Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Tell Me It\'s Over	By : KohakuShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3082 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry potter, nor am I making any money off of it. If I did, it would be gayer. Gay gay gay gay gay. :)

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II.

'He didn't know it then – that when I said goodbye to him that morning, I meant for good.' Severus lifted his glass to his lips, but frowned when only a droplet of liquor escaped past the clattering ice cubes. He frowned at it. When had he finished that? Never mind, another wouldn't kill him, and if it did, all the better. He got up from the armchair and poured another glass.

He wished he could remember only the warmth of Harry's body and the playfulness of his smile. The sound of his voice, rough with lust, whispering filthy things into his ear. The way his former lover's cock had felt in the palm of his hand, or how it tasted...the way Harry's voice would crack in the heat of the moment and his voice would sometimes abandon him when he came. He could close his eyes and almost imagine the boy's hot seed dashing across his tongue as he cried out his name, losing the last syllable to the force of the orgasm, but it was only a memory, and one which grew more distant with each passing day.

He knew he shouldn't have become involved with Harry. He'd known from the moment it began how it was fated to end, more or less. But, he had been so deprived of affection in life that when the young Gryffindor tried to seduce him, he was flattered. Before he knew it, two years had passed in which Harry's flirtations had become notably less idle, and he had resigned himself to the fact that he neither could, nor wanted to, deny the fool boy what he had made it so obvious he wanted any longer.

Severus shivered and gulped down his freshly-poured whiskey in disgust before pouring another, swearing to himself it would be the last. He couldn't afford to be so horribly inebriated that the careful mask over his thoughts slipped, no matter how much he might want to be.

No, as much as he wanted to remember only the best of what had passed between himself and Harry Potter, the worst was most prominent. Their relationship had always been complex. They fought incessantly, but they made up with just as much passion. Now it was over, and it was his own reluctant decision, but what pained him the most was not that he had ended a clumsy relationship that had become too dangerous to continue – on that, he knew he had made the right choice. What pained him most was the intense, yet inevitable, look of disbelief and pure hatred Harry had cast on him as he chased Severus from the grounds of Hogwarts. Even more than Dumbledore's equally inevitable death, which left a hard knot in his throat that wanted to come out as a miserable sob, that expression contorting Harry's features, knowing he could blame no one for it but himself, that was almost too much to bear.

'It was the only way. Anything less, and he would have chased me to the ends of the earth.' How many times had he told himself that? He had to stop dwelling on it. The more drunk he got, and the more he thought on what he'd lost, the more defenseless he would be against the Dark Lord's incessant prodding. He put his glass down half finished, sorely tempted to scream and throw the glass across the room just to free himself from some of his nerves, if only for an instant, but he didn't dare.

So he told himself, but he had to do something to calm this nervous energy. He sighed, because he knew there was only one option open to him that alcohol was not required for. It was late, anyway. He was not prone to self- pleasure unless the situation was desperate, but he couldn't think of any reasons not to, now. His left hand was the only friend he had left.

He stripped off his outer robes and draped them over the hanging charm on the back of the door, leaving him in naught but his thigh length tunic. He checked the wardrobe to see how many clean tunics he had left in Lucius' guest wardrobe, and with a staid little nod to himself and a reminder to see that his washing is done by Wednesday, settled into the bed, which, on a silent understanding, was reserved solely for him. He supposed that's all two-hundred and fourteen blow jobs earned a man these days – a bed in someone else's house that he felt comfortable enough to wank in.

He slid his hand up along the inside of his thigh and closed his eyes, freeing that dark and hidden recess of his mind just enough to remember Harry as he was sure he would never see him again – his quirky little smile, those bright green eyes laughing at some ridiculous joke. Then there was that infernal invisibility cloak – the first time Harry had shown up wearing it and hidden beneath his desk, and Severus couldn't quite put his finger on what was out of place until he felt the tongue lick him through his pants. And, half an hour later, when he found out the cloak was the only stitch of clothing Harry was wearing.

Severus pursed his lips, remembering how he'd ordered Harry to remove it only to find a very aroused, very naked teenager smirking at him. He remembered just how many times Harry had appeared in his office, or his rooms, just like that – silently sneaking up and nibbling on his ear when he was brewing...

Severus bit his lip as his organ swelled under the force of his memories. He slipped his hand along the soft skin, remembering how easily Harry's naked body and little smiles could bend him to his will. He had tried not to let it. He had tried to stand firm, but at the end of the day, the only firm thing about him was standing shamelessly between his thighs. He could no more resist Harry's charms than a sandy beach could resist the ebb and flow of the tide.

And oh, how they had ebbed and flowed, both in the bedroom and out of it. Harry would get so angry with him at times, and give him this glare that went straight to his cock, because he knew he would see the boy that night, that the sex would be rough and there would be biting. ...and that after that, they would make up, and make love slowly. Oh, how he hated to call it making love – the way Harry would kiss his thighs and smile an unexpectedly angelic smile at him, how little coaxing it took to make him spread them and submit to Harry's will...how much he hated how happy it made him to do that. And, of course, the way Harry would kiss his throat as he buried himself inside of his much older lover...

Severus pressed his lips together hard, trying to swallow the moan that wanted to escape at the memory of Harry's cock buried balls deep in his arse. Slow, strong thrusts. He might be comfortable enough to wank in this bed, but that didn't mean he particularly wanted the entire house knowing what he was doing. His eyes squeezed shut and he dug his long fingers into the duvet as his hand sped up over his cock, his hips shifting and wriggling as his hand raced up and down his shaft. Just the memory of Harry was enough to set his loins aflame and turn his spine to jelly. 'Oh, how I want you...' he thought blearily. 'Harry!'

He had only enough forethought to pull his tunic up to his chest before a silent orgasm overtook him and his body quivered. As he was in the midst of it, he remembered the look of pure hatred contorting Harry's features when he'd sneered at him 'I am the Half-Blood Prince'. It was enough to bring a tear to his eye. Just one. He wanted to run back to him, apologize for everything, hold him tightly. He wished he could, but life was not so kind. 'I am truly sorry, Harry. Making you hate me was the only thing I could do to help you, then.'

"Harry," he whispered the forbidden name as his breathing regulated and his spine relaxed.

"Missing your little boyfriend, are you?"

Severus nearly jumped out of his skin. His dark eyes fixed on Lucius, who was standing lazily beside the door. How long had he been there? Had he really not noticed? He decided to blame it on the whiskey. He couldn't afford to drink so heavily again. As usual, he was a quick thinker as he sat up and grabbed his wand to clean up. "Well, whatever else may be true, he was a brilliant fuck." He had wanted to say lover, but it wouldn't do to use such an endearing term now. He had to make sure that it appeared such a minor thing that Lucius would never mention it again. He sat up and offered a bland shrug. "Worth a fantasy or two, if nothing else."

"True enough," Lucius conceded as he turned the ornate velvet chair beside the desk around. "But everyone else is asleep. Why don't you come back to reality for a while, hm?" He unfastened his trousers.

Severus didn't have to guess the reason he'd come. It was the reason he always came. It was the reason the nicest guest room in Malfoy Manor was reserved for him, and it was the way he got it. He adjusted his tunic and crossed the room to settle between Lucius' thighs.

But when he closed his lips around the pink tip of the man's cock, in that deep, hidden part of his mind, it was still Harry he was thinking of.

to be continued...
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Tell Me It\'s Over