A Man Cannot Control His Dreams
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
32
Views:
59,052
Reviews:
275
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
32
Views:
59,052
Reviews:
275
Recommended:
1
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.
Unexpected Proclivities
A/N: this is a bit of a longer chapter for those whose reviews consisted mostly of "ARRRGHH its so short!"
For Those who haven't seen/read it, i posted a fabulously PWP prologue entitled "He May Try, But" that consists entirely of Severus' dream as Severus experienced it. I'd love it if you'd all read that as well!
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Harry felt a brief thrill when Snape’s hands moved to his collar, and he was distracted from the Morsmorde, thinking for a moment that he would actually get to see the Potions Master even the slightest bit vulnerable. Many of the students at Hogwarts believed that Snape simply had no skin at all under his robes and tunics. After all, no one had ever seen it. However, Severus merely loosened the cloth about his neck, revealing a sliver of collarbone, before turning his full attention back to the Gryffindor in his bed.
****
Potter looked pale, almost in shock.
“Well, Mr. Potter?” Severus said, and folded his arms. “Shall I restrain you somehow or do you plan on behaving yourself?” He added a brief image to this question, and Harry’s throat worked, his pallor replaced by a warm flush of color. Severus quirked an eyebrow, intrigued. The Gryffindor didn’t seem totally averse to the idea. But perhaps that was reason enough to not do such a thing. Yes… in fact, binding the boy would probably only make it easier for Potter to reconcile later. And Severus didn’t particularly want that to be easy. But his thoughts were distracting him from the moment, and Potter was speaking.
“Do I have to chose one?” Severus couldn’t help the twitch in his mouth at that. Ever impetuous. Yet even such an advanced case of total impertinence could be… rectified. He leaned over the bed, settling his weight, and palmed Potter between the legs.
“I suppose not,” he growled. Harry gasped at the sudden intensity of sensation, and was horrified at the way his hips pushed up to meet Snape’s hand. “Though it seems your hormones will choose for you.” Harry flushed furiously as Snape continued to bait him, even as he arched up again into the touch. When it stopped all together, Harry had to gather his wits in order to register the next command: a single, cold word: “Strip.” The Gryffindor moved to comply without question, though his fingers fumbled to undo his suddenly overwhelmingly complicated knotted trousers. Snape was simply too close to him, eyes too dark and sharp, body heat surprisingly pervasive for such a cold, cold man.
Harry made a frustrated noise and Severus scoffed.
“Spare me your inanity, Potter,” he said, and waved his wand. “Evanesco.”
And just like that, Harry’s clothes vanished. The Gryffindor felt only the briefest flash of embarrassment as Severus’ eyes scored over his bare flesh, wondering in that moment what had possessed him to do such a thing at all. What had possessed him to come when called? The look in Severus’ eyes, however, when they swept up to meet his, was enough to set his whole body aflame, and all thought, all emotion was stamped into submission by it. Every emotion, that was, save for two.
Severus grabbed his ankle with a growl and yanked, spilling Harry flat on his back on the bed.
Fear.
Harry’s fingers dug into the quilt as Snape’s mouth found the bruise that still had not faded, fingernails scraping roughly over his ribs.
Lust.
“God – “ Harry cried out as Severus’ hand returned to his cock. “Nnnn… Sn- Prof- Wha- Oh-“ his words were fractured and totally unintelligible. And Snape’s temper flared.
“Merlin must you babble?” he hissed, and covered Harry’s mouth with his hand. He half expected Potter to thrash about at this, maybe even bite him, but Harry did neither. He was shocked silent, and Severus took pause at the immediacy of the reaction. This second encounter was to be a night of revelation, it would seem.
Harry’s eyelids fluttered, irises dark, his breathing labored with arousal, and Severus couldn’t help but be reminded of the fantasies he’d been wont to have about the boy. It seemed, to his increasingly reckless interest, that some of the more notable tendencies were not far off. It was, for instance, not such a stretch of the imagination that Potter would react favorably to any number of… unusual sexual tactics just then.
“Mr. Potter I must say that you seem to enjoy submission more than one would anticipate,” Severus murmured, not even having to consciously roughen his voice for the Gryffindor’s benefit – it was already there. Harry shuddered, and it was unclear to Severus whether the movement was born of humiliation, arousal, fear, or some potent combination of the three. However, they were all adequate reactions, so he did not dwell. He noted with a ripple of desire that Potter’s hands were fisted in the bedclothes, making no attempt at all to disengage the muffling hand. Perhaps the Savior of the Wizarding World needed a release from such status.
How perverse to exploit that, Severus thought, and didn’t bother subduing the feral leer that twisted up the corner of his mouth. Potter made a small noise from beneath his hand at the look. Very well.
“How does it feel, Mr. Potter?” Snape asked, resuming the stroking of his right hand while keeping his left clapped over Harry’s mouth. The Gryffindor’s fingers dug deeper into the mattress, his hips thrusting up into his hand. “To be so utterly defenseless?”
‘Like dying,’ Harry thought madly, oblivious to the way his nails dug into his palms through the fabric he clutched.
“Terrible? Excruciating? Wonderful? I profess I cannot detect the difference between your cries of pain and those of ecstasy.” Harry moaned. “I’d wondered after it before, of course,” Severus’ tone was almost conversational, even as he paused to bite briefly at a nipple. “Ever since I first heard you scream.” Harry thrashed. He felt his orgasm threatening and for a moment he prayed that Snape would just let him come so he could get the Hell out before he lost his mind permanently. “If I had to choose, however, I believe my preference would be your utter,” another bite, this time Harry’s collarbone, “silence when I penetrated you,” he gave a particularly brutal tug, “mind and body. When every inch of you was totally, “Severus hissed the next word with calculated wickedness, just as he wrung the very last bit of Harry’s self-control out of him, and the Gryffindor spilled himself: “Mine.”
****
Harry gasped greedily at the air as the slender, dominating hand slid from his lips.
“Oh. Dear. Merlin,” he panted.
“Yes, I very much prefer your silence.” Severus slapped him on the thigh. “Turn over.” Harry jumped and yelped.
“What?” His voice was hoarse. Surely Snape didn’t mean to…
“Dear me,” Severus said, crossing his arms, “you didn’t think we were done here already?” As soon as it was said, Harry realized what a truly ridiculous thought that had been. He looked up at Snape but turned his eyes away at once at the sight of the Potion’s Masters clear arousal where is strained against the fabric of his slacks. He, with such knowledge, couldn’t help but think of the sound Snape had made – that carnal, pleasured growl – and the way it had shot through Harry’s body like an arrow. He… he wanted to hear it again, but he was still so sore…
Severus was leaning over him again, kissing a path across and down his chest, and Harry broke out in goosebumps as Snape’s dark hair brushed, featherlike, across his skin.
“May I remind you, Potter, that we have all night?” Severus murmured, punctuating his words with his mouth on Potter’s flesh. His long, torturous fingers dipped into the evidence of Harry’s climax where it had spattered on the Gryffindor’s stomach and Severus considered it thoughtfully. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” He began, and held one finger up to Harry’s mouth, “if I wring two more orgasms out of that youthful body before you leave here, Potter, so be grateful, hmm?” his voice changed yet again, jumping back to a command, and Harry had the strange thought that Snape must have somehow been trained in how to use his voice so effectively. “Now. Turn over.”
And Harry did. Come twice more, that is.
****
When he was finally released some time later, it was all Harry could do to simply stand on his own two legs (which felt suspiciously like they were filled with water, not bone or muscle), let alone climb the innumerable stairs between himself and his bed. Yet, somehow he managed the incredible feat, and was so exhausted by it that he collapsed into bed, just as he was, clothed and wrapped in the invisibility cloak.
It was disconcerting, to say the least, to wake up with no apparent legs.
*
*
*
*
tbc
For Those who haven't seen/read it, i posted a fabulously PWP prologue entitled "He May Try, But" that consists entirely of Severus' dream as Severus experienced it. I'd love it if you'd all read that as well!
*
*
*
*
Harry felt a brief thrill when Snape’s hands moved to his collar, and he was distracted from the Morsmorde, thinking for a moment that he would actually get to see the Potions Master even the slightest bit vulnerable. Many of the students at Hogwarts believed that Snape simply had no skin at all under his robes and tunics. After all, no one had ever seen it. However, Severus merely loosened the cloth about his neck, revealing a sliver of collarbone, before turning his full attention back to the Gryffindor in his bed.
****
Potter looked pale, almost in shock.
“Well, Mr. Potter?” Severus said, and folded his arms. “Shall I restrain you somehow or do you plan on behaving yourself?” He added a brief image to this question, and Harry’s throat worked, his pallor replaced by a warm flush of color. Severus quirked an eyebrow, intrigued. The Gryffindor didn’t seem totally averse to the idea. But perhaps that was reason enough to not do such a thing. Yes… in fact, binding the boy would probably only make it easier for Potter to reconcile later. And Severus didn’t particularly want that to be easy. But his thoughts were distracting him from the moment, and Potter was speaking.
“Do I have to chose one?” Severus couldn’t help the twitch in his mouth at that. Ever impetuous. Yet even such an advanced case of total impertinence could be… rectified. He leaned over the bed, settling his weight, and palmed Potter between the legs.
“I suppose not,” he growled. Harry gasped at the sudden intensity of sensation, and was horrified at the way his hips pushed up to meet Snape’s hand. “Though it seems your hormones will choose for you.” Harry flushed furiously as Snape continued to bait him, even as he arched up again into the touch. When it stopped all together, Harry had to gather his wits in order to register the next command: a single, cold word: “Strip.” The Gryffindor moved to comply without question, though his fingers fumbled to undo his suddenly overwhelmingly complicated knotted trousers. Snape was simply too close to him, eyes too dark and sharp, body heat surprisingly pervasive for such a cold, cold man.
Harry made a frustrated noise and Severus scoffed.
“Spare me your inanity, Potter,” he said, and waved his wand. “Evanesco.”
And just like that, Harry’s clothes vanished. The Gryffindor felt only the briefest flash of embarrassment as Severus’ eyes scored over his bare flesh, wondering in that moment what had possessed him to do such a thing at all. What had possessed him to come when called? The look in Severus’ eyes, however, when they swept up to meet his, was enough to set his whole body aflame, and all thought, all emotion was stamped into submission by it. Every emotion, that was, save for two.
Severus grabbed his ankle with a growl and yanked, spilling Harry flat on his back on the bed.
Fear.
Harry’s fingers dug into the quilt as Snape’s mouth found the bruise that still had not faded, fingernails scraping roughly over his ribs.
Lust.
“God – “ Harry cried out as Severus’ hand returned to his cock. “Nnnn… Sn- Prof- Wha- Oh-“ his words were fractured and totally unintelligible. And Snape’s temper flared.
“Merlin must you babble?” he hissed, and covered Harry’s mouth with his hand. He half expected Potter to thrash about at this, maybe even bite him, but Harry did neither. He was shocked silent, and Severus took pause at the immediacy of the reaction. This second encounter was to be a night of revelation, it would seem.
Harry’s eyelids fluttered, irises dark, his breathing labored with arousal, and Severus couldn’t help but be reminded of the fantasies he’d been wont to have about the boy. It seemed, to his increasingly reckless interest, that some of the more notable tendencies were not far off. It was, for instance, not such a stretch of the imagination that Potter would react favorably to any number of… unusual sexual tactics just then.
“Mr. Potter I must say that you seem to enjoy submission more than one would anticipate,” Severus murmured, not even having to consciously roughen his voice for the Gryffindor’s benefit – it was already there. Harry shuddered, and it was unclear to Severus whether the movement was born of humiliation, arousal, fear, or some potent combination of the three. However, they were all adequate reactions, so he did not dwell. He noted with a ripple of desire that Potter’s hands were fisted in the bedclothes, making no attempt at all to disengage the muffling hand. Perhaps the Savior of the Wizarding World needed a release from such status.
How perverse to exploit that, Severus thought, and didn’t bother subduing the feral leer that twisted up the corner of his mouth. Potter made a small noise from beneath his hand at the look. Very well.
“How does it feel, Mr. Potter?” Snape asked, resuming the stroking of his right hand while keeping his left clapped over Harry’s mouth. The Gryffindor’s fingers dug deeper into the mattress, his hips thrusting up into his hand. “To be so utterly defenseless?”
‘Like dying,’ Harry thought madly, oblivious to the way his nails dug into his palms through the fabric he clutched.
“Terrible? Excruciating? Wonderful? I profess I cannot detect the difference between your cries of pain and those of ecstasy.” Harry moaned. “I’d wondered after it before, of course,” Severus’ tone was almost conversational, even as he paused to bite briefly at a nipple. “Ever since I first heard you scream.” Harry thrashed. He felt his orgasm threatening and for a moment he prayed that Snape would just let him come so he could get the Hell out before he lost his mind permanently. “If I had to choose, however, I believe my preference would be your utter,” another bite, this time Harry’s collarbone, “silence when I penetrated you,” he gave a particularly brutal tug, “mind and body. When every inch of you was totally, “Severus hissed the next word with calculated wickedness, just as he wrung the very last bit of Harry’s self-control out of him, and the Gryffindor spilled himself: “Mine.”
****
Harry gasped greedily at the air as the slender, dominating hand slid from his lips.
“Oh. Dear. Merlin,” he panted.
“Yes, I very much prefer your silence.” Severus slapped him on the thigh. “Turn over.” Harry jumped and yelped.
“What?” His voice was hoarse. Surely Snape didn’t mean to…
“Dear me,” Severus said, crossing his arms, “you didn’t think we were done here already?” As soon as it was said, Harry realized what a truly ridiculous thought that had been. He looked up at Snape but turned his eyes away at once at the sight of the Potion’s Masters clear arousal where is strained against the fabric of his slacks. He, with such knowledge, couldn’t help but think of the sound Snape had made – that carnal, pleasured growl – and the way it had shot through Harry’s body like an arrow. He… he wanted to hear it again, but he was still so sore…
Severus was leaning over him again, kissing a path across and down his chest, and Harry broke out in goosebumps as Snape’s dark hair brushed, featherlike, across his skin.
“May I remind you, Potter, that we have all night?” Severus murmured, punctuating his words with his mouth on Potter’s flesh. His long, torturous fingers dipped into the evidence of Harry’s climax where it had spattered on the Gryffindor’s stomach and Severus considered it thoughtfully. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” He began, and held one finger up to Harry’s mouth, “if I wring two more orgasms out of that youthful body before you leave here, Potter, so be grateful, hmm?” his voice changed yet again, jumping back to a command, and Harry had the strange thought that Snape must have somehow been trained in how to use his voice so effectively. “Now. Turn over.”
And Harry did. Come twice more, that is.
****
When he was finally released some time later, it was all Harry could do to simply stand on his own two legs (which felt suspiciously like they were filled with water, not bone or muscle), let alone climb the innumerable stairs between himself and his bed. Yet, somehow he managed the incredible feat, and was so exhausted by it that he collapsed into bed, just as he was, clothed and wrapped in the invisibility cloak.
It was disconcerting, to say the least, to wake up with no apparent legs.
*
*
*
*
tbc