CHAPTER 16

A/N: Dear all, I apologise (not for the first time, lol!) for keeping you waiting. I found this chapter very difficult to write; it contains scenes full of (intentional) awkwardness and negative tension, and bringing that across was a big challenge. I do not know whether I have succeeded, and it took me ages until I was even remotely satisfied with this chapter.

When Severus finally reacted, it was with rage and revulsion. He staggered out of bed, picked up Harry's robes and pressed them against the youth's bare chest.

"Have you taken leave of your senses? Do you expect me to...take you, on the spot? Who do you think I am? I may be many things, but rapist, child molester or-"

Harry tried to silence him by taking his hand, but Severus backed away.

"I will not do this!" he said from between gritted teeth.

And suddenly, without warning, Harry's voice was in his mind, speaking clearly:

/You will! We will! Or do you want to lose your life just because you are being so fucking stubborn? We're supposed to take care of each other! Stop pushing me away all the time! I am seventeen. I am not a child or boy! I am a MAN!/

Severus actually stumbled backwards; his head was suddenly aching nearly as much as his forearm, then the fierce pain faded abruptly. He felt Harry guide him to the bed. Gentle but firm hands made him lie down.

"What...! How...?" he spluttered incoherently. Harry was breathing a little fast, those green eyes drilling into Severus's black ones. He was just as amazed as Severus at what had happened. The Dark Mark had stopped howling with pain and was only prickling uneasily. Harry suddenly felt dizzy and leant against the bed, momentarily overwhelmed by the shock of power brought on by the spontaneous wave of Telepathy. Severus was staring at the ceiling. Obviously, Dumbledore had been right: Harry's touch stilled the pain, Telepathy eased it but did not completely erase it...and consummation would combine the two, counteracting the curse with a magical contract far stronger than their connection to Voldemort...

His long fingers finally wrapped around Harry's, accepting the youth's touch. Harry, mostly naked, his robes spread untidily over his lap, was sitting quietly on the edge of the bed, simply looking at his husband.

"You are the most persistent and resilient creature I have ever met, Harry Potter. In fact, you are almost as bad as Albus."

Harry smiled a little, perceiving the hidden affection towards Dumbledore in the statement. It was also a hidden compliment towards himself. Severus stretched out his legs, aware, too aware of Harry's semi-nude figure just next to him. It was incredible, he thought with growing horror, that he was still capable of getting an erection after he had fainted with excruciating pain only a few minutes ago and not slept for more than half a week. Well, he tried to reassure himself, it would make intercourse with Harry easier.

"I wish," Severus said very softly, his voice nearly sweet in the sincerity of his sadness, "that I could promise you pleasure, Harry. I cannot. But I am..." he moistened his lips, and when he resumed, the words seemed forced from him against his will:

"I am beginning to understand why the Headmaster joined us together in marriage."

Harry's hand was firm in his. Its warmth made him feel good. So good.

"It is painful the first time," Severus continued. "I will give you something to numb the discomfort. Do not shake your head, Po...Harry. I refuse to have my partner suffer needlessly. Also, I insist on your writing utensils being in constant proximity."

Harry Summoned his parchment and quill – he was very good at performing this spell wandlessly. Parchment and quill arrived, settling down near Harry's head.

Severus paused, uncertain how to proceed. Harry took the initiative, scrambling up on the bed, still clutching his robes to his front. He looked into Severus's black eyes, asking for permission, half reclining on his elbow. Severus nodded slightly. Harry lay down, facing his husband.

They looked at each so intensely and seriously that a viewer would have thought that the invisible bridge created by their gaze alone was physically tangible. Harry withdrew his hand from Severus's grip slowly and touched Severus's shoulder very gently. Severus lowered his eyes; never in all his life had he been touched like this. He raised his head after a few moments and returned the touch, his long tapering fingers curling over Harry's slight shoulder blade. Severus felt his skin tingle, and the tingling spread through his whole self as he looked at Harry. The youth was delicately and exquisitely built, that messy hair wonderfully rebellious and those cat-eyes never moving away from his face. His hand – the left one with the wedding ring – hovered over his robe-veiled manhood. Too impatient to waste time on stripping, Severus divested himself of his clothes with a murmured spell, and a pool of robes and underwear promptly materialised at the foot of the bed. He was visibly aroused. Harry flushed heavily and moistened his lips; but he did not move his eyes away from his husband. He shifted closer, his chest nudging Severus's arm, and ran his hand through the curtain of dark hair which tumbled past Severus's cheek. Severus bowed his head as Harry's hand explored the texture of his hair – cautiously, uncertainly, as if ready to be snatched back at the slightest sneer or snarl from Severus.

Seeing Harry in his nearly naked glory made Severus feel used up and ugly. Then Harry's palm brushed his chest gently, intimately. The spontaneity of the touch and the trust it expressed made Severus forget about his insecurity. He cursed the Ministry for having such a narrow-minded definition of sex. There were many people who didn't like penetration and were perfectly happy with expressing their sexuality in a variety of other ways – there was no limit to the human imagination, Severus thought. His dark eyes moved to the robes with which Harry was covering his lap. Harry, noticing his gaze, thrust the robes away briskly. Severus felt his spirits plummet when he noticed that Harry was not at all aroused. He felt nauseous and disgusted at himself. The Dark Mark was utterly and happily mute, oblivious to his emotional condition, absorbed by Harry's touch.

"If you feel more comfortable covering...yourself, then please do so. It is natural that this type of unaccustomed exposure is unsettling for you," Severus said, managing to make his voice mild and considerate.

Harry bit his lip, hesitating; and it was Severus who gently drew the robes back over Harry's middle portion. There was an awkward silence between them before Severus continued:

"Now, about positions. You can lie on your back facing me, or you can lie on your stomach without eye contact with me. Some people don't like the latter position, especially in the beginning. It demands a lot of trust." he said, surprised that his voice sounded so soothing and soft instead of harsh and cold.

Harry answered by lying on his back and looking up at him steadily, flexing one knee in a subconscious gesture of invitation. Severus tried not to blink. Who in their right mind would want eye contact with him during intercourse? Harry touched his wrist, reached for his quill and sucked the tip.

I'd feel more comfortable if I looked at your face, he explained.

In another situation, Severus would have found the words more than just frank; he would have found them erotic – wildly, wonderfully, wickedly erotic. So Harry wanted to look at him during sex. At him, of all people. And he would be able to watch Harry's face...And in this situation, these musings only served to deepen his misery – his and Harry's, he reflected; and, what was even more upsetting: Severus noticed that although Harry's gaze was perfectly firm, the youth's fingers were twisting the seam of the sheets in a unintentional gesture of nervousness.

Severus placed his hand on Harry's forehead.

"I shall do my utmost to cause you as little discomfort as possible," he said in a low voice.

I know, Severus. I trust you, Harry's quill reassured him. Something twisted in Severus's chest as he read the words. The simple statement was the one of the nicest ones Severus had ever heard – he had not had many nice moments in his life. It somehow assuaged the pain of yearlong rancour and bitterness and deepened it at the same time. With long fingers, Severus reached for what he needed; the numbing agent for Harry; a condom; and, finally, a small vial of potion to induce erection – his natural one had yielded to the increasing gloominess of his mood and wilted like a desiccated plant. After preparing Harry – the youth obligingly raised his hips and parted his legs, which somehow made the whole matter worse – and ingesting the potion, both of them were ready, staring into each other's eyes again. Severus saw a slight tremor pass through Harry's body. As he bent over Harry, the young wizard's hands on his hips and the thighs raised on either side of his body tensed. Severus experienced a sensation of utter helplessness and self-loathing; then those green eyes locked firmly with his again; and they commanded him to go ahead with what they both had to do.