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Irrepressible Attraction	By : freakenbree Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 8215 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own harry potter and all characters within this fandom. All rights are reserved to Harry Potter series written by J.K. Rowling. I do not make profits from this fandom.

Chapter List
- 1-Irrepressible Attraction
- 1
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. All rights reserved to J.K. Rowling.

Warnings: Contains homosexual (man/man) sexual content and language

Rated: M (mature)

Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter

Irrepressible Attraction

Written by Brianna West

Harry felt the pin-prickles of the night’s cold hand touching his cheeks. The moon gleamed through trees too high to climb and could probably touch the moon if the fingers of their branches stretched to reach for it. A silence fell over the dark forest unlike that of a typical evening. It was quiet. Too quiet in which warranted a shift of his head first to the right and then just as quickly to the left.

Nothing could be seen in this kind of darkness. He closed his eyes willing his ears to hear what could be the cause of such silence. Nothing again gave him any idea of why the sudden quiet sent chills coursing over his skin prickling his pores.

A flash of dull light came through the trees just ahead, and Harry all but stiffened except for his wand in which flew out ahead of him, ready to fight the figure lurking in the darkness. It was futile though because as soon as it lifted, it was flying from his fingers and darting into the underbrush too far from his reach.

A gasp escaped his lips as he leapt forward in attempts to retrieve it. He was suddenly paralyzed. His body fell hard against the ground, shocking his insides with the sudden impact. He stared motionlessly to the dirt below, willing his body to move. Despite his greatest efforts, he lay on the hard dirt covered with fallen leaves and patches of dead grass, still motionless as the sound of soft footsteps came closer to his body.

“If I had been the Dark Lord or any of his Death Eaters still loyal to him, you would be as good as dead, Potter.” Harry had never felt so much relief to hear his sardonic Potion’s professor. The voice alone caused a sigh of relief as he was released from the spell. He clumsily got his footing and accepted his wand in the outstretched hand of his professor.

“Thank you professor,” he said as he gripped it tightly in his hands and withheld the urge to berate the man for having tested him. “I will try harder to always be ready.”

It was not often that he was so compliant towards the older individual, but tonight he was determined not to argue with his sarcastic and unbelievably rude professor. Dumbledore, now having been dead for a year, was the only reason he held any faith in the man. After knowing of the conversation that had taken place between the two men, he was all too aware of Snape’s loyalty to the deceased man who was much like a father to him.

“Why are we meeting out here?” Harry inquired after he dusted away the dirt that littered his jeans.

“Not that I should have to explain myself to a lesser individual as yourself, but we would not be able to apparate within the school grounds,” Snape said as he turned and headed for Merlin knows where. Harry followed him, tripping over roots that would occasionally stick out from the ground and patches of raised earth. Never once did Snape turn around to check on him, not that it was something Harry would have expected. It was common knowledge that the man loathed him from the bottom of his black heart.

Harry lost his footing and flew forward just barely missing Snape. Large arms wrapped around him saving his body from the hard ground that lay beneath. He breathed out in his relief, but was soon too aware of the arms that he still clung to. His hands pressed against hard muscled abs. This came as a surprise to Harry, having not expected his professor to be anything but skin and bones from the looks of him. The muscle ripped beneath his fingers and layers of heavy clothing as he was jerked upward and made to stand on his feet. His head fell backwards and his glasses shifted, skewing to the right only allowing the left to catch a glimpse of the man’s face. Something indescribable floated in obsidian orbs. What was it?

“Potter, if you stumble over another branch, I will strike you to the ground myself.” Snape said with a hiss.

“Not my fault I can’t see a bloody thing,” Harry said mumbling as he drew away from the man. He felt flushed and hadn’t the slightest clue why. And what was with his heart quickening against his chest? He stubbornly attributed it to the sudden locomotion of his fall.

Snape said nothing and pressed on ahead without waiting for Harry to gather himself. Harry followed again, this time making his best attempt at avoiding branches and roots that would cause him to fall. Whether or not Snape meant what he had said, Harry wasn’t about to give him any reason to follow up on his threat.

They finally reached a large clearing. The trees parted allowing an untainted view at the full moon. The grass hummed against the wind as it shifted to and fro. The crystal clear sky was speckled with stars that shined like diamonds in a river. If it hadn’t been for his professor’s hand suddenly clasping his shoulder, he would have gazed longer to take in the beauty of his surroundings.

Before he could ask the question hanging on his lips of where they were going, he was spinning and tumbling through the vortex the apparition was creating. His feet touched ground, and his stomach leapt into his throat causing him to cough.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” he accused as he leaned forward, hands clasping just above his knees in attempts of regaining his balance.

“I was not bound by anything that would require me to,” Snape said evenly. However, it seemed a smirk twisted the corner of his lips. Was the bastard smirking about this?!

Harry held his tongue for the second time that evening. He stood upright, straightening his back and balling his hands into fists to fight back the retort on his tongue. He suddenly remembered the other question he had meant to ask.

“Where are we?” he asked as he finally began to take in their surroundings. A vast expanse of grass lay out before them only being interrupted by what he could only describe as a cabin. The night was gleaming off the surface of the grass as it shifted in the wind, blowing the leaves on vines that encased the cabin. The small wooden door looked weathered by age and as if another blow of the wind would take it from its hinges.

“This cabin had once been used for purposes unknown to me by Headmaster Dumbledore,” Snape replied as he began to walk towards it. Harry began to follow, surprised that Snape had answered so simply. It wasn’t often that the man would answer his questions simply. Most of what he said was to lay insult on Harry for whatever reason he found necessary at the time.

Harry followed silently as Snape spelled the door open and walked inside the cabin. When he entered behind him, the lights caused him to close his eyes briefly. He struggled to adjust to the sudden light and scrapped his feet on the welcome mat out of habit. Mrs. Weasley often chastised anyone who didn’t since she would have to spell a sweep right behind them. He smiled at the warm memory of them, missing the smells and people that lived in the weathered home much like this one. However, the insides were elegantly decorated with paintings of unknown artists and books that were on ceiling high book cases. The ceilings were surprisingly high, about ten or twelve feet.

Lost in his surroundings, he almost missed his professor’s order. “Potter, stop gawking and follow me to your room.”

“My room?” Harry asked as he obediently followed the man through the side entrance into a long hallway which seemed to go on endlessly until they reached a door that stood directly next to another.

“Yes, you and I will be staying here for your training,” he said without looking at Harry. He opened the door and pulled Harry’s things from his pocket, spelling them to normal size within the room. Harry peered around the corner of the doorway. He couldn’t help the gasp that escaped his lips at the pure size of the room. Like the magic world often proved, nothing is what it seems from the outside. The room looked big enough to fit twenty beds. He walked through the threshold and absently grabbed his suitcase to carry it to the bed at the far side of the room.

The bed was unlike any he had ever seen. The posts towered high above, velvet curtains falling from the tops to be tied off in the middle portion of the posts by a golden rope and a large expanse of mattress covered in a golden comforter that was as soft as it looked. He settled on top of the bed and peered around the room, promising himself he would discover more after a good night’s rest.

He remembered his professor only after the clearing of the man’s throat in his irritation. “Again, Potter, stop gaping at least until I depart.”

Harry watched his professor for a moment as the man moved towards him. His heart began to race within his chest. Why was his heart racing?

“I have the unfortunate duty to train you for your fight with the Dark Lord,” Snape began, eyeing him with his disdain. “We will be remaining in this residence until I have fulfilled that duty. I require only three things: silence, privacy, and obedience. You are to stay within this cabin and never to venture out as it is only protected within these walls. You are not to disturb me unless important within my chambers. You are to train obediently without question. Is this all understood?”

It wasn’t a question. Harry nodded his head knowing that anything else he might want to say would only cause more argument, and he was tired. He had spent all day practicing his thought control. He hadn’t expected to be going anywhere especially not as in staying in a cabin alone with this hateful man. All he wanted to do was curl up underneath that soft comforter and forget the world. He doubted that Snape cared anything about his aching body from his fall.

Snape turned and left the room without another word. Harry sighed in his relief, finally allowing his shoulders to slump forward and his eyes to shut. He’d take a quick shower and soak underneath warm streams to relax his sore muscles.

After he had showered, he pulled on his most comfortable pajamas given to him by Mrs. Weasley last year for Christmas, and crawled into bed. He set his spectacles on the bedside table and allowed his body to sink into the softness of the bed around him. Before he knew it, his mind was sinking into the abyss of sleep.

A voice called out in the distance and a spray of green light flashed around him. The shadows of bodies appeared around him as the green light dimmed and then flashed again in brilliance. A voice called out again, but what it was saying, Harry did not know. He watched as the figures in the distance closed in on him and then another voice called out alongside the other.

“I sssee you, Harry Potter.” Voldemort’s voice hissed as Harry felt a hand come around his throat cutting off his air supply. He struggled against it, feeling the hand clasp tighter still.

“For Merlin’s sake!” Harry heard the recognizable voice of Snape. His eyes jerked open as he was suddenly aware he was being shaken awake by unforgiving hands. “Wake up Potter!”

“Professor?” Harry said as he struggled to gain his bearings. Where was he? Why was Snape in his room? Suddenly he remembered that they had come to this cabin for his training. He sat up as Snape removed his hands and settled on the bedside looking at him with an unreadable expression.

“You were screaming and woke me from my comfortable slumber,” Snape said however lacking much of the usual accusation in his words. It almost sounded as if the man was worried, but Harry knew that Snape could care less about him.

“Sorry about that,” Harry said softly. He wasn’t about to argue since he knew the man was cranky well-rested. He could only imagine how cranky the man might be after being woken from sleep by screaming.

“Do you often scream in the night Potter? Should I prepare a sleeping draught?”

Harry was surprised that Snape offered to make him anything, let alone something that could easily be fixed with a silencing charm.

“Sleeping draughts are ineffective,” Harry began. “Usually, I just put up a silencing charm. I’d forgotten to since I was kind of out of my element tonight. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Snape watched him for a moment. It seemed he was calculating whether or not he should strangle Harry. The silence grew uncomfortable when Snape shifted towards him. Harry was startled when the man reached out and touched calloused fingers to his scar. The touch sent an electric zing straight to his thudding heart. He worried his lower lip as Snape drew his finger across the scar and then pulled it away.

“Do you often bleed from your scar?” he said as he studied the liquid on his fingers.

Harry was too stunned to reply. He could only nod as Snape’s eyes met his. He continued to nibble at his lower lip as Snape seemed to gaze at him again caught in what Harry could only describe as thinking.

“What do you dream of Potter?” Snape did not move from his spot, but merely placed his hand on the bed, his hand radiating heat near Harry’s thigh.

“It depends,” he began as he had to swallow to wet his dry throat. “There are times I see images of things that Voldemort is doing, and other times, I am speaking with him as if he were in the room.”

Snape was watching him, his eyes unmoving from his. It was definitely the most uncomfortable he had ever been around the man. He had never expected Snape to care so much, but then again, his professor was lately fairly unpredictable when it came to their meetings. It had seemed as though Snape was, for a lack of a better word, nicer. Not all of what he said held contempt or disdain much like it had a year ago. His training had started a year ago, but was sporadic as Snape had often acted as a second to Professor McGonagall during the change of Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Finally Snape spoke after what seemed like hours to Harry. “What did you see tonight?”

His words were low and spoken slowly. Harry felt his heart begin to hammer once more as he fidgeted beneath the covers. His throat felt dry as he recalled the hand that had squeezed his throat and the figures within the green light. How could he explain it? What could he say to describe the incredible uneasiness he felt within himself after he felt the life of him slip within that hand that came along with the icy, cold words spoken in hissing?

It was as if he had expressed much of what he saw in his face because Snape seemed to understand just how eerie the dream had been. Snape leaned forward, his fingers brushing against Harry’s thigh, sending another surge of electricity to his heart. His breathing became uneven and jagged as his professor touched his face again this time brushing the pad of his thumb underneath his eye. It wiped away the tear that lay there. When had he started to cry?

Harry breathed in sharply as he licked his painfully dry lips. Snape didn’t remove his thumb but instead cupped Harry’s face within his large hand, eyes boring into Harry’s unflinching. Harry’s heart threatened to explode. He couldn’t think as he watched Snape with wide eyes.

“P-professor?” Harry whispered unable to discern what Snape meant to do.

As if being snapped out of a trace, Snape pulled away abruptly and held his hand to his chest as if he had just gotten burned. He watched Harry incredulously and then stood up just as quickly as his hand had been pulled away. He fled the room without a word, and Harry was left watching the empty space his professor had once been in. What had just happened?

After Snape had left, Harry found it impossible to fall back to sleep. He had put all of his clothing away and kept his books on the top of the bedside table in order to have them near in case of another sleepless night. He found refuge in the written world that often took him away from the chaos of his own. Being the wizarding world’s golden boy was no easy task and often a responsibility he would have gladly given to another. However, it was his nonetheless and would do whatever it took to defeat Voldemort. Even if defeating Voldemort meant staying in a small cabin in the middle of Merlin knows where for months.

When dawn filtered through the four paneled window on the west side of the room, he put his book down and began to dress himself for the day. He walked over to the desk near the window and pulled out some parchment. He quickly scribbled a note to Ron and Hermione that he would send with Hedwig later. He wouldn’t want them to worry when he didn’t show up for any of his classes, and he was sure that Snape had probably not disclosed his departure to them.

He walked out the door of his designated bedroom and down the hallway towards where the front door was. When he entered the entry way, now lit by the morning sunlight that came in through several windows that lined the wall, he was greeted by a small creature that bowed its head and snapped a tray on the coffee table that sat directly in front of the antique 19^th century sofa.

“Oh hello,” he said with a smile at the small, wrinkled creature.

“Cricket is at mister Potter’s service,” the creature said with a low bow. Unlike many that he had seen, this one was clad in formal, well-fitted attire. Dumbledore had always been good to any in his service, including the elves.

“Thank you Cricket,” he said outstretching his hand. “It’s okay to call me Harry. Actually, I’d really like it if you did. I can get my own breakfast, so there is no need for you to do it.”

“Oh no Mister Potter! Cricket is happy to be serving Mister Potter,” he said with a crooked-teeth grin. “Master Dumbledore was very fond of Mister Potter and often told Cricket of Mister Potter.”

Harry found himself laughing, tears threatening to spill at the thought of his old Headmaster. He would often cry at the thought of Dumbledore even though it had been a year since the elderly man’s death. Harry had often felt Dumbledore acted an adoptive grandfather to him, and the very memory of his kindness never faltered to make him smile with tears.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal,” Harry said bending down to be eye level with Cricket. “If you call me Harry, just plain Harry, I’ll let you take care of my meals.”

Cricket smiled and then bowed. “Cricket is happy to serve you Harry.”

Cricket snapped his fingers and was gone with a crack. Harry stood back up and walked the short distance around the sofa to sit down and enjoy his meal. After finishing his biscuits and tea, he gathered it up was surprised when Cricket cracked into the room, took the platter of things, and then was gone with another snap of his fingers.

Harry smiled, his arms still outstretched as if still holding onto the platter of dishes. He settled down on the couch and looked around. He still hadn’t seen Snape and it was a quarter until seven. He knew the man was probably holed up in his room, so he decided to take a stroll about the cabin which was more like a castle within an outside façade of a cabin.

While painting lined the walls, there was surprising quite a few black and white photos feature many people that Harry could not recognize. He gazed at each one as he passed, watching the figures within the photos move often smiling, waving, or laughing as the gathered together to have their photo taken. Harry found himself often smiling as he watched them talk and giggle amongst themselves. He wondered when most of them were taken since half of them featured couples in older fashioned clothing.

Moving into a room that looked much like a loft would, he gazed at the books that filled the shelves lining the walls. At least he wouldn’t be short on reading material during his stay. There were books of all sorts. Fictions, non-fictions, spell books, books about things, and history books. It was of no actual order from what he could tell. He smiled. Dumbledore often didn’t do things that seemed to have a pattern, but always did. Crazy old coot.

“And here I had expected to have to drag you from your room,” a voice as smooth as chocolate said from behind him. Harry turned around quickly, almost gasping at what appeared before him.

Snape had his hair tied back neatly only a few strands of hair cupping his face. His torso was surprisingly clad in an emerald green t-shirt that showed the developed muscle beneath. He was wearing black dress pants that fell over shiny dress shoes. Harry was even more surprised by his response. His heart thudded deep within his chest, and he felt a sort of heat fill his belly and twist his insides. His breathing was jagged as he watched his professor step closer to him.

Memories of the man’s eyes watching him, his fingers brushing his thighs and face, and then the sudden electricity that coursed into him every time they touched were suddenly threatening to buckle his knees and sent him pooling into the floor a pile of shapeless goo.

Snape stopped just short of him, peering down a foot or so taller than Harry. Harry’s lips and throat were dry and so he swallowed, then he licked his lips all the while peering at Snape with inquiry. What was happening to him? If he knew any better, it was as if he was attracted to the man, but that’s impossible! He hated Snape. He loathed every part of the man.

“Are you done staring Potter?” Snape said with something that resembled a smile at the sides of his lips. Was he smiling?

“I wasn’t,” Harry denied weakly turning his gaze away from the man.

“Even I am capable of casual clothes,” Snape said as if reading Harry’s thoughts on his attire. “I do not, despite what the students believe, prefer to wear my potion’s making attire at all times.”

“I guess no one would,” Harry said idly trying to keep his mind away from how he could see Snape’s pectoral muscles, well-defined beneath the snugness of his shirt. He also tried to ignore how the man’s scent wafted over him smelling of soap and a slight musk. He also tried to ignore how close their bodies were and just how easily his had begun to react to the man’s closeness. Bloody hell! He was getting turned on.

Harry stepped away and turned around, his back to Snape. “I should probably go back to my room.”

“We are to begin training,” Snape said his tone slipping back into authority. “We cannot waste anymore time. Follow me.”

He moved passed Harry. Harry followed willing his erection away as they passed through doorways and rooms for minutes before arriving in a room the size of a gymnasium. Weapons of all kinds littered the walls. There was a large mat in which Snape stepped onto that was dead center within the room. He followed, taking the opposite corner and watching Snape with curiosity.

“You’ve dueled before,” Snape started matter-of-factly. “However, today, I will show you how you can make use of your surroundings.”

Time after time, Harry hit the mat floor that had turned into what looked like a forest. Rocks had been thrown at him using magic, and he had done all he could to deflect the attacks. He could feel his bones protest as they quaked underneath his urges to move. His muscles strained as he gathered to his feet again, staring down his opponent.

Snape stood with his wand outstretch and another rock with its grasp. He hurled it towards Harry. Harry levitated several as he dodged it, his body protesting as he threw his attack towards Snape. Snape reflected the rock attack easily. Harry hit the floor once more, his head smacking down and he skidded across the mat sideways.

Dizziness overwhelmed him alongside a queasiness that threatened to make him vomit. He closed his eyes and heard footsteps travel towards him. He couldn’t care less what Snape had to say. It had been over two hours of nonstop attacks, and his body couldn’t take any more of it.

“Get up Potter,” Snape demanded.

“I can’t.” Harry’s chest strained against the constant heaving of his quick breaths. He could feel his insides squirm against the dizziness. If he stood now, he’d surely collapse before he could make any attacks.

He could feel the air around him swirl as Snape knelt beside him. He refused to open his eyes. If he looked at Snape, he would lose all his will to stay on the floor. He knew if he looked at the man now, he’d want to flee or worse. Worse, he’d want to kiss Snape to get rid of this curiosity of feelings that welled up inside him.

“The Dark Lord would not hesitate to kill you Potter,” Snape hissed just above him. He could feel the man’s breath upon his face sending shivers down the length of his spine.

“But you’re not Voldemort,” Harry said stubbornly, his eyes still closed. “And this is supposed to be training!”

Silence followed his shout. He could feel Snape’s eyes on him, and it made him more determined to keep his closed. He feared what expression the man wore. He was scared if he looked now, he’d be killed merely with the man’s eyes.

After nothing was said for minutes, Harry couldn’t help his curiosity and opened his eyes. Snape was above him, his expression was unreadable but something danced in his eyes that made Harry’s heart stutter. The man’s gaze looked lustful.

A cool breeze washed over him. His shirt was settled just beneath his right nipple, but his left was exposed. He finally realized that Snape was not watching his face, but was gazing at his exposed nipple and stomach. Heat bellied within him as his breathing became uneven. Snape hovered above him, watching his stomach and chest rise and fall.

Fingers tickled over his stomach, sending sparks traveling through him and to his surprise, elicited a moan. Snape’s gaze met his as the fingers traveled from just below his belly button up towards his covered right nipple. He held his breath and closed his eyes.

Those fingers were the devil. They sent heat boiling into his trousers as they continued to travel underneath the material of his shirt. He gasped as they touched his sensitive nub and then strayed away, teasing him. He arched and forgot himself underneath the pleasure of Snape’s touch. Merlin knew he wasn’t in his right mind if he was moaning like a girl underneath Snape.

A mouth devoured his own causing him to moan once more as pleasure overtook him. He felt a moist tongue delve into his mouth, eliciting sparks of want to his core. Snape’s lips and tongue felt devilishly good as the mixed with his in a heated battle for dominance. Harry gladly submitted as he was pulled up and hard against Snape’s chest.

His body was situated between Snape’s thighs, on his knees and hands pressed against flexing pectorals. Fingers weaved through his tresses and yanked his head backward exposing his thin neck. Harry gasped sharply as Snape’s mouth sucked the soft, supple skin it found there just above where neck met shoulder and then traveled towards his ear.

“So willing to submit to me,” Snape’s silky voice elicited another moan from Harry. Harry grasped the material of Snape’s shirt in hopes to encourage himself to fight back. When Snape took his ear into his mouth and nibbled on the lobe, Harry lost all willpower to fight and melted into the electric bliss. He wanted to feel more of the man’s touches. He wanted to relish in the pleasure that they brought to him.

“Professor,” Harry gasped out as Snape pushed him to the floor, covering Harry’s body with his own and settling his hips between Harry’s thighs. Harry could feel Snape’s large, hard arousal against his own. He curled up into Snape as waves of pleasure rolled over him with the thrust of Snape’s hips.

Snape pressed against him again and covered his mouth, driving his tongue forcefully into Harry’s. Harry couldn’t think as the tongue rolled with his in madness coupled with the hard pressure rubbing against his erection, driving him closer to his orgasm. He fought to breathe as his body tip-toed on the edge of ecstasy. Snape pulled away leaving Harry breathing erratically and groaning in disappointment. Harry fought his urge to grab at the man forcing him onto him again and merely peered up at him through an aroused haze.

“Please,” he heard himself say wondering how his voice could sound so pitiful. Snape was watching and breathing hard above him.

“If we continue,” Snape said almost hesitantly. “I won’t be able to stop, Potter.”

Harry looked at him as his breathing began to calm. Did Snape actually look like he cared whether or not Harry wanted to continue? Why did his heart hurt when he looked at Snape with that expression?

He couldn’t find his words and for moments, they stayed, breathing unevenly watching each other for any signs of unwillingness. Harry finally drew in a long breath and licked his lips. He closed his eyes and felt heat wash over him as he thought back on Snape’s lips devouring him like a well-aged fire whisky. He could hear Snape breathe out heavily and when he opened his eyes again, Snape was watching him lustfully. It made his heart jump and within seconds, Snape was tearing Harry’s shirt over his head and then his own.

Harry watched hungrily as the muscles of Snape’s torso were exposed. He was absolutely ripped with them. When did the man have time to work out? Harry thought idly. He might have to ask later because Snape was already ridding Harry of his trousers. Harry groaned as Snape’s hand brushed over his erection. He licked his lips once more and gazed at Snape as the man rid himself of his own.

Merlin the man was huge! Harry gawked at the man’s arousal obviously quite larger than his own. Harry would have laughed if anyone said this was something he would be seeing in his lifetime. It was a personal triumph that he would see the elusive Snape’s man parts, but even more so in this type of situation. Of course, no one would be hearing of this.

“Professor,” Harry moaned as the man ran a hand over his erection.

“You’re fairly aroused Potter,” Snape said a smile touching his lips. Harry took a sharp breath as the man’s hand wrapped around the girth of said arousal. Harry bit his lower lip as that hand began to pull him curling his toes with pleasure he’d never felt by his own hands. He wouldn’t last long at this rate.

Before he could lose his courage, he pressed his hand to Snape’s erection, running the pad of his thumb over the tip and spreading the small ball of liquid with it. Snape’s stomach clenched against the touch and his eyes closed within the instant. Harry felt his own erection jump at the sight of the man’s surprise. It felt too enticing to have this little bit of control over Severus Snape, most hated professor at Hogwarts.

Snape’s eyes snapped open and his hand jerked the sensitive flesh it held causing Harry to curl into the touch once more as pleasure spiked through him in waves. He tried to withhold his travel over the edge and ran the pad of his thumb once more over the head of Snape’s erection eliciting another sharp intake of breath by the man above him. Snape pushed into him this time, his eyes challenging Harry’s.

“Anymore of this Potter and I’ll take you without preparing you,” Snape hissed as he rubbed their erections together in a forceful thrust. Harry all but screamed out as waves of ecstasy finally overtook him, and he fell over the edge of his orgasm, spurting his seed between them. Snape’s mouth covered his as he jerked into the waves of pleasure that surged through him. Moaning, Harry returned the kiss weakly.

“Preparing me?” Harry finally gasped out through his heavy breaths. This was his first sexual experience, and up until this week, he had never had feelings like this -- not with Cho and not with Ginny. He certainly never expected that he’d turned out to be gay or that he’d be doing this with Snape.

Snape ran his fingers up between them, coating them in Harry’s liquid passion, and then brought them between his legs at his entrance. He prodded it, rubbing one finger down and back over it. Harry moaned out as Snape’s finger rubbed him again. Snape’s finger then thrust deep inside him, sharp as a knife. He cried out, this time in both surprise and discomfort.

He stared at Snape through wide eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Preparing you Potter,” Snape said almost too easily as his finger continued to delve over and over deep inside him. Snape’s arousal jumped against him as he moaned into the man’s shoulder. The finger was starting to touch places inside him that were like fireworks, sending heat and sparks to travel all over him like an electric current would water. He felt a second finger prod his entrance joining the first to stretch him from within.

“There’s no way I’d be prepared,” Harry said breathlessly as the fingers touched over that place inside again sending shockwaves through him. He could feel Snape tense above him. He opened his eyes to gaze at the man who seemed too lost in sensation to notice his gaze.

Snape’s hair was dangling down towards Harry, sway back and forth as Snape’s fingers continue their excursion. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his muscles clenched also sheathed in a moist layer of sweat. Snape’s jaw was clenched to what looked like painful frustration. He looked beyond sexy; he looked lust inducing. Harry wanted to feel more of him and allowed his fingers to travel over the hard muscle of Snape’s stomach.

Snape’s eyes snapped open watching Harry obviously not having expected him to touch him. Harry spread his legs further and licked his lips as his hand smoothed over the man’s pectorals, marveling at their definition. He felt Snape’s fingers grow within him, adding a third and thrusting them hard into him. He groaned, circling and pressed his hips against them. It felt intoxicating to have them inside.

Snape was watching him as he gasped for air against the pleasure rippling through him like a great earthquake. He wanted to feel more, taste more, and be closer to Snape than anyone he’d ever met. Snape’s gaze seemed to falter as Harry brought a finger into his own mouth and sucked it. He wasn’t thinking. He just wanted to feel something inside his mouth. Snape seemed to be far away from him, so his fingers would have to suffice.

“Bloody hell,” Snape said exasperated.

Harry stopped only for Snape to pull him into a rough kiss. He moaned as Snape’s tongue once more probed into his, thrusting his tongue against the roof and sliding along it. The fingers left him, and he could feel the head of Snape’s large erection pressing against it. Snape’s slick arousal touched and then slid into him, causing him to bite down the tongue inside his mouth. Snape jerked away and thrust inside him hard.

Harry cried out and gasped against the pain that crippled him. He fought back the tears that threatened to spill over. Snape was kissing him again, but this time it was softer, sweeter, and momentarily soothed the pain that burned through him like a fire. Snape’s hand jerked his arousal, again and again, once more causing pleasure to bubble in him.

“I’m going to move,” he felt Snape say against his lips. And then, Snape was moving within him causing another spark of pain to rip through him. He closed his eyes tightly as the hand around him jerked again. “Relax, it’ll be easier soon.”

Harry grunted against Snape’s lips as Snape pushed into him once more, filling more of him this time. He tried to remember how to breathe, and focused his thoughts on that. Snape’s hand curled around him and jerked again, causing him to gasp and pant against the pleasure.

“Merlin,” Harry gasped as Snape thrust in and out of him increasing speed as minutes passed in which felt like hours. Snape’s lips sucked the sensitive skin of his neck, and he could finally feel the pleasure begin to roll through him once more as the sliding of skin became pleasure inducing.

“You are entirely too delectable, Potter.” Severus hissed into Harry’s ears sending a shiver to course through him.

Snape pressed into him hard, sending another jolt, but this time of fireworks much like his fingers had. Harry cried out, moaning out his pleasure.

“There,” Harry said with a sharp gasp.

Snape pressed again into the spot, and then again. Over and over he hit the spot that sent Harry into a frenzy of nerves. Harry could feel his orgasm nearing and gasp to try to recover his breathing. He could hear Snape’s breathing become erratic and soon, Snape was pounding into him relentlessly seeking to go deeper.

Finally, overtaken by orgasm, he felt both of them give way to it. Snape filled him with hot liquid that coated his insides. He spurted his seed once more between them and arching his back against the force. Snape pulled out of him and rolled to the side, his flaccid cock resting on his stomach. Harry couldn’t move as he did his best to slow his erratic breathing.

Silence, aside from the heavy breathing, hung between them. Harry was suddenly too aware of the embarrassment that blossomed within him, heating his cheeks. Something unbelievable just happened. What would it be like between them after this? Did he seriously just have his cherry popped by none other than Severus Snape?!

“Um,” Harry began unable to withstand the silence. “What now?”

“Training is finished. You may leave,” Snape said curtly as he rose, charmed the mess away, and quickly charmed his clothes back on. Harry watched him from the floor, but their eyes never met.

“What?” Harry said in disbelief. “Training is finished…I can leave? Are you bloody kidding me?!”

Harry stood, forgetting his own clothes and stared at Snape with accusing eyes. “You’re a sadistic bastard!”

Snape turned on his heels and his eyes met Harry’s, rage overwhelming their depths. “You will do well to watch your tongue Potter.”

“Or you’ll what?! Strike me down? Why the hell did you do anything with me if you feel nothing for me!” Harry balled his hands into fists, cutting into his palms with his finger nails. “That was my first time, you bastard!”

Snape watched him, his rage seeming to drain from his eyes. “Your first time…”

“Yes, you bloody bastard, my first time! I…I don’t know why I wanted to do this with you….Merlin, I have no idea what kind of spell you put on me, but the bloody thing works!” Harry didn’t really understand what he was trying to say anymore. Rage was consuming him, but for what purpose? Was it the fact that he just gave over his virginity to Snape, or was it because the man had taken it without any emotional attachment to him?

“Why would you assume I put a spell on you?” Snape said as he moved towards Harry, grabbing Harry’s clothes from the floor and shoving them to him.

“Because…I don’t know,” Harry said defeated as he clasped the clothes. He felt tears at the rims of his eyes. What did he want from Snape?

Shaking away the tears, he clothed himself and then walked from the room, not once looking back. One foot after another, he half walked, half ran towards his bedroom. Shutting the door behind him, he pressed his back into it and let the waves of tears engulf him. He slid along the wood of the door to the floor. Tears streamed from his eyes as he tilted his head back and closed them. What did he expect?

A soft knocking jerked Harry from his slumber. He turned his head up to the door that he lay against. When had he fallen asleep? He was against the door with his feet straight out ahead of him and his arms limp against the floor. He clumsily got to his feet and breathed out. The knocking came again, and he grasped the knob of the door and opened it.

Snape stood there, his hair hanging around his face of which had yet another unreadable expression on it. Harry watched him deciding he would not be the first to speak.

“You did not come out for supper,” Snape said as if to inform him of his own actions.

“I’m not hungry,” Harry began to shut the door but Snape stopped it.

“We need to speak Potter,” Snape said eyeing him through the gap in the doorway. Harry sighed and let the door fall open turning to walk inside the room. He didn’t know what to say. He honestly had no idea what he was hoping to hear, but something inside him felt like a tight woven ball that moved every time Snape was near him.

Harry sat on the bed looking up as Snape made his way to him. For a second, it seemed like the older man was nervous, but it quickly passed as the indifferent expression returned to his face. Snape did not sit down, but merely stood a few feet in front of Harry. Silence once again passed through them. The silence was really starting to become a frustration from Harry. If Snape had come in with the intention of talking, then why wasn’t he talking?

“What do we need to talk about?” Harry feigned curiosity though he was sure it was all to do with what happened earlier.

“What transpired between us was a momentary lack of judgment on my part,” Snape began as he stated each word as he would if he were speaking with a student. “I will take responsibility for having allowed it to take place. It will not happen again, and for that, I would ask that you forget that it had.”

Harry could feel the anger heat his cheeks once more as he did all he could to keep his mouth shut. It was earlier all over. Snape thought a simple ‘forget it happened’ was going to somehow solve their situation. Harry closed his eyes and breathed out.

“How many students have you done this with?” He asked as his anger threatened to boil over.

“Pardon,” Snape said looking sincerely taken aback by the question.

“How many others have you had to silence because you ‘momentarily lacked judgment’?” Harry almost yelled, but strained his voice to keep it normal. He hands fisted tighter, once more driving his fingernails into sore wounds.

“If you are accusing me of having done this more than once Potter, then I fear you have entirely mistaken the situation.” Snape said his own voice laced with rage.

“Well it seems like it was fairly easily done, so I’m just asking,” Harry said as he stood from the bed and glared as much of his anger as he could towards his professor.

Snape was before him within a heartbeat, leering over him in a fury that lit his obsidian gaze. “Easily done?”

Before Harry could answer, he was pushed hard into the bed. Snape’s hand laced and held his hair, his neck falling backwards and head crying out in pain as the fingers curled painfully. Snape leered at him, tightening his hold and forcing Harry’s head backwards a little more. Harry swallowed hard as he breathed hard against the pain infiltrating his senses.

“As I see no reason for my explaining this to you, I’ll make it brief,” Snape said hissing his words into Harry’s ear. “You are the first student I have made the unfortunate mistake of laying my hands on. If I could take it back, I would Potter. However, since it is in the past, I will make due by insuring it never occurs again. You will do well not to question me again on this matter. Are we understood?”

Harry felt his chest tighten with fear. The black and whites of Snape’s personality were so extreme in their opposition that he was starting to doubt that Snape was truly Snape yesterday. Had he taken something?

Feeling the question in the air, Harry simply breathed out a simple yes. The man, true to his Death Eater past, was intimidating beyond conviction. Harry could feel the rage simmering from the man like it had body and could be visible if you truly looked hard enough.

Snape relaxed his hold on Harry’s locks which was a relief he audibly acknowledged. After a few breathless moments, Harry regained his bearings only to realize that Snape was still hovering above him. He worried his lower lip. Did Snape not hear him?

“I won’t question you,” he said a bit breathlessly as Snape’s gaze seemed to search him. As if realizing himself, Snape quickly removed himself and nodded. He left the room just as quickly, leaving Harry to sort out new feelings bubbling in his chest.

It was another sleepless night as Harry lay beneath the soft covers. Moonlight poured through the window, lighting a small square of room in the west corner. He watched the night as if expecting something to appear with the darkness, but when nothing did, he turned his gaze away. He watched the wall that connected him to Snape’s quarters. He wondered if the man was sleeping soundly, or maybe, like Harry, he was unable to retire into a dark peace due to other things troubling his mind.

Harry crawled out of bed and walked out of the room. The hallway was dimly lit on the flooring to allow an easy path while walking at night. Harry followed the lights into the entry room and then walked his way, hoping he could navigate the cabin in order to find the kitchen even though he had yet to be in there. His stomach gurgled as he thought about what food he might grab to satisfy his hunger.

The floor boards creaked beneath him interrupting his thoughts momentarily. He stopped and turned to gaze behind him. No one was there. He turned back and jumped back several feet as a dark figure stood before him. He let out a gasp in his alarm.

“Where do you think you are wandering off to in the middle of the night Potter?” Snape drawled as he stepped into a patch of moonlight. His robe was woven around him and his hair tied back like it had earlier in the day. He had obviously not been in his room sleeping, so it answered Harry’s question from earlier.

“You scared the bloody hell out of me!” Harry said exasperated and breathing unevenly.

Snape just looked at him. Again, the silence was infuriating. Harry fidgeted under the man’s gaze. Finally, he sighed.

“I was going to the kitchen to get some food,” Harry divulged to Snape. “I couldn’t sleep so I thought eating something might help.”

“Follow me,” Snape ordered as he took off down the hallway. Harry followed him, assuming the man would take him back to his room proving a point that he should eat when it was offered. However, to his surprise, Snape led him to the kitchen.

“What would you prefer to eat?” Snape asked as he walked over to the refrigerator.

“Uh, its okay professor, I can get it myself.”

“What would you prefer?” Snape repeated his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Could I have a ham sandwich please?” Harry said trying to go for the simplest thing he could come up with. Snape pulled a plate with a sandwich situated on top of it coupled with some baked potato chips. He set it on the countertop and then grabbed another plate from the refrigerator housing a stack of pancakes smothered in butter and syrup. Snape liked sweet things; that was unexpected.

Harry felt a laugh in his throat. Something about watching Snape eat a plate full of pancakes seemed comical. He watched Snape as he settled the plates on the table and sat down with two teacups already filled with what smelt to be chamomile tea.

“I thought you ate,” Harry said idly as he sat down. It felt weird to be talking with Snape so civilly after what happened earlier. No, he took that back. It was weird to speak to Snape civilly period.

“I had not felt the need,” Snape responded dryly.

“Pancake craving?” Harry said biting back the laugh that threatened to spill but being unsuccessful. He saw Snape eye him with his eyebrow raised.

“Something humorous Potter?”

“I just never thought I’d see you eating pancakes,” Harry confessed with a giggle.

“Is there something humorous in my eating pancakes because I fail to comprehend as to the reason?” Snape set his fork down, his gaze still on Harry. Suddenly heat pooled into Harry’s cheeks as he thought through his next response.

“Uh, no” he said feebly. “There’s nothing funny.”

After their interesting back and forth, they ate in silence. Afterwards, Harry took their plates and washed them. It was a habit he developed with the Dursleys. He was always the one to clean or do anything that required actual movement.

“You simply spell those clean,” Snape said as he came over to the sink where Harry was washing.

“I do this all the time, so it’s no big deal.”

“Why not just spell them clean?” Snape inquired.

“Well I do all the chores at the Dursleys they do not like me using magic and demand I do everything without it,” Harry said nonchalantly. It was common knowledge that his extended family hated him (any wizard for that matter), and in order to punish him for being a wizard, he was forced to live in a small room, do every chore listed to him without the use of magic, and take only what little he needed to survive.

“The Dursleys,” Snape said as if saying the name would bring about the memory of them.

“Yeah, they are my aunt and uncle on my mom’s side. They aren’t exactly thrilled I’m a wizard or that I’m living with them when I’m not at Hogwarts,” Harry said as he cleaned the last dish and then started to dry all of them. Snape stood next to him watching him as if astonished he was capable of being clean.

“They do not like wizards?” Snape was more conversational then well, ever. Harry had never had a normal conversation with the man, and up until now, never thought Snape capable of it. However, hoping that somehow their conversation would lead to less insults and arguments in the future, he continued on.

“Aunt Petunia was mom’s sister and hated that she was a witch. I guess it kind of passed onwards from there. They were never happy that Dumbledore left me at their doorstep, so that’s why every chance I’ve gotten to stay away from them, I have.” Harry wiped his hands and turned towards Snape. “I’ll make sure to put up a silencing charm tonight, so you don’t have to worry about being woken up.”

Harry started for his room but a hand clasped his upper arm stopping him mid-step. He turned surprised that Snape would touch him again after he made it clear earlier he wanted nothing more to do with Harry.

“I would like to try a sleeping draught of my own devising,” Snape said as he continued holding his upper arm.

“O-okay,” Harry breathed as Snape finally let go of him.

He followed Snape as the man led him towards his room. Harry stood in the doorway as Snape ventured into it, but stopped and turned to look at Harry. “Follow me.”

Harry stepped inside the dimly lit room. He followed Snape to the far side where a cauldron bubbled and a desk alongside it was cluttered with vials of all sorts of ingredients. He watched as Snape pulled a ladle from the cauldron and poured a small amount of liquid into it. He handed it to Harry motioning for him to drink. He sucked in a breath and swallowed its contents quickly.

Surprising, the concoction tasted of peppermint candies and was nice going down. A warm feeling overwhelmed him, tickling his insides. His eyes grew heavy, and he felt his knees weaken. Snape flew forward as he began to fall towards the ground. He felt weightless.

“Still too strong,” he grumbled as he pulled Harry into his arms and lifted him easily, as if carrying a small pile of papers.

Harry’s head fell backwards as Snape began to carry him to the bed. He couldn’t move his body, but continued to stay conscious as Snape settled him beneath the covers. He was being so gentle. It was beginning to confuse Harry.

“I will need to cut down the amount of each ingredient,” Snape said mostly to himself from above him. “He will need observation tonight.”

Harry listened to Snape’s soft, sultry voice above him enjoying the way it lulled him to sleep. He barely heard himself admit out loud how much he loved the man’s voice before he slipped into unconsciousness.

When Harry came to, he felt warmth surrounding him. Slowly he opened his eyes and noticed that he was definitely not in his room. He sat up looking around him and noticed that potion ingredients desks littered the room. The other portion of the room was stacked with books, quills, and rolled up parchments. Rubbing his eyes of sleep, he climbed out of the large bed and began to head towards the door.

“You have finally woken,” a voice said from behind him. He hadn’t even noticed that Snape was sitting behind the desk of ingredients. A book was in his hands and a quill paused in its task of scribbling notes.

“Y-yeah,” Harry stuttered in his pause towards the door. “How did I end up in your room?”

“Minor amnesia,” Snape said as he rose. “What can you remember?”

“Uh, I remember eating with you in the kitchen and then following you to your room, but that’s it.” Harry took a step backwards as Snape drew closer to him, leaning down to look at him.

“I gave you a sleeping draught,” he said as he checked Harry’s pupils. “You had an immediate reaction in which caused you to collapse into unconsciousness.”

Harry visibly blushed at the thought and felt the question on his lips. “I didn’t say anything. Did I?”

Snape paused in his ministrations and then suddenly, Harry was left gaping. Snape’s lips turned up in what could only be described as the faintest hint of a smile. He left Harry breathless. Despite his earlier beliefs that the man’s smile would be scary as hell, it turned out it was the most breathtakingly gorgeous smile he had ever seen.

“Yes, in fact, you had.”

Harry watched him wearily. He was dumbfounded and unable to imagine what he might have said to cause the emotionless, indifferent Snape to smile. “What did I say?”

Snape seemed to fight back another smile, “You said that you were in love with my voice Potter.”

“Your potion made me say things!” Harry said flushing a deep shade of red. He couldn’t believe he would say such a thing. And what was worse, the hateful potion’s professor was actually teasing him for it.

“I doubt that the potion would create such confessions. If at all, it would have only brought out that of which was beneath the surface,” Snape said with a smirk tainting his lips. “I have changed the strength of the ingredients, so the draught should be fairly mild when you take it this evening.”

“Oh hell no,” Harry said backing away from Snape. “I’ll just put up a silencing charm”

“If the potion works,” Snape said evenly. “You will experience a restful, deeper sleep.”

Harry thought for a moment and then let out a breath of surrender. “I’ll take it. Um, and thanks.”

Snape turned and began to throw in a few ingredients, stirring the potion in slow, steady circles before propping the ladle on the side and turning back to Harry. He seemed to be watching Harry for something, but Harry quickly pushed away all thoughts of the day before.

“Training?” he asked hoping for the ability to take a day off.

“I will meet you there in fifteen minutes,” Snape said as he moved to add another few ingredients to the concoction. Harry sighed and made his way to the room designated for their training. Obviously, Snape could face that room without thinking about what had transpired there.

Walking into the room, he was suddenly struck by chills that crept into his bones. He held his arms as he peered around the room looking for the source of his uneasiness. A soft hissing echoed the large room, and Harry was drawing his wand, outstretched before him. Fifteen minutes. It might be over in fifteen minutes.

Before him stood the source of the chills, and he was now face to face with the creature he had spent much of his day before training to defeat.

“I sssee you, Harry Potter,” the man said as he stepped one foot before the other towards Harry. His snake eyes pierced through him, driving adrenaline to course his veins. A tongue peeked out, smelling the air. “I sssmell your fear, Potter.”

Harry held his breath, and within seconds, he deflected an attack Voldemort sent towards him. A stream of their magic, fighting differentiating lights battled for dominance. A voice came out from behind him and the battle was broken as Voldemort flew backwards. Harry felt the world fly, a vortex throwing his body this way and that. He clung to the body that held him, his heart hammering in his chest.

Ground finally lay beneath his feet. Clinging to the hard body, he let out a cry. Arms tightened around him, holding him ever closer to the hard chest. He buried his face into the shelter of Snape’s shirt. If Snape hadn’t come, he was sure he wouldn’t have made it out of there alive. There was a plan and fighting Voldemort now would mean the end of it before the beginning.

Finally gathering himself, he pulled away and took a look at his surroundings. Ocean beat against the cliff. A soft shh shh echoed through the air accompanied by the smell of sea salt and water. Seagulls flew overhead and called out to the sun setting off in the distance. They must be in another part of the world since it was sunset here when where they had been was dawn.

“Voldemort will not find this place,” Snape said behind him. “However, I will be taking extra precaution with who we divulge this information to. You will no longer be able to owl anyone as it may be intercepted, and Hedwig has been identified as yours.”

Harry merely nodded as he turned towards a small house on the cliff’s edge. It was much smaller than the cabin, and as he followed Snape inside, it was not as large. Snape led him down towards a singular doorway. He was curious as he followed the man in and noticed Snape placed a few items he had grabbed with him down on the desk sitting next to the window.

“Where is my bedroom?” Harry asked looking back through the doorway as if he had missed another door on the way.

“We will be residing together. The Dark Lord was able to break through barriers in which had been placed by Dumbledore himself. I will need you within reach if he were to somehow find us again,” Snape said as he spelled a few items of clothing into the dresser.

“Together…” Harry repeated disbelieving the words being said by Snape even though he had heard them with his own ears.

“Is there a problem Potter?” Snape settled into the desk and jotted a few things on parchment that immediately disappeared.

“N-no,” Harry said as he made his way towards the bed. “Arms reach…”

“Yes,” Snape said indifferently.

“Same room.”

“Again, a very obvious affirmation Potter. You will not leave my sight, is that understood?” Snape looked up at him, and Harry nodded quickly.

“Where will I sleep?” Harry looked around and determined that they could spell the small sofa in the room.

“You will need to be within reaching distance Potter. You and I will share the bed,” Snape said again showing nothing on his face. How could he stay so indifferent after knowing what had transpired yesterday?!

Harry felt his heart begin to quicken in his chest. He did his best to calm himself as he crawled into the bed and turned his body away from Snape. His nerves were still fried, and he was already feeling the drowsiness that occurred after a run in with adrenaline. He closed his eyes and slipped easily into sleep.

Harry’s eyes flew open as he tried to catch his breath. He felt a body close to his, the soft sounds of breathing coming from behind him. After finally gathering his breath, he turned over catching the sleeping face of his professor turned towards his. Harry watched with complete fascination as Snape continued to breathe deeply, indicating a deep sleep. How could he sleep so soundly with someone he hated? Snape obviously thought of him as nothing more than a thing to satisfy bodily urges. Harry shook away his thoughts and curled into the comfort of the bed.

A hard body pressed into his from behind. Harry did all he could to keep his breath even as Snape pulled him in closer. The man’s morning arousal pressed hard into his backside and rubbed slowly against him. Did Snape know what he was doing?

Harry let a breath escape as his own erection reacted to the movement against him. He could feel Snape’s hot breath on the backside of his neck. A hand slid up his stomach, beneath the cover of his shirt, and then rubbed his sensitive nipple.

Harry moaned as the fingers curled and coursed down his front sending sparks of heat to his erection. He pressed back against the thrusting hips, eliciting a low, animalistic groan from his professor. Was he awake?

Before he could ponder it, he was pushed on to his back with Snape hovering above him. The man’s eyes bore into him with such lust it left his mouth gaped open and dry. Snape’s hot flesh settled between his legs. He began to thrust his hips into Harry’s. Harry threw his back his head, groaning with excitement.

Snape’s mouth devoured his in a scorching kiss that left Harry gasping. Their hips moved against each other in rhythm, sparking a need to free them of all clothing. Snape stripped Harry, his mouth never leaving some part of his flesh. Harry moaned as Snape sucked at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. The stimulating touch caused Harry to call out again, widening his legs.

Snape pressed his erection to Harry’s entrance, slick with lubrication and hot with arousal. A deep thrust drove it deep within Harry, causing sensitive flesh to give way to its force. Harry let out another moan as Snape pulled out and then drove to the hilt once more.

The thrusts were relentless. Seeking flesh to flesh contact, Harry pressed himself into the body above his.

“Professor!” he called out as Snape drove hard into him pressing against the spot of nerves. Electricity ran the length of his body as pleasure drove him to the edge. He called out once more as Snape pushed into him once more pressing the sensitive spot and sending Harry hurdling over the edge. His body tightened around Snape as he gave way to his orgasm, shooting his seed to fly between them and coat his stomach.

“Bloody hell,” Snape groaned out as he filled Harry with his hot essence. Harry could only try to gather his breaths as Snape pulled out of him, spelling away the mess they created. Snape lay next to him, breathing heavily much as Harry did. Harry could only focus on his sated body that felt like jello.

“I…” Harry begun, but was interrupted.

“Do not speak,” Snape said weak from his excursions.

Harry felt his body begin to come to, much like his brain was beginning to. He sat up and looked at Snape incredulously. “You started this and you’re telling ME not to talk?!”

Instead of responding, Snape pulled Harry down and into his embrace, silencing any rage that had begun to boil. He gawked as the man held him tightly. “Words are not often my first choice when it comes to expression Potter. I often times am sarcastic, sadistic, and insulting with them. You must trust me when I say that words will not comfort you from my mouth. However…”

Harry was still silent although his heart was not and hammered loudly within his chest.

“When I found you fighting the Dark Lord knowing you not yet ready to defeat him,” Snape said drawing Harry closer still. “I could not think and had to protect you.”

The words touched somewhere deep within Harry. Snape saying anything that would show weakness was enough for anyone to gawk or be speechless. The man never admitted weakness. He was sure that Snape found no weakness within himself. So why? Why say this?

“Professor,” Harry begun, but Snape interrupted once more.

“Harry,” the name spilled from his mouth like the richest chocolate to Harry’s ears. “I am certain we are well past ‘professor’ and ‘Potter’.”

Harry was breathless. “Um, Severus?”

“Yes, Harry.” Snape’s body clenched at his name and gave Harry the impression that it did much the same that Snape saying his name did to him.

“Does this mean what I think it does?” Harry could feel his mouth getting dry again.

“Must you ask what is obvious,” Snape asked with a sigh.

“I think someone needs to,” Harry said with a small smile touching his lips.

Snape pulled away enough to look at Harry. He gazed at him for a moment before pressing his lips against Harry’s for a gentle kiss that said more than any words he could ever utter.

“I love you, Harry Potter.”

The End
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Irrepressible Attraction