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True	By : BeckyHoadley Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 3565 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-True
- 1
Title: True
Author: Skye
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: SS/HP
Summary: After years of denying his sexuality, an old friend helps Harry find himself.
Author’s notes: What we have here is several thousand words of PWP. This just did not work. It isn’t that bad, but they wouldn’t stay out of the damn bed, Snape turned into a fluffy sticky sweet character. Of course the plot also evaporated. I tried, I did, but this turned into overly romanticized fluff. Still. Smut is smut, I wrote it, Asha looked over it, so someone may as well read it, especially given the week and a half it took me to write the sex, before I relegate it to the ‘dead fic’ file.

‘What are you doing out here, Potter?’ Alone, in the dark, while all of your friends are in the various establishments , ‘celebrating’ your ‘freedom’ and your return to the ‘market’, he continued to himself.

‘What are you?’ Came the quiet reply.

’Avoiding social interaction with inebriated idiots.’

‘Well, there you go.’

There was a long pause while Harry simply leaned against the railing. Looking into the night for long minutes before he spoke.

‘You weren’t surprised to hear that we’d divorced?’ Harry said, turning the subject a bit more immediate and personal. They’d formed a cautious friendship over a decade ago. At times they were closer than others, but always in at least loose contact. He could think of no one he trusted more. In fact he could think of no one he trusted with his personal life at all, outside this dark and at times foreboding man.

‘No. Though I was relieved you hadn’t spawned.’

‘What and pass on my flawed genes? No thank you.’

‘Tsk tsk, you’re bitter.’

‘Aren’t I though? I rather thought you’d appreciate it.’

‘Harry,’ Snape’s tone turned serious, ‘I have never wished you ill, and to see you so haunted certainly brings me no pleasure.’

‘I know,’ Harry took a deep breath and then another, ‘I know that. I’m sorry. I just-- I god help me I tried to ignore it and...’ he was getting hysterical, and feeling like an eleven year old again. But -- his whole life. The whole damn thing had been such a lie. He’d tried, he tried to be normal, but he just kept on being a freak. No one knew, what his dirty little secret was. A secret he’d kept for more nearly fifteen years.

Then strong, warm, arms wrapped around him, held him close. Soft voice in his ear whispering, ‘Shhhh.’ Snape wouldn’t be doing this if he knew... if he knew just what breed of freak he was, Harry thought wildly, but couldn’t keep from burrowing closer. He needed this. He needed this so badly it hurt. Needed someone stronger than him, larger than him, to just hold him. That was all he wanted, his whole life all he’d wanted, all he’d needed.

‘I know,’ came the very soft voice.

Harry stiffened. He couldn’t know, could he? He’d been careful. He’d married, he’d tried hard to act normal. Played Quidditch, dated, even slept around, distasteful as it had been. No. It was impossible, he was speaking in the hypothetical, just spouting nonsense to reassure him.

‘Shhhh,’ Snape soothed again, palm rubbing his back in slow circles, ‘It’s ok.’

‘What’s ok?’ Harry asked, voice shaking, but trying hard to act impassive, as though he were merely snarking back.

‘Who you are. What you are. Being gay isn’t the end of the world, Harry. It just... be careful.’

Oh no. No no no no. Being homosexual in the wizarding world was worse than--anything. It could get you reprogrammed. Maybe he should be reprogrammed. Maybe being turned straight was worth the risk of death and insanity. He’d never thought that before, but now. ... now someone knew.

That that someone was holding him carefully and petting his hair, rocking slowly back and forth in an effort to calm him never entered his mind. ‘Sh,’ Snape repeated, ‘Just relax and breathe. You’re safe.’

‘I can’t be gay,’ He said in a very small voice.

‘Can’t you?’ Came the darkly amused voice.

Harry pulled back for a moment but couldn’t make himself move outside that strong, sheltering embrace. ‘No. I can’t. It’s wrong. It’s against nature. It’s against God. You can’t have kids if you’re gay, and sex without heirs is dirty and spreads diseases. AIDS was brought on by homosexuals and killed good people- ‘ he was prepared to spout every bit of rationalization that he’d ever heard. Every bit of anti-homosexual propaganda that he could recall.

Snape stopped him with a very soft, ‘You’re smarter than that. We shouldn’t have this discussion here. It isn’t safe. For either of us.’

The words hadn’t sunk in before he felt the familiar tug of apparation and found himself in what was obviously Snape’s flat inside Hogwarts. The words didn’t sink in there either... at least not the last bit.

Snape gently pushed Harry away from him, leaving Harry feeling exposed, and bereft. He sat on the couch and propped his arms on his knees, staring at his hands while Snape tinkered about.

Snape reappeared and sat reassuringly close, robes discarded leaving him in simple slacks and button down shirt, pressing a cut crystal tumbler into his hand, ‘Drink.’

Harry drank automatic, gr, grateful for it’s calming effects and the pseudo-warmth it spread through his abdomen.

‘Better?’ Snape asked quietly. Harry simply nodded.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘You expect me to what? Give you detention? Or spread the information to the Ministry so they can ‘fix’ you?’

At Harry’s grimace Snape realized he’d hit uncomfortably close to the truth.

‘Harry-- there is nothing wrong with being gay. Nothing.’

‘It isn’t right,’ Harry mumbled.

‘And how did being with Ginny feel? Did that feel right? Or was it so bloody hard that it felt like you were losing your soul, dying a little every day. Playing a role without the script?’

At that point Harry understood, a little and looked up in surprise. That was uncomfortably insightful. Perhaps too insightful for mere conjecture? Raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry. Snape responded, ‘Queer as a three bit bob,’ lightly.

‘It’s who you are, Harry. Don’t make apologies for it. God knows you have to be careful but--. Take companionship and comfort in whatever form you find it.’

He’d never be comfortable, Harry thought dismally. He’d never have the courage to approach anyone, or let anyone close to him, never feel safe. How Snape did it, he had no idea. Then again the man was a spy, and used to reading people and keeping his ass safe. Harry hadn't managed his subterfuge quite so well. His marriage had ended though the reasons were trivial. He knew he couldn’t do it again, couldn’t go on pretending. At least now, maybe, they would accept that he just didn’t want to be involved again.

He wasn’t thinking about it when he leaned against Snape, shaking. Delayed stress reaction, probably. The man just seemed so-- sure of himself. Competent and confident and altogether compelling. He felt safer here, with Snape knowing, than he had in years of hiding. There was nothing the man didn’t know about him, now, and he hadn’t gone off shrieking in disgust or threatened to have his aberrancy ‘fixed’.

Seeming to sense his train of thought, or maybe just knowing how vulnerable he felt, Snape wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed the top of his head. The simple action resonated so strongly, and so deeply, within him that it hurt. It was literally, physically painful. Snape knew dammit. Why the hell wasn’t he screaming and running away? Except... he seemed to think it was ‘ok’. He was even... like him?

It was all just too much, suddenly, and he felt his control slipping. He hadn’t cried since Cedric’s death, and there was very little doubt he was going to now. He was just...unraveling. It was an unpleasant sensation at best, his control falling apart like this. Quite against his conscious will, Harrys head went down against the other man’s chest, hiding his face and clinging to him, hands fisting in his shirt. He’d be embarrassed later.

When tears started to fall, soaking into the soft cotton, Snape’s hand moved to the back of his neck, pushing into his hair and he turned, knee pressing into the back of the couch, so he could pull Harry closer and bring his other arm around him. For a moment, just a moment, Harry froze. He knew this should be wrong.... but it wasn’t. With a stifled sob he just--held on.

Snape stilled when he’d stiffened but when he relaxed into his arms again the hands started to stroke him, soothingly. Snape wasn’t talking, wasn’t hushing him, only offering reassurance that he was NOT broken. He did not need to be fixed. Finally tears stopped. Harry didn’t cry often, and was too uncomfortable to cry long. It just wasn’t his nature.

Rubbing his face haphazardly over a strong, well muscled, chest, Harry sighed and looked up. Snape looked--concerned, but said only, ‘Are you done?’ Harry knew the words were meant lightly, and took them as Severus has intended them. He nodded and started to pull away. It really wasn’t decent for two men to be wrapped around one another like this. If someone saw...

Except there was no one here, and it just felt too damn good and he’d wanted it too long to protest when Snape not only didn’t let him go but slowly lowered his head. He was moving so slowly, so carefully that there was ample time for Harry to move away, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to. The first light brush of lips meeting him and he hurt, all over, with the absolute rightness of it.

It was nothing at all like the kisses he’d shared with Ginny, or the few girls before her. It was warm and soft, but there was nothing tentative about it. Snape was very definitely dominant here, and it was everything Harry needed. The scent of after shave, the beard stubble under the palm he’d raised to Severus’s face, and the way Snape’s tongue filled his mouth completely, gently exploring.

It was all right in a way nothing he’d ever experienced before had been. It rocked through him, enflamed him, and it made him desperate to crawl inside Severus, be consumed by him and burn away all his doubt and reservations. He was less than pleased when the hand in his hair pulled him back and forced an end to the kiss. It brought reality back with a vengeance and he found himself shaking again, harder than ever, and tears were back in his eyes.

Snape brushed his thumb over his cheek, wiping away the tear that had escaped. ‘I really did not mean to do this.’

Harry could only whimper. He felt exposed, as though he’d been split open and scrubbed raw. He wanted Severus so badly he was shaking... and he was scared. Because if he took this any further, if he didn’t just get up and walk away, he would be admitting once and for all what he was. There would be no way to deny it, or to hide from it.

It would be reality.

Suddenly he didn’t care. He wanted, just once, to feel this. To have something, someone, he wanted. He’d faced things that had been far scarier than one retired death-eater, slightly snarky. He trusted the man with his life. He could trust him with his body. Snape certainly seemed to know what he was doing. If the man was nothing else he was comfortable in his own skin.

It took every bit of courage he had, more even when he’d faced Voldemort, to kiss Severus. It was awckward. It felt clumsy, and he hoped to God the man would understand what he couldn't bring himself to say. Thankfully Severus regained control quickly, nudging his lips apart and slipping past the unresisting barrier of his teeth, pushing against the roof of his mouth, stroking his tongue. The moan seemed to well up from his toes.

Without ending that searing, consuming kiss, Severus pulled him to to stand, one hand pulling him closer, into that hard, angular, undoubtedly male body, the other reaching down and long fingers sliding over his wrist, caressing softly. The gentle, calming touch, contrasting to the depth of passion in the kiss was heady, made his head swim.

He honestly didn’t remember getting to the bedroom. He didn’t care how he got to the bedroom. All that mattered was hands pushing his robes off his shoulders, and working the buttons of his shirt free with excruciating slowness. Every bit of skin exposed was caressed, and the lips covering his slid to his jaw, nipping lightly. The feel of stubble, and muscles rippling under his hands made Harry’s head spin. This was so RIGHT. He couldn’t stop now if he wanted to, couldn’t stop no matter what the consequences might be.

They continued, Snape slowly and silently undressing him, fingers curling around his ankles and stroking lightly as he pulled socks and shoes off, palms warm against his thighs as his pants and boxers followed. Each touch pushing him higher, making him more desperate until he could barely see straight. By the time Snape pulled away to shed his own clothing, Harry was--needy in a way he had never been.

Then Snape slid into bed, and pulled the covers over them and something inside him shifted. In his heart, or in his mind, maybe even in his very soul. Desperate desire faded and was replaced by a sense of ... awe maybe, or peace. The desire was still there, but had mutated into something more than lust. What he desired was no longer simply the physical release, the novel experience of being with a man.

He wanted to be with THIS man, and what he wanted wasn’t a simple joining of flesh. For the first time in his life, here was someone he could give it all too, and who wouldn’t run. Someone who wasn’t afraid of the dark, someone who knew everything there was to know, and was here anyway. The first time he was able to be with someone without secrets between them.

Seeming to think he was reluctant, Snape arched an eyebrow, ‘Mm?’

‘I want you...’ Harry said, very softly.

Snape blinked at him, seeming to understand what he hadn’t said. He pulled Harry closer, and Harry curled into his arms, amazed at how well he fit there, as if they’d been carved of one stone. Snape pulled him up and over until he was lying on top of him, hands petting him in long, slow strokes. Harry arched into the touch with a soft moan.

The hand sliding over his shoulders and back, to the curve of his buttocks felt... warm. The stiff scratch of hair against his chest, and hard length pressed into his stomach was...electrifying. The combination was devastating.

When the hand trailed down his thigh came up, dragging lightly between his cheeks the contact made him stiffen and whimper softly.

Snape leaned up slightly, and edge of Harry’s ear with his tongue before breathing, ‘We don’t have to—’

Harry shook his head, trying to clear it. He looked down into Snape’s dark eyes, and said, ‘But I want to..’

Snape looked at him intently for a moment, evidently trying to decide if he meant it or not. Harry wasn’t sure he was capable of saying more, of finding the words for what he wanted, so he leaned down and kissed Severus again.

The kiss started more passionately than before... hungrier and needier. More demanding. When Severus bit his lower lip, Harry’s hips thrust downward automatically. The motion, of course, caused his cock to slide against the Severus’s strong, lightly furred, thigh. Harry wrenched his mouth away from the other man, and gasped, burying his face in the side of his neck.

One of Snape’s hands curved around Harry’s hip, the other forearm rested across the small of his back, pressing them more firmly together. Harry ground forward, panting, hands tangling in silky black hair. Each shallow breathe flooded his lungs with the scent of Severus- after shave, soap, something medicinal, and under it all the musky, unique scent of male arousal, and this particular male.

‘S-s-s-sev..,’ Harry stuttered.

‘It’s okay,’ the older man repeated softly.

It took over ounce of willpower Harry had to struggle out of those arms. When he pulled away Severus looked bewildered, his expression guarded.

Harry dropped a kiss lightly on Severus’s lips and then moved away, saying so softly he wasn't sure it would be heard, ‘I want you in me.’

Fortunately Snape heard him. Harry wasn’t sure he was capable of saying that again.

‘all right...’ Snape seemed to be gathering his own wits, as he spoke, ‘Come here...’

Harry was gently maneuvered onto his side, and Snape pressed against his back, curling around him. It was surprisingly comfortable and reassuring to lie there, with someone wrapped around him. Harry could feel the warm breath tickling the back of his neck, stirring his hair and sighed softly.

After a moment Severus pulled away, just slightly. Harry heard him muttering to himself, and the sound of glass tinkling. Then the heel of Severus’s very warm hand was sliding down the center of his back, in a slow, lingering caress. Harry could literally feel muscles unknotting under the gentle, firm, knowing touch.

He was so limp and relaxed by the time Severus probed gently between his cheeks that he barely noticed as the finger slid easily inside. It was--different, Harry thought. Not bad, but not particularly as earth-shattering as he would have expected. Then it was joined by a second, easing slowly and it burnt a bit. He shifted uncomfortably and Snape nipped the curve of his shoulder.

Then he saw sparks and gasped. His arousal returned, and amplified as the white hot jolt of pleasure and he thrust downward with an inarticulate gurgle. He felt, and heard, the quiet chuckle behind him. It was nice, he thought blearily. The man needed to laugh more.

‘Mm,’ Snape said softly against his neck as he slid a third finger easily inside, rubbing lightly over that spot again, causing Harry to arch back and groan loudly. He’d never been verbal before... Then nothing had ever felt like THAT either. The stretch was frightening, intimidating, but at the moment it was irrelevant. As long as those wonderful fingers kept stroking him, nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed.

When Snape gently slid them free, and he could feel the blunt, slick, head of Snape’s cock against him, reality returned with a vengeance. Once positioned against him, Snape pushed up on an elbow and reached around and covered the back of Harry’s hand with his own, weaving their fingers together.

‘Relax,’ was murmured directly into his ear, ‘and trust me, Harry... Just trust me.’

‘Yes...’ Harry hissed. He did trust him, and that was as different from anything he’d experienced before as the cock pressing against him.

He had known it was going to hurt. No way for it not to, really, and he’d expected it. Still, it was... more than he’d anticipated. More stretch, more pressure, and, frankly, more pain. As the swollen head slid past the ring, every muscle Harry had snapped tight, including those in his lower back on arse. That, of course, only increased the pain and he cried out softly and arched away from the painful invasion.

‘Easy,’ Snape said quietly, and squeezed his hand before releasing it to stroke over his side, ‘Just relax... it will pass.’

It did. As Severus muttered to him, coaching him quietly to breathe, and relax, he settled and the tension bled out of him. Pain faded to nothing, and Harry shifted experimentally, pushing back slightly.

Snape shifted behind him, with a low groan and pushed forward, sliding, slowly, the rest of the way into him. The connection was so close, so tight, that Harry could feel Snape’s pulse, every centimeter of flesh that was pulled slowly back and then pressed back into him. His mouth fell open and his eyes closed as he began to pant shallowly, mind chanting silently Right this is right,’ over and over to the easy rhythm of Severus’s thrusts.

When Snape thrust forward with a bit more force, he brushed that....wonderful little spot buried inside of him, that no one had found before, and Harry gasped and with his lovers help managed to get to his hands and knees. The slow, steady pace never altered as he went from his side to all fours and then maneuvered so that his forearms and palms met Severus’s.

Every inch of his back covered by Severus’s sweat slick chest, feeling his pulse against his back and so deep inside, the feel of Severus’s thighs flexing, their fingers woven together. When his head fell against Severus’s shoulder, and the other kissed him, almost lazily, dark hair veiling him from the outside world-- Harry had never, felt more connected with anyone in his life.

Climax blind sided him, caught him totally unaware with it’s suddenness and intensity. He pulled away from Severus’s mouth, and bit down on the side of his throat, teeth sinking into the pale flesh. Snape growled, a low, animalistic sound as Harry pulled him over the edge with him.

They sank back to the bed, Snape pulling Harry with him. It seemed forever before his breath returned to normal, until his pulse slowed and he stopped panting raggedly, and he was able to say, ‘Thank you.’

‘My pleasure,’ Snape said very, very, quietly, stroking a tear away from Harry’s cheek and kissing his forehead gently.
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