A Man Cannot Control His Dreams
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
32
Views:
59,066
Reviews:
275
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
32
Views:
59,066
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.
A New Desire
A/N: by request, I'm going to make a mailing list for updates to this story. If you'd like to be on it, please send an email to floconcarne@yahoo.com with the subject "Snarry"
Hazelaar: What a nice review! And thanks for writing it, as it was #200!
kunitsu: thank you so much! I am forever trying to improve my writing style
Jilliane: I'm flattered to know you're so effected ;)
Nikte: thanks for the e-cake it sounds delicious!
SenselessLust: See you on saturday :P
To everyone else, thank you for the support and keep reading! Good god, i'm late for class!
*
*
*
*
Severus rested his forehead against Harry’s shoulder for a moment, his breath hot and heavy, but leveling, and Harry disengaged his hands from the headboard. They fell, stone-like, against the pillows. In fact, Harry’s whole body felt unnaturally heavy, right down to his feet wrapped around Severus’ hips. When Severus coaxed them free and moved to the side, laying beside him, their eyes met in the mirror.
Severus quirked an eyebrow at the incongruous image: they looked, for the moment, rather like a metaphor – perhaps the wolf and the lamb. But in this case, Severus thought, the lamb was entirely aware of his company.
“Quite a pair we make,” he said, and Harry grinned weakly, but closed his eyes. “Too much for you, I see.” Severus turned on his side, running the back of his knuckles along Harry’s ribs. “Too much for most, I would think.” He sat up.
The appropriate cleaning spells had become a habit by then, and Severus performed them with all the attention of an automaton. First his clothes, then his person, followed by Potter, and finally the sheets. Harry watched silently from the bed through half-lidded eyes, waiting patiently for the job to be done, before pulling the blanket up and over himself. Almost charmingly self-conscious, Severus thought, though equally close to aggravating. Potter was a creature of contradiction at his core.
****
The conjured mirror disintegrated back into mist when Snape cast the counter spell, dispersing into a fog, a brief shimmer, and finally into nothing at all. He could have simply summoned the mirror from his bathroom, of course, but as with most of the castle’s mirrors, it was enchanted. And enchanted mirrors tended to socialize not only with each other, but with the portraits as well, making them what one could call massive security risks. More than that, even. Summoning an enchanted mirror for such a purpose would have been an act of deliberate confession; something Severus tended to avoid in all facets of his life.
He turned back towards the bed, meaning to send Potter on his way, but found with only mild surprise that he’d been preempted.
The Gryffindor was curled up in the middle of the mattress, hair a veritable rats-nest of tangles, face rosy and passive with post-coital glow. Severus looked at him laying there, with his lashes a dark smudge against his cheeks and his lips bitten to an unforgivable pout, and wanted to let him stay. Almost wanted to…. ask him to stay. The notion was at once inescapable.
But no, he couldn’t. Of course not. What foolishness.
The moment passed, and Severus cleared his throat purposefully. Not so much as a twitch from the boy. So Potter had actually fallen asleep. Shockingly efficient of him, yet easily corrected.
But then… a few minutes couldn’t hurt. Surely it was no later than half-past ten: early yet. So Severus lay back down beside the quiescent form, his weight causing too slight a dip to disturb the boy much. However, it was apparently just enough to make him turn sleepily over, curl a hand into Severus’ shirt, and bury his face in Severus’ neck. The boy hummed softly, a brief, vaguely contented sound, and Severus would never admit to the Goosebumps that raised the hair on his neck at the warm touch of Potter’s breath.
****
Somewhere near midnight, Harry awoke to a soft admonition in his ear.
“Must I remind you, Potter, that you cannot stay here?” The rumbling tones were almost gentle, and he didn’t open his eyes.
“Is that a real question?” he murmured, still half asleep, burying his face deeper against Snape’s neck. The Potions Master went very still. “Don’t make me go,” he continued, voice quietly muffled, still floundering in sleep. Snape’s fingers found their way into his hair, and it was soothing, really, right up until the soft touch turned into a fist. He gasped, shocked awake, as his head was jerked back.
“Are you talking back to me?” Severus growled, maneuvering them easily so Harry lay beneath him, neck arched back by his grip. But Harry only squirmed against him in response, and he was forced to recognize his oversight: Perhaps the best way to get Potter back to his dormitory was not to physically antagonize him in an indirectly sexual way. Perhaps such a thing would backfire. He released the tangled hair at once, but Harry left his head tilted back against the pillows.
“Only you would try to send me away like that,” he panted, shifting between the soft bed below and the warm body above, and Severus sighed. Oh, to be a teenager again: with an inexhaustible libido and a one-track mind. The boy couldn’t even be threatened properly anymore. He lifted himself off of the Gryffindor with care, and sat up against the headboard.
“Do accept my apologies. Now get out,” he said, purposefully keeping his voice hard and flat.
Harry passed a hand over his face, and propped himself up on one elbow.
“But… I thought maybe… well, It is holiday…” he trailed off, each word making him feel more foolish than the last as Severus’ expression remained aloof.
“You thought maybe you’d be welcome for the night?” Severus shot back. “That your powers of subtlety are such that no one would suspect a thing?”
“I… no. I guess not.”
“Lo, he can be taught.” Harry flushed at the jibe, and slid over to the edge of the bed, mindful of his nakedness.
“Mind if I get dressed first?” he asked with a sigh, sounding very weary. Severus didn’t dignify this impertinence with an answer, and instead simply accio’d Harry’s wand. It flew to his waiting hand from somewhere near the entryway, and Harry took it without comment.
His things were, as was often the case, astoundingly strewn about, and he summoned each bit separately to avoid being buried by them flying from all directions.
****
Severus, leaning back against the headboard with hands folded and feet crossed, watched the Gryffindor dress. It wasn’t until Harry turned nervously to face him that the silence lifted.
“As always, button your collar,” Severus murmured, tilting his head to the side. Harry’s hand went automatically to his throat, but he didn’t blush, and Severus quietly seethed at the loss. Something else, then, unless the boy was suddenly immune…
“Shall I – “ Harry cleared his throat, “shall I just go, then?”
“Fitting though it might be, I won’t have you sleeping on my floor.”
That garnered the reaction Severus had been denied, and he leered inwardly in triumph. Harry ran a hand through his hair, flustered.
“Right. Sorry,” he muttered, and threw his cloak over his shoulders. “I’ll, ah, see you tomorrow.”
“Perhaps,” Severus replied, even as the door clicked shut under invisible hands.
****
By quarter past twelve, Harry was back in his own bed, resignedly prodding his body with the tip of his wand, healing anything conspicuous. By one, he was fast asleep, curled around his pillow. Stories below his tower dorm, however, Severus lay awake, quietly contemplating the silence.
*
*
*
*
TBC
Hazelaar: What a nice review! And thanks for writing it, as it was #200!
kunitsu: thank you so much! I am forever trying to improve my writing style
Jilliane: I'm flattered to know you're so effected ;)
Nikte: thanks for the e-cake it sounds delicious!
SenselessLust: See you on saturday :P
To everyone else, thank you for the support and keep reading! Good god, i'm late for class!
*
*
*
*
Severus rested his forehead against Harry’s shoulder for a moment, his breath hot and heavy, but leveling, and Harry disengaged his hands from the headboard. They fell, stone-like, against the pillows. In fact, Harry’s whole body felt unnaturally heavy, right down to his feet wrapped around Severus’ hips. When Severus coaxed them free and moved to the side, laying beside him, their eyes met in the mirror.
Severus quirked an eyebrow at the incongruous image: they looked, for the moment, rather like a metaphor – perhaps the wolf and the lamb. But in this case, Severus thought, the lamb was entirely aware of his company.
“Quite a pair we make,” he said, and Harry grinned weakly, but closed his eyes. “Too much for you, I see.” Severus turned on his side, running the back of his knuckles along Harry’s ribs. “Too much for most, I would think.” He sat up.
The appropriate cleaning spells had become a habit by then, and Severus performed them with all the attention of an automaton. First his clothes, then his person, followed by Potter, and finally the sheets. Harry watched silently from the bed through half-lidded eyes, waiting patiently for the job to be done, before pulling the blanket up and over himself. Almost charmingly self-conscious, Severus thought, though equally close to aggravating. Potter was a creature of contradiction at his core.
****
The conjured mirror disintegrated back into mist when Snape cast the counter spell, dispersing into a fog, a brief shimmer, and finally into nothing at all. He could have simply summoned the mirror from his bathroom, of course, but as with most of the castle’s mirrors, it was enchanted. And enchanted mirrors tended to socialize not only with each other, but with the portraits as well, making them what one could call massive security risks. More than that, even. Summoning an enchanted mirror for such a purpose would have been an act of deliberate confession; something Severus tended to avoid in all facets of his life.
He turned back towards the bed, meaning to send Potter on his way, but found with only mild surprise that he’d been preempted.
The Gryffindor was curled up in the middle of the mattress, hair a veritable rats-nest of tangles, face rosy and passive with post-coital glow. Severus looked at him laying there, with his lashes a dark smudge against his cheeks and his lips bitten to an unforgivable pout, and wanted to let him stay. Almost wanted to…. ask him to stay. The notion was at once inescapable.
But no, he couldn’t. Of course not. What foolishness.
The moment passed, and Severus cleared his throat purposefully. Not so much as a twitch from the boy. So Potter had actually fallen asleep. Shockingly efficient of him, yet easily corrected.
But then… a few minutes couldn’t hurt. Surely it was no later than half-past ten: early yet. So Severus lay back down beside the quiescent form, his weight causing too slight a dip to disturb the boy much. However, it was apparently just enough to make him turn sleepily over, curl a hand into Severus’ shirt, and bury his face in Severus’ neck. The boy hummed softly, a brief, vaguely contented sound, and Severus would never admit to the Goosebumps that raised the hair on his neck at the warm touch of Potter’s breath.
****
Somewhere near midnight, Harry awoke to a soft admonition in his ear.
“Must I remind you, Potter, that you cannot stay here?” The rumbling tones were almost gentle, and he didn’t open his eyes.
“Is that a real question?” he murmured, still half asleep, burying his face deeper against Snape’s neck. The Potions Master went very still. “Don’t make me go,” he continued, voice quietly muffled, still floundering in sleep. Snape’s fingers found their way into his hair, and it was soothing, really, right up until the soft touch turned into a fist. He gasped, shocked awake, as his head was jerked back.
“Are you talking back to me?” Severus growled, maneuvering them easily so Harry lay beneath him, neck arched back by his grip. But Harry only squirmed against him in response, and he was forced to recognize his oversight: Perhaps the best way to get Potter back to his dormitory was not to physically antagonize him in an indirectly sexual way. Perhaps such a thing would backfire. He released the tangled hair at once, but Harry left his head tilted back against the pillows.
“Only you would try to send me away like that,” he panted, shifting between the soft bed below and the warm body above, and Severus sighed. Oh, to be a teenager again: with an inexhaustible libido and a one-track mind. The boy couldn’t even be threatened properly anymore. He lifted himself off of the Gryffindor with care, and sat up against the headboard.
“Do accept my apologies. Now get out,” he said, purposefully keeping his voice hard and flat.
Harry passed a hand over his face, and propped himself up on one elbow.
“But… I thought maybe… well, It is holiday…” he trailed off, each word making him feel more foolish than the last as Severus’ expression remained aloof.
“You thought maybe you’d be welcome for the night?” Severus shot back. “That your powers of subtlety are such that no one would suspect a thing?”
“I… no. I guess not.”
“Lo, he can be taught.” Harry flushed at the jibe, and slid over to the edge of the bed, mindful of his nakedness.
“Mind if I get dressed first?” he asked with a sigh, sounding very weary. Severus didn’t dignify this impertinence with an answer, and instead simply accio’d Harry’s wand. It flew to his waiting hand from somewhere near the entryway, and Harry took it without comment.
His things were, as was often the case, astoundingly strewn about, and he summoned each bit separately to avoid being buried by them flying from all directions.
****
Severus, leaning back against the headboard with hands folded and feet crossed, watched the Gryffindor dress. It wasn’t until Harry turned nervously to face him that the silence lifted.
“As always, button your collar,” Severus murmured, tilting his head to the side. Harry’s hand went automatically to his throat, but he didn’t blush, and Severus quietly seethed at the loss. Something else, then, unless the boy was suddenly immune…
“Shall I – “ Harry cleared his throat, “shall I just go, then?”
“Fitting though it might be, I won’t have you sleeping on my floor.”
That garnered the reaction Severus had been denied, and he leered inwardly in triumph. Harry ran a hand through his hair, flustered.
“Right. Sorry,” he muttered, and threw his cloak over his shoulders. “I’ll, ah, see you tomorrow.”
“Perhaps,” Severus replied, even as the door clicked shut under invisible hands.
****
By quarter past twelve, Harry was back in his own bed, resignedly prodding his body with the tip of his wand, healing anything conspicuous. By one, he was fast asleep, curled around his pillow. Stories below his tower dorm, however, Severus lay awake, quietly contemplating the silence.
*
*
*
*
TBC