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Breaking the Habit	By : KohakuShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 8777 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters, and I still have to work for a living, so I'm clearly not making any money off of this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Breaking the Habit
- 1
A/N: Story is intended as a sequel to 'Little White Lies'. I'm not really sure if it makes sense on its own, but there's probably enough information to follow it – besides, it's mostly PWP, and you're just here to read smut anyway, right? In any case, this entire series is bottom Snape. There are times I feel like I've made Snape a bit ooc for sake of the plot, but I've tried to reconcile his bottom-ness with his Snape-ness, and if sometimes he comes off as a bit emotional – I think it's understandable given the circumstances, but if you don't, just chock any uncharacteristic behavior up to Harry being a sex god. :D
There is one more story in this series, which is already written, and which I will post somewhere towards the end of next week (most likely Thursday or Friday).
Yes, I do have a mailing list. If you're interested, check my profile for details.
Warnings: Anal, oral, insertion, bottom Snape, angst.
Summary: When Harry threatens Severus with an ultimatum, Severus runs away. He isn't permitted to stay in hiding very long.
Story 2 of 'Words Left Unspoken'
Sequel to 'Little White Lies'
Breaking the Habit
There are these little white lies we tell ourselves to vindicate our bad decisions and convince ourselves that we're better people than we actually are. We tell ourselves that we didn't notice things that we actually chose to ignore, that others are arrogant, or selfish, or cruel, but these thoughts are the mirror that reflects our own flaws back at blind eyes. The truth is, everyone is arrogant. Everyone is selfish. Everyone is cruel. In their way. From time to time. Or always. Severus wasn't sure. After a lifetime of lying to himself, it was hard to break the habit. After a lifetime of lying in a more general sense, it was hard to see the truth.
That is why he'd been avoiding Harry since his lover threatened to call him on the years of hatred weighing heavy on his narrow shoulders in spite of the fact that the young man was a phenomenal shag, and...
...and he bloody missed the arrogant little git, quite frankly. He'd not be saying that aloud any time soon; all portraits were bloody gossips and he couldn't trust the admission wouldn't find its way back to the bespectacled young man, who would not hesitate to bring it to Severus's attention that he knew. Severus didn't even know why he had portraits, but that all respectable wizards had at least one. Apparently, if one lacked wall hangings – portraits and tapestries to collect dust and try at one's nerves– they were of a disreputable character. As Severus had done his best, to a fashion, to repair the image he'd mangled during the war, if only for his own safety and to try to avoid any lengthy Ministry trials he might otherwise be submitted to, he had naturally made a modest investment in procuring both. The incessant prattle of the second-hand portraits in the upstairs hall didn't stop his missing Harry, though.
That's what he hated about the boy – how utterly miss-able he was.
No, that's what he loved about him, insufferable brat that he was.
Severus fell back onto the couch with a sigh, draping his arm dramatically over his eyes to block out the infernal sun. He'd been up all night again thinking about it.
“One day, I'm going to ask you why you hate me so much, and when I do, I want an answer that isn't about my parents,” he'd said.
One day. Not today. Nonetheless, Severus felt he couldn't face Harry again without the answer to that question, and so, he'd behaved in a childish, rash manner that he thought was decades behind him and retreated back to the dirty little hovel in Manchester he'd once called home where, he hoped, the resilient little dunderhead wouldn't find him until he was damn well ready.
He wondered if he would really be left his peace. It had only been three days, but it felt like just shy of an eternity. He was a grown man! It was pitiful that a grown man would be so attached to midnight rendezvous that a long weekend should feel like a lifetime! It was even more preposterous that a man of his age should run from a bed-mate young enough to be his own son – a bed-mate who, but for a few tragic twists of fate, nearly could have been.
Severus sighed. He knew that was even more unlikely than Harry desiring him, but as the latter had come to pass, the prior seemed less far-fetched, and anyway, he liked to imagine that, even if only in passing, he'd had a chance with Lily, that he'd blown it, and that he had no one to blame but himself. He had grown so utterly exhausted with the lack of control he had over his own life, that these days he was willing to take credit even for things that couldn't possibly have been his fault – like traffic signals, and the bakery being out of the rolls he favored. As for James Potter, he was dead and gone, and Severus felt he was more than getting his long-awaited revenge on the man by what he'd spent the past several years doing with his son.
Ah, but the son! Harry. Who he hated. And, loved. And, who made Severus fall in love with him. And, who Severus lusted for like a teenage boy with all the tangled hormones that went with it. Harry, who he didn't like to give credit for much intelligent thought if he could help it, but who was right in this: after five years, if Severus was going to continue loathing him when he wasn't naked, then Harry deserved to know the reason. It was an impossible thing to pin down, when Severus wasn't even certain himself.
No matter how many of Harry's personality quirks he ran through, he hated and loved each in equal part. The traits he couldn't quite label in that matter all ended with the phrase 'just like James'. But was he? Really? The more Severus tried to pick through his tangled emotions, the more he felt that they might be trumped up charges that his imagination had decided upon before his brain had the opportunity to catch up. Once the charges had been thus assigned, it was so much easier to believe them true than to question them. It was easier to not care for Harry on a personal level. And yet, even as a boy, he had found a way to ingrain his presence into Severus's heart. He'd blamed that on the parts of him that were 'just like Lily'. It wasn't fair of him, he knew. The parts that were like James, or like Lily, were only misnomers invented by Severus's guarded mind to conceal everything that was purely Harry, because admitting he was a unique individual after so many years of drowning in ancient history and using the boy as a cruel reminder of it to guard his own heart, was frightening.
When Severus got a second chance at life, he swore to himself he wouldn't live it in the past. And yet, he still tied Harry so closely to the past, that it was impossible to escape it. He never thought of James and Lily in the dark of night when he and Harry were entwined. He only fell back on these old excuses when Harry confronted him on his hypocrisy – claiming to live now in the present, but binding them both to events that had happened long ago and had not mattered for many years.
Severus groaned and threw himself off the couch to resume his pacing.
Merlin! He was being ridiculous, but he missed the fool! He missed his stupid little green parchment and gold lettering. He missed pretending he wasn't going to wait up, even though he always did, because Harry couldn't be bothered enough to be on time for a date and time Harry himself had chosen. He hated knowing that he was waiting up, when clearly, he was not the most important thing on the pompous little arsehole's schedule!
“Ah!” Wait a minute, was that...
The door suddenly slammed open. “You crotchety old git, I've –!” Harry started to say, but was cut abruptly short by an uncommon display of emotion on Snape's features.
“You're late,” Severus sneered, advancing at a menacing pace. “You're always late.” He stabbed a finger into Harry's chest. “You run about, doing whatever it is you bloody good-for-nothing aurors do, schedule appointments with me that you bloody well know you'll not be on time for, and make me wait up for you like some prepubescent witch that doesn't know she's been stood up. Then, you stroll in in the middle of the infernal night as if you've done nothing wrong! You wanted to know why I loathe you so much, Potter? That is why! Because you are always late! Because it is exceptionally clear that the only part of me that you spare half a thought for is my arse! We have been playing this ridiculous game for five years, and I am far too old, and far too tired for games! GET OUT! We are finished!”
He was flushed and angry and pushed against Harry's chest to try to get him out of the one place that had never been polluted by the young man's presence – that had no memories of his lips, and his skin, and his voice etched into the walls. As much as he hated this old house for all the memories it did hold, at least it had remained free of Harry.
Until now.
Harry captured the hands against his chest. Severus realized belatedly what a fool he'd just made of himself in his rage – an uncommon and childish mistake that he should have long since grown out of – by the softened gaze that wrinkled the corners of Harry's eyes. “So, that's what it is,” Harry said, and his tone was so warm that Severus couldn't quite figure out what to make of it. “Well,” Harry continued, “I won't deny that sometimes, unexpected overtime gets in the way of our plans, but that's not really why I'm always late.”
Severus felt annoyed that his lover didn't even bother to think up a proper lie to excuse his behavior. He thought to speak out, but Harry clearly had more he wanted to say, and Severus wanted to hear whatever it was, so he had full ammunition on hand with which to rage against him.
“Honestly, usually it's all I can do not to be early. I occupy myself with other things to distract me while I wait, and while I'm at it I talk myself into not going at all. What we're doing, it's insane. I think we both know that. The first time I was really late, I was sure you'd have locked me out, but you hadn't, and you were still fully dressed. You even had your shoes on yet; I don't know why I remember that. Then, I was sort of compelled to do it on purpose, just once, to see if you would continue to wait for me. After that, it just became me sitting there and debating: Should I go? Should I not? We're probably no good for each other. If we were a good match, we'd likely understand each other a little better. But, in the end, I always show up, and you always let me in. You're as much to blame as I am, really, for putting up with it. There's a part of me that's always wanted you to tell me that it's over. I thought it would be a relief to hear you say it. Now that you have, I don't want you to, and I don't think you mean it.”
“Of course I...” Severus started, but Harry clutched the hands against his chest all the tighter.
“Sev, doesn't this feel more like a beginning than an end?”
Severus was floored by the frankness of it, even though it had always been the Gryffindor habit to be blunt about matters. And Harry's eyes were so clear and earnest that he looked more naked than he ever had without his clothes. In spite of himself, Severus couldn't help but find it enticing to see Harry's emotions laid so bare. Between them, feelings were always covered up. That boundary had been overwhelmed at the gates and was starting to give; that's what brought them to this. Severus's heart pounded in his chest. He was not accustomed to taking unnecessary chances, least of all with his heart, but he felt if he didn't do so now, he wouldn't get another chance, and he would regret it, as he regretted the mistakes he'd made with Harry's mother.
“I wonder if you even know what you are encouraging,” Severus replied, buying himself time with the phrase to find a way to express himself that he could easily back out of if it didn't go well.
The pause also gave Harry opportunity though, and as Severus worried over saying the wrong thing, his young lover curled his arms around him. Severus didn't deny him. He tilted his head passively when he felt Harry's nose brushing against his throat, knowing lips would follow, and sighed.
“Don't,” Harry responded to the sigh. “This is how we're supposed to be, Severus. Gentler. Even the regrets and sadness, that's part of us too, both as individuals, and together. Somehow, one day, I thought of that, even though that kind of deep thought isn't really like me, and it made everything else alright.”
“Idiot boy,” Severus responded out of habit, but he let his arms curl around the irreverent hero. He knew the Wizarding World would be horrified to know whose bedchamber he used as a retreat from that title. “I am too weak when it comes to you.”
“I'm hard to say no to,” Harry quipped, lifting his chin to grin up at the older man.
“It is quite a predicament,” Severus answered, fighting down the desire to offer Harry a faint upward turn of the lips in kind.
“It doesn't have to be,” Harry said, tucking inky hair back away from hollow cheeks. “Just stop trying.”
The words made him shiver. Or, that could have been the way Harry's lips ghosted across his jaw. It was hard to tell when the young man held him so close.
“It's alright,” Harry purred against the curve of his mandible. “I don't expect you to admit to anything. I know how important your pride is to you.”
That, more than anything, wrenched at Severus's heart. He must. He really must say it. He should have said it to the mother, and that he didn't led to disaster. To now make the same mistake with the son, when he knew well what vanities such as pride amounted to, would be a dismal thing. He finally understood properly he was not chasing the ghost of Lily in Harry, but that the two shared certain personality quirks that he found both intensely frustrating and endlessly endearing at once. It was sheer chance that they were related, or perhaps, Harry developed that same stubbornness and strength for having to live with the same horrid muggle wench his mother had to endure as a child. The how was a trivial matter; to be honest with himself at last, this personality that so enticed Severus would have done the same regardless of the form, figure, or bloodline attached to it, and he had been a fool not to know that until now. Of course, he did favor those lovely green eyes, but he would adore Harry all the same without that little vanity. It was because he was certain he would love Harry just the same with other eyes, another face, that he couldn't afford pride now.
When he got a second chance at life, Severus had sworn to himself that he would change; to cling to pride now would prove him a man chained yet to the past, unable to break old habits even in such times that it was dire he must do so!
“If I am reticent, it is because I know that one makes many mistakes in one's youth, and I would not care to find myself on the list of yours.” He hedged, still biding for time even now. “You still have your entire life ahead of you but I...”
“Severus...” Harry started half a smirk, but Severus stopped him, pulling away from the embrace. He needed the space out of Harry's arms to properly form his thoughts.
“Let me finish,” Severus said firmly. “Sit down.” He gestured vaguely at a small threadbare couch. Harry gave him a placating smile and obediently lowered himself to it. The cushion was worn, and Severus watched him shift to a position where the nearly bare spring didn't poke at him too roughly.
“You may not want to think about such matters, Harry, but it is because you do not, that I must. You are a young man, and while you are satisfied for now to engage in rather unscrupulous acts with me, the day will likely come that you will want more than a lover; you will want a family. I cannot give that to you. There may be manners in which it is possible, but I refuse. It is something I do not want. The thought of sharing you, even with a child, is more than I can bear.” He had to look away at the shameful admission.
“Severus, come here,” Harry said, patting the couch beside him. It squeaked when he moved.
“I don't want to,” Severus answered childishly.
“Yes you do,” Harry chuckled. “Stop being stubborn.”
Severus relented, lowering himself to the couch awkwardly. Harry pulled him close against his chest. “I can't promise you that day won't ever come, that I'll want something else. People change all the time. I can't imagine changing so much that I wouldn't want you with me, but there are so many endless possibilities in the world, and I am utterly through with destiny.”
Severus exhaled with a faint smirk against Harry's shoulder, adjusting his long legs up onto the couch to make their position a bit less uncomfortable. “I can't say I blame you for that.” Harry had been run through by destiny. He couldn't blame the young man for wanting to carve his own path from here.
“And you can't promise me that you'll never get sick of dealing with a selfish brat like me, either,” Harry reminded him.
“I'm sick of it already,” Severus countered.
Harry laughed. “No you're not, but nice try. My point is, things change. People change. I can't promise forever, because even tomorrow is too far away. What I can offer you is all of the things that I feel right now. I don't want anything more out of life than us, and for us to be more than two blokes who shag like rabbits while pretending we're not in love, because admitting it means we're vulnerable. And, right now, I'm happy. I'm happy that you don't want to share me. I don't want to be shared.”
Harry paused, as if he might say more, but instead he cursed under his breath. “This couch is a horror,” he complained. “Give me a moment.” He shuffled and adjusted beside Severus until he was leaning back against the arm, with one pillow behind his back, and the one from the other end of the couch under his arse, protecting it from the squeaky spring from hell. Once he found a good position, he pulled Severus back against his chest, resting his head against his shoulder.
Severus settled quietly so, back to chest between Harry's thighs, long legs bent with his toes braced against the opposing arm. It hardly seemed like it should be a comfortable position, but it was, resting back against Harry. “I don't spend much time here. There never seemed a reason to replace it.”
“I'll buy you a new one,” Harry answered, kissing the top of his lover's head. “A bigger one that better suits your height, and wider, so we can sit together more comfortably.”
“There's no need.”
“I think there's good reason, though,” Harry said. “This town is all but abandoned. If we patch the house up a bit, it would be a nice place to spend a holiday when we want to get away from the world for a while, don't you think?”
Severus had never considered it. He understood the logic, now. All the same... “I don't want to,” he answered, even though he knew it was a bit childish. “I have no good memories of this house. We can purchase a cottage somewhere instead.”
“No good memories, huh?” Harry pursed his lips. “Me professing my undying love and devotion doesn't count as a good memory, then?”
Severus barked out a laugh. “And when, pray tell, did you do that?”
“I was getting around to it,” Harry answered.
“Were you, now? In this lifetime, or the next?”
Harry smiled against the top of his head. “Even the next lifetime would be faster than you'll get around to it.”
“Hn. Maybe in the next lifetime you'll be taller,” Severus quipped.
“Maybe in the next lifetime, you'll be fat,” Harry retorted.
“Perish the thought.”
“Maybe in the next lifetime, you'll smile more,” Harry prodded instead.
Severus was silent for a few moments, “I suppose that wouldn't be such a bad thing.”
“As long as you're still mine in the next life, I can't say as I mind, whether or not you're fat, or how much you smile. You can be grossly obese with horrible acne and breath that always smells like garlic, as long as you still cry out my name when you...”
“HARRY!” Severus declared. “Honestly! You only think about sex.”
“Because it's when you're the most honest with me,” Harry countered quickly, tilting his head so he could kiss his lover's brow, then his temple. By the time he got to the older man's cheekbone, he'd already unfastened the top several buttons of Snape's robes and untied the lacing at the front of the tunic he wore beneath it to slip his hand inside.
Severus exhaled. He could already feel his spine turning to porridge under Harry's lazy caress. It was so different. He was sure this slow pace would gradually drive him mad, but for now it was entirely pleasant – touch for the sake of touch. He tilted his chin upward to give Harry the angle necessary to claim his lips.
Harry took the cue, and the kiss was just as languid as the caress. Severus could feel his lover smiling against his lips. “I love you madly,” Harry whispered against his mouth.
“Harry...”
“Shh.” Harry pulled back a bit to put his finger to Severus's lips. “You don't have to say it; I know it's not in your nature to talk about your feelings, and I know you would never let me touch you like this if you didn't feel the same way.”
Severus opened his mouth. He wanted to say something, anything, but under the strain of such emotion, words failed him.
“I just thought one of us should say it properly so we can't make excuses tomorrow, and end up right back where we started,” Harry continued when Severus didn't say anything. He also continued unbuttoning the older man's robes. Severus soon found himself sitting up to shrug out of the heavy outer garment, and shuddered when Harry slid his hands under the hem of the thin tunic and dragged his nails up either side of Snape's spine as he lifted that away as well before pulling Severus back to rest against him again.
Again, Severus tried to find words, but Harry swallowed them with his lips before he even had the chance to struggle with them. Harry was right – speaking of such personal matters as the workings of his own heart did not come naturally to him. Surely, there must be some way he could demonstrate his feelings without the need to say anything.
He was trying to focus on the matter, but Harry's lips against his own made it rather difficult to concentrate. Harry's hands didn't help the situation. They now dragged across bare skin, which was really far more sensitive to touch that Severus cared to admit to. His groin was already quite interested in the present course of events, which was rather untoward, considering he was attempting to have a serious conversation with his beloved.
“Mn. A-aahh...” Severus moaned into Harry's mouth as the young man used his fingers to tell him quite clearly that he needn't make such a fuss over what to say or not say by pinching his nipples. “Harry...” he rasped. His body was far too responsive for his peace of mind! They'd been engaging regularly in such behavior for years now. By all rights, he should have become desensitized with time, but he was just as sensitive to Harry's touch as he had always been.
Harry knew precisely how to set him on fire.
Harry moved from Snape's lips to the crook of his neck. “Mmn?”
Ah, but there was no sentence to share! Only the name. It bore repeating, in any case. “Hh—Harrryyy...” Severus moaned at a particularly well-timed twist of the taut buds. If his groin was curious before, it was entirely interested now. It never took much.
He could feel Harry's smile against his throat now, and when Harry dragged his teeth across the tender flesh, biting lightly, it tore another helpless moan out of Severus. He hardly noticed Harry's fingers ghosting down his torso until his fly was opened and his organ freed from the confines of his trousers only to be captured in the more agreeable confines Harry's fingers had to offer.
“H-Hahh—Haaaryy!” Severus rasped. This wouldn't do! This wouldn't do at all! He was already drowning in same role as he always had – utterly enslaved by his body and the weight of Harry's desire for him. That was all wrong! Tonight should be different! It had to be! He had to show Harry that...
Harry's hand squeezed and stroked his groin. His tongue idling over Severus's earlobe. “H-hhah! Yesss!”
What had he been thinking about just now? Harry. Right. He had to show Harry that he loved him, if it was too awkward a thing to say. If his body was more honest than his face and far more honest than his traitorous tongue, then he had to find some way to use his body to tell Harry how he felt. It was so difficult to think clearly when his lover was manipulating him with such ease, though. Surely, there were lines he had drawn in the sand that could be washed away tonight. He knew they were there, but his mind was spinning and his body already overheating. A simple hand job is all it was and a few stray kisses, but he could already feel himself being swept away into that blissful place that Harry always took him: where vanity and pride, and even his own identity, were washed away. He wondered if he had ever given that to Harry. He wondered how to.
'Oh.' “Ooohh...H-harry! St-stop...”
Harry chuckled against his lover's jaw. “Why? You're enjoying it so much.”
Severus grit his teeth against the ripple of pleasure racing up his spine, threatening to overcome him. He knew once he was overcome, any ideas he might have had to show Harry what he was feeling would evaporate and he would become malleable under Harry's whims as he always did. “Rather too much than I would prefer for the moment,” he choked out in reply. “Please.” Oh, how he hated that word. No matter how it was enunciated, it always sounded like begging.
Harry relented, but not without sliding his hands up slowly over the flat planes of the older man's torso. Severus shuddered, and melted momentarily when Harry reached further up to push back his hair and caress his face.
Severus willed some of his usual calm into his expression. Under the current circumstances, it was no easy task.
“What are you thinking about?” Harry purred against the top of his head.
“Something new,” Severus replied, willing himself to rise to his feet in spite of his lust-weakened knees. “Sit on the other end of the couch. It is not as badly worn.”
Harry looked at him questioningly, but obliged as Severus shed his remaining clothing. It was only in the way. His cock twitched at the way Harry watched him. He knew it was only lust, surely – and perhaps a spare bit of love that colored Harry's view of him – but all the same, Harry's ravenous gaze made him feel beautiful.
“After five years, what's left?” Harry mused as Severus leaned over him.
Sevuers kissed him, and made short work of ridding Harry of his t-shirt. “Me,” he replied. “Taking some initiative.” He kissed Harry's throat as he worked on unfastening his jeans, and could feel Harry's pulse flutter beneath his lips.
“That is new,” Harry breathed, curling his fingers into the older man's hair. “All this time I thought you liked how I tease you.”
“I do,” Severus conceded, and it was love, not lust, that made him admit to that. “However, until now, I have only selfishly accepted your attention. It will not do, if we are to admit we are more than lovers, for me to continue to accept your generosity in such a self-serving manner. It isn't fair to you.”
Harry laughed, even as he lifted his hips to let Severus pull his trousers down from them and cast them aside. “I'm not sure it's all that unfair when I get as much enjoyment out of it as you do,” he replied.
“All the same, I want to do something for you tonight,” Severus answered. Harry's pants were quick to follow his trousers.
Severus was certain he looked more calm than he felt. He was far too old to be so inexperienced in these manners; it was humiliating. Part of him wanted nothing more than to retreat – lock himself in the other room for a week until he had planned out every gesture, and then return. He knew how impractical that impulse was, but he was also not naturally prone to spontaneity. He knew what he should do in a vague sort of manner, but the smaller details threatened to overwhelm him with the sheer number of ways in which they could go wrong.
He thought he seemed calm, but he must have delayed too long, because Harry noticed.
“You know this isn't necessary,” Harry said. “We don't have to do anything differently.”
“Don't be a fool. After five years, I can at least do this much. You've done it so many times, and I've never reciprocated. That has to change, if our relationship is going to.”
Harry's breath hitched when Severus finally lowered himself to his knees between the younger man's thighs. Severus wondered if he should warn Harry that this was new for him, but he supposed that was already painfully apparent. He curled his long fingers around the organ and tried not to melt too completely when Harry reached out to gently tuck his hair behind his ear.
“I know how important fairness is to you,” Harry breathed. He'd never been good at hiding his feelings. Severus knew he would never force anything on him, but he also knew the prospect excited his young lover. Any other lover would have done this for Harry long ago, but Severus had been so determined to believe that Harry's feelings for him amounted to very little that he told himself it really didn't matter.
It mattered. It mattered because Harry had positioned himself just so several times, and even then Severus couldn't bring himself to believe that Harry cared for him out of some twisted fear that rose out of being spurned in the past. He had to put that behind him, he knew. It was only Harry's stubborn streak and obsessive personality that had kept Severus's bad habits from ruining their relationship already. So, he bit back his apprehension, cursed his nervous energy, told his throbbing erection it was simply going to have to wait its turn, and lowered his mouth over Harry's organ. Surely, it couldn't be such a difficult thing. He only had to emulate what Harry had done to him in the past. Oh! If only he had had the presence of mind to pay closer attention! Still, a bit of sense should see him through it! It involved sucking and licking – of this much he was quite certain.
Harry's grip in his hair tightened a bit at the initial contact. It didn't hurt, but its presence was hard to ignore. He made efforts to emulate his lover, but found Harry made certain things appear far simpler than they were. For example, Severus nearly choked when he tried to take the fullness of Harry's flesh into his throat. Harry managed thus with his own quite easily! He hoped Harry hadn't noticed the clumsiness, but no sooner had he thought that, than the grip in his hair softened to a caress. “Severus, as much as I appreciate it, you don't need to force yourself. You're too tense.”
Too tense. So, that was it. Tension was such a natural part of his existence, and had been for so long that it came more naturally to him than relaxation. This was a skill that diligence and dedication alone could not master; that was his least favorite sort of skill. But, now he understood very well how many signs he'd missed that Harry had offered him. It appeared this was a matter one needed to properly put their heart into. He pulled back a moment. He could repair this disaster, he was certain! But he needed to start from the beginning. “Harry, I...” Never knew.
“You've never done it before, right?” Harry said with a complex expression of gentle amusement paired with intense lust . “It's fine, Sev. Really. It's all the more exciting, knowing that. Just take your time, if you're that determined to do it. I was a clumsy oaf my first time at it. Even you can't be good at everything right from the start.”
Severus knit his brow as he looked up at Harry, the organ trapped lightly between his fingers. “I don't recall you ever being unskilled at such matters.”
Harry blushed, “ah, well, yeah, I practiced a bit before I tried it on you.”
Severus felt a pang of jealousy. Of course, a teenage boy, and such a popular one, would have had several conquests.
“Don't sulk,” Harry said. “I was so nervous that if I screwed it up you'd kick me out, I had to make sure I had it right before I tried it on you.”
“You needn't defend yourself. We were merely sleeping together. I am certain you've had many other lovers.” He hated himself for saying that. It made him sound as jealous as he felt.
“Of course I didn't!” Harry declared passionately. “Merlin, Sev! Don't you know I've wanted you since before I knew what wanting was? I won't pretend I haven't messed around a bit with other blokes, but I was a stupid teenager once, trying to deny that I had feelings for a man twice my age who clearly hated me.” It was Harry's turn to complain. “Once I had you, that mostly stopped, save a bit towards the end.”
Towards the end. Severus quirked a brow.
“Don't give me that look,” Harry complained. “Towards the end of school, I mean. You went out of your way to make me think you'd been with the Death Eaters all along. You must know now how upsetting that was. I felt betrayed and more than a little depressed. I took comfort where I could get it.”
Severus wanted to blame him, but he couldn't. He was silent for a bit, wondering how a botched blow job turned into such a serious conversation. “Those were trying times for everyone.”
“Yeah,” Harry said slowly. “Most trying for you, I think.”
“That is a point we could argue until summer turns to winter and back again,” Severus answered. “There's no point to it.”
“I guess so,” Harry replied. “Never mind the blow job, huh? You can practice all you want later. Get up here.” He offered Snape his warmest grin to try to convince him.
It wasn't much of a chore. He was determined to do this right for Harry, but they'd rather murdered the atmosphere for it. There was still plenty he could do for his lover's arousal that he was not so inexperienced in. He lifted himself and obeyed Harry's wish by straddling his hips and pressing in close, lowering his hands to drape around the young man's shoulders.
Harry moaned when their cocks pressed together between them.
Severus rocked his hips forward to create a slide of hot flesh between their bodies. “Is this what you had in mind?” he purred in his beloved's ear.
Harry's hands gripped his hips, and the organ that had lost a bit of its firmness to the serious conversation regained it quickly. “Not exactly, but I like your idea better,” Harry forced out before another soft moan could escape.
He pulled Snape's face down to his own for a greedy kiss. “You're uncommonly frisky tonight,” he teased.
“I already told you why,” Severus replied against his lips.
“Mmn, you feel guilty for being so passive.” Harry smiled into another kiss. “You know I don't mind, right? You always let me have my way. It's made me spoiled, but I like it.”
Severus hissed when he felt a greased digit slide over his hip and down the cleft of his arse. The direction they were heading now was the one he was planning on from the start, but it always surprised him how skillfully Harry distracted him. When had Harry grabbed his wand? When had he cast the spell? Severus was too engaged in kissing and talking and their cocks sliding against one another, sending ripples of pleasure up his spine, to notice.
“I know,” Severus answered calmly even as his body felt aflame and he gripped the back of the couch at the first sign of penetration, a fingertip, prodding, followed by the tip of a wand that Harry slid into him deeper than he needed to for the cleansing incantation. “Ah! O-oohh!” Far deeper than he needed to. Severus felt his head spin. It was filthy. It was a highly inappropriate use for a wand. “H-aaahh...” Buried to the hilt, vibrating with the magical energy required to cleanse and stretch his entrance in preparation for something far thicker. The tip only – the barest tip pressed against the pucker was really all that was necessary, but Harry buried it deep, wiggled the handle, fucked him with it. It was indecent, and absolutely blissfully wonderful! He tried to speak again, but coherent thought was beginning to leave him already. “I know,” he repeated with a shudder, as if he didn't realize he'd already said it. He lost his breath momentarily, and had to resort to starting over. “I know, but all the same...I...for pity's sake, Harry! Aah!” That was his prostate the wand tip was jabbing. The moan that tore from Severus was so intense his entire body shook.
“You want me to have mercy already? We've only just begun.”
Huh? What? Severus tried to force thought back into his mind. Harry pulled the wand away from the tender spot to give him a moment's reprieve. “If you don't, this won't last very long,” Severus rasped.
“Of course it will,” Harry laughed. “You always say you're too old to have stamina to match mine, but you always come as many times as I want you to.”
Severus flushed. During intercourse, even he had a hard time concealing his emotions. He was sure that is the reason Harry was so infatuated with foreplay.
“Anyway, you were trying to say something,” Harry said.
Was he? Oh yes. Now he remembered, now that the spell was slowing it's maddening cycle inside of his body. “I know you enjoy teasing me,” Severus began again. “But...”
He was cut off by Harry prodding his prostate a little roughly with that wand again. His entire body quivered as he clung to Harry's shoulders. He couldn't take much more of this treatment, surely! He was going to end up bruised on the inside! “A-aahh..! H-harry!”
“What was it you were saying?” Harry teased. Oh, the little bastard!
Severus opened his mouth and tried, but what came out was only another moan as the wand tip was pressed and twisted against his prostate. Gentle enough not to harm, firm enough that it was impossible to ignore. “A-aahhmmm...nngh...h-haaahhh...Harryyy....!”
“Yes?” Harry questioned. “But?” Jab. Twist.
Severus was too busy trying to get air back in his lungs to hold onto the threads of conversation. Finally, Harry gave him reprieve, removed the wand and placed it aside. Severus spent several moments just breathing.
“But...?” Harry prodded, nuzzling into his collar to drag lips and tongue along the bone.
“...I don't recall,” Severus relented.
Harry smiled against his skin and pulled back, pushed Snape's long hair away from his sharp features again and, cupping his face between his hands kissed him tenderly. When the kiss ended, the hands remained to keep ink black eyes locked on him, Severus supposed.
“That's the way it should be,” Harry said. “When you can't think properly is the only time I can be sure you're having fun.”
“Dunderhead,” Severus chided.
The word made Harry grin. It was his favorite insult – the one that spewed from his lover's lips instinctively when he finally gave up trying to maintain the careful guard on his thoughts and features. “You love me anyway,” Harry laughed.
“Against all reason,” Severus agreed. The surprise on Harry's features told him that Harry hadn't actually expected him to respond, and in his way, he'd just admitted it, even if he hadn't specifically said the three traditional words. As he sat there, indecently straddled over Harry's lap, he wondered why he made such a fuss over this admission. How long had they waited to simply talk like this? Perhaps the day would soon come where they could enjoy the conversation without the sex. The sex was brilliant, mind, and he'd be hard-pressed at this stage to go without it, but he knew a relationship wasn't built on sweat and seed alone. Something more significant had to be planted if it was to last. Now, he remembered what he was trying to say, 'but I also want to please you.' He didn't say it now. There was no point. Instead, he kissed Harry, softly again, those tender kisses that were new between them and, for their novelty, indescribably enchanting. He shifted his hips, adjusted his knees, arched his back a bit and reached behind him.
The lust in Harry's eyes told him the young man knew what he was after and that he wholly approved. They had enjoyed several positions over the years, usually several different ones a night, but seldom this one – where Severus had to do the work. He realized it was a position they'd enjoyed far more frequently in recent months, and wondered if that was another sign he should have picked up on that had eluded his notice, but now wasn't the time for a deep analysis of his emotional failings. He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow, concentrating as he started to lower himself. Harry's head breached, and Severus shuddered.
After all the play and banter, even just that was bliss. Slowly, he lowered himself. He could feel Harry's fingertips digging into his hips as the young man tried very hard not to move. Severus understood. He was going far more slowly than was their habit. Harry normally slammed in – which Severus loved; he imagined that was most likely why Harry did it. This slow breaching was delicious torture for both of them. By the time he was wrapped fully around his lover, they were both panting. It was nice to see that even Harry could wear such a dizzied expression. Seated thus, to the hilt, he gripped tighter to the back of the battered couch and rocked his hips experimentally. Harry's cock brushed against his bruised prostate and shot sparks through straight to his extremities. His toes went momentarily numb from the pleasure. So tender inside. Merlin! That felt amazing.
Severus barely registered Harry's answering moan. He tentatively tried to rock in just the same way again, and cried out again as the pleasure rocked his entire body to the core.
“Sev!”
That cry, Severus noticed. He forced himself to look down, to remember why he was determined to do it this way. It was to pleasure Harry. He had to focus! He couldn't become carried away by his own bliss at a time like this!
Harry's chest rose and fell heavily with each breath. His hands, Severus realized, had moved from his hips to the softer globes of his rump.
They sat frozen for a while, just breathing, watching each other with intimate intensity, before Harry broke the gaze by pulling Severus down to him for a kiss far more passionate and energized. “Don't worry about me,” Harry rasped against his mouth. “If you keep that up I'm not going to last long.” He squeezed Severus's bottom and wrapped his other arm around the man's back pulling him in close to share several more of those long, dizzying kisses. “Merlin, if you had any idea how bloody sexy you are, I'd be in trouble.”
The words made Severus shiver. Sexy? Him? Surely not! Still, Harry certainly seemed to think so, and that was more than sufficient to give him added confidence. He sucked in his lower lip and concentrated on pulling his hips in and up, then pressing back and down. His own breath hitched, but he didn't miss the way Harry's grip tightened on his body or the way the younger man's breath shuddered against his throat.
Why had they not done this more often? When he had to be the one to bring them through the pleasure, it was easier to focus, and to see the evidence of Harry's excitement. He wanted to see more of that. 'I was a fool to think I would be giving away emotions that he was clearly already very aware of.'
It was the last coherent thought Severus had, and Harry halted his pursuit of the train of it with his lips, which latched onto a conveniently located nipple and threatened not to release it. Teeth came next, as Severus rocked his hips in a thoughtless rhythm that blinded him with both precision and urgency in response. Biting, oh, how it thrilled him to feel Harry's teeth on his skin; he could so easily hurt Severus, but Severus trusted him not to, and that trust was so much of the allure. He gripped at the lumpy cushion behind Harry's head as he rode him, moaning senselessly, into oblivion.
Familiar heat seared through him, and it was only after he'd spent himself between their pressed bodies, and had several moments to breathe, that he properly noticed the moisture dribbling down his thighs, and Harry's organ softening inside of him. Good. Good. He'd become carried away, as he always did with Harry, and chased his own pleasure. It made him feel pathetic, that a bit of intimacy could not only make him forget himself, but also his lover's needs. It was quite a relief he managed to fulfill the latter in spite of that failure.
Again, Harry pulled Severus from his thoughts with a spine melting kiss that obliterated what little control the older man still had of his limbs after such a brilliant shag. He slumped forward, fingers releasing the cushions to curl instead around Harry's shoulders, and dropped his heavy head against Harry's shoulder. The slight change in position made Harry's cock slip out of him. Severus bit his lip, unwilling to admit, but unable to conceal, how delicious he found the feeling of Harry's seed dripping freely from his body and dribbling down his legs toward the crook of his knees. If they didn't clean themselves in short order, he was going to be a sticky mess. He could already feel his own release drying on his abdomen, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He didn't want to move right now.
He rested lazily against his lover, accepting with idleness the kisses Harry dusted across his shoulder.
It was well near twenty minutes of these casual kisses, this slowly growing sticky with spent lust, before it started to grow uncomfortable enough to distract from the sheer pleasure of being together like they never had before: after the sex. Even then, it was another several minutes before either man was willing to admit it.
Finally, Harry spoke up. “This spring's been stabbing me in the arse for almost an hour. I think it's left a bruise.”
Severus lifted his head to stare down at him, and in spite of himself, laughed. “Fool. Why didn't you say so sooner?”
“Because you were about to suck my cock. I was willing to endure one thing for the sake of the other!”
Severus blushed. He'd not properly gotten around to that, in the end. “I apologize for being somewhat disappointing in that department.”
“Not at all. You're just easily distracted.” Harry grinned. “I'm quite happy with how it all turned out, in the end. But, really, as much as I hate to ask you to get off, when I've been waiting to hold you for so long, but you must have more comfortable furniture in this house.”
Severus nodded and climbed off. His legs tingled. “This couch is used primarily to entertain guests. It encourages them not to stay long. The furnishings in the upper rooms are more accommodating, though I will not pretend they are any more appealing to look at.”
He held out his hand for Harry, wondering if he looked a fool, but Harry took it. “Lead the way, Professor,” he said.

“Brat,” Severus replied with a smile. “This way.” He led Harry toward the stairwell between the bookshelves, lit the torches on the way up, leaving their clothing behind – he knew without being told that they wouldn't need them tonight. During sex, Harry was in charge. He always had been, and likely always would be. It was only after the sex that Severus was still 'Professor', and his carefully maintained control and authority were graciously returned to him.
That was fine, Severus decided. That was as it should be.
~The End~
(Story continues in 'The Aftermath')
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Breaking the Habit