Bonds of Affection

Harry was looking at Severus expectantly, grinning, as Severus pronounced calmly:



“The terms are the same as before. You will remain by my side at all times, unless told otherwise, until your detention is served.”



“How long will that be?” Harry asked, the wide grin never fading from his face.



“Until I am satisfied that you have acquired some common sense, or until we both die of old age – whichever comes sooner.”



They ate together, with Harry cooking the breakfast, and cleaning up.



“Now, I recall a certain someone pledging his assistance with, and I quote, my stupid plants,” Severus said with satisfaction. “Shall we proceed to the greenhouse then?”



Over the next three days, they spent long stretches of time in the enormous large greenhouse adjacent to the Manor. Together, they were harvesting Dittany leaves, collecting Jupiter Poppy pods, and and digging up Oily Tulip bulb. As Severus worked, Harry was watching him, copying his every move. From time to time, Harry took short breaks to molest Severus, sliding hands under his shirt, or pressing his face to his back. Severus made several half-hearted attempts to dissuade him:



“Mr. Potter, it is very difficult to focus on the work... when....you.... insist on.... engaging in... irrelevancies....”



Each night, they went to bed absolutely and utterly worn out, Harry placing his head on Severus\' shoulder, before falling asleep.



“This is my favorite part of the detention,” Harry said dreamily. But truth be told, he did not mind any of it.



In the late afternoon of the third day of the detention, their work, as outlined by Severus, was complete. Harry stretched blissfully, and looked up, noticing that the sky above the glass cover of the greenhouse turned grey. Almost immediately it began to rain, the heavy drops pounding against the transparent roof.



“All finished,” Severus said quietly, setting the bagged harvested plants aside. Harry nodded silently, as he sat on the edge of the enormous flower bed, listening to the sound of the rain with a faint smile. Somewhere at a great distance a lightning flashed across the sky, and a faint rumble of thunder followed a few seconds later. Harry shivered slightly. “What\'s wrong?” Severus asked softly.



Harry just shook his head. “Not wrong,” he said tiredly. “It\'s beautiful... all of it.... you... the smell.. the stupid plants... the rain; everything... so beautiful... I could do this forever...” He felt a lump in his throat and stared down at his dirty hands.



“And...?” Severus prodded gently.



“And I almost threw it all away for nothing,” Harry whispered resignedly. “That was beyond stupid.”



Severus sat down next to him, took his face in his earth-covered hands and kissed him. “Just the words I\'ve been waiting to hear.”



Harry returned the kiss, first hesitantly and guiltily, then passionately. Then, as inspiration struck, Harry pulled out of the kiss, reached for his wand, and pronounced a single spell - “Propatulo ” - making the glass ceiling above them disappear.



Severus opened his eyes wide in shock, watching the heavy streams of rainfall engulf them and drench them both head to toe almost instantly. The torrents of rain smashed against the delicate leaves and flower petals, uprooting the most fragile plants, and breaking the thinnest blades of grass. Severus glared at Harry dangerously, but Harry just laughed. “Don\'t tell me you didn\'t want me to do this.”



“I most certainly did not want you to wreck my entire greenhouse!” Severus snarled, but made no move to close the roof, as Harry\'s muddied hands were already ripping off his wet shirt. As the rain water streamed down his face, Harry asked with a wicked smirk:



“Well – Professor, are you going to glare, or are you going to push my face in the dirt, and fuck me?”



Severus laughed out loud with cheerful self-abandon, like he never had before, to the best of Harry\'s recollection. He ripped Harry\'s shirt off in one swift motion, and then practically shook him out of his clothing. Without being prompted, Harry collapsed into the moist soil on his hands and knees, crushing the herbs and flowers, his forehead pressing to the wet earth. He felt the rain pound on his back, he felt Severus grasp his buttocks and caress them briefly, and then part his cheeks. A sleek finger entered him, then joined by another, and Harry pushed back against them furiously, with his elbows being firmly planted into the soil. Not a moment too soon, he felt an erect member enter him, and open him in one thrust, and he cried out as it struck against his prostate. He sank his fingers into the dirt, grabbing fistfuls of fragile grass in a futile attempt to steady himself, but the force of the thrusts continued to propel him forward relentlessly.



As the rain fell on them, Severus continued to move inside him, and Harry was overwhelmed by everything at once – the furious thrusts that shook his entire body, the muscles of his channel feeling every vein and slightest irregularity of the member buried within him, the smell of crushed leaves, the floods of water streaming around him, and the faint, dangerous sound of thunder in the distance. He cried out loud again and again, feeling his orgasm approach; and then, involuntarily, he felt it spill underneath him. A second later, having climaxed inside him, Severus stopped, and pulled out of him, holding his hips steadily with his hands.



Harry collapsed on his belly into the mud with a pitiful whimper. He lay quietly, breathing deeply, only now realizing that the rain had slowed down from a furious flood to an unhurried trickle falling measuredly from the darkened sky.



“How is it,” Severus whispered menacingly, grabbing the back of Harry\'s neck with his hand, “that you manage to get into mischief, and spread utter chaos even during your detention?”



“It\'s a gift,” Harry said serenely. Exhausted, they lay next to each other in the mud, as the rainwater trickled around them in rivulets, collecting into murky puddles. Small pieces of leaves, torn petals, and blades of grass floated in them, spreading the smell of crushed greenery in the air. Harry reached to embrace Severus and heard his heartbeat.



“You know why I do it, don\'t you?” Harry asked quietly. “Why I spread chaos, vex you, tease you... pull your hair?”



“Please enlighten me,” Severus drawled contemptuously. “For at this point, I am confident that this is my penance for the years of substandard, unenthusiastic teaching.”



“Those things I do ... they are like.... our Secret-Keepers,” undeterred, Harry whispered in his ear. “They hide a secret... they hide something that nobody else can now.... that I am yours... that you are my Master - in a way that nobody can understand... not really.... no matter how many goddamn books they read ....”



“Oh yes, indeed,” Severus mocked, not at all mollified. “It is such a well-protected secret, that I myself find it difficult to believe on most occasions.”



Unconcerned, Harry laughed out loud. “Well, you could cane me if you wanted to...” he said, taking Severus\' hand and placing it against his hip. “Severus -- if I ever annoy you for real, even a little bit – discipline me. Or discipline me just if you think I\'m getting out of hand. Or if you simply think it\'s time.”



Severus sighed slightly and shook his head. Harry\'s heart clenched slightly, as he felt the long fingers caress his wet buttocks, trailing against the scars littering them.



“I can\'t,” Severus said softly. “Not after what you have gone through... Harry - how could I ever lay a hand on you again? It would be a betrayal, if not worse...”



Harry glanced at him with a sad smile. “So what are you saying? No more chamber of secrets? No more canings?”



“Some things are best left behind, don\'t you think?” To Harry\'s surprise, there was no trace of regret in Severus\' voice.



Harry moved around in the mud, leaning against Severus, and rested his head in the crook of his arm. “Whatever you choose,” Harry said firmly. “I really do want to be yours. On your own terms. ...” he shifted himself slightly and pressed his lips to the arm that supported him. “But – for myself – just like I would rather not have my last memory of cooking be for my stupid uncle and his family... I don\'t really want my last memory of being chained, or whipped to be in Voldemort\'s dungeons...” he rubbed his cheek against Severus\' shoulder, leaving traces of mud on his skin.



Severus stroked his muddied back gently. “I don\'t want to create a distance between us,” he said quietly.



“You won\'t,” Harry whispered. “It\'s... when you do it, it\'s different. I mean.. pain is still pain, but when it comes from you, it changes meaning.... and when you are first about to strike, the fear is like it\'s the most terrible thing in the world, but I still want it - and when it hits, in the moment it feels like nothing could possibly hurt more.. but then, when you touch me afterwards, it\'s like nothing could possibly feel better...” He buried his face in the crook of Severus\' arm again. “I think I just talked my way into a fierce caning, didn\'t I?” he whispered with sudden dread.



“Perhaps,” Severus chuckled. “Or perhaps, something worse. Foolish little Gryffindor.”



“I know,” Harry groaned. “Don\'t laugh. It\'s not funny.”



“Oh, but I daresay it is.”



“I disagree. It\'s tragic, really,” Harry muttered, half-laughing himself.



“If you say so,” Severus said, lifting himself off the ground, and extending his hand to Harry. “Get up, brat.”



Severus collected the bags of recently harvested herbs off the ground, while Harry surveyed the wreckage of the greenhouse with dismay. “I really caused this?” he whispered with awe, staring at the crushed plants, and pools of dirty water around them.



Severus nodded gravely.



“Shit,” Harry said quietly. “This isn\'t good, is it?”



Severus shook his head somberly, even though the corner of his mouth was twitching into a smirk.



“Oh, fuck, it was worth it. I made you laugh.”



To Be Continued ....