Cake

A/N: This is still a Harry/Snape, but in this chapter (and possibly others) there will also be mention of Snape/Albus.


Memories


It’s well into January before the Band finds themselves back in the studio. The Order’s eight album is scheduled for release at the end of summer, and they have a lot of time to make up. James is on drums, tapping away and listening to himself in the headphones. He is a thin, withdrawn man who acts cocky but keeps mostly to himself. He isn’t especially brilliant at it, but he has the right appeal for a drummer. A bad ass. His doobie is burning out on the ashtray in front of him as he nods slowly and taps out a tight rhythm on the edge of a snare.

Peter, the keyboardist is sitting in a corner, thumbing nervously through a magazine. He has already recorded his contribution to the CD previously because his panic attacks and anxiety won’t allow him to do much in the way of idle time. If he isn’t constantly doing something, he starts to go stir crazy. Even now, he feels as if he should be moving, instead of sitting here, not reading the latest issue of Rolling Stone. Incidentally, he has the fewest fans of anyone in the band.

Remus is working with the production assistant, getting the bass right on this one particular track. It sounds good, but something needs to be tweaked. It should flow right alongside the percussion, but instead of working with James directly, Remus is working off a recording of James because James is being moody today. He always gets like that after smoking herb.

Inside a separate recording booth, James is singing slowly and deeply, one hand holding a microphone, the other holding a cigarette. His hair is held back by a pink and yellow Scrunchie and he is wearing an orange Von Dutch shirt with black khakis and Timberlands. Beside him, Snape accompanies on the guitar. The song is low and soft, the music melodic and quiet, but the lyrics speak of death and deterioration. Deviant behavior and sacrifice. Sirius’ voice takes on an especially passionate quality as he sings of loneliness and blackness and images he has seen while under the influence of acid and fear, etc. Shadows hollow out his closed eyes, and then he stops. The production crew glances up in his direction and Snape’s hand pauses on the strings. The only sound in the recording booth is Sirius’ ragged breathing – and then, in an apparent rage, he kicks the microphone stand to the ground and tears out of the booth, stalking off and leaving a stunned group. Well…semi-stunned…(Sirius has outbursts like this at least once every recording session) and with staring eyes, the rest of the group silently elects Snape to go and see after him. God, it should be anybody but him, but he places his instrt dot down gently and goes, reluctantly, to coax the rock star back into the studio.

“Black!” Snape calls down an empty corridor. “Black, where are you?”

The sound of harsh breathing catches Snape’s attention and he heads towards the bathroom, where the door is hanging open and Sirius is inside, perched on the edge of the sink, snorting a jagged line of coke off a mirror. Snape, the levelheaded one, pulls shut the door and approaches the other man, heat in his face.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” his voice is dangerous and low.
Sirius coughs a laugh, when he’s able, then turns unfocused eyes on Snape. “What do you mean, good friend?”
“Do you want to get caught doing this? End up back in rehab? End up back in the tabloids?”
“I don’t give two shits about the tabloids, Snape.”
Snape takes a moment to calm himself, closing his eyes, counting to ten. “Listen,” He says when he’s opened them again. “I’d like to finish this record by deadline. Not drag it out another four months because you prefer doing this to making music.”
Sirius snorts a laugh. “Fuck you, Snape. I care more about the music than anyone here!”
“Don’t generalize.” Snape crosses his arms. “You’re a mess. You need to prioritize.”
Black makes a face. “Me? Prioritize? You’re one to talk, Severus.”
Impatient, Snape shrugs. “What does that mean?”
Sirius grins slowly. “Albus has been calling more frequently.”
Snape pretends not to understand. “What?”
“Albus. You agent. Your ex…”
Frightened and discomforted by this line of discussion, Snape takes a step back. “I don’t have time for this…”
“He’s been inquiring after you, Severus. And where have you been, hmm?” Sirius is positively focused now; it’s the drug, no doubt. “Where have you been, Severus? Shacking up with that little twat, Harry?”
Snape feels his face burning with heat. He wants nothing more than to pummel Sirius’ face in but he reminds himself that he isn’t that type of guy. No, he never settles disputes in this way. Instead, he raises his middle finger.
“Fuck you, Black.” He says it in a quiet voice and turns to leave before Sirius grabs his and pnd pulls him forward.
His ashen face is unshaven and his gray eyes look sunken and sad. Severus finds he has no sympathy as the man slumps backward a bit.
“I’m sorry. I know you hate me, man. I’m an asshole. I didn’t mean…”
Sighing and straightening his dark button-down, Snape rolls his eyes. “Sure. Whatever, Black.”
“No.” Sirius cocks his head so that he may meet Severus’s eyes. “No. I mean it. I’m so sorry. I…that song…the one we were doing. It…it always gets to me…”
Severus simply stares, so Sirius continues. “I remember…a while back…when I was sort of sleeping with Remus and you were still having the affair…with Albus…shit seemed so much easier then. We just kind of did what we wanted. We were like children. I didn’t drink or snort so much because I had him, and James was seeing that girl with those emerald eyes, Lily. She used to braid my hair. Do you remember? James used to call you names and shit and play tricks on you. Albus used to be kinda like a dad, keeping us in line. It was all fucked up, but it was still cool. It was like…home. I miss it…”

Unsure what to say, Severus turns away from Sirius, considering his words carefully. “Um. Albus is married. But you knew that. He has something to the tune of twelve children.”
Sirius chuckles nervously, in spite of himself. “No shit…”
Severus continues to face away from Sirius, unwilling to display any emotion. “I decided we should end it after I realized. And then, I found out who his wife is, and…the fairy tale ended indefinitely and rather abruptly.”
Sirius comes around to face Snape, eyes dancing skittishly across his face. “Who is she, Severus?”
Snape quirks up one corner of his lips. “You really don’t know?”
Black shakes his head, so Severus takes a long breath. “Minerva McGonagall, Head and CEO of Indigo records.”
Sirius swallows, then gets a goofy look on his face. “But that’s impossible, Snape.” He whispers. “ Indigo is our label.”
Snape smirks, pretending it doesn’t bother him, still. “Yes. That is precisely why I ended it.” His voice is like chocolate silk, deep and tantalizing. “She could crush us in the palm of her hand and let us fall like dust at her feet to be carried away on the wind. If its caviar and Chablis today, tomorrow it will be sardines and tap water… ”
Sirius watches Snape, taking in the words. He seems to have been affected by what Snape has said, but now, he coughs into his balled fist. “Wow.” He finally murmurs. “Not only is that scandalous but it reads like some kind of tragic soap opera. I guess you did a good thing…breaking it off…”
Snape doesn’t feel like he did a good thing, but he’s glad Sirius understands the severity at least. Fixing a frown on his lips he turns, finally, to face Sirius.
“We need to finish this track as I have plans that cannot be postponed.”
Sirius nods, slowly. “Right. Well…”
“And if you feel the need to have another emotional breakdown,” Snape says, clearing all traces of melancholy from his voice. “you you please not ruin sound equipment? Soon they’ll be billing us for it.”
Black grumbles as he moves past Snape through the threshold.

* * * * * * * * * *

It is well into the evening when The Order finishes their session for the day. James takes off on his Harley, Peter catches a taxi, Sirius and Remus go off together in Remus’ Mercedes, and Snape lets thmo dmo driver take him to an undisclosed location where he then takes a taxi to another part of town. When he arrives, he goes to the elevator and takes it up to the eleventh floor. The room is at the end of a long hallway, and he opens the door with a cardkey.

Tentatively, he steps inside, listening for signs of life. “Are you alive?” He jokingly inquires in a serious voice before the boy comes seemingly out of nowhere, throwing himself in his arms. Instinctively, his own arms encircle him.
“Hi.”
Snape swallows, looking into the boy’s eyes. Then, he releases him, fighting against the ever-present wall around his heart.
“I need a drink.”
“I knew you would, so I made it for you.” He goes quickly to the bar and comes back with the drink in hand, cold and perfect. Snape feels a grin threatening his lips.
“How did you know?”
Harry makes an attempt to smooth back his unruly locks. “How was work?”
Snape sighs and downs the drink in one gulp, letting its dull ache warm his belly. “It was work.” His eyes follow the boy around the room. He is beautiful, lithe, pale, young, dark-haired, soft-spoken. Snape is picturing him without his jeans and T-shirt. “Come here.” He tells Harry and the boy obeys, wordlessly.
They are standing face to face, Snape only mere inches taller. The boy slides his hands through Snape’s hair, the black locks flowing freely through his fingers like silk. He bends his head and intends to kiss the boy’s lips but pause and decide to go for the neck instead.

His tongue drags along the lightly salty skin, up against the underside of his mandible and up along it to his ear. He sucks the lobe into his mouth and chews on it, gently. Harry releases a sigh and rests a hand against Snape’s chest. His eyes are already shut. In another instant, Snape is ripping the shirt violently from the boy’s body and staring at his dark nipples as they harden under his scrutiny.
There is a foot of space between them and Snape watches silently, the fast rise and fall of Harry’s chest. His face is flushed and he looks equal parts frightened and excited. Severus likes this combination.
“Take off those jeans and whatever else you might be wearing.” Snape walks away from him, tugging his own shirt over his head and undoing the buttons on his black slacks. His gaze drifts over to where the patio curtain is opened. He only now remembers to appraise the beautiful suite, its vast square footage, the Asian rugs, Italian leather upholstery. The view is incredible. His eyes finally settle back on a naked Harry, his long gangly stretch of eggshell skin, soft as a baby, but so hard in some places, it might be considered sinful. Snape likes it when Harry’s cock is erect. It makes him feel less guilty about Harry’s age. Anyone with an erection this big should be able to vote.

When they finally embrace, they are both naked and Snape is holding onto Harry’s taut ass, cupping the cheeks in both hands as Harry plants soft kisses on the man’s shoulder, moaning as their erections brush together.

Snape lifts the youth into his arms and carries him to the bedroom. There, he hoists him up further and lets Harry’s legs wrap around his waist.
“I missed you today.” Harry murmurs against the man’s skin. “I did nothing but think of you.”
Severus meets his gaze. “And did youchouch yourself?”
Harry blushes and nods, slowly. “Yes. I did.”
Snape grins as he settles himself and Harry down onto the bed. “What a naughty boy you are.”
Snape is sitting with Harry straddling him, facing him.
“There were phone calls today. I didn’t answer.”
“Good boy.” Snape says, holding Harry closer so his cock rests within the cleft of the boy’s ass. “Who was it?”
Harry’s eyes are drifting shut. “Dunno…didn’t leave a name…”
Snape already knows who it was but doesn’t bother to think about it. Instead, he begins rocking his hips against Harry, kissing his neck, his shoulders until Harry whispers softly.
“Kiss me.”
Snape looks up to regard him. “What?”
Harry smirks. “Kiss me. On my mouth. I want to taste you…”
Snape obeys, raising his lips to the boy’s and opening wide when he feels the wet tongue sliding sensuously against his own. Harry moans softly, and Snape reaches down to toy with the boy’s erection, jerking a fist up and down it slowly until it begins to leak pre-cum. With his index finger, he gathers the clear viscous liquid and uses it to reach beneath Harry to probe his opening. Harry begins to move his hips when Snape enters him and he starts to moan for more.

In another instant, Snape is inside Harry and the boy is rocking back and forth on his lap, impaling himself further on the thick hard staff.
“Ah…Ah…Severus…”
Snape leans back on his elbows, black hair spilling ont onto the comforter as Harry fucks himself on his rod. Snape then uses one hand to rub and stroke the boy’s erection, thumbing the head slowly in small circles and making him jerk and moan, louder. He’s so deep inside that Harry starts to release high-pitched little whimpers and soon his cock is shooting a load onto Snape’s belly, an artsy white zigzag on the fine black hair of his belly.
Turning them over and never losing contact, Snape starts to fuck Harry relentlessly. His cock buried to the balls inside the boy, slamming into him time and time again. Harry is crying out his name and holding on for dear life, and Snape bites his lip when he comes, emptying his warm essence deep inside his lover. It feels so good, face to face.

Lying sandwiched together, Snape is only vaguely aware of the phone ringing in the background as he softens inside his partner. Harry pushes black hair from Snape’s face and smiles.
“It’s always so good with you.” He says quietly.
Snape agrees without saying so and kisses the boy on the cheek before pulling out and getting up. He’s throwing on a robe as he forces a smile in Harry’s direction.
“Listen,” He says. “You get some rest. I need to go make a call.”
Harry pouts. “Only if you promise to let me have my way with you when you return.”
Snape quirks an eyebrow. “Well. That will certainly be interesting, won’t it?”

He disappears into another room and then into another private bathroom as he picks up his phone and looks at all the messages. After he has closed the door, he starts to dial, and feels his heart skip when he hears an answer.
“This is Albus.”
Snape feels like a child at hearing the voice. Handsands become sweaty, his stomach clenches. He wants to hide, but he can’t. Albus is his first crush. He will always love him.
“You called?” He manages after a pause.
“Ah, Severus.” The voice is rich and warm, mature but not old. He sounds so close, Severus notes, right next to his ear. “Yes, I had been trying to reach you. How are you?”
Severus clears his throat. “I’m fine. Yourself?”
“Peachy. I’d be better, though, if I were with you.”
Snape feels his throat constrict but shakes it off with some difficulty. “You remember my terms.”
“Yes, Severus, but…I wasn’t ready for this to end.”
“What you were ready for, Albus, is irrelevant now. It is too dangerous. It always has been.”
“I still want to represent you, professionally.”
“Professionally isn’t the issue. It’s all the rest…”
There is a pause, and then Albus speaks in a soft voice. “I was just remembering the other day, when I first met you. You were so young…so…nubile…your body was paler than the moon…”
“Albus…”
“I used to like to kiss you just below your ribcage, just where your chest meets your belly. Your skin was softest there…untouched and unblemished.”
Snape feels his throat constrict again, and this time, he allows it, the way it causes his eyes to grow heavy with water. Albus continues.
“Do you remember when I first breached you? You were so tight and so nervous, but…you grew to love it…”
“Albus. Stop this.” Snape’s voice is weaker now. He wipes away a hot tear.
“You would sit on my lap, slide down on me, let me fill you up…Severus…do you remember it?”
Snape clears his throat, angry at himself for getting emotional. “I want…to see you again, but…”
“Anytime, my sweet Severus…” Albus sighs contentedly into the phone, a battle won. “…just let me know.”
“She’ll find out…and then…”
Albus snorts. “Minerva will never know. She can’t know. Anyway, she’s in the south of France now with the children.”
Severus, closes his eyes, then brings his voice up a level. “Right, then Albus. I’ll be getting back with you.”
“When?” He inquires in his soft tone. “Soon, I hope.”
Severus nods into the phone. “Yes. Soon.”
“Goodbye, then.”
Snape doesn’t return the sentiment. Instead, he hangs up the phone and exits the bathroom, heading in to where Harry is lying, naked and unsuspecting. His smile is mischievous and Snape is glad for the erection that waits beneath his own robe. The boy never has to know that he wasn’t the cause of it.