Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Derailed	By : SickPuppy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 19739 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-I:I
- 2-I:II
- 3-I:III
- 4-I:IV
- 5-I:V
- 6-I:VI
- 7-I:VII
- 8-I:VIII
- 9-I:IX
- 10-II:I
- 11-II:II
- 12-II:III
- 13-II:IV
- 14-II:V
- 15-II:VI
- 16-II:VII
- 17-II:VIII
- 18-II:IX
- 19-III:I
- 20-III:II
- 21-III:III
- 22-III:IV
- 23-III:V
- 24-III:VI
- 25-III:VII
- 26-III:VIII
- 27-III:IX
- 28-Epilogue
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Chapter Four: So tired that I couldn't even sleep

It was early morning over a fortnight later and Harry lay on his bed staring blankly at the gloomy ceiling. He had gone to sleep after climaxing in Snape's mouth, but now he was wide awake. The collar was tight around his neck but it was no good. His hands shook slightly as he contemplated tip-toeing downstairs and finding a knife.

He clenched his hands into fists, desperate to avoid giving in to the need. Then he wondered why he was trying so hard. It was only Snape who had commanded he not cut himself; and his captor/whatever-the-hell Snape was had no right to demand anything of Harry.

So, with a quick movement, he twisted out of bed and into slippers before padding out of his room and down into the kitchen.

The kitchen was dark and cool, as the hearth had only a few embers glowing in it. Quietly, listening for any sound that might have suggested that Snape was close by, he went over to the knife block and slid out the knife he had used many times to slice into his flesh. His palm closed around it and he shivered as the cool metal pressed into his warm, slightly shaking skin.

He sat down and faced the door, not wanting to be caught in this action. He stared at the knife and considered where best to slice into himself. Given how much of his skin Snape might see, he had to really think hard to find somewhere to cut where it wouldn't be immediately apparent. One by one he considered and rejected options – thighs? Upper arms? Calves? Feet? Ah, feet!

He tugged his left foot out of his slipper and pulled his foot into his lap, blade now pressing onto his flesh. Harry took a deep breath and pressed in, breaking the skin and staining the skin with blood. He wanted to savour this moment and enjoy it, feeling the bite of the sharp blade slicing into him.

A painful klaxon went off, deafening him. Above he heard a loud thump as of a man rudely awakened falling out of bed, and then a brief silence before pounding steps sounded on the stairs.

Snape raced into the kitchen, wand out, eyes narrowed and at once took in the sight: Harry was standing on one leg, the other just hovering above his slipper. On the floor at his feet was a blood stained knife. Shock was on the younger man's face.

Waving his wand, the noise stopped. The silence throbbed between them.

Snape prowled closer to Harry and sighed. “You were doing so well, Harry. For over two weeks now! Why have you done this?”

“What?” Harry aimed for nonchalance, but wobbling on one foot made nonchalance rather tricky to pull off.

Huffing out an annoyed breath, Snape made a grab for Harry's hovering leg and pulled it awkwardly up. Harry wobbled even more and clutched at the chair for support. Snape was examining the underside of the foot with the neat slice across one arch. He pulled his eyebrows down but quickly cast the musical spell Harry had heard before when Draco had been attacked by him. The wound vanished and his leg released.

“You put a spell on the knives?” Harry asked, anger burning. He wasn't a child to have his decisions made for him!

“Yes. I hoped to never need to tell you, and one day, to be able to remove them.”

Harry sank into the chair, head in his hands. There was nothing he could do to make the pain go away. Nothing. And Snape just didn't understand that what he needed was more than what he was allowed; more than Snape was prepared to give him. Sometimes, just climaxing wasn't enough; he needed an edge of pain to make it truly exquisite. His fingers shook – how could the other wizard demand so much of him and offer so little in return when he tried, he really did try, to heal.

Snape crouched in front of him, hands gentle, but then a finger hooked through the collar Harry still wore and his voice was frigid. “What is this?”

Harry pulled free, knocking his chair over. “You can't do this to me! You can't just decide I'm all better and expect me to be able to do it! I need something still! Can't you understand what I need? But instead you just decided I would have to stop cutting myself and gave me nothing – nothing – to help me deal with the pain!”

Harry thumped his hand down on the table and started yelling, “It doesn't work like that! You can't just wave your wand and make all the wounds heal. It just isn't that simple! You're the one who said I was damaged, so do something about it!”

Looking a little dazed at the tidal wave of noise crashing over him, Snape leaned on the table, looking suddenly so very much older. Taking strength from Snape's weakness, Harry stomped closer, green eyes flaring with helpless fury.

Snape looked up at him, breathing deeply. “I – I thought...” he shook himself and stood up, pulling his control back around himself, “I thought if I gave you pleasure and took none, it would help. It would make you see you can enjoy things without the pain and the control you learnt.”

He shook his head once again, as if chiding himself for his own foolishness. Severus longed to help this fragile man, but just didn't know how. He had thought Harry had been healing, but had he worn the metal collar every night? Had he hidden such a dark secret from Severus? Harry must have known how Snape would react upon learning of the item being used; and yet, and yet, Harry had needed so much more than Severus had been able to give him. He knew, whatever Harry was demanding, he could not, would not, succumb to hurting Harry to help him feel better for a few moments.

Harry, unaware of the older man's turmoil, admitted, “It – it does help. I can sleep immediately after, but I wake up. It's no good then. And I tried, really, really, I tried not to do it. But I just couldn't help it tonight. I just couldn't take it any more. I was all alone in the dark, and just ...”

Snape slid an arm around Harry. “I know. You've done well to fight it so far, but then you've always been stronger than people realised.” He paused, feeling exposed, “But, don't ever do it again, please, Harry. Wake me up. It's far nicer than having that damn sound wake me up!”

“You fell out of bed, didn't you?” Harry asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

A flush stained Snape's cheeks. “Of course not. I – I would never do such a thing.”

“I heard you. It sounded painful.”

Rubbing his side, the older man muttered, “It was. Very. So, no more alarms, please. No more knives.”

Harry ran his finger along the metal band. “And this?” he sounded scared.

Sighing, Snape said, “I don't know yet, Harry. Maybe we can make some kind of allowance for it, just until you don't need it any more. I don't have all the answers. Just like you, I'm trying to find my way. This damned situation isn't exactly normal for either of us.” He pushed his dark hair off his face. “So, make allowances for me too, please.”

Harry hadn't given any thought to how out of his depth Snape was. Somehow he assumed that all the 'proper' grown-ups had all the answers. Maybe, really, everyone was screwed up in their own particular way. Harry's way was just more noticeable than most. Which meant, he supposed, it was more noticeable when he began to get better.

He chewed his lower lip, not to cause a cut, but out of sheer confusion. “I – I guess we can work on stuff,” he offered, “but, what about tonight? What about me getting back to sleep?”

“You did say climaxing helped. And there I can assist you,” Snape said, his voice so damned sensuous that Harry's dick sproinged to attention.

“Upstairs?” Harry asked, almost gasping with the sudden need.

“Indeed. Upstairs.”

Once in Harry's room, Snape pushed the door to – he had already learnt not to close the door as it made Harry feel too much as though he were back in that other room – he gently led Harry to the bed and encouraged the younger man to lie down, not that Harry needed much encouraging. He pulled off his trousers and lay down on his side, facing Snape.

“What would you like?” Snape asked, feeling the arousal coil in the pit of his stomach, and knowing he had done the right thing to stop his own erection.

Harry flushed. Despite everything they had done, he found it difficult to verbalise his desires in this situation. “Y – your hand,” he whispered, “but, kiss me too.”

Snape slid onto the bed, his sore side pressed into the bedding, but he ignored that in favour of sliding his fingers around the stiff length and tugging experimentally on it. He leaned in and was about to kiss Harry when he stilled. “I will not do this while you wear that thing,” he insisted gruffly.

Harry cast the spell to get rid of the collar and slid a palm onto Snape's cheek as their lips touched. Between his legs, Severus set up a steady rhythm that he knew Harry enjoyed, and which brought him to climax after he had had a long, delicious tightening spring of heightening arousal.

Groaning into Snape's mouth, Harry didn't even realise his hips were moving back and forth in time with the pressure around his dick. In his mouth was the warm tongue of this man who had so claimed him, and who was working so hard to make him better.

Snape's tongue slithered in and stroked the warm wet sides and tangled with the younger wizard's tongue. His hand kept up its steady rhythm – slide down, squeeze, pull up, squeeze the swollen tip, then slide back down, enjoying the feeling of Harry grinding into his grip, wanting this touch. It made his own body ache and long to feel hard, but if he could only be with Harry like this, he would accept it. The younger man needed to regain some control in his life, and if it were through physical intimacy, so much the better (from Snape's point of view).

“Gonna... gonna....” Harry panted, pulling his lips free and moaning.

Snape longed to tell the other man to come, but feared reinforcing Harry's need to be dominated. “Why fight it?” he asked as he increased the pace and tightened his hand a touch more, knowing Harry adored an almost painful grip on his cock.

“Oh God!” Harry cried out, spurting.

Snape kissed the swollen lips and cleaned Harry up. He tucked the younger man under his sheets and kissed the sweaty forehead. “Try to sleep now,” he said.

Yawning, Harry nodded, but he also said, “Stay.” He held out one languid hand and patted the space beside him on the bed.

Snape hardly dared to breathe. If Harry was serious, he would gladly join him, but if it were just tiredness talking, he'd rather not.

Cracking his mouth wide open on a huge yawn, Harry said again, his voice slightly more awake, “Stay.”

Worried that if he refused, it would prevent Harry from sleeping, Severus slid into the bed beside the dopey man.

“Good,” Harry muttered, turning his face into Snape's chest and yawning once more before dozing off.
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