Barbarism to Decadence.

The next few days passed in relative peace, owing much to the fact that he never stumbled across Phineas in the castle or at meals. He began to believe that his reaction to the boy had been a fluke, some random misfire in his brain, nothing more. A part of himself knew he was in denial, but as long as he didn't have to be around the pretty Slytherin, then it didn't matter if he was in denial or not. At least, until Phineas showed up at his door at a hair past nine on Wednesday night.

He stood staring at the boy silently, his heart racing and his palms suddenly sweaty, his body responding forcibly to the boy's presence despite his silent self-flagellation. "Can I come in?" The lyrical notes of the boy's voice threatened to rob him of his breath and he mutely stepped back, allowing the small, delicate wizard into his suite. His chest was too tight, seeing the petite Slytherin in his rooms, watching him peruse the books in his case, aching for the caress he sent skimming over the back of the sofa. It was all too much and he nearly broke under the strain of it.

His desire for Severus was always just as strong, but the man's lack of response made it far easier for him to keep himself in check, not to mention the fact that he never felt so sickened by his lust for the older wizard. The combination of his disgust in himself and his intense longing for the blond boy was working like wind and sand to rapidly erode the rock of his willpower. He exhaled suddenly and rushed to his kitchen, needing something other than the teenager to focus on. "Would you like tea?"

He heard the soft hum in response and his knees threatened to tumble him to the floor, that soft, sleepy sort of sigh was precisely what he imagined the boy would sound like right after sex. He had to clamp his own throat against the groan that wanted to escape, his hands trembling as he filled the kettle and put it on to boil. He leaned over the stove, his head hanging, taking deep, calming breaths as he struggled with a libido that had been locked away for seventeen years. "Are you okay, professor?"

He nearly jumped a foot in the air when that sweet voice whispered from directly behind him and this time his moan was too quick for his reflexes. He sank to the floor and pressed his face against his stove, begging his body to stop it's infernal humming. "Vance?" This gentle, caring whisper wrenched a sob from him and then he was shaking hard as small hands found his face and caressed his jaw softly. "I'm sorry....Gods, please forgive me, Phineas. I don't know why I...I am affected by you this way...I've never...I swear...I'm sorry."

His rambling, half-coherent diatribe was silenced by the feel of small, hungry lips pressed to his own, and then a dainty tongue flicked at his mouth, darting rapidly like that of a serpent. He wanted to pull away, but his arms lifted the boy into his lap and he hugged him close, almost panting with desire as he opened his lips to welcome the sweet-tasting tongue. Something struck him familiar about the taste, but even more so, it was the scent of the petite wizard nestled against him. Even as he lost himself in the taboo embrace, the back of his mind was sounding a cry to his conscious mind.

He broke off the kiss when they'd both run out of air and his head dipped into
Phineas' neck, breathing in deeply of the boy's scent and trying to figure out why it brought a sense of déjà vu and increased need. His hands explored the graceful back, and he nibbled tenderly at the velvety skin just behind one perfectly-formed ear. He shuddered when he felt the boy's breath against his own ear, and then heard the breathy whisper, which both electrified him and sent him spiraling into shame. "You feel so good, Vance."

There was only one person who he truly wanted to hear those words from, and it wasn't a boy half his age with whom he shouldn't even be contemplating such things, let alone actually doing them. He groaned deep in his chest and lifted Phineas to his feet, scrambling up and pressing himself back against the stove, breathing hard and ragged. "I'm sorry, Phineas. I promise you that I will not allow my inappropriate feelings to overwhelm...Oh....Merlin!"

Instead of a simple kiss, this time the implacable, wicked little imp merely reached up and placed his hands over the throbbing bulge in the front of Vance's jeans, fingers stroking over it as he looked up curiously into the older wizard's face. Vance completely forgot what else he was going to say, those small hands seeming to find every sensitive spot on his long-neglected length. Before he knew what was going on, his jeans were open and the pretty Slytherin was holding onto his cock, staring at it curiously.

"Phi...Phineas...Please..." He whimpered quietly, clutching the stove to keep from slithering back to his knees, no longer sure what he was begging the cherub-faced boy for. Periwinkle eyes moved up to lock on his, and suddenly, he got the strange, yet not unpleasant, sensation of an alien mind oozing through his memories and thoughts. His breath stuttered harshly in his chest and he cried out as the boy's lips made contact with his pulsing crown, a million motes of light flashing behind his eyes. The mental caress was somehow soothing even as Phineas' tongue darted to tease the slit in his head, then swirled around the pounding, feverish flesh.

He slipped into a daze of sensation, all rational thought destroyed by the bliss of the wicked angel's mouth moving over him. Until this moment, he'd been the only one to touch his body, the only one to bring himself pleasure, ever since he'd kissed Severus seventeen years ago. He knew part of that was his brutal introduction to sex by the Death-Eaters, but most of it was the fierce loyalty to his savior. He'd given him his first kiss, and wanted him to have all of his other firsts, as well. These thoughts came as flashes in a mist of pleasure, there and gone before he could grab them as an anchor.

He moaned and whimpered, trembling with the awesomely skillful ministrations of the young lips and tongue as they climbed up and down his length, then settled to focus their delightful attention on his balls. He could hear his own almost desperate keening as the boy brought him to heights of ecstasy he felt sure could easily kill him. He could do nothing in the onslaught of sensation, his body weakened by his pleasure and his mind lost to the fog of impending climax. When he felt sure he would go mad, or else die, Phineas wrapped his heavenly mouth around the head of his cock and sucked so hard he thought he might turn inside out.

Instead, he exploded violently with a scream that sounded rough and animalistic to his ears, his toes curling, hair standing on end and every muscle in his body snapping painfully taut. He jittered on his feet as if being electrocuted, hands snapping open and closed around the handle of the oven door and his breath condensing in his chest. It was too much, too intense, it was like a plane crash, an earthquake, a tropical storm and a tidal wave all at once. It was a thousand wonderful, satisfying deaths that hit him all at once and left him collapsed on the kitchen floor with darkness jerking him under.

------

Severus/Phineas stood back from the disaster he had caused, licking the lingering taste of Vance's cum from his lips and staring at the supine wizard with fear galloping like a herd of buffalo through his chest. He hadn't meant to kill him! What sort of man has that sort of reaction to a simple blow-job? He leapt forward to check his breathing and pulse, a tremor of relief shuddering through his small frame when both were present and even. He curled for a moment against the young wizard's chest and smiled to himself impishly.

He knew he shouldn't have done it, would regret it later, but for the moment he felt as satisfied as the cat who'd been snacking on the family canary and the cream to boot. The kiss was like a dream come to life, literally, for the taste of the brunette's mouth had called to mind some dim and distant memory, one he'd buried from his early years with the Death Eaters. He couldn't form it fully in his mind, but Vance's kiss brought back a glimmer of some boy who'd kissed him with that same passion and flavor. He had shoved the memory away to savor the reality, however, and then when Vance had pulled away, his baser desires had taken ahold of him.

He reached up and touched his swollen lips, smiling a little more as he felt their tingle, still filled with the delicious sensation of the handsome professor's beautiful cock. It had stunned him to see it, so perfectly formed, as if molded by human hands with a master's skill. That slight, graceful curve, the pulsing veins and velvet-soft flesh, hot and throbbing in his hands. He'd been unable to resist possessing it utterly, and he was so glad he had. He may never get another chance to be with the lovely young wizard, but at least he would have the memory of his face lost in the throes of ecstasy, the taste of his climax and the sound of his orgasmic scream. The man was flawless and breathtaking in orgasm, and Snape would have that for as long as he lived.

He slid away from the sleeping form and cast a spell to float him from the kitchen floor to the living room sofa, where he ever so carefully tucked the sleeping length back in his jeans and zipped them up. He turned off the fire under the kettle, and slipped from the man's suite, figuring he could try talking to him about the novel another night. After all, he'd probably sleep for a good long while after that massive climax. It was a very devilishly happy Phineas/Severus that locked and warded the Potions professor's door that night, completely oblivious to the Gryffindor witch tucked into the shadows nearby watching.