Bound in Leather

ok, so here\'s the deal. i know what you\'re going to say..... yes, yes... we know it already. but i have an almost anal obsession with covering my ass. so you\'ll just have to live with it. be it known here and now that i am not the creator of anything contained herein, with exception of al, kevin, brenda and a few others. all others belong solely to j.k. rowling. it is her universe i am mucking about with, without monetary compensation. i merely do this for the joy of it.

standard warnings of smut will abound. it has a habit of sneaking up on me and throwing itself up onto the page when i\'m not looking. so i honestly never know when it will show up here..... please take note and bring the proper supplies, on the off chance you need them.

and, finally. please let me know what you think. drop me a little note with your thoughts, suggestions..... helpful hints. no flames, please! i will use them to roast your ass with. and the dragon is back up to one hundred percent. he apparently can\'t stomach spicy foods. go fig....

Chapter Five: The Haunting of Unsatisfied Cravings
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Severus stared down at the head in his lap, his mouth twisted with faint disgust. The girl he\'d grabbed from the little group back stage was presently doing her best to take every layer of flesh off his cock with her tightly closed lips. She was sucking away at him like she was trying to pull a thick milk shake through a straw. While it was not entirely pleasureless, he wasn\'t so much into pain that he was ready to rub sandpaper up and down the length of his erection.

He held back the sigh he wanted to expell, thinking he should perhaps not upset the woman when her teeth were far too close to the most intimate parts of his body. He wanted to remain the sex god some of the women had called him. He wasn\'t certain as to whether or not they had been merely paying lip service, in more way than one. But he was arrogant enough to like the title and think it was appropriate.

It had been just over a week since he had been in the Twin Cities. Since he had met a girl who called herself Al. Since he had last had full intercourse. He knew the rest of the band was concerned. Since they had formed the group, they had never seen him without a woman in his bed. The running joke was he had more flavors of the month than an ice cream parlor or coffee shop. But the best he\'d managed this last week was the occasional blow job. To date, he\'d had three. Certainly a poor track record for himself since he\'d become a rock star. It was pathetic, even in his eyes.

The problem was her. Everytime he got in the presence of any other woman looking for a sexual encounter, he saw those blue eyes in a face that reminded him of a mischievous imp. Honey brown hair haunted his dreams, twining like silk about his fingers for a moment before slipping away. Much like the dream did when he awoke in the morning. It always left him hard and aching with each day\'s rising. His hand had become very good friends with his cock once again. It frustrated him to no end.

He could not understand the obsession he had with this slip of a girl who wasn\'t even a groupie. He wasn\'t sure what she was, but he knew she wasn\'t that. There had been too much.... awe in the way she had handled him. And the honesty he\'d heard in her words, seen in those blue eyes, was not false. So why she haunted him as she did was a mystery to him. He couldn\'t even be certain that she thought of him beyond that night. The arrogance he had, that was so much a part of him, wouldn\'t let him believe anything other than she was lost in her own thoughts of him. Perhaps he wasn\'t being completely honest with himself. He didn\'t care.

He liked to think he was that damn memorable.

He came back to himself when he felt the girl pull back, her tongue coming out to lick up the pearlescent fluid staining her lips. He\'d orgasmed without realizing it. Either he\'d been so lost in thoughts that he hadn\'t felt his body tighten up, or he hadn\'t cared enough to pay attention. That was a truly scary thought.

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with the accomplishment of sucking him off. He gave her a look that could have been anything. She obviously took it for pleasure, getting up off her knees to straddle his thighs. He stared at her, his face a blank mask. She leaned forward, intent on kissing him. He turned his head. She drew back, a look of confusion on her face. \'You don\'t want me to kiss you?\' she asked, her tone losing it\'s huskiness to take on a faint tinge of dismay.

\' I am not in the mood,\' he returned, his voice cold. She stared at him a moment, then slipped off his lap to look at him, anger now simmering in her gaze.

\'You brought me back here for a blow job? I don\'t even get to fuck you?\' her voice had now gone strident with anger. He stood casually, tucking his now limp cock back into his trousers. He pulled up the zip, slipping the button back though the hole. He cast his gaze upon her, his eyes as cold as his voice had been only moments before.

\'Consider yourself lucky that you even got the honor of giving me head. I could have chosen one of the other girls. I chose you. You should be happy with that. Now, you may leave me. I have other things I need to do this evening,\' he told her. She gave him a look that would have killed him, had it been capable of the deed. He chuckled at it. He\'d seen and done much worse.

\'You\'re a dick!\' she spat, then stomped across the floor. She threw the door open, sending her best withering glare at him over her shoulder, then went out the door. He shook his head, wondering why he was having such a difficult time getting Alasdair\'s memory to leave him in peace. He had never in his life been as obsessed with a woman, a person, as he seemed to be with her. He scowled at the thought, then stalked from the room.

He and the band had yet to return to the hotel, so he followed the meandering hallway to the main dressing room, where he knew the rest of the group would be waiting for him. Each man had found a seat in the room. Several of the groupies were milling around behind his band. Deek had one sprawled over his lap. The woman had long dark hair, and her arms were wound around his neck. He was normally one to go for the tall blondes who seemed to think it was their gods given right to be the leaders of the groupie packs. Finding a woman who didn\'t exactly fit his normal tastes sitting in his lap was something of a shock. It appeared to be a week for strange occurances.

\'Severus, I\'d like you to meet Clarette,\' Deek motioned to the woman with one hand. The smile on his face was far too smug for the dark man\'s liking. Severus nodded to the woman, his face never once slipping from it\'s normal blank expression. \'Clarette, the man with the silken pipes. He\'s every woman\'s wet dream come true.\'

A raven colored eye brow went up at that. Deek had never before been known to wax poetic. This woman seemed to have made an impression on the blonde drum god. She smiled up at him, then looked back to Deek. \'He\'s not every woman\'s wet dream,\' she told the blonde. Deek grinned at her.

\' I\'m thinking of taking her with us. I like her,\' Deek\'s voice held a hint of the sexuality that lay beneath the surface. It wasn\'t as evident to the crowd that he was a sexual creature, being as they saw him when he sat behind his kit. Could they see the passion he poured into his playing, they would understand.

\'You\'re prepared to give up the bounty we find each night?\' he asked his drummer. Deek merely nodded, then dipped his head to place a heated kiss on her lips. Severus sighed, looking at the rest of the group. Each one of them wore what he suspected was the prevalent look on his own face. Shock. The blonde drummer was the first of them to have admitted that he was in it for the groupies.

\'Tell me another business where you can have a different woman every night and everyone knows and expects it of you. I love this job!\' he had told them all in the beginning. And he had lived the life every day they\'d been on the road. So it was a surprise to find he\'d picked one woman. Perhaps the obsession Severus was battling had spread. He clenched his jaw in agitation.

\'Dude, you don\'t look happy,\' Turlough shook his head. \'You need to get laid. Don\'t think we haven\'t noticed your less than chipper attitude lately. Pick a woman. We got plenty.\' He waved a hand to the gathered females behind him. Severus allowed his gaze to go over each one. Somehow, he found each of them lacking. He snarled.

\'You\'re right. I do. I\'m going to my hotel room. As I will be busy all evening, I expect you will understand why I will not attend the party tonight. Good evening, gentlemen,\' he inclinded his head at the group, then stalked from the room to return to the hotel. Once there, he intended to find some much needed release for his growing tension. He needed, much to his dismay, Alasdair.

Gods help him......

~*~*~*~*~

Severus tucked his wand back into the interior pocket of the leather bomber jacket he wore. Not that he needed it. It was still midsummer, the temperatures mildly warm, even at eleven p.m. He stared up at the little house before him and frowned. It was a rather humble dwelling, the exterior in desperate need of a paint job. A light shone through one of the windows, telling him someone was home. He made his way up the flower-lined walk to the door, knocking when he stood before it.

Five minutes had passed, with him knocking four more times, before he heard the faint sound of shuffling feet through an open window. He tapped his foot on the cement steps impatiently, wondering if he\'d woken Alasdair up. When the door finally opened, he found himself staring at an older woman who was obviously not well.

Her skin was pallid beyond anything he himself had ever reached. It would have been enviable, had she not been so blatantly ill. There were great black circles rimming eyes that were sunken in a hollow face. Her body was obviously rail thin, if the way her dressing gown hung on her was anything to go by. She wasn\'t eating well, by the looks of things. But he could also see some similarities between her and Alasdair. The same color eyes and hair, though this woman\'s tresses were shot with strands of silver, as well as the same facial structure, marked her as Alasdair\'s mother. He looked down at her, schooling his face into one of his least hostile glances.

\'May I help you?\' she had to clear her voice several times before she could speak at an audible volume. Even then, he could barely hear her.

\' I\'m looking for Alasdair,\' he replied steadily. She looked him up and down, managing a faint smile.

A gentleman caller for my baby,\' she murmured. Then she frowned and sighed, suddenly looking as if she would fall over if hit with a breath of air. \'It\'s a good thing you\'ve come tonight. My husband isn\'t home. If he were...... Well, at any rate, she\'s not home. Dare\'s working tonight.\'

\'And where would that be?\' he enquired, making sure to keep his tone level and sneer-free.

\'Oh, The Pit. It\'s a little diner,\' she informed him.

\'Would you happen to know what the address of it is?\' he questioned, watching as she leaned against the door jamb. He saw the way her body shook and knew she had exhausted herself answering the door. She nodded her head, giving him not only the address but the directions, as well. He managed a faint quirk of his lips, one that he knew could be construed as a smile.

\'Madam, do you require assistance to return to your bed?\' he asked out of the blue, uncertain as to why he was even bothering. It was not in his nature to be concerned for a complete stranger. But this woman was obviously in need of help. She smiled up at him.

\'That\'s very kind of you,\' she replied. \' I could use some help, yes. But I wouldn\'t want to trouble you.\'

\' I assure you, madam. It is no trouble,\' he replied. She stepped back, allowing him to enter. Either she was a trusting fool or she knew something he didn\'t. He could hurt her, rape her, kill her in a heartbeat now that she\'d let him in. But he\'d left that part of his life behind long ago. Instead, he slipped his arm around her and helped her to her bed, following the directions she gave by merely pointing with a limp hand. Once she was settled into the softness of the mattress, he looked down at her. \'Have you seen a Medi....cal person?\'

\' I\'m fine, but thank you for concerning yourself,\' she replied, her eyes already closing. She hadn\'t noticed his near mistake, and he was glad of that. He didn\'t think he\'d be able to adequately explain the term \'Medi-Witch\' and he didn\'t feel like Obliviating anyone\'s memory. \'Lock the door on your way out....\' her voice faded off as she drifted to sleep.

He made sure to turn the lock on his way out the door, stepping out into the night air once more. He waited until he was under the cover of some old trees before pulling his wand and calling out the diner as his destination. He had been working for some time with a spell to help deaden the sound of Apparition. He was at present using one that would muffle it, making it sound like more like a Muggle cap gun.

He was lucky that most people didn\'t notice the strange going ons around them. They preferred to imagine that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. And so it was that no one even took notice when he suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He found himself on the sidewalk across the street from the diner.

It was a small, hole in the wall place that was busy, even this late at night. Either the food was that good, or people went for the atmosphere. He would find out soon enough. Several women hurried from a door on the back wall to the tables and back. Obviously the serving staff. He caught sight of the familiar honey brown hair and almost smiled. He caught himself in time, though, and merely watched her carry a tray that seemed to be as large as herself to a table of what appeared to be boisterous young men.

He stalked across the street, pushing the door open and making his way to a table in the back. He could see the entire diner from here, watch all that went on. A bottle blonde approached his table, her eyes raking his length. She gave a flirtatious smile. \'What can I get you, honey?\' Those were the words she spoke. Her tone gave them the meaning \'You can take me anyway you want\'

\'Coffee. Black,\' he told her, his tone terse. She nodded, then went to fill his order. He watched the door from the back swing open again. Alasdair stepped out, another tray balanced on one of her hands. She headed once again for the table with the boisterous young men. He watched, a scowl marring his features, as they tried to grab at her. She finally slapped one of them on the hand, then backed away and started laughing. The boys were laughing, too. It lead him to believe this was some sort of archaic ritual with them.

He studied her as she moved from one table to the next. She was moving with grace from one group of patrons to another, her smile never waivering. She looked to be at home as she serviced her tables. All the customers she dealt with smiled at her. She chatted with each and every one of them as if they were old friends come to visit. She seemed to enjoy what she was doing.

His waitress brought him his coffee, setting it before him and smiling at him hopefully. He merely nodded his thanks at her, allowing his gaze to stray over the rest of the diner. She soon moved away, a sigh escaping her lips before she\'d gotten out of ear shot. Alasdair headed to the back with her tray, his waitress not far behind. He picked up the coffee, sipping it slowly. It was a very good brew. He settled back to wait. She would see him sooner or later.

~*~*~*~*~

\'Holy shit, you should see the guy that just came in!\' Sheila Hill exclaimed as she stepped into the kitchen. Al turned to look at her for a moment, knowing that the other girl was always finding one dreamy man after another. She loaded up her tray, listening as Sheila went on. \' He\'s fucking hot. Looks like that guy you\'re always drooling over, Al. What\'s his name? That singer you like.\'

\'Severus Snape?\' Al looked back at the blonde, her face showing mild interest.

\'Yeah, that\'s the one. Looks just like him,\' Sheila nodded. Al had to control the urge to go out and check. Her heart had come to life, pounding for a reason she couldn\'t fathom, at the other waitress\'s mention of his name. She forced herself to put the dishes on her tray with a slow, steady hand. She forced herself to step out into the main room of the diner and deliver the order to the tabke that had ordered it. She forced herself to casually glance over her shoulder at the tables she knew Sheila was waiting on.

She had to restrain herself from running over to the table and throwing herself into the lap of it\'s occupant.

Severus Snape was sitting at a table in the diner she worked in. She was sure it was him, would know him anywhere. Even that brief glance over her shoulder confirmed it was him. But how could that be? He and the band were supposed to be in Denver tonight.

The hair was as she remembered it. Long, hanging down his back to somewhere near his waist and obscuring a good portion of his face. As black as a raven\'s wing. The skin was pale, attesting to a lack of time in sunlight. She supposed all nighters weren\'t conducive to getting up before noon. He was decked out in all black. She could see the glittering of his eyes, shielded behind all that hair, watching her intently. From this distance, she couldn\'t be sure if they were black or not. And since most of his face was obscured from view....well, most of his face was abscured from view. It made her doubt herself.

Perhaps it was actually a trick of the light. She only thought she was seeing him. Perhaps it was just a very good double. She supposed she could go over and see. But that would be presumptuous of her, no matter if it were him or not.

Al found herself in a quandry. She had lost some of her certainty so that she now only thought it might be him. If it was, why was he here? In her diner? Surely not to see her. She couldn\'t have left that big an impression on him. Could she have?

\'Hey Al! Order up!\' Mick called through the window that opened into the kitchen. She nodded and headed for the door to the back room. Her brain had to be addled. Mick had never had to tell her an order was ready before. He gave her a look as she loaded her tray. She grinned sheepishly, then was back out the swinging door.

She delivered the food in a fast, efficient manner, making sure the group at the table had everything they needed before stepping away. She made it to the opening in the counter before the hand curled around her arm. When she looked up, she found herself staring into the endless depths of well remembered black eyes. \'Good evening, Alasdair.\'

The dark, silken voice slithered down her spine like a lover\'s caress. She shivered in his grasp, then managed to drum up a smile for him. She wasn\'t loosing her mind. She was as sane as she had even been. It really was him. How, she wasn\'t sure. But it was him. \'Severus,\' she got out quietly.

\'You remember. I\'m flattered,\' he said, his voice lacking any definable emotion. She bit her lower lip, to keep from laughing.

\' I\'m sorry. But I thought you were in Denver,\' she gestured to his table. He lead her there wordlessly. He sat, but she stood, staring down at him. When he motioned with his hand to the opposite bench, she shook her head. \' I can\'t. I\'m on duty at the moment.\'

\'Oh, yes. Work,\' he let his black gaze travel around the diner once more. She got the distinct impression he was measuring her and The Pit up. She waited in silence until his gaze came back to hers once more. \'Quite the elegant restaurant.\'

\'Oh, I know it\'s not much to look at, and I don\'t really get paid much. But the people are great. Both those I work with and those that eat here. I have my regulars. They come in once a week or so. You can set a clock by them, they\'re so regular,\' she told him, chuckling at the last of it. He quirked an eyebrow at her. She gestured to the people around her.

He had to admit, each one of the patrons there were smiling and laughing. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves, even though the place was little more than a dive. Oh, it was neat and clean inside. The tables were scrubbed promptly after the person or persons who had been sitting there left. But it was an old establishment. The building was worn and tired. It gave the small diner a warm, friendly atmosphere. He thought it to be rather like a pair of comfortable shoes, well worn and just the right fit.

\'There certainly seems to be a pleasant air about the place,\' he commented, suddenly finding himself lacking anything more intelligent to say. How that had happened, he couldn\'t say. But he found himself merely wanting to look his fill at the petite woman before him. Odd as it was to him. He never thought on a woman past the amount of time it took for her to leave his room. This one had occupied his thoughts for the entire last week. Surely no woman was worth that kind of brain activity.

\' I like it here,\' she said softly, the warmth in her tone unmistakable. Even for someone as cold as him.

\'How much longer do you have to work?\' he inquired, lifting the cup sitting before him to sip at the still hot coffee. She glanced over her shoulder at the big clock on the wall. It was now nearly eleven thirty.

\'Until one. Then I\'m off,\' she replied. Al knew it was a long time, but she hoped he would stay. She knew it was silly, but she was getting the distinct impression that he had come specifically to see her. She almost smiled at that, then she recalled that he was supposed to be in Denver. \'Um, not to sound rude, but how did you get here? You\'re supposed to be in Denver tonight.\'

\' It is of no concern,\' he shrugged the matter off as if it were nothing. \'What is important is that I am here. And I should like to spend time with you. What do you recommend I try from the menu?\'

\'Um...... the hamburger and fries are really good, if you like that kind of thing. Then there\'s the breakfast menu. I prefer the two egg breakfast. Toast, hash browns, and your choice of meat,\' she told him, her tone vaguely professional. He fought not to smirk at that, lapsing instead into thoughtful silence.

\'Breakfast it is,\' he replied. She nodded, pulling a pad of paper and pencil from one of the pockets on the apron she wore. She began writing on the rectangle of paper.

\'How do you want your eggs? White or wheat toast? Ham, sausage, or bacon?\'

\' I should like my eggs over easy, wheat toast, and sausage, thank you,\' he replied. Her hand moved over the pad she held, the sound of the pencil\'s lead scratching on the surface of the paper.

\'Any juice to go with that? Or milk?\' He declined anything other than his coffee and watched as she put the order in. It was only about fifteen minutes later that Al came over to his table with two plates in her hands. One contained the main portion of his breakfast, while the other held his toast. She set it before him with a flourish, pulling a couple of small white rectangular things that turned out to be, upon closer inspection, packets of jelly.

She sauntered off, moving from one table to the next, cleaning and chatting. He watched her as she went, wondering how she made such a menial job look easy and enjoyable. The patrons at her tables were friendly with her, treating her with a great deal of respect. She finished her circuit of the tables and headed for the back.

He ate in silence, his gaze constantly following her when she was out front. She seemed to have boundless energy, always moving with a spring in her step. She looked fresh, as if she had just gotten out of bed. He frowned, wondering why he was focusing on her so much. He\'d had his share of women since he\'d joined the band. He\'d seen every color of eyes and skin, every shade of hair a person could imagine. And none of them had stuck with him the way this small slip of a woman had. It was enough to make even the most hardened of the Death Eaters want to toss up his lunch.

They\'d laugh to see him in such a state.

He still couldn\'t figure out how she\'d managed it. How she\'d found her way inside of his head and made a home for herself there. He\'d tried to find some way to push her out, to dislodge her memory. But it wouldn\'t let go. He could still, a week later, recall the feel of her silken lips around his cock. Said organ twitched, joining him in the memory. His fingers could accurately recall the exact texture of her hair as it slid through them. In short, he had her memorized. In every way.

He wanted her, right here and now. On the table. Customers be damned. By the Gods above, he was in trouble. He made a determined effort to push her to the back of his mind and concentrate on something else. Anything else. It was difficult, but he managed to do so.

Instead, his mind turned to the woman that had met him at the door of the little house. He was certain the woman was Alasdair\'s mother. There were similarities in their looks that he could not dismiss. It was obvious to him that the woman was ill. He wasn\'t sure how bad it was. But he knew she would most likely benefit from the attentions of a good Muggle doctor. Even a Medi Witch, should she ever find herself in the presence of one. The thought crossed his mind that her condition was, perhaps, curable with a potion or potions.

He caught the line of thought and called himself a fool. He had no business worrying about some woman he knew nothing about. Just as he had no business obsessing over some woman he\'d picked from a crowd for a little bit of physical release. And yet, here he was. Sitting at a worn table in the diner where said woman worked. Waiting for her to get off, so he could take her out somewhere and shag her.

He couldn\'t find a groupie who would satisfy him at the venue. No. He had to Apparate to another state and go in search of a girl he had taken to his bed once. He was disgusted with himself. This was positively insane of him to be doing. And yet, he still sat by the worn table top, waiting for her to get off. He decided then and there that he was in need of some help.

The bell on the front door tinkled, bringing his gaze up to it. An older woman entered, moving with a determined stride toward the opening in the counter. Obviously another staff member. She went into the back, and he put her from his mind. His gaze sought the clock on the wall and found it to be five minutes to one. He\'d been lost in thought for nearly a full hour and a half.

Brenda found Allie standing in the break room, excitement written all over her face. She looked up at the older woman and a huge smile broke over her face. She went over to the other waitress and hugged her tightly. When they split, Brenda set her away and stared at her. \'Alright, spill it. What\'s got you so excited?\'

\'He\'s here!\' Al nearly shouted it out. It was an effort to control her voice. When Brenda gave her a look of confusion, she continued on. \'Severus. He\'s here! He came here to see me!\'

\'You\'re kidding, Allie,\' Brenda looked shocked. Allie shook her head, biting her lips to keep from bursting out in joy. The other woman shook her head, then went back over to the door and looked out. In the corner sat a man with long black hair and a rather pale complexion. He was wearing a black t-shirt and appeared to be looking at the spot where she was standing. It couldn\'t be.

\'You\'re certain that\'s him?\' Brenda asked, a little bit of her skepticism in her voice. Al nodded, now a touch more composed. She was still grinning, but she didn\'t look as if she was going to bounce out of control now. \'Well then, go on. Don\'t keep the man waiting.\'

\'Thanks, Brenda. You\'re the best!\' she dashed over to hug the other woman, then punched herself out and practically ran out of the staff room. Brenda chuckled, enjoying the show of youthful exuberance. It was a joy to see on the girl after some of the days she\'d spent crying her eyes out. Brenda clocked herself in and pushed the staff room door open in time to see Allie and the musician walk out the door, his hand holding hers, pulling her along after him.

\'Be careful, Allie,\' she whispered at the empty doorway. \'Don\'t go and lose your head.\'

end chapter five.
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thanks go to my beta and my little support group. you all know who you are and why i love you. thanks a million for all the kind words and encouragement. it means alot to me.

to red, jen, sillymom001, and kenly.... here you go. MORE!

if you like it, please leave a little review or some suggestions or even some constructive criticism.