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
- 22
- 23
- 24
Chapter Five: I can go where no-one else can go

Another fortnight passed. At first, Snape only shared Harry's bed when explicitly asked, but, somehow, after perhaps six nights spent holding the younger man, it was just assumed that he would sleep with Harry.

That had been indicated simply enough: that night, Harry had settled down and left the bedclothes turned down. He had rolled onto his side and stretched, making no comment, but the older man knew what was being asked. So, quietly, Snape had slid in beside the younger wizard and gently kissed the back of the neck.

Harry had rolled onto his back, mouth questing for Snape's, and they had kissed passionately whilst Snape's hand slid down and began pumping the dick he was so familiar with.

Now, he slept beside Harry and was better able to monitor the other man's mental state. On nights when Harry seemed to want more brutal treatment, Snape would spend longer making Harry climax: he'd use his mouth on the balls rather than just dipping his head to swallow Harry's aching shaft; he'd stroke very gently at the puckered entrance, longing to enter, but forcing himself to stay in control – he wouldn't even slide a digit into Harry; not until the younger man was nearer mental well-being.

This morning he awoke, as he usually did, before Harry, and slid out of bed to empty his bladder and start breakfast. Their routine rarely varied now: Snape would get the fire burning, put a kettle on the stove and would decide what they were going to consume that day. Once the kettle was boiling, he'd take a cup of tea up to Harry.

Harry would usually wake up when the curtains were opened, and stare, a little dazedly, around the room until his mind woke up fully. Then he would take the drink, place it on the bedside table and pull Snape down to kiss and pleasure him. His climax achieved, Harry would down the cooling tea and get out of bed.

This morning Snape saw by the look in the younger man's eyes that Harry had been having a difficult dream. Harry's eyes had a white edge to them, and his breathing was much too fast. So, he slid his hands onto the chest and rubbed the nipples between his fingers. He wasn't hurting Harry, exactly, but it did make Harry more desperate for sex. This was as far as he was prepared to go to give Harry what his injured mind wanted.

Harry groaned and begged for Snape to do something, to get on with it, and to make him come already!

Snape listened to the pleading and kissed his way down the twitching stomach to the boxers. His hands moved and pulled off the underwear, then he settled himself: his head between Harry's trembling thighs, his fingers still reaching up to pluck and twist at the hard nubs.

Lying under him, Harry writhed at the delicious torment, wanting a little pain and blood to make it even better, but trying to stop himself. When Snape slid his hot lips around Harry, the younger man cried out, and bit his lower lip to quieten his screams of pleasure. A little blood oozed out of the abused lip and Harry lapped at it, aware, somewhere in his mind, that he shouldn't, and that he should tell Snape.

“Bl – bleeding,” Harry gasped and whimpered as the mouth lifted off him at once.

Snape crawled up and gently looked at the inside of the lip. It was a small wound and Harry was resisting licking at the small amount of blood oozing out. His eyes were warm and proud as he saw the bite and Harry's almost lost expression. “You told me?” he asked it, voice shaken, “You told me, rather than just taste the blood?”

Harry blushed; he'd not considered what a big step he had just taken. At the moment he didn't want Snape's approval. All he really wanted was to have his cock sucked until he finally came.

Snape kissed him, gently, so as not to cause any more damage, before moving back between the legs. “Can you resist the blood if I make you scream with pleasure?”

Harry nodded, green eyes fixed on the black ones.

“Very well.” Dipping his head again, Snape let almost Harry's entire length be swallowed up. It was almost driving into his throat, the tip slamming against the top of his mouth with each compressing suck Snape gave.

“Oh … sweet …. SHIT!” Harry shrieked and spurted.

His cock was still captured in the hot wetness and he whimpered when the sensitive tip was lathed with the masterful tongue. There a slight 'plop' as he slid free of the mouth, which made him turn dazed eyes onto the man currently licking his lips.

“Oh … don't! Do you have any idea what that looks like?!” Harry moaned and opened his mouth to be kissed again.

After long lazy moments, Snape pulled free. “Breakfast?” he enquired, a slight smile twisting his dour face into something approaching handsome, “Bacon sandwiches?”

“Bacon butties?!” Harry sat up, “Definitely!”

Snape frowned at the slang term, but left Harry to wash and dress whilst he grilled bacon, cut and buttered bread, and dug out the sauce bottles.

When Harry came down to the kitchen, a truly awe inspiring bacon butty met his sight. He felt vaguely guilty that Snape did all the cooking, but when the man was so good at it, it did rather make sense.

Scoffing the sandwich and looking hopefully for a second (he wasn't disappointed), Harry said, “I suppose I should give some thought to destroying old Snake-face, shouldn't I?”

Insides churning with pain at the thought of losing Harry when he was finally beginning to get better, Snape nodded. “Yes. The Ravenclaw or Gryffindor horcrux is logically going to be at Hogwarts. But exactly where is going to be the trick.”

Harry swiped a dropped dollop of brown sauce and stuck his finger in his mouth to lick off the remnants before he spoke, “Well, since Hermione returned Phineas, I've asked him to talk to the manipulative ass hole and find out where the las....” he trailed off, suddenly realising that the item at Hogwarts wasn't the last horcrux. He corrected himself and went on, “find out where that horcrux could be.”

“Any luck?” Snape asked. He knew that Professor Black had hardly been seen in his painting that hung in Harry's room since he had been replaced on the wall, but that meant little: Black had never been the most sociable of helpers. Too, it was highly likely that Black would not want to witness some of the things Snape and Harry did in the bed.

Harry shrugged, slurping a fresh cup of tea. “Not so far, but the pictures will be able to discover far more than we ever could, certainly without risking our lives.”

Nodding his head, Snape cleared away the plates and re-filled the kettle. “Any plans for today?”

So far, since they had begun living together, Harry had remained in the house, occasionally reading a book without much enthusiasm, and sending looks of longing at Snape. For his part, Snape tried to pretend he hadn't seen the vast majority of the looks, as they made his balls ache and made him want to end the spell. And no matter how much Harry was improving, he still had too many bad hours and bad nights to be ready for sex.

Harry shrugged. What he really wanted was to fucked by Snape. But, he suddenly amended his thought – he didn't want that, he wanted to have sex with Snape. His eyes widened as he considered the difference in the two statements.

“I want to have sex with you,” Harry admitted.

“I know that. Foolish boy.”

“No, listen. I want to have sex with you. Not, I want to be fucked by you.”

Snape blinked, aware of the change in attitude. “You're making huge strides today,” he said, trying to keep the quiver out of his voice. It would never do for Harry to realise just how close to tears the older man was, “I'm so pleased.”

“Yeah,” Harry's tone turned bitter, “yay for me! I get better just in time to die. Whoop-de-fucking-do!”

Snape's jaw tightened. He was all too aware of the brief time Harry had; and, with the man's new attitude, it made him consider if he could end the spell and give Harry what they both so desperately wanted.

Deciding, very reluctantly, that he couldn't just have sex with Harry, not yet, anyway, Snape thought again about the horcruxes. “Dumbledore told me it was probably Ravenclaw's lost diadem, or the sword of Gryffindor. And I can't see it being the sword. So, we somehow have to find a missing tiara. Well, that should be easy?!” His tone was deeply sarcastic.

“I know,” Harry said softly. “And who said anything about 'we'? If you go out there, Snake-face will kill you for betraying him.”

“And he won't kill you I suppose?” Snape asked.

“I need to die,” Harry replied simply, even though he felt a tide of bitterness well up in him again as he thought of the injustice of it all.

Snape didn't think he could simply hold Harry and not be rejected, but physicality between them was so normal that Harry would accept being stimulated and relieved. His heart breaking, he pulled Harry into his arms and began kissing the younger man.
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