Deathsong Balladeer

Desire\'s Dance

It had been too quiet for too long. Severus could feel something in the air, a waiting, apprehensive something. It was heavy and silent, and had an oppressive air. Apparently Harry could fell it as well, because he crushed himself closer to his Potion master\'s chest, arms tightening almost painfully about Snape\'s chest.

\"For the love of God, boy, you\'re going to crush the life out of me.\"

\"Sorry...\" A small word, and Snape felt the breath of its speaking against his neck. They were in his rooms, sitting before the fire. Harry had been rather quiet this evening, and that worried the head of Slytherin house. Harry was rarely *this* quiet.

\"Oh, what is it now?\" Snape asked, stroking Harry\'s hair.

\"Nothing.\" But the sullenness and bitterness in the word disputed its meaning. Snape sighed, wanting very much to strangle the boy.

\"I will ask you again, *Potter*. What is it?\"

\"And I\'ll answer, *Professor*. It\'s nothing.\" Harry turned his head down, refusing to look Snape in the eye. There was something wrong, but Snape really didn\'t feel like dragging it out of the boy. They sat in silence a few moments more, Snape\'s fingers twining idly in and out of Harry\'s hair.

\"I\'m sorry.\" Harry said suddenly.

\"Hmmm?\" Snape didn\'t look down, even though he felt Harry moving against his chest.

\"For being a prat. I didn\'t mean it. It\'s really nothing.\" He shifted himself, tucking his head firmly under Snape\'s chin. //I highly doubt that, Harry.// But he said nothing. He knew it would do no good to push the boy. The harder you pushed a man, the tighter they wrapped their shell about them, the more they withdrew. Harry would speak when he felt it was tim spe speak, and not before.

\"D\'ya want to...I dunno, play a game of chess or something?\"

\"Fine.\" Snape supposed it was better then sitting there staring into the fire and not speaking. Harry slid off of his lap, and stood up, fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt. Snape raised his eyebrow, fixing Harry with a penetrating gaze. //There is something going on in his mind. He is either nervous or troubled. Both are understandable emotions. But what has brought them on?// Harry had seemed to be recovering from his trial, not flinching when touched or shying away from certain movements. But something had happened to spark some form of discomfort in him.

\"Actually...\" Harry trailed off, swallowing hard. Snape paused, foldhis his arms.

\"Yes?\"

\"Um....do you think...\" Harry took a deep breath, and Snape said nothing. Whatever it was, it was causing Harry a great deal of mental anguish. But nothing else was offered up.

\"What, Harry?\"

\"Never mind.\" Harry shoved his hands in his pockets, staring down at the ground. Snape sighed, realizing he would have to coax after all. He knew all too well that bottling up one\'s emotions was not healthy.

\"If something is bothering you...\"

\"No.\" Too quick, too sure. It was the \'no\' that meant \'yes\'. Snape ran a hand through his hair, raking it out of his face and tucking it behind his ears.

\"I have made a name for myself by being able to judge others\' thoughts and moods.\" Snape said, eyes fixed on Harry. Slight form, trembling slightly, hunched over in an automatic physical defense position. \"There is something preying on your mind.\"

\"I told you, it\'s nothing.\"

\"I am aware of what you told me. I am also aware you have a habit of not telling me the truth.\"

Harry shrugged, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Another sign of nervousness. Snape narrowed his gaze, coal black eyes never leaving the boy. But Harry still refused to speak. //Wonderful.//

\"Potter....one of the keys to acesscessful relationship is communicating. Considering that everything else about this relationship is wrong, we may as well get at least *one* thing right.\"

\"I just...\" Harry took a deep breath, and in an amazingly innocent and childlike gesture, opened his arms to Severus. The head of Slytherin closed his eyes, nodding, before taking Harry into his arms. He clasped the boy tightly against him, Harry burying his face in Snape\'s chest. His hands caressed Snape\'s back lightly, grasping at the material of his dressing robe, pulling himself as tightly against the older man as possible.

\"Now. Speak.\" Snape entreated.

\"I just want you to touch me.\" Harry finally breathed, and Snape took a deep breath. //So that is what has been bothering him.// Snape wasn\'t sure what to do. He had refrained from even kissing the boy for a good while now, not wanting to upset him or push him back into himself.

\"Are you certain?\" Harry had tried to erase the events of his ordeal too soon afterwards, and Snape did not want a repeat of that.

\"Yes.\" The boy lifted his head, emerald eyes seeking Snape\'s for something. The Potions master nodded, and guided Harry to the bed.

\"If you are sure...\" He wanted this to be on Harry. It was his decision, his choice. It would be his first touch of true intimacy since his encounter with Lucius. And Snape was regretful that it had to be him. //But, he\'s chosen you. And you cannot be responsible for the choices he has made.//

Harry nodded, hands still gripping Snape\'s dressing robe.

\"I\'m ready for this.\" He said, and Snape couldn\'t help but wonder whether the words were for his benefit, or Harry\'s own. But he reached up, cupping Harry\'s face in his hand, and brought his lips to the boy\'s, in a surprisingly gentle kiss. //Go slow with him. Treat this as you treated his first time.//

Snape let his arms encircle Harry, holding him gently but firmly as he kissed him. He allowed Harry to take the lead, to let him know what he wanted and when. It was slow going this time, Harry hesitantly urging them on, his tongue tracing Snape\'s lips before daring to part them. The inexperience was still prominent, but it was not bad. Harry was a quick learner. He titled his face, angling his lips against Snape\'s, moving his mouth as he did so. Snape\'s hand began moving on the boy\'s back, slowly and gently.

//Gentle. Be gentle.// There was still the desire for roughness, to simply toss the boy down, not sparing teeth and nails. But he held himself back, letting Harry slip his tongue between his lips, exploring shyly. //Let him tell you what he wants. This is for him, purely for him.//

Harry shifted, pulling himself closer against Snape, deepening the kiss and heightening the contact. Snape shuddered as Harry\'s tongue outlined his lips, before slowly trailing down to his jawbone, licking curiously. Snape sat rigidly, resisting the urges to take control. That was not his role tonight. //Make this sacrifice.// That was, in essence, what it was. A sacrifice, offering himself up for the good of the boy. Harry pulled questioningly at the ties of Snape\'s dressing robes, and the older man nodded, allowing them to be untied. Harry pushed aside the neck of his dressing gown, lips and tongue exploring newly exposed flesh. Slight sensations of pleasure ran through Snape, eliciting a small sigh from his lips.

Harry\'s hand reached down, resting on Snape\'s\' thigh. The contact nearly burned. Snape could feel every subtlety of Harry\'s hand through the thin fabric of his dressing gown. The heat of his palm, the curve of his fingers, the fluttering of his pulse in his wrist. Harry\'s hand simply rested there, as he kissed Snape\'s shoulder, tongue tracing the curve of flesh.

Snape slid his hands up under Harry\'s sweatshirt, fingers stroking smooth skin. There was no flinching, no trace of fear from his young lover. This was wrong. This was sin. Snape felt the thin tendrils of desire unfurling within him, brought on by Harry\'s lips, tongue and hand. The hand which had been still was moving now, kneading Snape\'s thigh, fingers working into the taut flesh and muscle. And it was crawling steadily upwards, pushing up the dressing gown as it went. Harry pulled back, suddenly, and Snape feared he had done something wrong. Had his gentle stroking been too much? But Harry lifted the hem of his sweatshirt, tossing it easily aside.

The Potions master was struck again with the ivory perfection that was Harry Potter. Smooth and lean, not possibly made of mortal hands. What god had smiled down, and formed with his own hand the face and form of the boy? He was Pandora, Galatia, beauty made flesh. And Snape felt a twinge of guilt. //What right do I have, to him? How can I justify this?// But those thoughts were pushed away as Harry\'s hand found his growing hardness, grasping lightly. Snape sucked in a breath, grasping Harry\'s hips.

\"Did I...do something wrong?\" Harry asked, eyes wide and innocent behind his glasses.

\"No.\" Snape muttered. \"And take those damn things off...\" he reached up, flicking off Harry\'s glasses in one deft movement. The dark haired boy stuck out his tongue in a purely juvenile gesture. Snape sneered, and closed his lips over the offending digit. Harry melted into the kiss, body collapsing forward against Snape\'s chest as he resumed stroking. Snape\'s hands moved over Harry\'s back again, and dipped lower, sliding down to caress the small of his back and the strip of skin just below the waist of his loose sweatpants.

\"Can we just...do this?\" Harry asked, tearing his lips away from Snape\'s.

\"Yes.\" //Of course you stupid boy, we will do whatever it is you feel ready for.// But Snape decided that speaking in that manner to the boy would be detrimental. He let Harry touch him, hand stroking and tugging at intervals, shy yet forceful. The older man buried his face in his young lover\'s shoulder, shuddering softly as Harry ran his other hand down his back. He knew he would not last long. His only intimate contact in years had been Harry, the few weeks prior, and his ill fated encounter with Lucius. Harry\'s hand was not exactly talented, but erotic in its own brutal sense. There was a primal quality about way way Harry touched him, squeezing rather roughly, fingers closing around Snape\'s length with a certain quiet savageness.

\"Harry...\" Snape breathed the name, teeth longing to latch onto the smooth shoulder his lips were pressed against. Had it not been for Malfoy, Snape would have allowed a light nip in the throes of passion. But even the smallest amount of pain would undo what good had been done. He could feel himself tensing, feel his body straining for that point, that place where eternity was a possibility and there was no sight save for blinding brilliance.

\"Say it again.\" Harry urged, stroking faster. \"Say my name...\"

\"Harry.\" Snape repeated, his breathing ragged as he pressed his forehead into the boy\'s shoulder. \"Harry...\"

It happened. He felt it rising up in his, sweeping him up, that burst of something, overpowering. It threatened to overwhelm him, and he cried out, longing to stay in that place forever. Fire ran through his veins, life coursing through him and flowing out, leaving him limp and exhausted. He drew in great gasping breaths, clutching at the slippery planes of Harry\'s back.

\"Are you okay?\" Harry asked, still stroking Snape\'s back.

\"Fine.\" Snape managed, nuzzling Harry\'s neck in furtherssurssurance. He drew back, wiping his hair back from his eyes. Harry was looking at him, green eyes unfathomable. Snape offered up a terse smile, the corners of his lips barely curving. \"The basin, please?\"

Harry nodded, and slipped off of the bed to retrieve the water and a cloth. Snape cleaned himsin sin silence, before turning to his Gryffindor lover.

\"Lie down.\" Snape said, softly, and he stretched himself out next to Harry when the boy complied. He let his haandeander down his torso, to pause at the waistband of his sweatpants. Harry nodded, and Snape dipped his hand inside, touching the boy gently. He kissed the Gryffindor\'s neck, as he lightly grasped his shaft. Harry gasped, arching his hips, and Snape smiled. He drew down Harry\'s pants, allowing himself easier access. He teased Harry, running his fingers lightly along his length, brushing against sensitive spots that left Harry gasping and writhing. He took Harry completely in his hand, squeezing at points and stroking at others, never quite settling on a rhythm.

\"Please...\" Harry moaned. \"God, Sev, please...\"

Snape smiled, tongue trailing patterns on Harry\'s neck. He gripped him firmly, settling into a pace that would bring the boy to climax. Harry moaned, writhing and bucking his hips as Snape increased his stroking. He moved his wrist subtly, the edge of his finger hitting against a receptive point on Harry\'s shaft, and the boy cried out, arching as he reached his own climax, gripping at the sheets and Snape as he did so.

They lay together for a few moments afterwards, waiting for Harry to come down from his own peak. //This should not be. But it is. You are far too deeply embedded now. He is better now, he will leave you soon. Now that the scars have healed completely, he will have no need of you.// It was a wholly melancholy thought. Snape was not certain of his feelings for Harry, but he knew they existed. The boy still infuriated him, but in a wholly different way now.

\"Let me clean you.\" Snape muttered, taking up the damp cloth. There was a certain intimacy in this act, as he wiped away the evidence of their activities. The Potion master\'s hand was soft and gentle as he moved the cloth over Harry\'s stomach and hips, massaging as well as cleaning.

\"Thanks.\" Harry said, and Snape had a feeling it meant more then a simple gratitude for the act of cleansing.

\"You are welcome.\" He laid aside the cloth, and lay beside Harry again, taking the boy in his arms. Harry rolled over lithely, tucking himself against his teacher. They lay like that, curled together, Harry\'s head tucked beneath Snape\'s chin, arms wrapped tightly around the older man.

And that was how Lucius Malfoy found them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~