Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Young At Heart	By : KohakuShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 15428 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and am not making any money off of it. If I did , Snape would have gotten laid - often and repeatedly.

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-Epilogue
- 15
- 16
- 17
Chapter 16

Seventy-two death threats, four escape
attempts, and nine days later, the Healers finally caved in and let
Snape sign himself out. He didn't wait to tell Harry he was doing
it. Just because he loved the Gryffindor idiot, that didn't mean he
didn't still enjoy his solitude and the freedom to get up and go
where he wanted, when he wanted. He also rather enjoyed imagining
the expression on Harry's face when he came to visit (again) and
found Severus no longer where he left him. He'd get an earful for
it, surely, but it would be worth it for the red-faced, indignant
expression Harry often wore when Snape teased him. It was a recent
infatuation brought on by having nothing else worth doing while
trapped in the hospital for 'observation'. He rather loathed
'observation' – all it meant was 'there's nothing wrong with
you, but at the moment we find your state of health intensely curious
and would like to poke at you with our wands a while longer.' He
also rather loathed healers in general. He'd known after the first
day that he was perfectly fine. In fact, he felt better than he had
any right to feel. Once the exhaustion of his rapid-aging had worn
off, he found he felt...well, he still felt sixteen, at least on the
inside. He felt as though he could climb mountains without losing
his breath, fly rings around the grounds of Hogwarts, or stay up all
night without feeling old the next morning. That last one was going
to be rather convenient very soon, he thought, as he very clearly
recalled Harry's insatiable libido. 'I must remember to be
sensible. Feeling sixteen and being sixteen are very
different. It is very unlikely I will be able to keep up with him at
my age.'

He knew the reason for his exceptional health –
it only took a bit of common sense to understand that when his body
re-aged so rapidly, it did so from it's sixteen year old state.
There were many illnesses and accidents he'd survived that no longer
left their mark on his body. His organs had simply re-sized and
matured toward adulthood. His natural chemistry had matured to
reflect what ought to be common in a grown man. The lack of abuse
his internal organs had taken were what made him feel so young, but
that didn't mean he still had the hormonal capacity he'd had as a
boy, no matter how much nervous energy and anticipation rushed up his
spine when he thought of being intimate with Harry. He regularly
chastised himself for both the nervousness and the anticipation,
reminding himself that he was not a child and would do well to remain
calm. Harry might still change his mind now that he'd had some time
to think about what it would mean to be with a man twice his age.
'Who am I kidding? Harry never puts much thought into anything,'
Severus reminded himself as he stopped and stared at the cheerfully
rotating red and white spirals, and the garish blue sign hanging
between them: Clip's Wand-Stylists. What We Do to your Doo is
Magic!

'I must be insane,'
he thought. He'd never had his hair cut professionally. There never
seemed any point. He could easily spell off the frayed ends himself
when it got too long. He'd just gotten it into his head that Harry
might be pleased if it was a bit tidier than what he could manage
himself. Even a wizard can't aim properly at the back of his own
head, no matter how advanced, after all. Well, he was already here.
He would look rather foolish walking up only to leave again, and made
his way inside.

“Oh my...” the girl behind the desk
said before managing to collect herself. “I, oh, yes, Welcome
to Clip's!” she declared with the appropriate amount of false
cheer. “What can we do for you? Wash and cut?” She
accidentally emphasized 'wash' and he glared at her. He washed his
hair regularly, thank you very much! More than most people, in fact.

“...I just want it...tidied a bit. Made
somewhat more even on the ends.”

“Riiight,
okay!” There was the false cheer again. “One sec while I
see who's available.” She got up and disappeared behind a
curtain. She was a bit louder than she thought, or Snape's hearing
was a bit too good after years of spying on people. “Is Boris
back from lunch? We've got...I mean...it's horrible.
It's going to take a small miracle to make something out of it.”

Ten minutes later Severus found himself
glowering at his reflection as a rather flamboyant man in a pink
flamingo t-shirt that was entirely too tight clucked his tongue at
him while he brushed out the dark strands. “Potions?” the
man asked.

“What?”

“Potions? You're in the potions field, I
imagine?”

“I don't see how it's any of your
business.”

“Oh
trust me, it shows.
I've got an alchemist who comes in every other Thursday for a Deep
Clean. Gets rid of all the residue. I'm sure you've noticed when
you brew, certain chemicals stick to your skin, right? Well, the same
goes for your hair, doesn't it?” He pulled Snape to his feet
with surprising strength. “Come on then, to the back with you.
I'm feeling generous, so the D.C.'s on the house this time, 'kay?”

Snape found he
didn't get the opportunity to protest. He was shoved behind a
curtain, his outer robe was flicked off to hang in the corner, and he
was pressed down into a sink. He couldn't see what the man was
putting on his head, but it felt surprisingly cool and soothing as it
was massaged in. “If you're a brewer, Deep Cleans are dire
if you want your hair to look nice,” Boris babbled at him.
“Maybe not every other Thursday.” He could hear the wink
in the man's voice. “But every two or three months. I'll set
you up with a sample of our de-toxifying shampoo, too. It's a bit
pricey, but I'm sure you'll love the results...”

An hour later,
Severus found his hair even around the edges for the first time in
his life, tumbling softly just past his shoulders, and shining in all
the right ways for
once. 'I see. There certainly is a difference when you
have a professional do it, isn't there? Even if he talks far too
much.'

“Now, de-toxifying shampoo. Here. On me,
one time only!” he declared, pushing a bottle into Severus'
hand. “It's my good deed for the day,” he declared when
Severus' brow quirked at the price. “Trust me, you're going to
love it. And lay off the conditioner! You really don't need it, and
it just makes you look greasy.”

Severus kept his expression neutral, but left a
generous tip in spite of the wrinkle-nosed comment about looking
greasy. Even he couldn't deny the results were aesthetically
pleasing. As he left he heard the girl who had thought him a
hopeless case say, “Boris, you're a god.”

“No baby,” Boris returned, “I'm
a diva.”

**

“What do you mean not here?”
Harry insisted for the third time.

The girl behind the front desk sighed. “Just
as I've said, Mr. Potter, repeatedly. Mr. Snape checked
himself out this morning. He is no longer at St. Mungo's.”

Harry's brow twitched and his fists clenched
and unclenched several times. “Agh! That arse!”
he declared before storming out of the hospital. 'When I find
him, I'm going to beat him senseless!' Harry thought irritably.
The jerk. 'Oh, by the way Harry, don't waste your time going all
the way to the hospital tomorrow. I won't be there,' is
apparently too much work for Severus Snape.

Harry spent half the day trekking around London
trying to find him. When he failed, he had no choice but to
reluctantly return home to Grimauld Place.

Something was off. Harry could sense it. He
just couldn't quite figure out what it was. He carefully weaved his
way through the living room, the narrow hall. In the kitchen he
spotted it – a single teacup drying in the dish drain. It was
the white cup with the scalloped silver trim that Severus had always
favored. 'You've got to be kidding me!' Harry thought
and stormed up the stairs. He checked his room, the library, and
finally pushed open the door to the room that had once belonged to
Regulus black.

Severus Snape was sitting quietly in the chair,
bare feet propped up on the desk. His outer robes were hanging on the
back of the closet door, and his white tunic was open at the throat,
untucked, with the sleeves cuffed up to the elbow. He had a
paperback open in front of him and looked up with mild disinterest,
“Oh, you're back. Busy day, I take it?”

He quirked his brow ever so slightly and that
was Harry's undoing. The casual aura, the lack of layers,
and...Merlin! What did he do with his hair? It's gorgeous!
…went straight to Harry's groin. The prat had planned this,
right down to the splay of his long fingers over the spine of the
book and that infuriating quirk of his brow. It all just screamed
'fuck me, Harry. Senseless, if it's not too much trouble.'

Harry was across the room in a flash, pulling
Severus forward by fisting the tunic he was wearing, and crushed
their lips together fiercely, thrusting his tongue greedily against
the older man's. When he pulled back, out of breath, Severus was
smirking at him with those deep black eyes of his. “You're a
prat,” Harry declared.

“Miss the meek, innocent teenager, then?”
Severus answered.

“Fuck you,” Harry answered and
lowered his knee between his former professor's legs to gently press
into what he found was a groin already hard with anticipation. He
crushed their lips together again. Miss the younger, more innocent
Snape? No, not really. Oh, he adored the sweet, clumsy sixteen year
old, there was no doubting that, but the grown man who he could fight
with, who would tease him and make him run around London for hours
while waiting patiently at home just to get him all riled up...that's
the person he risked Azkaban for, and he was finally, finally
back.

“I believe that's what we are getting to,
yes,” Snape answered in the dry tone that he'd noticed in the
past days so intoxicated Harry.

Harry crushed their lips together yet again,
grabbing at the hem of Snape's shirt and starting to pull it away,
fighting the man's arms out of it, but not willing to break the kiss
until he absolutely had to. When he did, the shirt went flying to
land awkwardly on the top edge of one of the bookshelves. He dragged
his fingers eagerly over the bare skin of Snape's chest, shoulders
already rising and falling with his heavy breathing and they'd done
nothing but kiss yet. “The one I missed, was you.”
He didn't know how to explain. He adored the sweet young boy. He'd
have been happy to keep him, wouldn't have felt like he was in some
way inferior to the older version, but he also knew that the sweet,
young boy would eventually grow into snarky, sensual Severus Snape,
who he'd adored far longer than he'd allowed himself to admit. He
didn't think it had anything to do with trading one for the other or
wanting both, but what he loved most was who Snape was, issues and
attitude problem included. If he was honest though, he felt far more
comfortable with the thought of shagging Severus now that he was
grown – at least one of them would know what he was doing, and
he had a feeling Severus wouldn't have any qualms about telling Harry
just what to do. He grabbed the man's nipples and twisted them the
way he knew he'd always liked as a teenager.

“Harder,” Severus rasped into the
kiss, grinding his hips up against his love's leg. The timidness was
gone from the man now, and Harry loved the gravel-voiced desire that
had replaced it. He did as he was told, twisting the buds even
further until he was sure it must hurt, but Snape only groaned and
bucked against his leg, locking his gaze with those intense black
eyes that told the younger man just how much he loved it.

Severus had become accustomed to sex that was a
little brutal. His previous partners hadn't had particularly gentle
natures, and though he didn't care for pain for pain's sake, over
time he had come to a preference for a bit of rough treatment.
He wanted Harry to know he didn't need to worry about hurting him as
much as he had before, that he didn't need to be overly careful. He
leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of the young man's
mouth. “A little pain is nothing,” he purred, “if
it intensifies the pleasure.” But that was the only
circumstance under which he found it desirable. After dancing
between Voldemort and Dumbledore for so many years, ever just on the
edge of being caught, his sense of pain had dulled somewhat anyway.

Harry understood and, after letting Severus
remove his t-shirt, leaned down to drag his tongue over one of the
abused buds.

“Yess...” Severus hissed. He was
already so hard! Far more excited than a man his age ought to become
so easily, he thought, but there wasn't really much point in thinking
too hard when Harry was suckling on his nipples and eagerly pulling
open his trousers. He lifted his hips shamelessly to help Harry
remove the last of his clothing and groaned, lacing his hands through
the boy's messy hair when Harry couldn't quite stop himself from
leaning his head forward and giving the shaft a long lick before
sucking the head into his mouth.

Harry moaned at the musky taste on his tongue
(which he'd gone without for far too long) as he fought with the fly
of his own jeans, eagerly wriggling out of them. He wanted them both
bare-arsed, and he wanted it now. 'Fuck, he's too sexy.
...turned me into some kind of sex fiend and we've not even done it
yet.' “Mmmm...” he groaned as he took more of the
shaft into his mouth, wriggling his lower body to struggle his jeans
away from his ankles. 'Does he have any idea how good he
tastes? I wonder if I taste half as good to him.' Finally free
of the jeans he grabbed Snape's hips and deep-throated his shaft,
burying his nose into the black nest of curls and eagerly sucking the
turgid flesh. It had been more than two weeks since he'd last tasted
his love's seed and wanted it badly. He only barely remembered that
what he wanted more right now was the man's arse and released the
tense prick with a groan and one last lick.

Severus was relieved. If Harry hadn't released
him, he would have had to insist or their evening would have ended
quite prematurely. How much the young man loved to suck cock was
boggling, but Severus loved him all the more for it! Snape briefly
wished he was still a younger man, because he didn't think he
would have the stamina to enjoy Harry's lascivious side as much as
he'd like to. “Eager to please, aren't you?” he rasped.

“Fuck yes,” Harry answered. “Every
day, all day, for the rest of my life if it were physically
possible.”

The earnest reply went straight to Snape's
groin as he stood, making his way to the bed. His anus was already
twitching with desire. It had been far too long and he rather
thought Harry's thick shaft would make for a nice, snug fit. He
wanted to feel it, badly. Another night, perhaps, he could show
Harry how wonderful it felt to be taken, but tonight? Tonight he
wanted nothing more than to let Harry open him up, body and soul, and
eagerly receive however much of himself his beloved was willing to
give. He climbed onto the mattress and grabbed the headboard,
spreading his thighs and arching his back. He glanced over his
shoulder in invitation and watched Harry give his cock a squeeze to
try to contain some of its urgency before climbing up behind him and
opening the bottle.

“Harry.”

“Y-yeah?” Harry stuttered. He
didn't think he'd ever been this horny in his life, and Severus Snape
had spent the past half a year making him need intimacy almost more
than food. If Severus expected him to talk and shag at the same
time, he was done for. The way Severus was arching like that,
inviting him with his eyes and his beautiful long hair tumbling about
his shoulders, felt so exotic and so pornographic that he didn't know
how he was going to hold on once they were finally joined.

“Be sparing with the lubricant, and two
fingers only,” he said.

Harry bit his lip to repress a moan. He didn't
have to be experienced to know that Severus was implying he preferred
it a little rough, just like the way he liked his nipples twisted
hard, because 'a little pain is nothing, if it intensifies the
pleasure'. “You...don't like lube?” he asked, trying to
keep the lusty quaver from his voice and failing dismally.

“Not so much of it that I feel it
instead of you. Every man is shaped slightly differently,
Harry,” he explained with as much patience as he could manage
given the current state of lust racing through his veins. “Different
dips and bumps and curves. Do not lubricate yourself so completely
that I won't be able to fully enjoy those that are uniquely yours.”

“Oh, fuck...” Harry groaned. Did
Severus know how sexy that was? He must! He lathed two fingers with
the lubricant, careful not to squeeze out too much in his haste as
that wasn't what Severus wanted, and propped himself on his knees
behind him, dragging the middle finger down the older man's crevice
and circling the tight hole with it. “I...don't think I'm
going to be very patient, Sev...”

“Good,” Severus answered through
grit teeth. “Then we are on even ground for once. Now, for
the love of god, Harry, do not tease me.”

“You want my finger?” Harry
couldn't help but tease now that Severus had told him not to.

“Yes,” Severus hissed, his tone
hungry and impatient.

Harry smirked. “Just...plunge it in?”

“Yes!” Severus snapped,
exasperated.

“Fast and hard?” Harry asked,
already knowing that's exactly what Severus wanted and loving the man
for it.

“Harry, if you do not shove your bloody
finger up my arse right now, I will grab your hand and shove
it in myself!” Snape griped.

Harry thought he'd like to see that some time,
but not tonight. Before Severus finished the last word, he did as
asked and rammed the digit through the tight ring and up into the
older man's rectum. Severus moaned appreciatively. There was a dull
sting at the abrupt penetration, but that was little more than an
assurance that this was very much real. The small twinge of
pain helped ground him, assure him that it wasn't all a very
elaborate and detailed fantasy – that Harry Potter was really
and truly his. He released a shaky breath as Harry prodded
and explored his innards like a curious child with a new favorite
toy.

Harry stretched and coiled his finger, twisted
it, stroked the heated flesh he couldn't believe that Severus would
let anyone touch, and enjoyed the way it seemed to pulse hotly around
the welcome intrusion. He rested his forehead against the curve of
Snape's spine. “Merlin's beard, you're sexy,” he
murmured. “You're...okay?”

“Better than,” Severus answered.
“Keep going, Harry.”

Harry nodded, and slipped the second finger in
far more carefully. The muscles flexed so tight around them, and
Severus pressed his hips back so gorgeously to invite the
penetration, that he moaned right along with the older man. He'd
never seen anything more gorgeous than his love's pale spine arched
back toward him, his long black hair falling over his shoulders as
his head drooped, fighting for control as he carefully splayed and
twisted and thrust his fingers within the handsome man. Yes,
handsome. It was an unconventional beauty, perhaps, an imperfect
beauty, but Harry kept coming back to the fact that he found Severus
handsome. Handsome, and amorous. 'And I've been an idiot in
taking so long to realize it. Merlin, I'm hard. I can't wait much
longer.' “Severus...”

“Do it, Harry,” Severus answered,
turning his gaze over his shoulder and peering at him through a
curtain of dark hair. “Remember...”

“Not too much lube, I know,” Harry
smiled as he removed his fingers and reached for the tube again. He
made quick work of his tense prick because he was sure he'd explode
if he lingered, and leaned over the older man's shoulder, tucking his
hair out of the way so he could claim a kiss. He let his fingers toy
with the hair. It felt amazing, so soft and silky. Absolutely
perfect. “Whatever you did to your hair, I approve,” he
purred into the older man's ear before latching onto the lobe with
his teeth. He'd thought his lover's hair felt wonderful between his
fingers before, but now it was like finding something about the man
worth falling in love with all over again.

“Good. I'd hate to have wasted my hard
earned money on nonsense to please you and have you hate it,”
Severus rasped. The rasp became a groan of pleasure when he felt
Harry line himself up.

“How do you want me to...?” Harry
asked. He wanted inside his lover and he wanted in now, but
he restrained himself. His instinct was to go slowly, be gentle and
careful, but he'd learned that Severus seemed to like a bit of rough
treatment. He wanted to do whatever would please the older man the
most.

“Just follow your instincts, Harry.
However you want, whatever feels good.” As long as the young
man entered him, now. Severus couldn't wait any longer.
Rough or gentle, fast or slow – he would take whatever Harry
wanted to give provided there was shagging involved – graphic,
lusty, sweaty, cock-up-the-arse shagging. He wouldn't settle for
anything less.

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He held
Snape's cheeks open and carefully pressed his head within the tight
pucker. Even that was almost too much. He shuddered and squeezed
his eyes shut, biting his lip at the swell of pleasure that raced up
his spine. He'd thought to go slow and careful, but now that he felt
the tight heat swallowing him he knew that just wasn't possible.
Still, he managed to ease into the older man's passage at a rather
moderate, steady pace. Once fully seated, he let out the breath he
didn't realize he'd been holding. “Oh fuck...” he
rasped. And all this time he'd thought sucking and frotting felt
great! They didn't even begin to compare to the feeling of being
balls-deep in Severus' tight hole. He gripped the man's narrow hips
a little too roughly and dropped his forehead against his shoulder.

Severus dug his fingers into the headboard and
moaned. There was a stinging sensation, of course, but it was little
more than an aside. Feeling Harry behind him, within him, gripping
his hips tightly to try to contain his bliss, unable to keep himself
from cussing out his pleasure, was more than Severus thought he'd
earned in life, and far more than he thought he'd ever receive. Then
Harry started moving his hips – uncertainly at first, but with
a few return thrusts and a moan or two from Severus he found a pace
that pleased them both, a pace that could only be described as
reckless abandon. The sound of Harry's balls slapping against
Snape's arse only made the pleasure more distinct. Severus panted,
reaching to his hip for Harry's hand and gently coaxing it forward,
wrapping the digits around his own cock. Harry turned out to be a
far quicker study in shagging than he'd been in occlumency,
understanding what Snape wanted instinctively and gripping the man's
cock, treating it to hard pulls and sloppy gropes as he he jerked and
rolled his hips, thrusting erratically into the older man's ravenous
hole.

The world went white. Harry cried out Severus'
name as he released a heavy flow within him. Severus cried out
Harry's as he soiled the headboard and pillows with his own thick
release. They both felt it was over far too quickly when they fell
against the bedding together, but nothing else had been possible
after waiting for one another so long, not the first time.

As he lay on his stomach, quietly glorying in
the feeling of being with another man for the first time in far too
long and the dull sting in his backside that proved it, Severus felt
his mask of stoicism slip a bit. Harry curled into his side, kissed
the back of his shoulder. He radiated adoration. Severus didn't
think he needed to be a brilliant legilimens to sense it, but it
certainly helped. 'What does he see in me?' the older man
wondered. It amazed him how, after all the agony, all the despair,
all the needless bloodshed and war, he (of all people) emerged on the
other end relatively unscathed, with a heart full of love for a
handsome young man who actually reciprocated his feelings. He didn't
have any delusions – he knew any relationship between himself
and Harry Potter would be fraught with troubles. They would bicker,
tease, misunderstand one another's intentions the way they always
had, and when they were done with that, there would be the bloody
Prophet to contend with. Harry's friends, surely, wouldn't
approve. He could already imagine the look on Molly Weasley's face
when she found out, and the stern lecture. 'Damn woman. My own
mother never lectured me, I don't see why I have to listen to her.'
But when Molly yelled, you shut up and listened. Even Severus
Snape knew enough to fear the repercussions of not doing so.

“Hey,” Harry whispered. “What
are you thinking about so hard?”

“Life,” Severus answered.

“Life?” Harry asked.

“Yes, life. My place in yours, for
example, and how many headaches it's going to cause me.”

Harry awarded him with an impish smirk and
kissed his shoulder again, straddling the older man's narrow hips.
“Headaches can wait,” he said, leaning down to drag his
lips over the space between his lover's shoulder blades, then another
an inch or so down his back. “I think you should be worrying
more about how much a totally different part of your body is going to
ache come morning.”

Harry pressed another kiss further down his
spine, and another. Severus found, much to his surprise, his body
was already beginning to respond. “Is sex all you think
about?” he asked, repressing a groan as his young lover dragged
his tongue down the curve of his back.

“No,” Harry purred, pausing to bite
back the rush of desire that made him shudder at the sight of Snape's
recently filled hole. His groin was already filling to hardness
again as he thought of going another round – slower this time,
more patient. This time, he knew what to expect. He wouldn't let it
get out of control and get off too soon again. “Sex with you
is all I think about,” he answered. Before Severus could come
up with an appropriately biting reply, Harry did what he did best-
acted on instinct. He dragged his tongue deeper and licked up some of
the seed that had dripped from the older man's hole.

Not expecting such a thing from the supposedly
inexperienced Gryffindor, Snape moaned before he could bite it back,
his groin already fully erect again and pressed into the mattress.

Harry licked his lips, finding the sensation
sexy and really not at all unpleasant. He wanted to do all sorts of
dirty things with Snape – some clean ones too, like cuddling on
the couch on a Sunday afternoon, or finding a cozy corner of a
favorite bar they liked to go to together, but for the moment, with
the man naked and luminescent in the moonlight pouring through the
narrow window, his mind was rather focused on the things that
couldn't be discussed in polite company – like how sexy his
lover looked with an arse full of come. “Learning what you
like,” he murmured, dragging his tongue along the pucker again,
thoroughly cleaning his love's arse while knowing full well he was
planning to soil it again very, very soon. “...Showing you all
the things I like...” He pulled back and gently nudged Snape's
hip to roll him onto his back, smirking at the proud erection
sticking up so beautifully from between the older man's spread
things. He climbed over his lover and leaned down to kiss his jaw,
moaning in pleasant surprise when the older man turned his head so
that their lips connected and thrust his tongue forcefully into his
mouth – where Harry's had just been only seemed to egg Severus
on. Harry let Snape have control of the kiss for now, shivered
contently when those long, pale legs wrapped around his spine.
“Mmn...discovering a few new things that we both like,
together,” Harry finished with a soft moan when the kiss broke.

“That sounds like a rather good night,”
Severus said, shifting his hips to properly position Harry's erection
at his entrance.

Harry, for once, seemed to read his mind –
he rammed himself in hard and fast, groaning in pleasure to find
himself so thoroughly welcomed once again by the tight heat of
Severus' arse. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself.
This time, he was determined that his stamina would win out over his
desire. 'Well, if it doesn't, I suppose I'll just have to keep
practicing...all night, if that's what it takes,' he mused. This
time, he didn't bother chiding his Evil Little Voice for being a
pervert. There really wasn't any point. After all, his lover seemed
to be just as excitable as he was. “Sounds like a rather good
life,” Harry answered with his first long thrust.

Severus didn't bother holding in the moan. He
wanted Harry to hear it, to feel it, and from that to know how sorry
he was for assuming the worst of the man he loved, and also how
grateful he was that he had because of where it had led them. He
smirked into the next kiss and said, “For once, Potter,
I think you're onto something.”

Harry smirked right back. “Does this mean
I get an Outstanding for once, Professor?” he quipped.

“For the moment, I think we will have to
call it an Exceeds Expectations, and see where the night leads us.”

Harry grinned against Snape's throat as he
thrust into the older man again, glorying in the “Oooohh...”
that rolled past his love's lips from somewhere deep within his
chest. He spent the rest of the night exceeding his lover's
expectations, learning by touch, taste, and sound. The magic between
them sparked in the air when they kissed again, and Snape knew with
absolute certainty that his age would most certainly not be getting
in the way of keeping up with the libidinous young man who seemed
intent on spending the night filling his arse.

They met the rising sun with an intense orgasm
the next morning. Severus collapsed weakly against bed linens that he
knew even the most advanced cleaning spell wouldn't save, but smiled
softly as Harry groaned, protesting his aching muscles, and slipped
out of the older man's over-filled arse, landing with a soft thump
against the mattress beside him. He grumbled about something sticking
into his side, and lifted the empty tube of lubricant, tossing it
absently to the floor before curling against his lover and giving him
a lazy, thoroughly sated kiss. They enjoyed leisurely tangling their
tongues for a while before Harry pulled back and peered at his lover
with half-lidded eyes. “How many times was that?” he
asked blearily.

Snape shook his head a bit in reply. “I
lost count after five.”

Harry grinned into Snape's shoulder. More than
five orgasms, in a row. Harry couldn't even guess at exactly
how many it had been. All he was certain of was that he didn't think
either of them would be able to move properly for days. Once he'd
gotten a taste of his lover's desire, his beautiful moans, the way he
let his stoicism go and caressed him and whispered to him, and met
his gaze with such adoration and his thrusts with such abandon, he
couldn't stop himself from seeing how long he could keep it up, keep
Snape's masks cast aside. It was just so wonderful to finally, after
so much time and grief, be joined with the man he loved that he
couldn't bring himself to end it, even when his muscles began to
protest and the world started to blur about the edges, and even his
Evil Little Voice had fallen silent. And in spite of how sated and
exhausted and messy they both were, he could barely wait until they
had enough energy to go at it again. He wanted to make Severus moan
more, sob his name in ecstasy again. Yes, it was definitely
going to be a wonderful life. “Breakfast?” he asked,
though he could barely keep his eyes open.

Severus grunted irritably. “Sleep,”
he insisted. “And so help me if you wake me before noon.”

Harry lifted his head one last time to press a
kiss to the corner of the older man's mouth. “Love you,”
he purred.

“I love you too, you salacious little
fool. Now go to sleep before I find something heavy with which
to render you unconscious.”

Harry smirked lazily, nuzzling his head against
Severus's shoulder, content to remain splayed across the bed because
he honestly couldn't bear to move for the moment. “Kinky
bastard,” he teased, and was asleep before Severus could get
his tired mind around an adequately scathing reply.

Snape sighed and ran his fingers through
Harry's messy hair. That had been far, far too much. They should
have stopped after the third round and gone to sleep. Of course,
knowing that, and feeling his body heavy and aching everywhere didn't
mean he hadn't loved every second of it, and it certainly didn't mean
he didn't love Harry. “Beautiful, charming, erotic,
infuriatingly loveable git,” he sighed with a soft smile. “You
complete me.”

TO
BE CONTINUED...
- 15
- 16
- 17
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Young At Heart