
"You… knew?" he asked.
"Yes, Harry, for some time now." Hermione answered, laying a hand over Harry's shaking one and stroking his wrist.
Harry's face flushed and he gripped Hermione's hand, interlacing their fingers. "Everyone else?" he asked, staring at the table.
"I think so," Hermione replied.
"Oh."
"It's not as bad as you think, Harry. Think of it, this can be a good thing, you'll separate from Ginny, you can be who you truly are, and she'll be remarried within a fortnight…" Hermione said, smiling when Harry's mouth quirked in humour.
"Right," Harry said, exhaling. "Well. I'm a poof and everyone's known it but me."
Hermione leaned over and hugged her friend, rubbing his back in small circles. "So you've never…?" she asked.
Harry's eyes rounded. "Fuck no, Hermione, I can barely even say it let alone do anything 'bout it. Why, do you have anyone in mind?" he asked in a weak attempt at humor, as a vision of black eyes and lank hair flashed through his brain.
"Not off the top of my head," Hermione said, choosing not to mention all of the times that she had caught Harry staring at a particularly bad-tempered Potions Master. Instead, she leaned forwards and placed a chaste kiss on Harry's cheek.
They spoke for a while more but when Harry began swaying in his seat, Hermione knew it was time to call it an evening.
The two waved goodnight to Aberforth and he hurried over, ushering them out the door and calling for the Knight Bus.
In moments, the garish purple transport shuddered to a halt before them and Hermione guided Harry to one of five-knuts-extra beds.
They had learned their lesson years back about trying to Apparate drunk. Ron had left his right arm at a Chudley Cannons game and had been unable to find it until after the stadium had cleared.
Hermione, who had had only a few lagers herself, was just about to Apparate home when she opened her mouth. It was something she probably should have kept to herself, it was absurd, surely, and absolutely bizarre but it was late and she was tired and happy that Harry had finally 'come out' and the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
"There's always Snape."
Harry jerked to attention, coming out of the alcohol induced lethargy he had fallen into the second he had sunk onto the plump padded cot at the back of the bus.
"What did you say?" he asked. Pitch black eyes flashing, thin lips smirking. Shut it brain, shut it, Harry hissed to himself.
"Snape." Hermione said, her cheeks flushing. "He's gay, too."
Unwilling to wait for the vehement denial that was sure to come, Hermione closed her eyes and with a pop Disapparated.
Two days later, Harry raised his fist, held his breath and knocked.
The door opened and with a raised eyebrow and a surprising step backwards, Snape invited Harry in.
"Mr. Potter, to what do I owe this dubious pleasure?" he asked.
Harry stepped inside, his eyes growing wide as he got his first glimpse of Snape's rooms. This was a forbidden place. Harry didn't even know of a Slytherin student who had ever been welcomed inside these rooms. They were, oddly enough, a bit of a disappointment. They looked just like McGonagall's rooms. The same brown functional chairs, a large fireplace and generous writing desk pressed up against the far wall. The only difference that Harry could see was that instead of a Gryffindor tapestry above the well worn sofa there was a charmed window. It looked on to the back of the school, a calming scene, just a large expanse of grass and in the far distance, the greenhouses.
"Seen enough, Mr. Potter, or did you come here merely to inspect my décor?"
Harry smiled a little, though his heart was doing it's best to pound through his ribcage and land at the feet of the man before him. "I guess I expected to see more jars filled with strange creatures."
"Of course you did. So sorry to disappoint. Why are you here, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, his aggravation evident in the clipped tone of his words.
"Yes, of course, I'm sorry." Harry said, walking over to the drinks cabinet he lifted a clear bottle filled with amber liquid and held it aloft.
Snape sighed and nodded his assent. "Need a little Scots courage, Mr. Potter?" he asked with a smirk.
Harry downed the finger full of whiskey and poured more into his glass before preparing one for Snape.
"Uh huh," he answered, handing the other man a glass and settling onto the worn sofa.
Snape stayed quiet, observing his visitor and taking a small sip of whiskey.
"So, you're gay." Harry blurted out, his question came out louder than he had intended and his words echoed in the large stone rooms.
Snape choked on his mouthful and spit the remainder out of his mouth onto the floor, his black robes repelling any stray droplets.
"What the f-"
"Sorry, sorry. Oh Christ, I didn't mean to just say that." Harry moaned, dropping to his knees and Evanesco-ing the mess he had caused Snape to make.
Harry didn't even know why he was there. He had barely come out to himself and now he was in Snape's rooms. It was unlike him… well perhaps not utterly unlike him, as he was, after all, known for occasional rash actions. When Hermione had said Snape's name, it brought back all of the confusion from his school days. It brought back the sleepless nights, the dreams of pale, pale skin and long elegant potion-stained fingers, dreams that he had done his best to forget, done his best to sublimate by making love to one girl after the other in his bid to convince himself he wasn't any more aberrant than he already was.
Snape coughed a few times, clearing his throat, and looked at the man on his knees before him.
"I should think not," Snape said, breaking into Harry's reverie. "So the savior has finally come to terms with his sexuality hmm?"
Harry's head whipped up at Snape's words and he felt his face heat as his blood rushed to his head.
"Oh, don't be so surprised, Mr. Potter. And do get up off the floor. Wizards don't have to kneel on top of a mess to clean it, I would have thought you had realized that by now." Snape said, smiling when he saw Harry's face turn even redder.
"No, no, of course not," Harry said, hauling himself off the floor and taking his seat once again.
"To answer your question Mr. Potter, yes. I am gay and you are too," Snape said, warming up to the subject at hand. "What are you here for, Potter, did you suddenly realize that my cock is the one you've been dreaming of while you fuck your way through half the female population of the wizarding world?"
Harry's mouth hung open, wide and speechless, though his loins heated with ferocious speed. "What? No ... I … I'm married." he finished lamely. It was as though Harry's every thought was open to that keen mind.
Snape smiled slowly and took another long languorous sip of his drink.
"Right."
"Yes, right," Harry exclaimed, "I just… no. No, you're right, well not about the dreaming of your…part just about the me being… being gay part."
"Of course I am. Mr. Potter, are we going to get to the point today or shall I go to the main hall, have my dinner, mark a few papers and perhaps take a nap while you figure out what exactly you came here for?"
Snape said, rising from his chair and stalking towards Harry.
"Well, I don't ... er ... actually know anyone who's gay and so I thought…" Harry lied, unnerved by the man's silent, sinuous gait and long, lean legs peaking out through the voluminous robe he constantly wore.
It was Severus's turn to gape. "You can't be serious, Mr. Potter. Do you mean to tell me that I am the only other gay wizard of your acquaintance?"
Harry nodded.
Snape let out a started chortle, hiccupped once and then laughed until his sides hurt and tears rolled down his cheeks. "Thank you, Mr. Potter," Snape got out when he could speak again. "I have never in my life met anyone as unfailingly naive as you. No…no other gay wizards." Snape broke into laugher again, though this time he snickered, a wide foreign looking grin on his dour features.
Harry was as much in shock by seeing Snape laugh as he was from what the man had said. "Who, then?" Harry asked.
Snape quieted and, still smirking, finished his glass of whiskey. "What will you give me in exchange, Mr. Potter?"
"Exchange, sir?" Harry asked.
Snape arched a wicked brow, "Yes, Potter, exchange. My, your grasp of the English language is even worse than I had anticipated."
Harry sighed, "Yes sir, no sir, I sure am an idiot, sir. Could you please just tell me what you want?"
Snape looked at Harry appraisingly. The boy had filled out since his days as a scrawny school boy. Harry's arms and legs, though short, were heavily muscled, his stomach obviously flat and hard even through the robes he wore. The boy's body had turned into that of a strong, stocky man. His jaw was heavier and shadowed in dark shadow. His eyes, while still piercing green, seemed to be even more myopic and were slightly magnified by his glasses. The boy's face was average. Snape came to the conclusion with a small wave of satisfaction, that the son wasn't as handsome as the father made him much more likable in Snape's opinion, more desirable too for that matter.
"You, Mr. Potter. I want to fuck you."
If a feather had landed on Harry's shoulder at that moment it would have knocked him to the ground. His prick swelled and his stomach filled with a thousand fluttering butterflies. His darkest most hidden desire had just been handed to him and he had no idea what to so or say.
"You ... Want to fuck…. me?" he asked, almost crumpling to his knees at the wave of desire that ran through his body. God, he must really be sick if the greasy prick sitting across from him and mocking his every word could somehow arouse his body.
But what would Snape be like in bed, Harry wondered for perhaps the millionth time. All long lean muscles and acid words. Would his tongue be as wicked as it was in the classroom, would he, Harry gulped, discipline him, bend him over and spank his naked arse.
"OK," Harry said, though he almost wished he could bite his tongue off when the word came out of his mouth before his brain could pull them back in.
Snape hadn't been expecting that answer but he showed nothing of his shock. One did not survive Voldemort and his merry band of sadists by not being able to cover sudden emotion.
"Very well," he said. "Go to my room and undress, I will join you in a moment."
Harry was shaking as he drew off his robe and began unbuttoning his tan shirt. Why was he here? What on earth did he think he was doing? Fantasizing secretly about the man and fucking him were two different things and Harry didn't know what he had gotten himself into… or if he would survive it at all. He was about to have sex- with a man, something he had been both dreading and anticipating for over a decade. And whom did he choose to introduce him to the varied pleasure of male sex? None other than Severus Snape, bane of childhood, traitor, spy, bastard, and murderer.
Harry reached down and slowly unbuckled his belt, the heavy buckle hitting into the metal button fly and making a surprisingly loud clang.
Harry's head jerked up at the sound of it and he stared at the door as if the weight of his gaze would give him some kind of answer that would make what he was doing sane.
The door did open then and Severus stepped through, his left hand unbuttoning his shirt collar, a smirk on his thin lips. His eyes seemed even blacker than usual. They glittered and Harry felt as though he were a small animal and Severus his hunter.
"I would have thought you'd have run off by now," Severus said, seeming to read Harry's mind, pointing out his terror and uncertainty.
"No," Harry said instead of all the other answers that immediately came to his mind. Harry pushed his jeans past his hips, taking his underpants with them and kicking off his boots with the lot. Standing there naked, his eyes met Snape's and he covered his genitals with his hands.
"Your modesty is inappropriate here, Potter. Perhaps you are loosing your nerve after all."
Harry gulped past the lump in his throat.
"Well you're not making me feel-"
"Get over here," Snape said, cutting off Harry's words.
Harry stepped closer, one step and then another. He moved as though he were in a dream, until he stood almost chest to chest with Snape.
"Take off my pants, Potter," Snape said grasping Harry's hand and placing it over his crotch.
Harry could feel that the other man was already hard and at the first touch of another man's prick, even through the heavy wool of trousers, Harry's body thrummed with anticipation.
His fingers didn't shake as he slid down the front of Snape's trousers and fingered the top button.
"Do… do you want me?" Harry asked, slipping the button through the eye. "Or could I be anyone?"
Snape's dark eyes narrowed and he reached out and pulled Harry to him, his long fingers twining in Harry's messy black hair.
He brought their mouths together so that when Snape spoke his breath ghosted over Harry's lips.
"You're an attractive man, Harry. You gave me the opening and you think I should let you go? Just tell you who else is out there for you to kiss and touch and fuck."
Snape chuckled, "You should know me better than that by now, Harry."
Snape ran his hands down Harry's sides, letting his nails scratch lightly over the smooth skin.
"I'm going to fuck you, Harry, going to kiss you and lick you. I'm going to stretch you with my fingers and then I'm going to thrust my cock inside of you." Snape leaned down and licked Harry's neck, his hands stroking Harry's sides. He slipped those long stained fingers between Harry's legs, cupping his balls and drawing fingers up and down between the crease of his ass, allowing his fine knuckled thumb to brush over the tight virgin bud of Harry's hole.
Harry shivered and his prick filled so quickly it was almost painful. A small moan escaped his lips and his head dropped backwards, exposing more of his neck to the clever mouth and tongue of Severus Snape.
"That's good, isn't it?" Snape whispered, his thumb and forefinger wrapped around the base of Harry's penis, and squeezed, his other hand leaving off the torment of Harry's ass and moving to scratch through the dark hair covering Harry's belly.
Snape began pushing Harry back, moving him from the doorway until his knees bumped into the bed and, with a small push, Snape had Harry naked and sprawled out on his bed.
"I think perhaps it's better if I undress myself, Mr. Potter. You seem to be a little distracted."
Snape smiled predatorily and removed his clothing. He worked slowly, unveiling porcelain white skin and long lean muscles.
Harry's breath caught at what was being revealed. Who would have thought that the bat of the dungeons had a body like this?
Almost hairless, his chest was smooth. Tiny, flat, pink disks for nipples and lightly defined abdominal muscles that made Harry want to drag his tongue down the barely-there slope they created.
When Snape removed his pants, Harry's body jerked. The man's cock was the most ugly and gorgeous thing Harry had ever seen in his life. Thick and purpled, his shaft was large with thick veins that seemed to pulse to the rhythm of Harry’s own pounding heart. At the head of his cock, a perfect fleshy cap, with just the smallest drop of pre come pooling in the tip.
Snape reached down, oh so slowly and fisted himself, holding Harry's eyes while he pumped his shaft. Harry's legs spread of their own volition and Snape licked his thin lips, bringing a thumb wet with his own essence up to his mouth and sucking it onto his tongue.
"I want you to suck me, Harry. Get up on your knees."
Harry obeyed as though he were a puppet on a string. He leaned forward and with no hesitation he flicked his tongue over Snape's leaking slit.
"That's right, Harry, now take my cock into your sweet little mouth and close your lips around it."
Harry moaned at the first taste of Snape’s prick and let his free hand wander down his own furred belly and encircle his hard, drooling length.
Snape pushed gently, in and out of Harry's mouth, "My, my, my Mr. Potter. If I didn't know any better I would imagine that you've done this before. No? Then I guess you were just born to it. Is that it, Potter?" Snape breathed, the mouth around him warm and perfect. "You're a born cock sucker, Mr. Potter."
Snape's dirty words filled Harry's ears and made him even harder. He was seconds away from coming over his fist and Snape's cream linen sheets.
God, this is what had been missing his whole life, this hard flesh between his lips, the heavy musky smell and sweet bitter taste. No wonder he had been unable to sexually satisfy any of his previous partners, Harry thought in a daze as he worked Snape's cock deeper into his mouth.
Snape was right, he was born for this.
Harry groaned, his hand flying over his prick.
Snape pulled out of Harry's mouth, his pale face flushed and his chest heaving.
"Not quite yet." Snape said, "Stop it, Harry," when Harry leaned forward and tried to recapture Snape's cock.
Snape pushed Harry onto his back and straddled his lean hips. With a muttered spell Harry's arms were strapped to the four poster bed and a long strip of green silk wrapped around his head, blinding him.
"What… what are you doing?" Harry gasped, pumping his hips into the air, trying to seek the friction his needy cock desired.
Snape grabbed Harry's balls and pulled sharply, smiling at Harry's hissed outrage.
"Now, now, Mr. Potter, I don't want this to end… prematurely."
Harry groaned and pulled at his bonds.
Snape called a jar of lubricant from his bedside table and dipped two of his long fingers into it.
"I'm going to stretch you now, Potter," Snape said, rubbing his coated fingers over Harry's hole.
"Call me Harry."
"Very well… Harry," Snape said, pushing just the tip of one finger into Harry's body.
Harry gasped and pushed down, trying to work Snape's finger further into his body.
"You've done this before, Harry, haven't you? Pushed your own fingers into your body haven't you?"
"Yes… yes, yes." Harry panted, his head thrashing against the sheets as Snape's long finger entered his body and brushed against the sensitive bundle of nerves that lit him on fire, the ends of the green, silken binding slapping against his chest.
Snape added another finger and pushed them in, in one smooth motion. He pushed until he was up to his knuckles inside of Harry's body.
"Do you want me to fuck you now, Harry?" Snape asked, though his voice had lost its smoothness and his breathing came almost as hard as Harry's.
"Yes," Harry cried, spreading his legs as wide as he could, displaying his sac and hole with unashamed need.
Snape dipped his fingers into the lubricant once again and coated his prick. He lined up the blunt head at Harry's hole and took a deep breath, trying to calm his desire to shove himself immediately into the young man's body.
He moved, breaching the tight muscles of Harry's ass millimeter by millimeter, soaking up the tight heat that encircled him.
Harry shoved back again, his muscled arms bulging as he pulled against the restraints that pinned his arm to the bed head.
"Just fuck me NOW Snape, do it doitdoit."
Ginny or Cho or Pansy or the dozen other women he slept with couldn't be further from his mind. He wasn't thinking that he was with his former teacher or a spy or murderer or traitor or hero. He was with Snape and the man was playing his body as though he had created it, igniting every nerve, setting off every pleasure center in his brain.
Snape pushed hard and seated himself fully into Harry's body, his heavy balls resting against the muscled globes of Harry's ass.
Snape stretched over Harry's body and kissed him deeply. It was their first real kiss and Harry's eyes rolled back into his head behind the blindfold and every molecule in his body was focused on the myriad of pleasures that thrummed through his body.
"Sevvvv." Harry groaned, ripping his mouth away from the sinuous tongue. "Free me."
Snape complied with a whispered word and Harry's bonds were released. His strong arms wrapped around Snape's shoulders and pressed them even closer together. His prick throbbed, untouched but for the gentle friction of Snape's belly as his body moved over and in Harry's body.
He shook his head, unwilling to take his hands off Snape's smooth skin in order to remove his blindfold.
Snape's hips snapped in and out, pushing his cock deep into Harry's body, rubbing against his prostate with every thrust.
Harry's nails dug into Snape's skin and he almost cried out in agonizing pleasure as come fountained from his prick and splashed over Snape's smooth belly and chest.
Snape pushed in one final time, taking Harry's mouth in a fierce kiss as he shuddered through his own release.
Harry lay against the bed, panting and pushing weakly at the blindfold.
Snape pulled the scarf off and gently settled Harry's glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.
Harry grabbed Snape's long-fingered hand and twined his own around it.
"That was unbelievable," he said, staring into unreadable black eyes.
"Charlie Weasley, Remus Lupin, Draco Malfoy, Zacharias Smith and Neville Longbottom," Snape said without preamble.
"What?" Harry asked, lifting his head to taste the smooth skin of Snape's shoulder.
"Other gay men of your acquaintance, Mr. Potter."
"You're calling me, Mr. Potter again?" Harry asked.
"You've fulfilled your end of the bargain," Snape said moving off of Harry, his limp prick sliding out.
Harry grabbed Snape before he could get away and wrapped him in a strong embrace.
"You're not going anywhere," Harry said, kissing Snape's thin lips and running his hands up and down the lean back.
"Mr. Potter," Snape said, his voice hard.
"Severus, stop," Harry said. "Thanks for the list but I don't need it."
"And why is that?"
"Well, I've found you. I've just had the best sex of my life and I have no intention of letting you get away from me that easily."
Snape should have fought. He should have railed and pulled away. He should have used his indomitable will to force Harry out but he did none of that.
"That's fine then," he said.
Harry flipped Snape onto his back and covered him with his own heavier body.
"It is, isn't it?" he asked.
He had no idea how he found himself here in this moment, naked and satiated in Severus Snape's bed, but he had never felt more like himself in his entire life.
Here, he wasn't the Savior or the Boy Who Lived or any of the other idiotic labels he had always been crushed beneath. He was just Harry Potter, and Harry had just felt more pleasure in the past half hour than he had his entire life combined.
Yes, he thought, running his hands through Snape's silky black hair, it was just fine.
Harry snickered, just a little, snuggling into the drowsing body next to him. Hermione will be so pleased.