The Friday Boy
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
53
Views:
49,197
Reviews:
273
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
53
Views:
49,197
Reviews:
273
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.
Take from me
CHAPTER 37
“I can’t hold you up, lean there.” Harry muttered as he propped a drunken Snape against the cold dungeon wall. They’d apperated into the center of Hogsmeade and despite the ridiculous hour of the morning, both had been surprised to see The Three Broomsticks pub still open. Snape had suggested they call in for a relaxing butterbeer before returning to the castle. It might have been alright had Snape not decided he’d rather fire whisky. Already tanked from the party at Grimmauld Place it took less than four glasses before Snape was practically incoherent. Harry had never seen the professor so less than totally controlled. With a five o’clock shadow, slurring his words and staggering about blindly Snape looked like a common tramp and Harry had been somewhat embarrassed as he’d guided the man outside the pub only to have him throw up in the middle of the street in front of the morning shoppers. With no apparition license of his own, Harry had been forced to struggle with Snape back to the castle, stopping every five or so steps as Snape stumbled on the uneven ground. Finally though they’d made it back to the castle, and by now it was late morning. Snape had effectively been up all night, and was practically beginning to fall asleep on his feet.
With one hand pressing his drunken lover against the wall outside Snape’s chambers, Harry searched Snape’s pockets with the other, finally coming up with the elder wizards wand. Passing the wand over the empty portrait Harry was pleased when the door opened automatically, allowing him to stumble inside with Snape, who was now groaning and moaning an unpleasant sign he was going to be sick again. All most instantly Harry dropped Snape to the floor and collapsed himself on the couch exhausted from the walk. The sight of Snape crawling on all fours towards the bathroom might have made Harry smile if he hadn’t been so tired. Harry closed his eyes as the sound of Snape vomiting in the bathroom filtered through the silent chambers. The house elves had undoubtedly kept the place clean and tidy in Snape’s absence during summer but there was no fire to warm the damp, cold stone. Shivering and sighing heavily Harry hauled himself to his feet before beginning the obligatory chores of lighting the fire and informing the house elves they’d returned early from holidays. With the fire rapidly warming the room Harry grabbed some spare towels from the linen store, and having searched through their hastily packed trunks found two relatively clean nightshirts for himself and Snape. Snape was still kneeling weakly beside the toilet bowl when Harry wandered into the bathroom. The professor looked clammy, sickly and tired. Ignoring Snape for the moment Harry set about running a cool bath for them both, even going so far as to add some of Snape’s favorite calming potion to the water as a treat.
“Come on, up you get.” Harry muttered as he helped Snape pry himself up off the floor. With Snape leant against the towel rail, Harry began to strip his lover an act that Snape if coherent would have labeled undignified. Unceremoniously Harry slid Snape into the cool water once he was undressed before joining the potion master himself. The water stung Harry’s gravel rash from his fall in the park and he hissed in pain as he lathered up a sponge and began washing away the dirt and grime from his body. Snape floated bonelessly beside him, the wizards eyes closed as his hair swept around him like a liquid black waterfall. Snape was a quiet drunk, having hardly spoken a word except to curse and groan occasionally. It made a change for Harry, who’d only ever seen Ron drunk, and the Weasley had been a very loud, touchy feely kind of drunk. When he’d washed himself, Harry carefully bathed Snape. He washed the man’s silky black hair and gently bathed away the potion stains from the man’s long delicate fingers. Harry would have liked to have removed Snape’s stubble but having never shaved himself decided he’d rather get a rash from the prickles than risk slitting Snape’s throat. Once thoroughly clean Harry helped Snape from the bath and having dried them both got Snape into his nightshirt and slid the man into the large bed.
Snape was already asleep before his head had ever reached the pillow and Harry sat staring at the elder wizard for a long time before quietly getting up and heading back into the living room in search of something to eat. Harry found some cheese and crackers in the cold storage cupboard of Snape’s laboratory and having poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice settled by the fire in Snape’s worn old arm chair to eat.
***************************************
Harry awoke late afternoon to the smell of dinner wafting in through the open doorway. It was dark in the little enclosure of the bed curtains and had made sleeping in the middle of the day a little easier and also far safer, having himself not been able to activate Snape’s wards. Harry had purposefully closed the curtains when he’d hauled himself to bed a couple of hours ago and although feeling a little more refreshed was still tired. Snape’s warm body was pressed up against his own, and Harry smiled as he glanced over his shoulder to look at the elder wizard. Snape was still fast asleep his even breathing, ghosting softly against Harry’s neck as the man’s chest rose and fell steadily, his face a blank canvass of an undisturbed sleep. Finding himself compelled to go and find out who was cooking dinner Harry shuffled around in an attempt at prizing himself free of Snape without waking him. What met Harry’s backside though as he pushed Snape’s hand away however was unexpected. Snape was hard, or at least getting that way and his cock bumped innocently at Harry’s backside where the boy’s nightshirt had ridden up. Harry smiled to himself as he pushed back a little against Snape’s body, the man momentarily tightening his grip on Harry’s waist before to Harry’s disappointment he rolled over onto his back with a rather sleepy mutter. Free of Snape’s grasp Harry rolled over onto his side to face Snape. The man was sprawled comfortably in his sleep, his legs slightly apart to make the tented fabric of the sheets just a little bit more noticeable. Harry smiled to himself as he stared at Snape’s face, wondering what the man was dreaming about to get a hard on like that. Sure every man had some degree of morning wood but there was nothing half hearted about the erection Snape was sporting.
As he stared at Snape’s face a cheeky mischievousness caught Harry’s attention. After all they were a couple and couples did things for one another, and the fight they’d had would surely call for a little ‘make up’ sex. Tentatively Harry pulled down the sheets carefully exposing the damp patch forming at the end of the peeked tent of Snape’s nightshirt. Making sure to watch Snape’s face the entire time Harry reached under Snape’s shirt and wrapped his fingers lightly around the man’s swelling cock. Harry held his breath as Snape shifted in his sleep, the man’s eyelids fluttering for a moment before he fell still again. Harry breathed out in relief as he allowed himself the luxury of staring at Snape’s prick, with its thick shaft and purpling uncut head. Afraid of seeming inexperienced Harry had avoided close scrutiny of Snape’s member but now he allowed himself to explore the length thoroughly, comparing it to his own in every detail. At the attention from Harry a small drop of pre-come had formed on the head of Snape’s cock and Harry instinctively licked his lips. Harry knew he was pushing it, Snape was a light sleeper but he couldn’t help himself as he leant over his lover and flicked the very tip of his tongue out to collect the pearly droplet. All the while Harry kept his gaze on Snape’s face his heart pounding in his chest worried that any minute now Snape would wake up. It was surely a miracle that Snape didn’t even shift at the wet tip of Harry’s tongue on his erection. Harry sat back up and rolled the salty fluid in his mouth as he continued to gently squeeze the man’s prick. Snape was either so drunk he was unconscious or so engrossed in his dream that he hadn’t even felt Harry.
A naughty kind of bravery swept over Harry as he used his free hand to squeeze his own rapidly filling prick. The memory of Snape’s conversation with Bill in the cellar came flooding back to Harry. The pause, as Bill had asked Snape if Harry was good in bed had affected Harry more than anything else that had been discussed. A sudden surge of jealousy urged Harry’s bravado as he stared at Snape’s cock, erect and leaking. Harry needed this, needed to feel his lover, need to show him he was capable of anything on his own, prepared to give the ‘more’ as Bill had described it back at Grimmauld Place. Letting go of Snape’s prick Harry hastily pulled his own nightshirt off over his head. Careful not to move the bed too much Harry reached over to the nightstand, hoping against hope Snape hadn’t packed everything for the summer. Harry cursed inwardly as he found nothing but handkerchiefs and two dusty bottles of painkilling potion in the draw. Not wanting to leave the sanctuary of their bed, Harry carefully climbed over Snape to the elder wizards’ bedside. Harry hadn’t ever bothered to look in Snape’s side table; everything he’d ever needed in bed was usually in his own. Still they hadn’t unpacked for their hastily arrival and so Harry hoped Snape was better prepared for unexpected occasions such as this.
Triumphantly Harry found what he was looking for, a small yellowed bottle of oil. Still careful not to wake Snape Harry straddled his lover’s waist and uncorked the vial. Taking a whiff of the stuff just to make sure it wasn’t anything sinister Harry coated three of his own fingers with the oil. Harry was surprised at how easy it was to finger himself, the memory of him first trying it in the bathroom seemed like only yesterday. Biting his lip to prevent himself from crying out, Harry slid three oiled fingers into his backside and began stretching himself in the scissoring motion Snape had taught him. Watching his lover’s face the entire time Harry stretched his passage, until his own cock throbbed painfully against his stomach and his body cried out to be filled much more thoroughly. Removing his fingers Harry put aside the vial and maneuvered himself above Snape’s thick erection. Harry hadn’t done this before, he’d never been on top and had to steel his nerves as he took his oiled hand and grasped Snape’s prick to hold it steady. The awkwardness of the position made Harry shake a little as he lowered himself onto the bulbous head of Snape’s prick. With his upper teeth worrying his lower lip and his gaze locked on Snape’s face Harry gently pushed himself down onto Snape’s erection. Tears prickled Harry’s eyes as he chewed his lip trying desperately not to make a sound as he finally seated himself fully on the elder wizards cock. Harry froze as Snape moved, his eyelids flickering dangerously a smile tugging at the corner of the man’s thin lips as he groaned in his sleep. Harry breathed out heavily when Snape turned his head to the side and then settled again.
For the brief moment as he sat rigidly still on top of Snape Harry could feel the pulse of the man’s cock throbbing inside of him, matching the pound of his blood in his head. Taking a silent steady breath in Harry began to move, his arms shaking as he levered himself up and down, back and forth on his lovers member. Harry didn’t know why Snape hadn’t woken up yet, but as he let himself thrust harder he didn’t care whether Snape woke up. After all there were worse ways to be woken up…
As he settled into a rhythm Harry was surprised when he heard Snape groan in his sleep. Even if it was an unconscious action Snape was shifting his hips in time with Harry’s thrusts, and Harry couldn’t get enough as he tried desperately to restrain himself from crying out. The sounds Snape made when he was unaware he was doing so were beautiful and Harry delighted in watching expression after unrestrained expression wash over Snape’s face. Panting heavily into the dark, quietness of the curtained bed, Harry dug his teeth into his lip drawing blood as he came, one hand clamped around the end of his prick to catch his spray. Red in the face with the force of his restraint, and with a hand full of sticky warm cum Harry watched as Snape’s fists tightened in the sheets. Harry held his breath as he watched the elder wizards eyelids flicker, a barely audible groan leaving Snape’s lips as his jaw tensed and his body stiffened in orgasm. Harry whimpered around his abused lips as he watched an expression of satisfied serenity wash over Snape’s face, before the man turned over tipping Harry off him like he was a feather. With a huff and sharp squeak of pain Harry fell still as he watched Snape settle again his spent prick softening but still glistening in moisture. Harry breathed out in a sigh of relief as he slipped slowly out of the curtains and into the cooler air of the bedroom. Taking a deep steadying breath in Harry glanced at himself in the reflection of the mirror above Snape’s dresser. A small trail blood dribbled down his chin from his cut lip, and his hand smelt deplorably of his own sex, now sticky, wet and dripping. Still despite the trivial issues a self satisfied smirk settled on Harry’s lips as he felt the slide of Snape’s cum trickling down the back of his thighs. Who said Harry Potter wasn’t capable of great things…? With another cheeky smile at his reflection Harry turned and quietly padded into the bathroom, to wash. The smell of dinner was still lingering in room despite the heady under scent of sex and after such strenuous activity Harry was in need of some substance.
TBC>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
“I can’t hold you up, lean there.” Harry muttered as he propped a drunken Snape against the cold dungeon wall. They’d apperated into the center of Hogsmeade and despite the ridiculous hour of the morning, both had been surprised to see The Three Broomsticks pub still open. Snape had suggested they call in for a relaxing butterbeer before returning to the castle. It might have been alright had Snape not decided he’d rather fire whisky. Already tanked from the party at Grimmauld Place it took less than four glasses before Snape was practically incoherent. Harry had never seen the professor so less than totally controlled. With a five o’clock shadow, slurring his words and staggering about blindly Snape looked like a common tramp and Harry had been somewhat embarrassed as he’d guided the man outside the pub only to have him throw up in the middle of the street in front of the morning shoppers. With no apparition license of his own, Harry had been forced to struggle with Snape back to the castle, stopping every five or so steps as Snape stumbled on the uneven ground. Finally though they’d made it back to the castle, and by now it was late morning. Snape had effectively been up all night, and was practically beginning to fall asleep on his feet.
With one hand pressing his drunken lover against the wall outside Snape’s chambers, Harry searched Snape’s pockets with the other, finally coming up with the elder wizards wand. Passing the wand over the empty portrait Harry was pleased when the door opened automatically, allowing him to stumble inside with Snape, who was now groaning and moaning an unpleasant sign he was going to be sick again. All most instantly Harry dropped Snape to the floor and collapsed himself on the couch exhausted from the walk. The sight of Snape crawling on all fours towards the bathroom might have made Harry smile if he hadn’t been so tired. Harry closed his eyes as the sound of Snape vomiting in the bathroom filtered through the silent chambers. The house elves had undoubtedly kept the place clean and tidy in Snape’s absence during summer but there was no fire to warm the damp, cold stone. Shivering and sighing heavily Harry hauled himself to his feet before beginning the obligatory chores of lighting the fire and informing the house elves they’d returned early from holidays. With the fire rapidly warming the room Harry grabbed some spare towels from the linen store, and having searched through their hastily packed trunks found two relatively clean nightshirts for himself and Snape. Snape was still kneeling weakly beside the toilet bowl when Harry wandered into the bathroom. The professor looked clammy, sickly and tired. Ignoring Snape for the moment Harry set about running a cool bath for them both, even going so far as to add some of Snape’s favorite calming potion to the water as a treat.
“Come on, up you get.” Harry muttered as he helped Snape pry himself up off the floor. With Snape leant against the towel rail, Harry began to strip his lover an act that Snape if coherent would have labeled undignified. Unceremoniously Harry slid Snape into the cool water once he was undressed before joining the potion master himself. The water stung Harry’s gravel rash from his fall in the park and he hissed in pain as he lathered up a sponge and began washing away the dirt and grime from his body. Snape floated bonelessly beside him, the wizards eyes closed as his hair swept around him like a liquid black waterfall. Snape was a quiet drunk, having hardly spoken a word except to curse and groan occasionally. It made a change for Harry, who’d only ever seen Ron drunk, and the Weasley had been a very loud, touchy feely kind of drunk. When he’d washed himself, Harry carefully bathed Snape. He washed the man’s silky black hair and gently bathed away the potion stains from the man’s long delicate fingers. Harry would have liked to have removed Snape’s stubble but having never shaved himself decided he’d rather get a rash from the prickles than risk slitting Snape’s throat. Once thoroughly clean Harry helped Snape from the bath and having dried them both got Snape into his nightshirt and slid the man into the large bed.
Snape was already asleep before his head had ever reached the pillow and Harry sat staring at the elder wizard for a long time before quietly getting up and heading back into the living room in search of something to eat. Harry found some cheese and crackers in the cold storage cupboard of Snape’s laboratory and having poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice settled by the fire in Snape’s worn old arm chair to eat.
***************************************
Harry awoke late afternoon to the smell of dinner wafting in through the open doorway. It was dark in the little enclosure of the bed curtains and had made sleeping in the middle of the day a little easier and also far safer, having himself not been able to activate Snape’s wards. Harry had purposefully closed the curtains when he’d hauled himself to bed a couple of hours ago and although feeling a little more refreshed was still tired. Snape’s warm body was pressed up against his own, and Harry smiled as he glanced over his shoulder to look at the elder wizard. Snape was still fast asleep his even breathing, ghosting softly against Harry’s neck as the man’s chest rose and fell steadily, his face a blank canvass of an undisturbed sleep. Finding himself compelled to go and find out who was cooking dinner Harry shuffled around in an attempt at prizing himself free of Snape without waking him. What met Harry’s backside though as he pushed Snape’s hand away however was unexpected. Snape was hard, or at least getting that way and his cock bumped innocently at Harry’s backside where the boy’s nightshirt had ridden up. Harry smiled to himself as he pushed back a little against Snape’s body, the man momentarily tightening his grip on Harry’s waist before to Harry’s disappointment he rolled over onto his back with a rather sleepy mutter. Free of Snape’s grasp Harry rolled over onto his side to face Snape. The man was sprawled comfortably in his sleep, his legs slightly apart to make the tented fabric of the sheets just a little bit more noticeable. Harry smiled to himself as he stared at Snape’s face, wondering what the man was dreaming about to get a hard on like that. Sure every man had some degree of morning wood but there was nothing half hearted about the erection Snape was sporting.
As he stared at Snape’s face a cheeky mischievousness caught Harry’s attention. After all they were a couple and couples did things for one another, and the fight they’d had would surely call for a little ‘make up’ sex. Tentatively Harry pulled down the sheets carefully exposing the damp patch forming at the end of the peeked tent of Snape’s nightshirt. Making sure to watch Snape’s face the entire time Harry reached under Snape’s shirt and wrapped his fingers lightly around the man’s swelling cock. Harry held his breath as Snape shifted in his sleep, the man’s eyelids fluttering for a moment before he fell still again. Harry breathed out in relief as he allowed himself the luxury of staring at Snape’s prick, with its thick shaft and purpling uncut head. Afraid of seeming inexperienced Harry had avoided close scrutiny of Snape’s member but now he allowed himself to explore the length thoroughly, comparing it to his own in every detail. At the attention from Harry a small drop of pre-come had formed on the head of Snape’s cock and Harry instinctively licked his lips. Harry knew he was pushing it, Snape was a light sleeper but he couldn’t help himself as he leant over his lover and flicked the very tip of his tongue out to collect the pearly droplet. All the while Harry kept his gaze on Snape’s face his heart pounding in his chest worried that any minute now Snape would wake up. It was surely a miracle that Snape didn’t even shift at the wet tip of Harry’s tongue on his erection. Harry sat back up and rolled the salty fluid in his mouth as he continued to gently squeeze the man’s prick. Snape was either so drunk he was unconscious or so engrossed in his dream that he hadn’t even felt Harry.
A naughty kind of bravery swept over Harry as he used his free hand to squeeze his own rapidly filling prick. The memory of Snape’s conversation with Bill in the cellar came flooding back to Harry. The pause, as Bill had asked Snape if Harry was good in bed had affected Harry more than anything else that had been discussed. A sudden surge of jealousy urged Harry’s bravado as he stared at Snape’s cock, erect and leaking. Harry needed this, needed to feel his lover, need to show him he was capable of anything on his own, prepared to give the ‘more’ as Bill had described it back at Grimmauld Place. Letting go of Snape’s prick Harry hastily pulled his own nightshirt off over his head. Careful not to move the bed too much Harry reached over to the nightstand, hoping against hope Snape hadn’t packed everything for the summer. Harry cursed inwardly as he found nothing but handkerchiefs and two dusty bottles of painkilling potion in the draw. Not wanting to leave the sanctuary of their bed, Harry carefully climbed over Snape to the elder wizards’ bedside. Harry hadn’t ever bothered to look in Snape’s side table; everything he’d ever needed in bed was usually in his own. Still they hadn’t unpacked for their hastily arrival and so Harry hoped Snape was better prepared for unexpected occasions such as this.
Triumphantly Harry found what he was looking for, a small yellowed bottle of oil. Still careful not to wake Snape Harry straddled his lover’s waist and uncorked the vial. Taking a whiff of the stuff just to make sure it wasn’t anything sinister Harry coated three of his own fingers with the oil. Harry was surprised at how easy it was to finger himself, the memory of him first trying it in the bathroom seemed like only yesterday. Biting his lip to prevent himself from crying out, Harry slid three oiled fingers into his backside and began stretching himself in the scissoring motion Snape had taught him. Watching his lover’s face the entire time Harry stretched his passage, until his own cock throbbed painfully against his stomach and his body cried out to be filled much more thoroughly. Removing his fingers Harry put aside the vial and maneuvered himself above Snape’s thick erection. Harry hadn’t done this before, he’d never been on top and had to steel his nerves as he took his oiled hand and grasped Snape’s prick to hold it steady. The awkwardness of the position made Harry shake a little as he lowered himself onto the bulbous head of Snape’s prick. With his upper teeth worrying his lower lip and his gaze locked on Snape’s face Harry gently pushed himself down onto Snape’s erection. Tears prickled Harry’s eyes as he chewed his lip trying desperately not to make a sound as he finally seated himself fully on the elder wizards cock. Harry froze as Snape moved, his eyelids flickering dangerously a smile tugging at the corner of the man’s thin lips as he groaned in his sleep. Harry breathed out heavily when Snape turned his head to the side and then settled again.
For the brief moment as he sat rigidly still on top of Snape Harry could feel the pulse of the man’s cock throbbing inside of him, matching the pound of his blood in his head. Taking a silent steady breath in Harry began to move, his arms shaking as he levered himself up and down, back and forth on his lovers member. Harry didn’t know why Snape hadn’t woken up yet, but as he let himself thrust harder he didn’t care whether Snape woke up. After all there were worse ways to be woken up…
As he settled into a rhythm Harry was surprised when he heard Snape groan in his sleep. Even if it was an unconscious action Snape was shifting his hips in time with Harry’s thrusts, and Harry couldn’t get enough as he tried desperately to restrain himself from crying out. The sounds Snape made when he was unaware he was doing so were beautiful and Harry delighted in watching expression after unrestrained expression wash over Snape’s face. Panting heavily into the dark, quietness of the curtained bed, Harry dug his teeth into his lip drawing blood as he came, one hand clamped around the end of his prick to catch his spray. Red in the face with the force of his restraint, and with a hand full of sticky warm cum Harry watched as Snape’s fists tightened in the sheets. Harry held his breath as he watched the elder wizards eyelids flicker, a barely audible groan leaving Snape’s lips as his jaw tensed and his body stiffened in orgasm. Harry whimpered around his abused lips as he watched an expression of satisfied serenity wash over Snape’s face, before the man turned over tipping Harry off him like he was a feather. With a huff and sharp squeak of pain Harry fell still as he watched Snape settle again his spent prick softening but still glistening in moisture. Harry breathed out in a sigh of relief as he slipped slowly out of the curtains and into the cooler air of the bedroom. Taking a deep steadying breath in Harry glanced at himself in the reflection of the mirror above Snape’s dresser. A small trail blood dribbled down his chin from his cut lip, and his hand smelt deplorably of his own sex, now sticky, wet and dripping. Still despite the trivial issues a self satisfied smirk settled on Harry’s lips as he felt the slide of Snape’s cum trickling down the back of his thighs. Who said Harry Potter wasn’t capable of great things…? With another cheeky smile at his reflection Harry turned and quietly padded into the bathroom, to wash. The smell of dinner was still lingering in room despite the heady under scent of sex and after such strenuous activity Harry was in need of some substance.
TBC>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>