Disclaimer: No. These characters are not mine, though I can hardly say I'm the only one who wants them to be entangled in more situations like this one *leer*
Beta: Not this time, sorry.
Summary: 'I know, without needing to think about it, that he is beyond annoyed with me. Though what for, I cannot fathom. Perhaps just for being me.' SSHP. Snarry. Slash.
HAPPY (belated) BIRTHDAY whatsernameuk! I wanted to get it just right, and this is what I can out with. XD Hope you like!
I can hardly breathe as I stare at the ceiling. Too many emotions swirl through me, too many thoughts that I cannot control. Too many days have gone past where I have been too alone with myself- in their need to help me, my friends have inadvertently done the opposite.
And I can bear no more of this. I gingerly ease my way out of the bed, and freeze as Ron snorts and shifts in his sleep. But he settles back down and I continue on my way. The house is quiet, but the minor challenge of walking about unnoticed keeps my mind occupied and centered.
There is no plan to where I am going- all I needed was to move, to free myself of the confines of that room and those people and their unconscious expectations. Although they slept their hopes and fears and dreams hammered me, bruising my already fragile control and threatening to fracture it altogether.
I sneak out of the Weasley's house and straighten with a sigh of relief. The darkness of the night is a balm to my flighty soul, and I head to the broom shed determinedly. Flying was always a good choice to distract me from unnerving thoughts.
But as I reach the door a figure appears out of the night and blocks me. Startled, I gasp and back up, even as my mind registers familiarity with the tall, thin man.
"Scared, Potter?" that silky voice asks contemptuously from the shadows of the shed, but the relief I feel at his presence overwhelms any anger I might otherwise have felt.
"You just startled me, sir." I reply, and it's nothing other than the truth. But… "Why are you here? I thought the meeting wasn't until tomorrow." Suspicion nags at me as Snape takes his time responding.
"Dumbledore insisted that I arrive early." Snape's snort eloquently expresses his feelings on the matter, and privately I agree. He continues. "And so I arrive in the middle of the night, foolishly hoping that my arrival would go unnoticed." He glares at me, his eyebrows drawn together in a menacing scowl. "Of course you would spoil that hope."
I shrug. It is too late- or early- to bother starting a fight with him. We stand there for a little while, not speaking- just there, and with nothing better to do my mind reverts back to the thoughts that had originally drawn me from my bed.
In three weeks school will start again, and I will be in my Seventh Year. I will have to pass exams, and destroy Horcrux's, and eventually kill Voldemort. I will have to continue to fight with Malfoy, though we have become great friends over the summer. All of the other minute details that plague my thoughts every waking day- and many sleepless nights- return to me, and I stiffen as the worries begin to overwhelm me.
"Potter," Snape's voice snaps me back to the present, and I stare at him in question as I try to mask my relief at his interruption of my thoughts.. "Stop thinking so loudly." His glower sends chills down my spine. "I thought that I had at least taught you that much of Occulmency."
I sigh, and at the sound Snape steps out of the concealing shadows. For the first time since his arrival I see all of him, and I cannot look away. His clothes are black- how could they not be?- but they were not his usual robes. He notices my gaze, and his eyes shutter as he registers where my attention is focused.
But he ignores my perusal of him after that and studies me- my expression, my posture, I do not know. But a frown appears on his face, and he purses his lips.
"What have you done to yourself, Potter?" he snaps peevishly, and I heave another sigh before I respond.
"Nothing, I think. Or at least, I don't think so." But those damned thoughts are invading my mind again, and I don't pay as much attention to his reaction to my words as I should. I see his lips purse once more, and his arms cross before him. And I know, without needing to think about it, that he is beyond annoyed with me. Though what for, I cannot fathom. Perhaps just for being me.
But those are foolish thoughts- the same nonsensical ideas that have drifted through my skull for the past month are beginning to alter things I know have not changed. Snape- though he undoubtedly resents my existence- would never hurt me. He has always been there for me. He has always protected me.
I shake my head to clear it of those thoughts, and turn back to my Professor. His expression is unreadable, his face completely smooth and still. I hunch my shoulders and shove my hands in my pockets, suddenly aware of the chill breeze and the thinness of my pajamas. I should be getting back inside- most likely someone has woken and noticed my absence.
"Of all the foolish-" Snape starts to say, his voice pure venom, before he cuts himself off. I watch him, watch his stiff movements that indicate his displeasure, and wonder what I had done this time. His wand is suddenly in his hand, whirling in a complicated motion I have yet to learn, and a cloak appears in his hand.
He is muttering under his breath, cursing my stupidity no doubt, and comes towards me to swing the cloak over my shoulders and clasping it shut. I feel my heart stutter in my chest at his proximity, and turn my suddenly blazing face away from him, waiting for him to move.
But he doesn't leave- he stays in front of me, hands resting on the clasp of the cloak, and I can feel his eyes boring into the side of my head. Maybe that is why I turn to face him once more- the feel of his eyes burning into me more of a distraction then facing him. Whatever the reason my head slowly swings around until I am looking at him, looking up at him through my lashes, meeting his onyx gaze with my own emerald eyes.
I can read nothing from his stare, though I know he can read my every thought on my face- or from my mind itself. I had been too busy this past year to keep up on my Occulmency, and my skills are not what they once were. Not that I was even that good to begin with.
But thoughts like that fade away as he continues to stare at me, and deep down inside myself I feel something start to wake up. Something I have not felt in a long, long time. It pushes the inconsequential thoughts from my mind and replaces them with itself, and as it begins to expand I recognise it.
I have not felt physical desire in more time than I cared to contemplate. Though I am young- only days past seventeen- I know the shape, the texture, the feel of this as it slithers through me and fills in the empty gaps. Snape is staring at me, and his hands seem to move of their own accord to my shoulders.
"Stop thinking," he whispers softly, and one long fingered hand slides over my shoulders to the base of my neck and cradles my head. I try to obey, but my mind is full of him and his presence and his scent that I can suddenly smell- cinnamon and ink- and my mouth waters.
The fingers at the base of my neck flex, and I tip my head back at the slight pressure. I wonder what he is going to do- will he leave me here? Will he step back and laugh at the fool he has made of me? Will he-
Thin, warm lips cut off my train of thought as abruptly as a power-outage. A soft gasp escapes my throat in surprise, and Snape seems to delight in that. His lips caress mine gently- a word I had never once thought to use in conjunction with the Potions Master.
"Shhh…" he hisses against my lips, and I shiver from the sheer sensuality of the act. "Do not think about it." He captures my lips again before I can reply, but I don't care. His tongue is tracing the outline of my lips, and his teeth latch onto my bottom lip, biting softly before sucking it into his mouth. I moan, and press against him as he releases my lip with a soft pop. My hands fist in his shirt, and he pulls me even closer.
There is nothing I can do against this assault, but I do not want to stop it. Snape traces the seam of my lips once, twice, again, and I understand what he wants. With a breath, I open my mouth to him and he enters, his tongue meeting and twining with mine. I stumble against him, pulling him closer as his taste invades my mouth and leaves me weak at the knees.
He holds me tight as his tongue explores, tracing patterns on my teeth and tasting my cheeks and licking my tongue. Fire rushes through my blood at this- I have never been so thoroughly kissed before in my life. With reluctance I pull away, panting for air, and stare at him. I wonder what I look like, freshly kissed, but knowing that however I looked was enough for Snape.
He drags me into the shadows of the broom shed and forces me up against the wall, capturing both my wrists with one hand and wrapping the other around my waist. He claims my mouth again and I let him, enjoying the sensation and trying to wriggle closer to him. Time becomes unimportant, measured only by how many times we separate for air.
I feel refreshed- alive- as Snape plunders my willing mouth, and I moan in appreciation. Snape stops at the sound, and I stare at him, wondering what was wrong. But he was not looking at me as though I was causing a problem- no. Just the opposite.
For a moment I hesitated, wondering how far this was going to go. But for once in my life I set my thoughts and fears and worries to the side, and just revel in the moment.
Something that I have rarely- if ever- done.
When I present my lips to Snape for another kiss, he seems to understand my internal decision. He meets me kiss for kiss, and as I free my hands and they begin to roam his body feverishly, he presses me even closer to the wall. His hands, too, are exploring, sliding under my shirt and trailing burning paths where he touches me.
His hands wrap around my waist, lifting me up and encouraging me, and I find to my surprise that he has undone my pajamas. My legs twine around his strong waist, gripping him close to me, and he leaves my mouth to trail hot, blistering kisses along my jaw and my neck. Snape bites down sharply, and I cry out breathlessly in surprise.
His head raises and he looks at me, his pitch-black eyes searing into my soul and searching for something that only he knows.
I rub against him furiously, little helpless whimpers falling from my throat and I am useless against him and he knows it. He brings his hands lower, and I gasp as the heat from his body burns into me, his hands groping my ass through the thin cloth and sending me up in flames.
It is all I can do to breathe, and Snape doesn't help, sliding his hands into the waistband of my pajamas and gripping my naked skin. His breathing is harsh against my neck, and my hands scrabble to gain purchase on his strong shoulders and hold him tight.
The cool night is silent as we writhe against each other, and my eyes water as they stare at the bright moon. Snape is teasing me, the long fingers of one hand rubbing gentle circles in an area that has never been touched, and the other pushing my shirt up to my collarbone, revealing my chest, and he is biting and licking my nipples and I feel like the night is going to explode around me.
I am helpless in his hands- he is holding me up and manipulating me and I have never felt so vulnerable or alive in my short, short life. I want to return some of the favour but he refuses to let me, and I am left to grip his shoulders with my hands and his waist with my legs, mind blotting out from the pure bliss that is overwhelming me.
And before I realize it Snape has left off tormenting my rear to torture my front, and as his hand encloses my straining cock I let out another breathless cry. I buck against him, the radical sensation of someone else touching me there almost too much to take, but he holds me steady in his sure, strong grip. My head arches back until the wall of the shed is bruising the top of my head, and my eyes stare sightless at the far stars.
The night is filled with my sounds- moans and whimpers and harsh little panting breaths that I would be ashamed of in any other situation- but Snape is silent. I can only hear his harsh breathing in my ear- and though to me it is as loud as a steam engine I know it is not.
He lets go of my cock, and I let my head drop back to stare at him in question. But he carefully juggles me, holding me tightly to him with one arm and reaching with the other. His free hand catches the waistband of my pajamas, and I feel a chill race down my spine as he works the cloth past my ass and leaves me revealed to the world.
Snape's free hand slides between us, and I know what he is going to do and I am angry. I want to free him- I want to see what he looks like and I want to hold him and feel him and memorize him. He starts as I grab his wrist, his coal-black eyes looking at me in question, but I ignore him and remove his hand from his trousers.
Those onyx eyes begin to burn into me as I fumble with the catch of his pants, but he returns his hands to my waist and hoists me a little further into the air. I am grateful for the bit of extra room, and in a short while his trousers are undone and I am reaching into them, breathing fast and shallow, wondering what he will be like.
His cock is thick and heavy in my hand, and as I release it from its confines the length of it astounds me. Snape is breathing as heavily as I am, and my hand trembles as it holds another man's cock for the first time. But I swallow the irrational surge of fear the action brings, and wrap my hand around the base of his long cock, stroking gently.
Snape's head thunks onto my shoulder at the motion, and he squeezes me closer to him, and all of my sudden doubts and fears fade in the surge of triumph I feel as his body begins to shake.
I get more and more adventurous, and I hold him a little harder and move a little faster than I have yet to do, and Snape stiffens. He grabs my wrist this time, to halt me, and pushes it out of the way. I feel the whisper of his lips against my skin, and I gasp as my entire body abruptly relaxes.
But he shifts me once more in his arms, and for a moment I can see his long, thick cock standing proudly at attention, before he lowers me down. Slowly. And my blood seems to boil as the hard smoothness of his cock strokes me gently before finding my hole and pushing against it. My back flexes at the intimate, strange feeling and I grab Snape even closer, my hands running up and down his back as the inexorable motion goes on and on and on.
For a moment I think that it will never stop, that he'll never be inside me, but the pleasure and the slight pain are making thinking impossible and I am about to cry at that realization. My hands find the edge of Snape's shirt and slid under, and he stiffens at the feel of my hands on his back, gripping his skin with desperate, greedy need, and he plunges the rest of the way inside me.
I cry out at the abrupt motion, my head snapping back at the sudden flare of pain, and Snape's hands are caressing me, his lips finding mine and swallowing the whimpers that are dripping from my throat.
The pain is excruciating, and the wall of the shed is bruising and scraping my back, and I can hardly breathe through it and the kiss. But it is fading, and as Snape shifts his body restlessly it is gone and the pleasure is intoxicating, and I whine around his tongue and thank Merlin he understands me.
He pulls out until he is barely inside me, and slams back in, and I can barely breathe because there is nothing this side of heaven that should make me feel this good, and he is the center of my universe and I cannot live without him.
I claw at his back as he repeats the action, again and again and again, and I think that I must have died and gone to Paradise. Snape releases me from the kiss and buries his face between my shoulder and my neck, biting me as hard as he can as I rake my nails along his back.
But Snape moves faster and faster, and I try to help even though I don't know what I'm doing, and ecstasy is right there and if he would just go faster or harder or bite me or something then I could race off the cliff and explode into eternity and Snape seems to know what I need.
He frees one hand from gripping my waist and wraps it around my cock and pumps in time with his thrusts, pulling away from my neck and staring at me with eyes like chips of obsidian and my own eyes squeeze shut at the sight because it is- he is- too much.
Time passes in seconds and years and I can feel the end coming. My eyes open in shock as Snape drags his nails down my cock, the sensation doubled and tripled beyond what it should be as he forces himself inside me once again and the world explodes behind my eyes.
My scream is muffled by his shoulder, my teeth sinking deep into his skin as pleasure I have never felt before seizes my muscles and stiffens my body. I can see stars through the rapturous haze that fills my mind, and my teeth release Snape as my muscles turn to liquid.
I open my eyes lazily, enjoying the feel of Snape's muscles contracting as he continues towards his goal. My lethargic hand reaches out to his chest and with barely a touch from me he explodes.
And it is fascinating.
His grip on me tightens as his entire body stiffens, and his eyes shut briefly through the pleasure. A small, almost unheard breath escapes his lips, and I find myself smiling stupidly at it. But the moment passes almost immediately and Snape's eyes are once again open and staring at me, taking in my smile and processing the meaning of it.
He claims my lips in a dominating kiss, though I barely have the energy to return it. But Snape has taken possession of all of me, and I have let him.
The morning light disturbs my sleep, and I frown even as I wake up. Was it all a dream? How did I get back into my bed if it wasn't?
But Ron's gasp when I sit up has me turning to him, and his wide eyes make me look down at myself, hand unconsciously coming up to my neck to cover the bruising I feel there. But that wasn't the cause of Ron's gasp, and I smile as I run my hand down my side.
Expensive black silk covers me, the top falling off of my shoulder and the bottoms just a touch too long, and my smile turns secretive. I remember this- Snape caustically declaring my old pajamas too 'filthy' to use and dressing me in these. But his possessive eyes had denied the harshness of his words, and I had agreed with him.
Ron's voice interrupts my thoughts, and I turn to look back at him.
"Blimey! Where'd you get those, Harry? They must have cost a fortune." His voice was admiring, and a little bit jealous, and I choose my words wisely. He is always sensitive when it comes to deliberate displays of wealth.
"They were a birthday gift from a dear friend," I explain, wanting to smile as the lie sort of makes sense. But Ron accepts it and gets out of bed, and we go downstairs for breakfast, still in our pajamas as tradition dictates.
The table was already full- Hermione and Ginny and the twins and the other members of the Weasley family are expected, as are McGonagall and Dumbledore and Remus and Tonks. But no one looks happy to see Snape sitting stiffly in the corner, and I carefully look away from him.
As I sit at the table with my full plate, between Fred and George, something makes me look over to Snape. For a brief moment, our eyes meet, and an electric thrill races down my spine at the contact. His inky eyes drink in my outfit and the hickey I had charmed to be visible only to him, and they flare possessively. He shifts as though his back pains him, and I inhale suddenly as I realize he hasn't healed the marks my nails made on him last night. His eyes are dark, promising, and I take a trembling breath as he continues to stare.
With a shiver, I look away, knowing sure as anything that Snape was never, ever going to let me go.
And I was perfectly fine with that.
Right then. Another experiment with First Person- please forgive my various gross grammatical mistakes with my tenses. We have issues (angry face) Otherwise, please feel free to review- I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out, but I'll love your input till the end of time, dear reviewers. XD