Cake

A/N: This chapter deals with some sensitive issues in Snape’s past. I won’t say more lest I give away the plot. Also, I ended this installment in such a way that it could be considered the end of the fic. If there is to be more, it will depend solely on feedback. Also, I have been considering continuing this storyline in another genre – like M/M instead of Snape/Harry just because I see endless possibilities between Snape and other members of the band. Agreed?

8incal


IN LIEU OF ALBUS…

“Here?”

“No. Lower.”

“Here?”

A chuckle. “Uh…yeah…that’s it…right there, Harry…perfect…”

The boy drags his nails sensuously down the man’s spine, finding the itch and conquering it. Snape, in spite of himself, lets his eyes drift shut and leans into the sensation. Its been months now and everyday Severus waits for the men in uniforms to come and take him away and everyday, it never happens. He occasionally wonders about these so-called relatives of Harry’s. Why wouldn’t they even bother trying to find him? Incidentally, it doesn’t matter. The boy has become a sort of unofficial band mascot, accompanying them to the studio, helping with equipment, drinking with them, dealing with them and their drug and alcohol induced mood-swings. Harry is starting to grow on Snape. The man won’t admit to the “L” word, but he does feel strongly towards him, nonetheless. He’s positive Harry can sense it.

“I want to go with you on your meeting.”

Snape busies himself with straightening his shirt as the boy fixes green eyes on him.

“You can’t today.”

“Why not?” Harry is nothing if not persistent. “I’m learning a lot about the business. Maybe I can negotiate more money for you – or your own tour bus.”

Severus smiles fondly at the boy. “I don’t think owning my own tour bus would be very environmentally responsible, do you?”

Harry grins. “I love you.”

Snape pushes black hair from his face, examining his large nose in the mirror on the wall as he replies absently. “Yes, I know.”

Harry pretends he isn’t crushed and proceeds with caution. “How do you feel? About me?”

Snape regards the boy’s reflection in the mirror. “What?”

Harry blushes, feeling stupid. “I’m sorry. Forget it.”

“I care about you, Harry. You know that.”

“But you don’t love me.”

Snape licks his lips. He doesn’t know what to feel or how to feel for the boy. At his hesitation, Harry turns and walks silently away. Snape swears under his breath before following Harry into the other room.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I don’t…I…I don’t work that way. There are…things I can’t …bloody hell! I don’t know what I’m trying to say…” He runs a hand through his black hair.

“Should I just go home?”

Snape feels a strange panic creeping into his nerve endings. What would make him ask that?

“No. I don’t want you to leave…I just…No. Stay here. I have a meeting now. When I return, we’ll…have dinner…someplace nice…just the two of us…” He smirks. “…so you won’t be subjected to Sirius’s wet snores and Remus and his dream whimpering…”

Harry tries to smile, but it falls short. There’s something else that’s been on his mind.

“What about your agent?”

Snape shrugs off the inquiry with practiced ease. “What about him?”

Harry stares into Snape’s black eyes, trying to find truth in a sea of muck. “He wants you.”

Snape is caught off guard. “What? But how do you…”

“Sirius told me all about it.”

Snape feels dislike flare up inside him again at his band mate’s presumptuous ass-holery. “Wonderful. I shall make a mental note to thank him later – for his…uh…assistance.”

“Are you meeting him?”

Snape answers quickly. “No. I’m not.”

“Then let me come with.”

“No. You can’t.”

Harry feels heat burn his cheeks. “You’re such a liar.”

“We’ll have dinner and drinks later.”

“I don’t want your fucking drinks and dinner.” Harry whispers. “I want you to be honest.”

“I will be.” Snape hears himself murmur, straightening his tie. “Later. Please, wait for me.”

Harry feels that right now, this is the hardest thing anyone has ever asked him to do. He flops backward on the bed and shuts his eyes, waiting for something to make sense. When he opens them, there is a note that simply reads, ‘Wait Harry.’


* * * * * * * * *

Of course Albus has a beautiful home. Why shouldn’t it be? With his income combined with his record-producing mogul of a wife’s the couple is well into the upper class range. Snape is staring at a painting in the large marble corridor, pretending he isn’t perturbed and anxious. And then, Albus is behind him.
“Severus.”
Snape turns, pushes a long dark strand of hair from his face and regards the older man. “Albus.”
Albus reaches forward to touch the pallid skin, feeling it beneath his fingers, its icy coldness. Snape actually flinches.
“You’re as beautiful as when I first laid eyes on you.”
Snape swallows. “I cannot do this”
Albus lowers his eyes and comes closer, hands cupping Snape’s cheeks. “You can. You’re my beautiful boy.”
“Don’t call me that.” Snape moves from Albus’ grasp. “Its obscene.”
The older man smiles and watches as Snape flows about the room, moving into shadows. “I can’t help it. I ache for you, my dear.”
One glance down at the front of the older man’s trousers lets Snape know it isn’t a lie. The bulge there is very prominent, and Severus knows how it is when Albus wants his way. Its always been like this.
“I’m seeing someone.” Snape practically whispers. “I’m…committed…”
Albus snorts a chuckle. “That’s sweet, Severus. I’m glad to hear it.”
“I don’t want to do this.”
The older man makes a face. “Will I have to beg?”
Severus takes a deep breath and shrugs. “I came here tonight, Albus, to let you know th…”
“Say no more, Severus.” Albus has raised his bony hand, his command presence overcoming Snape. “I understand fully. I never should have sent for you. I just…I needed you. You know that.”

Snape has a sudden memory.

Being ten years old, thumbing on his first real guitar beneath a sunny spot in the park. Feeling eyes on him. Feeling like prey. His mother had only left him for a moment, but the man seemed so friendly, so sweet. Almost fatherly. He’d had a beard even then. Severus, as a child, wouldn’t have known the difference between a child molester and a talent scout then anyway. He’d only registered the fact that the man offered him stardom.

“What are you thinking?” Albus’ voice cuts through Snape’s thoughts.

Snape snorts. “I was remembering how foolish and naïve I was then.”

“In the park?”

“Yes. In the park.” Severus narrows his eyes at the man standing before him now. “You wanted me even then.”

“Well,” Albus ponders the statement. “I couldn’t very well fuck a ten year old.”

Snape smirks coldly as color drains from his face. “No. You had the decency to wait until I was eleven.”

Albus exhales slowly before replying softly. “I don’t recall the details…”

Snape’s mind drifts back again. He’d been a wiry boy, quiet and dark. Much like now. The difference is, he’d had moments of brightness, occasional laughter. His parents were older - mother was a lawyer, father a surgeon. They didn’t have much time for him like his new agent did. Sure, they were pleased at the idea of Severus becoming a child star. He certainly had the look. That gorgeous head of black hair, that pale, almost snow white skin. Those depthless black doe eyes. Only problem was, he was a bit soft spoken and shy. Albus would handle it, though. Albus would handle everything…

“I’m leaving.” Snape says, brushing past the man in front of him. “Tonight isn’t good for me.”


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


When he arrives at the exclusive nightclub, he stalks through the velvet-roped line and ignores the whispers of the crowd as he passes.

“Holy shit! It’s fucking Severus Snape! From The Order!”

“Can I have an autograph?!”

“Dude, you rock!”

Snape doesn’t pause before the security guard, instead making his way through the back of the posh club and into the VIP entrance, gaining more stares and words or praise until he finds who he is looking for. Sirius is in a corner huddled with Remus and some of the guys from another famous band. They’re sharing a bong and looking up with surprised but unfocused eyes.
“Severus!” Sirius grins, gesturing for his guitarist to sit. “I was hoping you’d show up.”

Snape, in a rage, knocks the bong off the table and leans down over the other men, ignoring the swears and curses. He has the collar of Sirius’s already torn shirt in his clutches.

“Next time you feel the need to go, ‘blabbing’ to someone about my personal affairs, make sure you come to me so that I might…dissuade you.” Sirius is a ragdoll in Snape’s grasp as he tosses the lead singer back onto the couch. Remus stands and goes to Snape, pleading for Sirius.
“He really didn’t mean it, Snape. It just sort of slipped out.”
“Go to hell, Remus.” Snape straightens his shirt and disregards the haughty stares from the crowd. “Go to hell, all of you.”

He stalks out, leaving a stunned group of rockers and two or three confused groupies with GHB grins on their faces.

“That. Fucking. Rocked.” One of them says before passing out on the shag rug.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

An hour or so later, Harry is sitting across from his guitarist lover in a beautiful Italian Bistro in downtown Manhattan. He has his arms crossed over his chest and his legs crossed delicately. He looks perturbed as Snape drinks and watches him.
“Your Fettuccini will get cold.” He murmurs as Harry shakes his head.
“So let it. I don’t care.”
Snape sets his drink down in front of him. “I’m sorry. About earlier. Don’t starve yourself because I’m a stupid jackass. It certainly isn’t worth a fast on my behalf.”
Harry feels his heart aching as he gears up to say what he has been battling with for hours.

“I used your credit card to order a plane ticket home. I’m leaving in the morning. Then, you can be rid of me.”
Snape stares at the boy. “You’re joking.”
Harry sighs. “I’m not. I don’t want this lifestyle. I thought…” He shrugs as a lump forms in his throat. “I guess I thought that you cared. I was obviously mistaken. I’m apparently just another groupie.”
“That’s preposterous.” Snape hears himself breathe. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“It’s too late.”
“No.” Snape corrects him. “It isn’t. I’ll simply call the airport and tell them my card was stolen. You’ll be arrested when you go to retrieve the ticket.”
Harry feels an angry heat burn his cheeks. “Fuck you.” He whispers. “At least then I’ll be in jail – and away from you.”
Snape grins and has a sip of wine before answering plaintively. “You won’t be there long because I’ll most likely try to bail you out with the same credit card I reported stolen.”
Harry snorts, feeling victorious. “Ah. Then we’ll both be in jail.”
Snape shrugs. “Fine with me. At least you’ll still be in New York, and I’ll still have you.”
Harry warms at the words, feeling loved for the first time since coming to New York. “I didn’t think it mattered so much.”

Severus eyes him. “Had you asked, I might’ve told you.”

It’s later, still, when they arrive at Snape’s home and Harry begins to unbutton him. Snape is letting himself be unbuttoned, letting Harry kiss the pale flesh that is slowly being exposed to him.
He buries a hand in the boy’s hair as he is pushed into the wall.
“Slower…” He whispers in that deep silky voice. “…Slower, Harry…make me wait for it…”
Something about the way Snape says it makes Harry want to rush even more. His erection is already pulsing inside his slacks, trying to force its way toward the older man. His voice doesn’t help matters.
His tongue is dragging along Snape’s clean white skin, licking around the taut nipples, slow circles, and even slower kisses.
Severus moans softly, and Harry has to shut his eyes for strength. God, that man…
When their lips meet, it’s gentle at first, then urgent. Snape has to hold Harry at bay because he begins to get eager, forcing his tongue into Snape’s mouth, sucking his with determination.
“Harry…” Snape groans when Harry’s hand finds the hard bundle at the apex of his thighs and begins to rub him through his pants. Snape is gritting his teeth. Harry is insatiable tonight.

When they stumble toward the bedroom, finally, Harry is lowering his head between Snape’s legs, tugging the zipper down slowly so as not to injure anything important. Snape is watching with intensity as Harry finally brings the thick member into the open. There’s something erotic about the discomfort of his slacks bound around his hips. Harry has a way with his tongue though, and when he swallows the hard-as-steel cock down his throat, all other thoughts leave him.
The boy repeatedly swallows him, his tongue drifting lazily around the head in slow, agonizingly slow, circles. His free hand is gently cupping the silky balls, rolling them tenderly. Snape has an arm thrown over his eyes and one hand clutching the sheets as Harry eats his meat like a starving man.
“Harry…God…” Snape is arching up into the warm wet mouth. “…Don’t stop, Harry…yes…like that…Oh…”
Soon, the man is shuddering beneath him and shooting his hot seed down the boy’s throat. Harry doesn’t release the cock until it stops leaking and begins to soften in his mouth. By then, Snape is tugging him up the bed to lie beside him.

“You taste so sweet.” Harry whispers against Snape’s neck. Damp black hair brushes against his cheek as Severus turns to face him. Their lips meet and Harry marvels in Snape’s unsteady breathing. Their tongues touch and a shiver goes through Harry’s body as Snape reaches down to caress the hard dick in his pants.

“Well…” He sighs, contentedly. “…I suppose we’ll have to take care of this, won’t we?”
Harry smirks and starts to unbutton himself. He is so on edge, he might come just hearing Snape’s voice. “Don’t talk…” He whispers urgently. “…or I might lose it all over myself.”
Snape’s lip curls as he wordlessly obeys and reaches for something in the side table drawer.
Harry, naked and ready, watches with curious eyes as Severus brings the tube into the open and pours a large amount of the viscous stuff into his palm. His grin causes Harry’s cock to spring up.
“And don’t smile like that either…” Harry gasps when Severus reaches for his cock and starts to slide his palms up and down it. Harry leans his head back and shuts his eyes as Snape starts to give him a languid hand-job, drizzling more of the lube onto his cock.
In another instant, the rubbing stops and Harry’s eyes fly open.
He is just in time to see Severus rolling onto his belly and pushing his slacks a little more down his thighs.
Harry isn’t sure how to proceed, but he is staring at the gorgeous tight globes of Snape’s ass, into the inviting cleft. He is licking his lips without even realizing it.
‘Severus…” he whispers, coming closer, stroking his own cock out of desperation.
Snape simply lies on his stomach, arms folded beneath his head. Black hair, like silk, fanned across the pillow. He looks so goddamned inviting. Eventually, Harry gets the picture and straddles Snape’s thighs. His erection rests in the cleft of Snape’s ass, and he bends forward, planting gentle kisses between the shoulder blades, sliding his fingers through the raven hair. Snape sighs softly, pushing against Harry.
After regarding the relaxed man lying beneath him, stroking his hands up and down the lightly muscled back, Harry reaches down and starts to rub himself against Snape’s ass. Then, with careful nudging, he positions himself at Snape’s entrance. He is still quite lubricated and reaches for the tube, squirting some on Snape – just to be sure, and then, he is pushing in, slowly, biting his lip in concentration and inching in further, still.
“Severus…” Harry whispers, realizing he’d been holding his own breath. “…Severus…are you…”
“I’m fine, Harry…” Snape breathes quietly, eyes clenched shut. “…go deeper…I can take it…”
Harry nods and pushes in another two inches or so as Snape pushes back against him; soon, he is buried completely. The tightness and warmth is indescribable. Harry’s rests his hands against Snape’s back and adjusts to the feel of it, letting Snape adjust as well until he feels the man beneath him starting to press back against him.

“Fuck me, Harry…” Severus sounds almost perturbed, but his voice is husky with desire and Harry begins to thrust, in and out, long and slow. The heat is almost unbearable, but Harry continues, dizzy with need, pulsing with lust. God, it feels like heaven. Especially when his long strokes find that special place inside Severus that makes him gasp into the pillow.
It isn’t long before Harry is near the edge. His mouth is open and he is panting, his hips swiveling, and moving forward and back, balls slapping against Snape’s ass.
“Ah, God…Severus…Ah…I’m so…close…I’m…I’m gonna…”
He’s whimpering as he fills Snape with his load and trembles against him. Snape is breathing harshly, eyes still closed, body spent but sated.

Later, they are lying against one another, Snape’s head back on the pillow with his eyes closed and Harry propped up on an elbow, gazing down at him. The intimacy is almost too much for him and he wipes water from his eyes as Snape speaks, startling him.
“What is it?” he asks softly, eyes opening to regard the boy.
Harry lowers his gaze. “Thought you were asleep.”
Severus smiles. “I can’t sleep with you here. I’m always afraid you’ll leave in the night.”
Harry’s eyes fill up again.
Snape reaches out a hand to brush away the crystal tear sliding down his cheek. “Don’t do that. I’ll start to think you aren’t happy here.”
Harry rests his head on Snape’s chest, hearing his strong heartbeat, letting it bring him strength and courage.
“That’s the problem. I’m too happy here. Too comfortable. With you.”
Snape nods his head and brushes a hand across Harry’s unruly hair. “There’s no such thing as too happy or too comfortable. Most people would sacrifice everything for that.”
Harry snuggles closer, loving Snape’s strong arms around him. “How do I know you won’t get tired of me?”
Snape snorts a laugh. “Because I won’t ever tire of this. I promise you that.” He bends to plant a kiss on Harry’s head. “Now, get rest. There’s plenty to do tomorrow and I don’t want you exhausted and temperamental. For that, we have Sirius.”
Harry yawns, quietly, eyes drifting shut, content in the knowledge that things are going well, for now at least. “Goodnight, Severus.”
Snape reaches for the lamp to turn it off. “Yes. Goodnight.”

END?