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Without Regret	By : divoccae Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1189 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Without Regret
- 1
Without Regret

Category: First Time

Rating: NC17

Warnings: Lots of hot steaminess without the steam.
Homosexual relations. Don't like or too young, stay out!

Summary: Snape ponders the past, and remembers a certain
red-headed man.

Disclaimers: I own no one,
but if I did, those Harry Potter movies would be Severus
Snape movies and definitely not children friendly.

Without Regret


Occasionally during
Gryffindor-Slytherin double sixth year Potions, I wonder if
Weasley has any idea. Does he know that his father used to play
with boys? That he used to fuck Slytherins? That he used to fuck
WITH Slytherins? Does he have any idea how the memories are still
there, how, if I would catch him off guard and alone, his father
would shove me against the wall and kiss me until he couldn�t
breath, and I no longer wanted to?

            I doubt it. Children these days are so deluded
by what they WANT to see, not what they DO see.

            Sometimes I wish that I had caught Potter in my
pensieve later, so that I could see the utter shock and disgust on his face when
he learned that Arthur Weasley was my first kiss, my first everything. I imagine
then I would�ve laughed, perhaps I wouldn�t�ve been so angry � that memory
would�ve been punishment enough for the infamous
Boy-Who-Lived-Longer-Than-Expected.

            I can remember it clearly.
It was a warm autumn
day and I was in the greenhouse over the weekend, picking ingredients for a
potion that I was� not supposed to be making. Arthur Weasley found me there,
under pretense of apologizing for his idiotic Marauders. He was the only
Gryffindor who ever really tried to stop them, and I appreciated it � I still
do. It is rare enough for someone to show me kindness, rarer still that it be a
Gryffindor.

            I wish I could say that I had been expecting
the kiss � in truth, at that time, I didn�t know that I had a sex drive at all.
I had never felt preliminary passion, the obsession of a body rather than a mind
or personality. For this reason, James Potter had several �cracks� at my being a
eunuch, a hermaphrodite, gay, lesbian, and a few other choice words that I would
rather forget. I doubt he ever knew how Arthur knew enough to correct most of
them, though admittedly one or two words were definitely true, no denying them.

            I remember I was the one who started the kiss,
leaning forward quickly, heart racing, unsure of what it was I was doing,
precisely. I didn�t break the kiss until Weasley�s arms pried me away, and he
was gasping for breath. I stood there, uncertain of what to do � had I been
rejected? If so, what was being refused? It was hard for my mind to comprehend,
and so it was a moment before I realized that lips were on my own again, that I
was being kissed. Arms wrapped tightly about me, pulling me close � hands
roaming over my lithe form. A skilled tongue ran over my lips and I tentively
parted them, sighing when our tongues � like swords � began a lazy duel. It was
wonderful, a fiery knot of passion rising from my heart to my head and I knew
for the first time what passion was.

            He lowered me to the Spanish-tiled floor, so
that we were hidden by the large dragon-ferns, and slowly began to unbutton my
outer robe, which fell away easily. I reached up to pull off his sweater, but
he batted away my hands, and began to make work of the shirt beneath. Soon, bare
skin exposed to the moist, warm air of the green house, I lay on my back,
gasping and twitching as the older teen suckled upon my left nipple.

            My fingers of their own accord twisted in fire
red hair, tugging gently upward, forcing our mouths to meet. His strong hands
trailed up my bare skin, pushing my opened clothes off of my shoulders, exposing
more of my skin to the air and his eyes. He growled softly, kissing me with more
force, lips now roaming over my cheeks, my jaw, my neck, until he licked the
outer rim of my ear, and I shuddered with a cry. I had never realized it was
such a sensitive area before.

            As this was happening, I had my little revenge
� fingers having caught the hem of his sweater, I tugged upward, impatiently,
and was relieved as well as content when he let me pull it over his head,
revealing well-sculpted muscles and an even tan. Quidditch obviously had its
perks.

            My fingers quested over his hard skin, brushing
a nipple, trailing lower to tangle in the dark red hair just below the navel. He
moaned, and pulled me off the floor, into his lap, his hardness pressing against
my own. We both yelped at the contact, shivering. I rested my forehead against
his shoulder, hands holding on to him for dear life, his arms wrapped loosely
about my waist, hands roaming. One boldly, slowly, slipped beneath my trousers,
beneath my shorts, caressing the skin between the globes of my arse. I must have
made a noise between a croon and a sigh, arching the way I did, pressing us
closer together. Hands fumbled for the fastenings of my pants, pulling both
pants and drawers down and off, exposing my entire body to him.

            I was hard, deliciously so � I had never
experienced this before. Weasley made reassuring noises as he lowered me to the
ground again, laying me on my robes. Instinctively, I spread my legs wide for
him, watched his eyes trail over my body like the first years� eyes over the
Great Hall for the first time. His strong hands trailed down my shoulders, over
my nipples, down my sides, my hips, my thighs � I was a quivering heap of virgin
by the time he had finished the caress and was shucking off the rest of his
clothes.

            Once he was revealed, only then was I truly
nervous. His size � it was massive, much more so than I had anticipated in our
original caresses. How was my body supposed to accommodate it?

            �Shhh. Tell me if it hurts too much, if you
want to stop,� he whispered, slowly lowering himself between my legs. His
erection brushed over my skin, laying there gently � a comfortable weight � as
his right hand slipped beneath me, searching for the entrance. A finger, slick
with something � what I will probably never know or want to know � circled the
entrance, slowly easing inside. I let out a gasp as it inched in, until it was
inside to the knuckle. It writhed within me for a moment, before Weasley removed
it, and replaced it slowly with two fingers. They scissored inside, opening me,
stretching me, and my nervousness was eased. Perhaps the accommodation wouldn�t
be so difficult.

            The fingers were still moving inside me when
they brushed something, causing me to cry out with the pleasure of it all. Stars
exploded behind my eyes, I felt as though lightning was running from my head to
my toes and everywhere in between.

            Weasley must�ve been satisfied that he found
what he was looking for, for he removed his fingers, and lifted my hips
slightly, pressing the blunt head of his organ to my entrance. My nervousness
revived as he pushed forward, slick with the unknown lubricant. It was a
difficult thing not to cry out � it was the first time I had ever done this, and
I was unsure if this was what it was supposed to be like. Slowly, he pushed
forward, hands holding down my hips � understandable, as I was unsure of my
movements and was both trying to expel and accept the intrusion. A part of me
didn�t want this pain, a small part, granted, but it was there. More of me,
however, enjoyed the pleasure tied with the pain, as well as the irony that it
was a Gryffindor causing it.

            �Gods above� Tight�� Weasley groaned breathily
as he continued. He was about half-way inside me by now, and I myself was
moaning, my arms wrapped about his shoulders, nails digging into the skin. Tears
were streaming down my cheeks, which he licked away. I didn�t ask him to stop �
I didn�t want him to and, even if I had, I�m not sure that he would�ve been able
to. �Hot� Fuck� ARGH!� He thrust the rest of the way in roughly and I shrieked.

            �Ai! Oh�� My breath was coming in little gasps,
unneeded, but there. �Fuck!�

            �Shite, Severus�� he was struggling to stay
still, to not hurt me � that damnable Gryffindor nobility makes them wonderfully
�just� people, but fucking lousy lovers.

            �Fuck me!� I hissed. He obviously wasn�t
convinced. �Damned it, the giant squid would be a better � ah!�

            He attacked my mouth, invading it with his
tongue as he pulled out, leaving the head inside, and thrust back in with
extreme force. Much better. I tried to convey this feeling by sighing softly
into his mouth, and was rewarded again with rough thrusts, this time, catching
the something inside that made my stomach pull off quidditch moves I hadn�t
been aware that I knew, and ripped a shout from me.

            �Fuck..!�

            Weasley�s hand snuck between us, wrapping about
my hardness, which he pumped, roughly, mercilessly, in time with his thrusts.
Again I screamed, and this time, my come erupted with me, shoving my soul at least
fourteen feet above my body. By the time I was back down to earth, Weasley had
spent himself in me, and was laying atop me, shaking from the aftereffects.

            I wrapped my legs about him, even as his
softness slipped from my body, and stroked his hair with my hands gently. He
reached up for a kiss, and I let him have it, let his tongue run cautiously over
my teeth, fighting the urge to bite when he found the excessively sharp canines.
Few enough knew about my �condition�, and while it may not have been my fault, I
had no intention of startling Weasley�s attention to it.


And yet I must wonder, when I see him from time-to-time in Diagon Alley, if he
suspects...


... suspects that, while he was my first, he took, too, the virginity of a young
vampire.
- 1
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Without Regret