Rubbish.

Snape hurried back to his office and shut the door, struggling to quell the warm tempest in his lower stomach, sliding down to sit with his back against the door. He lifted the sleeve of his robe and stared at the smooth skin against which he had so recently felt the soft breath of his young charge. "No....Fuck, no." There was no denying the way his cock had reacted to Harry's breath, or the desire that had risen within him like the tide. He hadn't wanted anyone since Lily, hadn't had sex since his first and only time. If one can classify rape as sex, that is. He dropped his head forward, lips brushing his forearm as if he could taste the breath of his ward on his flesh.


"I can't be having these feelings for Harry, he's young enough to be my son and he's...well, fuck, he's Harry!" He groaned and shivered, unbidden images of his ward flashing through his mind. The boy on his hands and knees, naked and waiting for his punishment, flying on his broom in the backyard, laughing. He had years of Harry to bring to mind and even the images from when the boy was always fighting him filled him with a hungry heat. 'My, god...He's beautiful. Which is exactly why I shouldn't be thinking of him this way. As if any teenage boy would want someone like me, let alone Harry.' He scoffed quietly at himself and stood, whipping off his robes and striding across to stand before his full-length mirror.


He watched his reflection with a numb expression as he unbuttoned his shirt and slid it from his slender shoulders, forcing himself to look at his body. His skin was the transluscent white of one who never sees the sun, form lean and willowy, rosy nipples standing out on his sleekly muscular torso. But, his eyes didn't see these things, for they were focused on the raised scars that wove their way over his skin in a deliberate design. Scars that blanketed his skin in Celtic knotwork, intricate patterns that had taken weeks to create, and Snape could still remember every stab of agony from the blade that had been used. He shuddered, lifting a hand to touch the center of his chest, where lay the painstakingly detailed rose, remembering his screams. 'No one could ever love a man so marked and made hideous by scars.'


He made himself stare for ten more minutes, punishing himself for the inappropriate response to Harry, and hoping the lesson had sunk in. He finally covered himself hurriedly, heat flushing his face with shame at being so exposed, though there was no one else in the room to see. He swallowed hard as he turned to his desk to finish off a letter, then returned to the kitchen to spell up some food for himself and his charge.


~~:~~


Snape stood on rocky cliffs overlooking the ocean, a stab of fear spiking through his heart as he recognized the landscape, turning to look down through the meadow behind him. Beyond a sprawling field of emerald grass and bright wildflowers lay a run-down cottage, the weathered walls even more scarred by time than when he'd lived within them. He swallowed hard and started down toward the house, trembling with terror, but he couldn't deny the call of that hated dwelling. The closer he got, the stronger the fear grew until he stopped outside of the crookedly-hanging door shaking like a leaf and whimpering softly.


He pushed the door open and heard it fall off of it's rusted hinges, crashing to the floor in a skirl of thick dust. His eyes passed over the neglected interior as his quivering legs forced him in amidst the smell of rotting wood and bitter memories. He trailed his gaze over the empty room, wincing back from the recollection of a million harshly spoken words, stinging slaps and unspeakable cruelties suffered here at the hands of his father. He stepped further in before his legs gave way and he fell to his knees, sobbing quietly as he bent to press his trembling hands to his face, breath coming in ragged gasps.


"This is where you grew up." The sound of Harry's voice jerked his head up and he stared at the younger man standing beside him, ashamed of showing such weakness to him. "Y-Yes." His voice shook as he spoke and heat flooded his face, hands clenching in on themselves as he struggled to reclaim his composure, but the ghosts of his past made the task nigh on impossible. "Come on. Let's go somewhere else, Severus, there's nothing here for us." Harry held out a hand to him and he was shocked to find himself accepting it, the strength of the boy's grip giving him the will to stand. He blinked and suddenly they were no longer in the house, but standing in a clearing, surrounded by trees and the sweet, heady scent of fertile soil and lush greenery.


"We're naked." He stated calmly, untroubled by the fact, though he had a feeling he should be. "We can't make love unless we are, can we?" Harry's voice was laced with amusement, and his plainly-spoken words sent a warm ripple of desire through Snape's body. He watched in serene satisfaction as Harry moved closer and his body pressed tightly to that of the taller man, arms encircling him. "You are beautiful, Severus. Make love to me." He lowered his head and their lips touched, lightly at first and then more insistently, tongues dancing as their hips shifted to rub their throbbing cocks together.


Snape woke with a moan caught in his throat, his skin tingling from the remembered feel of Harry's muscular body molded so close against him. He swallowed back the moan and went rigid, listening for the even breathing in the bed beside his, afraid he might have made other suggestive sounds and woken his ward. He relaxed slightly when he heard delicate snores coming from the darkness, shame flooding his face with heat, and one hand sliding beneath his blankets to lightly touch the straining length under the cotton of his pajama bottoms. 'Oh, god. Now I'm having erotic dreams about him? What the hell am I going to do!?' His hand slid lower to press his palm against his throbbing cock and he supressed a groan of need, unable to remember the last time he'd brought himself to climax.


The thought of doing so now, knowing that he was erect because of a dream about Harry, made him sick and he drew his hand away, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He struggled to force his mind into a state of emptiness, trying to wait out his arousal and let it fade away so he could take some of the Morpheus Draught and go back to sleep. "Severus?" He shuddered at the sound of Harry's sleepy voice, but managed to make his own voice calm before answering. "You should be asleep, Harry." He heard Harry shifting around in bed and opened his eyes to peer into the dark, unable to see much more than vague shapes. "I know, but I wanted to talk. Is that okay?"


Snape fought back a sigh, realizing swiftly that talking to Harry in the dark, hearing his soft voice, was not going to allow him the chance to relax. "Will it not wait until tomorrow?" He reached over in the dark to draw open the top drawer on his night stand, deftly finding what he needed despite not being able to see. "I guess, but...well, we seem to fight a lot more during the daytime, that's all. But, if you're really tired, I won't bug you." Snape drew the quill from the drawer and shifted in bed to lie on his back, swallowing thickly before speaking calmly. "No, I'm not particularly tired, Harry. What did you want to talk about?"


"Well, how come you never...you know...got married or anything?" He held the quill carefully as he reached under the covers, gritting his teeth against the pain he knew he would soon be feeling. "You want to discuss my personal life in the middle of the night? Fine. I never got married because I never met anyone I wished to share my life with, Mr. Potter." He closed his eyes, searching for that mental state of nothingness as he slid his hand into his pajama pants and pressed the sharp point of the quill against his inner thigh. "How come? Are you gay?"


He twitched a bit at the question, but pushed the quill harder until a bright point of pain appeared behind his closed eyelids. "I am asexual, Mr. Potter. I do not have sexual feelings toward either gender." Of course, just recently that had become a lie, but he was pleased at the levelness of his voice, concidering he could feel blood trickling down his thigh. "Ever!? Wow, that's...weird." The pain was doing it's job and he could feel his cock withering rapidly, all arousal diminishing before the onslaught of jagged pain. "It is unusual, Mr. Potter, but not unheard of."


"I've figured something out, you know. You only call me 'Mr. Potter' when you are annoyed or angry at me. The rest of the time you call me Harry." Snape couldn't help the faint grin of amusement that touched his lips, though he continued to dig the quill point into his thigh, knowing if he took it away Harry's voice would likely return him to full arousal. "And what would that suggest about the current situation, Mr. Potter?" Harry laughed and he heard him shifting around more, stiffening with the fear that the boy might actually climb into bed with him. "I don't think you're really mad at me. I think you just don't like talking about yourself, so you're trying to make me think you are mad at me, so I'll shut up."


Snape chuckled quietly and smirked to himself at the boy's astute observation. "Well, is it working?" He jerked when he suddenly felt Harry's lips against his cheek, biting painfully into his lower lip to hold back a cry of surprise. "Nope. Can I look at your left arm again?" From the nearness of his voice, Snape guessed Harry was kneeling beside his bed, and he swallowed hard. "Why?" 'Good, voice still calm. Who knew that spying on Voldemort would prepare me to hide my true feelings so well?' "'Cause. Please, Severus?" The softness of Harry's voice wouldn't allow Snape to deny him and he held his free arm out toward the boy, locking away a shiver when it tried to overwhelm him at the touch of Harry's hands.


"Can I ask you another question, Severus?" Snape gritted his teeth, stabbing the quill into his thigh even harder as his cock tried to respond to the feel of Harry's fingertips tracing the skin where the Dark Mark once lay. "I have no doubt that you can, Mr. Potter. But, I suppose you may, as well." He heard Harry laugh softly, then realized he could also feel the laughter against his palm, and had to resist the urge to close his hand. "You just can't help being a teacher, can you, professor? But, my question was...well..." Snape blinked at the hesitation in Harry's voice and thought he felt his lips brush the tingling palm of his hand, but the idea was so bizarre that he shoved it aside. "Spit it out, Mr. Potter."


"You don't like punishing me, do you?" The words tumbled out in a rush and then Snape distinctly felt Harry's warm mouth caress the center of his palm, the touch sending an electric current up his arm, across his chest and down to his cock. He stabbed the quill point even deeper into his abused thigh, trying desperately to counter-act the sensations Harry was creating within him. "Not true, Mr. Potter. I go into my office once I am through and have a good wank. Remember?" Harry laughed again and this time he breathed his words directly against Severus' hand, making his whole arm tremble within his grip. "You do not. I was just angry with you, I know you don't get off on hurting me. You're not that kind of person...or you would probably just cum all over me."


If he hadn't known better, Snape might have suspected that Harry was trying to turn him on, but the thought never even crossed his mind. Though the idea of cumming on Harry was far more prevailent and persistent than he would have liked, especially accompanied with the idea of Harry having requested such a thing. "No, Mr. Potter. I do not enjoy punishing you, but I will continue to do it whenever I deem it necessary." He could feel blood forming a puddle and soaking into his bed beneath his thigh, but the pain of twisting the quill was doing wonders to keep his mutinous cock in check. "Because it's helping me, right? I should tell you, I liked cleaning today. Well, the work sucked and it was hot and hard, but afterwards I felt like I'd actually done some good, you know?"


The words 'hot and hard' went careening around in Snape's head and he gritted his teeth as he felt Harry's lips travel up his arm, feathering kisses over the smooth skin there. "I've found that being constructive is a better way to release one's anger than being destructive. Voldemort never understood that." Harry paused and Snape could feel his gaze, unable to stop the twitching muscles in his forearm, nor the way his flesh broke out in goosebumps beneath those soft kisses. "Could...you punish me like that, from now on? Make me chop firewood, or clean your attic or something?" Snape chuckled and murmured softly, having to pause to swallow when he felt Harry's mouth at the crook of his elbow. "I don't have an attic, nor any use for firewood, but I will see what sort of manual labor...I can think up for you to do if you should need to be punished in the future."


"Great. Though...I guess when I'm really bad, you'll have to use the belt, huh?" Snape almost sighed at the trepidation he heard in Harry's voice, then a burst of pleasure went skittering through his brain, wiping out the words he had planned to answer with and replacing them with a groan. Harry had sucked at the inside of his elbow and then bitten gently, and Snape's body forgot all about the quill buried in his thigh. His cock leapt to life as if he were half his age, and he arched off the bed with a gasp, shuddering hard. "Harry! S-Stop!" But, his ward was doing no such thing, instead he was licking over Snape's forearm to his wrist and on to lap at his palm lightly, breath puffing out hot and swift. "I want to make you feel good, Severus. Let me, please?" Snape couldn't think to answer, he only moaned as Harry's mouth wrapped around his middle finger and sucked slowly.


'I can't...I...Oh, god...It feels so good.' He growled deep in his chest when he felt Harry's teeth around the base of his finger, biting tenderly, and his right hand plucked the quill free and dropped it before climbing higher to wrap around his aching cock. 'Can't...Can't do this.' But, the feel of Harry's mouth was driving him mad as he sucked and licked up and down over Severus' arm, nibbling at the inside of his elbow and palm. He moaned Harry's name and thrust his hips up, pressing his hot length through his fingers, surprising himself with the urgency of his need to cum. Clearly it had been a very long time since he'd done so.


"Mmm...Cum, Severus. I want you to cum, please." The breathy, needful words spoken into his palm wrenched a cry from his throat and he twitched within his hand, shuddering hard as he climaxed and his cum shot up to stain the blanket covering him. His breath was erratic and fast, heart beating wildly as he felt the force of his orgasm shake him to the core, Harry' hands latched onto his left arm as if afraid he'd jerk away. Snape drifted slowly down from his peak, feeling shame trying to overcome the satisfaction and joy that came on the heels of his climax. "You came." Harry's voice sounded awed as he whispered softly, and Snape's guilt strengthened. "I'm sorry, Harry. I shouldn't have done that."


"Why not? I wanted you to." Harry lifted his lips from Snape's palm, that feeling of being looked at returning. "Because, it's my job as your guardian not to give you things you want if they are likely to cause you harm. I should have pushed you away, it was wrong of me to let you keep doing that." He heard hurt in Harry's voice and mourned the loss when his arm was released. "I don't see what was so wrong about it, or how it could harm me, but if you don't want me to do it anymore, then I won't. In fact, I won't ever touch you again. Goodnight." He winced at the anger and pain in his ward's softly spoken words, but forced himself only to reply. "Goodnight, Mr. Potter."