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You Don't See Me	By : KohakuShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 11703 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. I'm not making any money off of writing fanfiction for it, either. Obviously.

Chapter List
- 1-I
- 2-II
- 3-III
- 4-IV
- 5-V
- 6-VI
- 7-VII
- 8-VIII
- 9-IX
- 10-X
- 11-XI
- 12-XII
- 13-XIII
- 6
- 7
- 8
VII.
'I dream of fire when you're touching my hand, but it twists into
smoke when I turn on the light.'

Harry Potter had always been
secretly afraid of the dark. Voldemort had been a solid enemy, a face
that he could put to his fears, an object that he could fight and
eventually defeat. Now that he was gone, Harry realized that raging
against the cold left side of his bed wouldn't do anyone any good.

Afraid of the dark. And yet, a
part of him longed for the dark, because at least in his dreams he
could be with the man he loved. In the waking world, nothing could be
farther from the truth. He had done what he could to help Severus
from a distance—certain trouble-making students now called
Harry 'the Devil' because he'd done such a thorough job of punishing
them for pranks he knew damn well he'd have laughed at were he still
a student. But Snape would loathe all the childish gags, and so,
Harry did his best to quash all possible student revolts that might
arise. His foul temper these days made that rather easy. He needed
something he could lash out at. The students just happened to be in
his way. He was sure he'd feel guilty about it later, but he wasn't
going to worry about it for now.

He hadn't seen Snape in a week.
He avoided going to the Great Hall when he knew Severus would be
there, and took to dining an hour later than his stomach was entirely
happy with. He didn't want to. He'd do anything just to catch a
glimpse of the man at this point, but Severus wanted nothing to do
with him.

Harry knew he should pack his
things. There would be no shortage of job opportunities, and Ron
would be happy enough to let him crash for a week or two while he
tried to figure out what he would do with the rest of his life, but
he couldn't bear to go. Even if Snape never spoke to him again, there
was a cold comfort in knowing that they were at least in the same
building, walking the same halls.

With that comfort also came, of
course, heart-wrenching agony from which there didn't seem to be any
reprieve, but he would take that agony just for the slim chance that
maybe he could catch a glimpse of his love somewhere, sometime, when
the older man was occupied and therefore didn't notice him.

In the meanwhile, Harry had come
to find comfort in the dark that once so terrified him. Dark—like
the depth of Snape's eyes, his long tangles of hair, the robes that
billowed behind him as he strode purposefully down the corridors, his
shoes clicking methodically on the tile. The dark had become, in a
manner of speaking, Harry's only real friend at Hogwarts. In the
depth of night, he could let his imagination run away with him.

Tonight was the same as every
other night. He sighed softly, let his eyes droop. His bed, big
enough for two, would be a lonely companion, but was the only one he
had in this. He took stock of the room. Everything he would need was
on the night stand—a glass of water, a bottle of lotion, and
his wand. He lifted the last and whispered 'nox' to the empty room.
Darkness swallowed him. He stretched his hands out before him and was
content in that he could only make out the barest outline of them. He
dragged the back of one slowly across his cheek, tilted his head into
it and sighed. It was an unnecessary gesture, but helped with the
illusion.

Then he began to undress. At
first it was slow and methodical, the way he imagined Snape would
undress him. He removed his robes and wasted time folding them and
resting them on a nearby chair before allowing himself to continue.
By the time he got to his pants he was more clumsy and rushed. He
liked to imagine Snape getting a little more impatient, but not
wanting to show signs of it, so he didn't touch himself. Not yet. He
wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. He wanted to imagine Snape being
unable to stop himself—but Severus Snape was nothing if not
absolutely in control of all his faculties nearly all of the time. He
waited until he lowered himself to the bed. Then he couldn't wait any
longer and gave himself a firm squeeze and two strokes, just to take
the edge off. 'He'd like to tease. He would make me suffer a
little.' He bucked his hips at the empty air dragged his fingers,
just barely over his nipples. He continued this for a few minutes,
far longer than he would have, except that he imagined Snape over him
teasing and tormenting.

'What's the matter, Harry,'
Snape would tease. 'You
look...tense.' He would drag his
fingers lightly along the center line of Harry's chest and slowly, oh
so slowly, downward, circle his navel with a nail, and then abandon
him in favor of undressing himself. Slowly...oh so very
slowly. Harry would want to touch
himself as he watched the pale skin gradually reveal itself, but he
would also know without being told that it was not permitted.

'Sev. Please...stop teasing,'
he would beg, but he wouldn't mean
it.

'I am not teasing, Potter,'
Severus would answer. 'I
am teaching. You could
do with a bit more patience, I think.'

Then he would come back to the
bed. He'd lower his face over Harry's chest and blow hot breath
across his taut nipples. Harry would beg incoherently. Whimper, say
'please' over and over, but not know what it was he was begging for
when Severus prompted him to be more specific. He would arch and
writhe, and then, rather suddenly...

Harry grabbed his nipple and
twisted it as hard as he could. “Oh! Fuck...yes. Severus.
Please...god!”

The other nipple would suddenly
be consumed by that hot, delectable mouth.

Harry whimpered, rubbed at his
nipples and writhed on the mattress. What he really wanted, needed,
was his cock to be toyed with, or his arse...but no, Severus would
ignore those for now. He would torment him until he thought he would
burst from the agony of his lust for the man. Well, recent
developments made Harry wonder if his earlier impressions of how
Snape would treat him were true, but masturbating in the dark was
hardly the time to question one's fantasies.

Harry groaned and reached for
the lotion. He'd thought about lubricating potions, but it was too
embarrassing to go to the store and buy one, and he didn't trust his
ability with potions enough to make it himself. In the end, doing it
the muggle way was just more practical. He lathered as much on his
hands as he could manage patience for and dragged his fingers down
his torso. “Aaaah...mmnn...”

Harry impatiently squeezed more
lotion into his palm and wrapped his fingers around his shaft with a
hiss. “Nngh...please...” he begged, his fantasy fully
taking hold of him now and wiping out all sense of reality.

In his fantasy, Severus was
sitting back in the chair at the edge of the bed, his arms crossing
his chest, fully clothed in those long dark robes—damn him!
Hadn't fantasy Snape just been undressing moments ago? Oh, hell. Now
was not the time for logic!--just watching with this evil little
smirk. 'Touch yourself. Show me what you do to yourself when you
think of me,' he told Harry. Harry couldn't help but oblige. It
was if his limbs were somehow connected to Snape's voice. He stroked
himself eagerly.

“More,
please...” he begged the phantom haunting his imagination.

'Show me what you want, then,
if you're so impatient.'

Harry groaned and rolled onto
his stomach, sticking his ass in the air. He arched his back and
reached around behind himself, biting his lip as he pressed his
middle finger against his tight pucker. “P-please...” he
begged again to the empty room.

'Show me,' the
sultry voice demanded more firmly. 'Show me what you want
me to do to you, Harry.'

Harry plunged his middle finger
abruptly into his entrance. He started thrusting it right away. He
lacked the patience now to tease himself as a lover might. He panted
hoarsely, added the second finger too soon. “Please,” he
whimpered. “Your dick. In here...please...!”

He gasped, sat up on his knees
and arched his back as hard as he could. Just a little more—if
he could only contort himself enough to get his fingers in a little
deeper. “Ah---ahh...please!” he sobbed, and managed to
wiggle a third finger into his hole by leaning backwards and letting
his free hand support his weight. It stung, but he was so wanton that
the pleasure was far more intense than the pain. “Fuck me,
please!” he begged.

In his fantasy, Severus stood,
released his engorged flesh from all those billowing robes. He moved
behind Harry and rammed inside. Harry moaned deeply thrusting his
three fingers eagerly into his entrance. If only he could free up his
other hand somehow...

He bit his lip with a harsh
whimper and laid himself down. His arm was pinned behind him, his
knees bent and toes curling into the covers. His hips thrust in time
with the attentions of his fingers. “Please! Please! Oooh!”

His newly freed hand wrapped
around his shaft and began to jerk it roughly. Close. He was so very
close. He bucked his hips between his hands, sobbing softly in
need...

The door opened unexpectedly.
Harry had forgotten to lock it. Light flooded into the room, but
Harry didn't notice it with his eyes so tightly closed and his lips
opened as he moaned wantonly.

Severus had expected to find
Harry in bed, but not like this. It was late, but Snape couldn't
sleep and so he determined that Harry didn't deserve to either. He'd
got the idea in his mind to terrorize his assistant a bit. He would
demand Harry awaken, pull him from bed, and accuse him of slacking
off. 'Since you don't seem to want to work during the day, then I'll
keep you up all night if that's what it takes to get some work out of
you,' he would say.

That's what he'd thought until
the light spilled over the figure of the young man, half cast in
shadow. None of the important parts were concealed. He could clearly
see the boy's tense, dripping cock, the three fingers Harry had
rammed up his own arse. He certainly seemed to be enjoying being
penetrated. Severus had heard it could be pleasurable, but his
partners to date, apparently, had been doing it very wrong if the way
Harry writhed was any sign.

Suddenly, Harry bucked hard,
semen arching through the shards of light cascading over his flesh
and spattering across his belly. “S-Severus!” He screamed
the name in ecstasy, trailing off into a long, deep, sobbing moan
before collapsing to the mattress, his hands still fixed to their
respective positions until he could get some energy back.

Snape's eyes widened as he
realized the boy had been very deeply involved in a fantasy about
him. His impassive mask momentarily faltered as Harry blearily
opened those intensely green eyes. He nearly laughed when the young
man caught sight of him and realized it wasn't a fantasy staring down
at his spent and sated body, but the man himself, actual and in the
flesh.

Harry knew he should remove his
hands from his nether regions, cover himself in shame, but instead he
froze. He couldn't move. All of him on display like this as Snape
stared at him grimly, Harry was torn between utter distress and
unrelenting arousal.

Snape's gaze lingered on the
young man's sullied body a moment too long. He somehow managed to
maintain his indifferent expression, if only barely. His dark gaze
memorized the sight before him and he was intensely grateful for his
thick, billowing robes as he had never been before. When he found his
voice he said sternly, “While you're busy playing with
yourself, Potter, your work is piling up. I will expect to see you in
my office first thing in the morning, working for a change. If you do
not wish to continue as my assistant, then I would appreciate your
resignation, so that I can begin looking for a replacement.”

He spun on his heel firmly and
left the room. Harry could hear the locking spell seal the door
behind him, so that Harry wouldn't be walked in on again. Why hadn't
he locked it, anyway? 'Maybe because I knew the only person who
might walk in on me without knocking is the one who did,' he
thought dryly.

The memory of Severus'
disapproving gaze roving over his body sent shivers up his spine. And
the man actually wanted him to come back to work? He'd forgiven him?
'No doubt at a steep price,' Harry thought. 'Especially
considering how he found me tonight.' In spite of himself, he
couldn't shake that dark gaze running over his bare, splayed body. It
was making his groin start to bulge again. No, he shouldn't. It would
be highly inappropriate to wank to fantasies of the man who had just
chastised him for wanking. 'Bloody hell, at this point, what
difference does it make?'

He sighed and let his eyes drift
closed, his fingers grazing lightly over his member, already half
erect from the image of those dark eyes boring into him. He wiggled
his arse on the penetrating digits. “Fuck. Severus... you're
going to be the death of me. Mmmn....”

*

Severus slammed the door to his
quarters grumpily, much to the protest of the portraits on the other
side of the wall who had nearly all been quite asleep. He let out a
jagged breath he'd been holding since he left Harry's room. The boy's
body had effectively burned itself into his eyes. The lust in Harry's
gaze, the semen-splattered torso...and those hands, wrapped around
and plunged into the most private regions of his body. And Merlin!,
the way the boy had arched so hard and cried out his name so loudly
with his orgasm!

Severus had never thought much
of sex. He hadn't had all bad encounters, but the good ones
weren't quite good enough to be particularly memorable. Right now
though, Harry's naked body seemed intensely relevant to his
life. He struggled to pull his trousers away from his burgeoning
erection. He wrapped his fingers tightly about it and groaned,
sliding weakly down the door, head falling back as he spread his
thighs and began to stroke the turgid flesh. He knew he'd have a mess
to clean up, but couldn't muster the patience to strip away his
robes. He closed his eyes, opened his mouth, panted and moaned as he
stroked himself eagerly. “Ah. Mmngh...H-Haaa...!”

His thoughts ran away with him:

Harry Potter, thrusting his hips
down against his own fingers eagerly.

Harry Potter, big green eyes
torn between shock and lust as they look up at him.

Harry Potter, moaning like a
wanton whore.

Harry, screaming out his name in
lust as his desire overtakes him.

That last one replayed in his
head over and over until it seemed like a pornographically extended
scene where Harry's prick spewed more and more seed, desecrating his
lithe, young body, as the boy screamed his name over and over again,
begging to be shagged, as if having Snape's cock up his arse were the
only thing that could possibly sate him.

Severus let go of a sharp,
surprised cry and climaxed all over his robes and the carpet. He
panted harshly, already feeling overcome with guilt from pleasuring
himself to thoughts of not only a former student, but Lily's son. It
was shameful. He was sure if it wasn't against any laws, then it
really ought to be. He wouldn't allow it to happen again. If there
was anything he'd learned in life it was that what happened in the
dark was best left in the dark.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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You Don't See Me