Fire Call

If there was such a thing as a favourable time to ask Severus a question, with the specific intent of receiving a positive reply, that moment was close at hand.

Harry let his head fall back, further exposing the column of his neck for Snape’s tongue to attend. He bit into the fleshy bottom lip and lifted his leg higher, silently congratulating himself as Snape took full advantage and sunk further into the tight heat.

“You know,” Harry bit out between punishing strokes, ignoring the guttural grunts that meant Snape was nearing completion, “I’ve been thinking, and – “

“Could this possibly wait?” Snape said through gritted teeth, hands slipping under Harry’s arse to lift him further off the bed.

Harry gasped as a particularly well-aimed thrust bruised his prostate. Snape seized his ankles for support and began earnestly pounding him into the mattress.

“Oh y-yeah,” Harry chattered, “love this, bet you’d love it too, Severus.”

The falter in stride was imperceptible, but the narrowed eyes made Harry’s breath catch. Palming his cock with relentless ferocity, Harry let out a series of long, harsh pants, hoping they weren’t suspiciously louder than usual.

“Oh that’s – mmm – so good – Gods, I love having you inside me,” he babbled, thrilled when their eyes met, “being filled is fantastic, Severus.”

This time, Snape did hesitate, palms slapping down either side of Harry’s head and bringing his nose so close that Harry’s eyes crossed.

“You’re up to something,” Snape accused, punctuating this with a short, sharp thrust.

“What?” Harry laughed nervously, “don’t be ridiculous! We’re having sex for crying out loud, what could I possibly be up to?” To prove his point, he gave his prick a few quick tugs and moaned his approval, deliberately clenching around the thick intrusion.

Snape grunted and sat back on his haunches, eyeing Harry speculatively before resuming a breathtaking pace. Merlin, it didn’t just feel good, it felt fantastic, and Harry loved the stretch Snape’s cock demanded of him, loved that initial gasp-inducing moment when his lover pressed inside. He honestly couldn’t get enough of having Severus glide hot and heavy into him, but for just one night, Harry needed to know what it would feel like to have Snape beneath him, opening under his touch, welcoming Harry inside his body. He wanted to watch the black eyes smoulder as he buried himself in fiery heat, observe how Snape’s mouth might fall open under the perfectly angled thrusts; thrusts that Harry would make sure nailed Snape’s prostate over and over again...

“Oh God!” Harry cried, grappling with Snape’s bony shoulders as his climax took him by surprise, his unmanned cock free to spray his stomach and thighs with a fountain of fluid. Snape hissed as Harry’s fingernails dug in, urging him down into a fierce kiss. He managed to get a hand between them and wrest the end of Harry’s orgasm, final tremors coinciding with the intense onslaught of his own. Harry met the last wild slam of Snape’s hips with a ragged cry, wrapping grateful arms around his lover and groaning in a mixture of pleasure and envy as Snape gave a hoarse shout and flooded him.

“I want to come inside you!” Harry blurted, as they collapsed in a sweaty tangle.

***

“Well I don’t see why not,” Harry said crossly, trying and failing to charm the pieces of a baby’s mobile together, “Ron does.”

Behind the newspaper, Snape complimented his long sigh with an exaggerated shudder.

“I mean, I know it’s not the same, what with Hermione being a girl and all, but even so, I’d really like it if you would at least talk about this.”

The Prophet sailed past his head and Snape followed the trajectory with a blistering glare.

“Have I, at any point in the previous seven months, given you the impression that I would willingly engage in a discussion of your friends’ sex life?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Harry snapped, throwing the mobile down in frustration, “I want to know why you won’t even consider letting me top.”

Snape made a disgusted grimace and refused to meet Harry’s eye. “I do not bottom, Potter. I have never bottomed. I do not plan on bottoming in this lifetime. Should I be unlucky enough to experience reincarnation in the next life as a woman, or worse, some hapless animal that has no choice but to receive such attention, then I will accept my fate without question. Until then...”

Snape drew himself up off the sofa and stalked towards the bathroom.

“You stubborn git!” Harry shouted at the retreating form, “and what if I don’t feel like bottoming anymore?”

Crap. He hadn’t actually meant to say that, not in so many blunt words, anyway. Snape paused mid-stride and turned carefully, a wicked smile spreading his thin lips.

“Then don’t,” he said simply, with a tilt of the head.

The smirk infuriated Harry more than usual. “Fine. I won’t, then.” He crossed his arms.

“Well, then,” Snape shot back, voice dangerously low, “it appears we have reached an impasse.”

Harry frowned, but Snape had already disappeared through the doorway. Almost immediately, the sound of running water could be heard, and Harry huffed quietly to himself. Was it really asking too much? He didn’t think so, but who would give him an honest answer? Ron would likely run a mile if Harry said he wanted a heart to heart about his and Severus’ bedroom antics. Especially the ones of late that seemed to involve the use of butt plugs and restraints. He had never thought of himself as kinky, but Severus definitely had a playful streak and Harry was only too happy to explore the older man’s ideas. So why wouldn’t Snape listen to his?

Harry waited until the taps shut off and another few minutes passed before he charged into the bathroom to renew his verbal assault.

“Look, I – what are you—oh my God! Are you wanking?!”

“Your powers of observation are incredible, Potter. I am amazed you have yet to be headhunted by the Unspeakables.”

Snape lay the length of the bath, submerged in the steamy water, idly stroking his cock while Harry stared in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious! Stop it! Why are you doing this?” He wanted to whack Snape’s hand away and stroke the wet length with his own, but he steeled himself to remain loitering in the doorway.

“If your question is: do I intend to bring myself to orgasm, Potter, then yes. And should you take issue with that, you are most welcome to rectify it by joining me, whereupon you may ease your most assuredly ‘bottom’ bottom onto my cock.”
Harry wanted to drag his gaze away and act like he couldn’t care less, but the image of his naked, bath-bound lover pleasuring himself was like molten lava in his veins. He felt a nasty tightening in his trousers and a twinge of something mutinous in his mind. No, dammit, he wasn’t going to give in to such blatant blackmail.
“No thanks, and are you going to be long, because I need to use the toilet,” he said as nonchalantly as he could, crossing his legs and willing his traitorous cock to stop responding. Did the man have to pinch his nipples so bloody provocatively?
Snape made his ‘as you please,’ face and sped up the strokes to his shaft, thumbing the slit and twisting the base at the end of each tug.

Harry choked back a groan and swallowed it, absolutely forbidding his hand from slipping down to his own aching erection. “One civilised conversation, Severus, that’s all it would take and I’ll get in there with you.”
Snape grunted; in agreement or pleasure Harry couldn’t determine, but the sound reached out and curled around him, pulling him closer to the bath. He forced his feet to walk past and sat on the toilet seat instead. Snape’s head had fallen back against the white ceramic tiles, strands of damp black hair sticking to it, eyes closed to Harry’s penetrating stare while his hand continued to work his cock. Harry could tell Snape was getting close, and he bit his lip savagely, willing the other man to say something.

“If—“ Snape took a deep shuddering breath, “it is your wish that I come inside you, then I suggest you undress this instant.”
Harry jumped up and began to unbutton his shirt. “And then we’ll talk, yeah?”
“No.”
“No?!” His hands stopped moving and he sat back down again. Merlin, the man was infuriating! Torn between the desire to admit defeat or drown the bastard, Harry did neither, worrying the skin around his thumbnail instead. Snape’s breathing became increasingly laboured, each caress seeming to swell and engorge the head of his cock, and Harry could only watch in dismay as bead after bead of pearly liquid seeped from the brutally red tip.
“Well?” Snape ground out, cracking open one obsidian eye, “Are you getting in or not?”
Harry’s eyes were glued to Snape’s groin, and he clutched desperately at the rim of the toilet seat, a small, outwardly insignificant action that pleased him immensely, because it was the only thing keeping him from jumping to his feet and ripping his clothes off.
“I’ll wrap my mouth around your cock, all you have to do is have a conversation,” Harry said hoarsely, licking his dry lips. “I want to taste you, Severus, just a few words can make it happen.”
Snape appeared to lose control of his hips as they thrust between the breaking surface of warm water and cool air, slippery fingers creating all sorts of delicious-looking friction. “No.”
Harry slid off of the toilet seat and walked on his knees to the edge of the bath, bringing his deliberately pouty mouth within mere inches of the bulging flesh. Snape gripped himself tighter the closer Harry got. His breath skimmed the water and whispered across Snape’s cock, and Harry was sure the man was about to give in, but the words remained stuck in his throat. Snape clenched his teeth and pumped himself furiously, a loud guttural grunt escaping his lips instead.
Harry watched in bitter disappointment as the wasted ejaculate arced through the air and hit the water, the pearlescent sheen briefly distinguishable before dissolving into the bath water. Snape slumped back and breathlessly raised an eyebrow, and Harry cursed loudly before storming out.
***

Four days later, early on Sunday evening, Snape returned from A Very Important Seminar in Bolivia, Flooing into their living room to be confronted with the sight of a very exposed Harry Potter holding a newly acquired copy of Swish and Flick in one hand, and leisurely finger fucking himself with the other.
Snape glowered and brushed an annoying lock of hair from his eye. “Am I correct in assuming you wish me to drop to my knees and give in to your childish demands?” he sneered, looking like he was forcibly repressing the urge to do just that.
Harry glanced up over the top of his magazine and smiled warmly. “Only if you want to, this—oh!” His mouth contracted into a perfect round circle and his eyes rolled back a little.
Harry fixed Snape with his best come hither look, noting the tiny twitch under the left eye, lean lips pressed tightly together. The expanding bulge beneath Snape’s robes left no doubt as to the effect he was having on his lover. Harry threw the magazine to the floor and trailed a hand down his stomach.
“All this drama just to get your own way.” Snape growled, “Perhaps your motivation for withholding sex indicates a lessening desire for me.”
Soft fingertips found wrinkled flesh as Harry fondled his sac and moaned. “Actually it’s quite the opposite, I want you badly, Severus, you know I do, but I—fuck—“
Harry push a third finger through the tight ring of muscle, willing himself to go deaf so he wouldn’t be forced to acknowledge the tense silence building between them. He knew how he must look, stretched out naked on the sofa, obscene and erotic, but he was still surprised to see Snape working away the buttons of his robe and crossing the room.

“Gonna fuck me?” Harry gasped, eyes alight and burning brightly with unfulfilled desire as he watched the other man kneel beside the settee.

“Admit defeat, Potter, I will never acquiesce to your pathetic demands under duress.” Snape reached out with the intention of trailing a finger along the inside of Harry’s thigh, but Harry slapped him away.

“Then I’m still off limits.”

With ingenious timing, Harry nailed his prostate. His hips jerked off the sofa, causing his cock to bounce and inadvertently brush Snape’s arm, still hovering nearby.

“Dammit boy!” he snapped. Harry crowed internally as Snape’s fists clenched, obviously itching to grab his ankles and force them apart so he could sink himself into the tight channel, but he leapt to his feet and paced the length of the sofa instead. Harry continued to scissor his fingers, in and out, harder and faster, his gaze never leaving Snape’s face.

“Come on, Severus, I’m ready for you, stretched, hot, tight,” he purred. “Come here and fuck me.”

“I will not,” Snape hissed, “be subjected to bribery every time you cannot get your own way.”

“It’s not an unreasonable request,” Harry panted out mid- thrust.

He caught Snape’s eye, and for the briefest moment he saw what Snape saw; a writhing mass of wild hair and fierce eyes. His loosely slicked entrance just begging to be pounded into the cushions, his twitching, dribbling cock fully deserving to be battered to completion as punishment for all the infuriating conflict Harry was putting him through.

“Potter!” Snape protested, when Harry could no longer keep his eyes open. He loved how Snape’s voice sounded dangerously akin to needy, how his breathing had become short and ragged.

“Severus, please,” he whined in response, balls drawing up tightly into his body. “Gonna...oh fuck...too late...”

Snape watched gloomily as Harry gave a violent shudder, face contorted in pleasure as milky white seed spilled over his fingers. The evidence of orgasm in the palm of his hand, Harry slicked his spent cock with it and gave it a few more feeble tugs before blinking coyly through lowered lashes.

“Oh,” he said, faking surprise and sucking his lip into his mouth. Snape’s vicious snarl left no doubt in Harry’s mind that he wanted to bite that lip; savagely, and then tear it off.

Without another word, Snape stalked to the bedroom and slammed the door in his wake.

***

Harry squinted into the dregs of his teacup, desperate to see a mosaic of tealeaves predicting his fortune. Or more precisely, prophesising that he might get laid soon.

“What’s with the scowl? That tea no good?” Ron chirped, disgustingly over-happy in Harry’s opinion.

“The tea is fine, Ron. I was just – never mind.”

Ron dropped his chin to the table like a scolded puppy and stared until Harry looked at him. “What then, mate? You’ve had a face like a smacked arse on you all – oh Merlin! Did Snape, y’know...smack your...urgh.”

Ron winced against a rather obvious assault of mental images and Harry tutted.

“Well if he had, you’ve made it pretty obvious I can’t talk to you about it.”

Ron’s eyes widened. “Oh no, no, that wasn’t – look, you know you can tell me anything, it’s just – “

“Yeah, I know. Snape.”

Ron shrugged unapologetically, “I’ll get over it. Come on, tell me.”

“It’s nothing serious, he just refuses to talk to me about this – uh – thing, and this thing isn’t even really that big a thing, I mean, it shouldn’t be, for him, I don’t think, but he’s just selfish and Gods, so infuriating!”

Harry kicked the chair leg in frustration. Startled, Ron flinched and smacked his knee on the table.

“Sounds pretty serious to me,” he grimaced, rubbing his leg.

“Maybe,” Harry conceded, “but the worst thing is we’re not even doing – you know – because of this thing.”

Ron grinned and playfully cuffed Harry’s shoulder, “in it together, then mate. Hermione won’t let me anywhere near her either. Not that I could even if she gave me the green light... size of bleeding Hogwarts she is now.”

Harry cracked a smile and glanced around, realising for the first time since he’d arrived that the Burrow was ominously quiet.

“Where is she anyway? I wanted to cop a feel of my godson.”

Ron looked glum. “Le Mans class or something. I was all for it, but she went mental when I suggested going! Apparently it’s birthing techniques and not the car rally in France. She could have said before I booked a hotel. Shame really, reckon we need a break before the baby comes along.”

Harry nodded sympathetically. “Why don’t you both come to dinner? It’s been ages since I saw you together.”

“What?” Ron said nervously, “With – “

“Snape, yes,” Harry sighed, “we’ve been together seven months, Ron, just get over it.”

“Well, okay, if you’re sure, I mean, shouldn’t you ask him first or something?”

Harry snorted. “For permission? I’m not his student any more, I can have whoever I like over. Anyway, if he can make it through a weekend with Sirius, I’m sure you and Hermione won’t present too much of a challenge.”

“S’not him who’ll be challenged,” Ron whined, but at Harry’s pleading look, he dropped his eyes to the table. “Alright, just – in the next four weeks yeah? Before the baby.”

“Brilliant. I’ll check his diary with the secretary from Hell and make sure he’s not away.

Ron nodded as though he’d agreed to his own execution. He summoned the teapot and poured them both another cup.

“So,” he rallied a moment later, “how many hexes did you throw to get Sirius and the greasy git in a room together?”

***

“Miss Jennings?” Harry called into the Floo, trying to peer through the murky haze into the office beyond.

“Mr Potter – Mr Snape is out of the office, a Wholesale Potions fair in Milton Keynes, if I am not mistaken, which I rarely am.”

“Well, of course,” Harry muttered, refraining from adding ‘how could you be when you’re the female embodiment of my lover?’

“Then if there’s nothing else?” she chided impatiently.

“Actually, there is. Can you check his diary and give me a date in the next four weeks when he’ll be home in time for dinner?”

“Oh! Oh – “

Harry frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “Er, everything all right?”

“Oh well yes, of course, of course. Look, I, ah, this might seem terribly unprofessional of me, but Mr Snape has been in rather a foul mood this last week – “ Harry heard the unspoken ‘more than usual’ “and I was simply thinking how a romantic evening for two might be just the thing to get him back on track.”

Harry blinked. “Pardon?”

“Please don’t take offence, Mr Potter. I have no desire to stick my nose into your private lives but – well, this is a little delicate – I found a book, you see, on Mr Snape’s desk and ah – look, I’ll send it through to you, and perhaps you’ll understand. Page forty-five in particular appears to have been used well.”

Miss Jennings gave an embarrassed little cough as she tidied rolls of parchment and retrieved a slim, paperback.

“Here we are. You would be doing me a great favour if you could return it before Mr Snape comes in tomorrow. And with regards to your original enquiry, he has next Thursday, the following Friday and the last Saturday of the month free.”

Harry caught the paper missile mid-air and opened his mouth to thank the prim witch, but she had already cut the connection. Scooting back from the fire, he hauled himself onto the sofa and turned the book over in his hands, mouth falling open in shock when his eyes fell upon the title.

Gay Sex for Wizards: 101 Questions (and answers)

Harry let the book fall open, and indeed the astute Miss Jennings had been correct; page forty-five opened naturally where the spine had been bent. Evidently, someone had read and re-read this particular page rather frequently.

Question 36. My lover is keen to top, but I am uncomfortable with the role of bottoming.

While the roles of each seem to be neatly delineated at the start, time and familiarity blur the lines between what it means to be the ‘top’ and ‘bottom’. As a relationship matures, couples begin to trust one another more as a result of increasing mutual respect and love for each other.

This opens more possibilities for them, including in bed. This could include, for instance, indulging in fetishes and switching roles. After all, what’s a bit of pain when you know that your bottom boyfriend is having a rocking time taking you from behind?

The same someone who had creased the corner of the page, Harry thought with a smirk, had also underlined the last sentence twice in vicious red ink. So Severus wasn’t eager to discuss the situation, but he was obviously contemplating it. All of a sudden, Harry felt much more optimistic. Settling into the sofa, he flipped through the rest of the book.

Question 48. I've always been a bottom boy, but lately I've wanted to try topping, but each time I do, I end up losing my erection. I don’t want to have to resort to Manio Rigida but I’m running out of ideas.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. What if Severus agreed to let him top and he, Harry, couldn’t get it up? Or worse, if it wouldn’t go in? He flicked to another page without reading the answer and pretended not to have seen.

Question 22: My boyfriend’s penis is bigger than mine. Is he secretly disappointed with me, and if so, would a quick Engorgio do the trick?

As a short term solution, Engorgio would indeed add inches to your manhood, but if you’re in a long term relationship, it is not advisable to cast this spell repeatedly. There have been reported cases of permanent penile dysfunction and whilst the Sexual Maladies ward at St Mungos have helped to cure some of these poor wizened-willied Wizards, not all could be saved.

It is important to remember that sometimes men with relatively small flaccid penises grow to a larger size when erect, while their larger counterparts don't show as much growth when aroused. Thus the terms, grower and shower.

Harry snickered, then realised he was giggling like a school child.

“Something amusing?”

“Oh God,” Harry gasped, clutching at his chest, which was suddenly awarded the task of containing his wildly thumping heart, “do you have to creep up on me like that? I thought you were in Milton Keynes!”

Severus began unbuttoning his coat and stepped into the living room. “I came through the front door. How, precisely, might you construe that as creeping? If you must know; Milton Keynes, for all of its excellent conferencing facilities, bears an aroma not dissimilar to Phoenix flatulence. And you have not yet answered my original question.”

Harry shifted guilty and tried to stuff the book down the side of the sofa, but Snape’s keen gaze picked up on the movement.

“More pornography?” he sneered, walking past and settling in the armchair.

“No,” Harry said petulantly, attempting to disguise the quaver in his voice, “I don’t sit here wanking all day, you know.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “Indeed? And there was I, labouring under the misapprehension that sexual gratification is forever at the forefront of your amoebic mind.”

Harry scowled and went to the kitchen, returning moments later clad in oven gloves and holding a serving dish.

“Here,” he said, shoving it under Snape’s nose, “that’s what I’ve been doing today, preparing a special dinner for us to enjoy. But since you evidently don’t expect much from me – “ Harry whipped his wand out and Banished the non-magically prepared pumpkin and aubergine lasagne to the bin,“ – I shan’t bother trying to exceed your expectations again.”

Snape’s nostrils, he noted with satisfaction, had quivered slightly when assailed by the delicious wafts. Now, however, they were quivering with something else entirely.

“You are unbelievable!” Snape bellowed, every muscle in his face taut with fury as he sprung to his feet, “I declined an invitation to the convention feast, purely so that we might spend the evening together!”

“Well you shouldn’t have bothered!” Harry shouted back, feeling the first thrills of sexual excitement course through him at how close their faces were. Gods, Snape was vicious in bed when he was pissed off. And now wouldn’t exactly be a bad time to cave in on the topping issue; especially not when he knew his lover was at least going someway to consider it. Besides, it had been a week since this feud had started, and by Harry’s reckoning, he was owed seven day’s worth of reconciliatory sex.

“I cannot recall a single reason why I did! Expecting you to demonstrate adequate housekeeping is more foolish than sticking one’s head in an oven! Which, given your aversion to sanitising it, would likely finish me off with a bacterial infection before the fumes managed to impart any harm!”

“Why should I clean the bloody oven? Just because you’re all high and mighty Mr Snape now, doesn’t make my career unimportant. I work too! ”

Snape drew back sharply and screwed up his face in disgust. “Astride a broom for two hours a day? Oh yes, Potter, I can see how thoroughly gruelling that might be, compared to fourteen-hour days, constant International travel and endless symposiums. Forgive me while I weep in deference to your plight.”

“Whatever,” Harry said, in a voice he knew full well would annoy the hell out of his lover, “I’m going for a shower. I won’t expect you to be here when I’m finished.”

He took a step backwards, and with what he hoped was the mother of all sardonic smiles, turned on his heel. Snape seized his arm, and Harry hid his smirk as he was spun around and pulled close.

“Oh I’ll be here, Potter,” he whispered menacingly in Harry’s ear, “after all, who else is going to take care of this?”

His hand dropped between Harry’s legs and squeezed, and Harry was almost ashamed to hear a strangled moan escape. He flattened his palms against Snape’s chest as if to fend him off, but delayed exerting the necessary pressure.

“As you pointed out, Mr Perceptive, I can take of it myself,” he said, unable to look away from the black glare that only served to make his cock harder, “After all,” he mimicked, “why would you want to touch someone so obviously distasteful to you?”

“Insolent brat,” Snape growled, tightening his grip around Harry’s achingly firm prick, “this has nothing to do with cooking, domestic chores, or how appealing I believe you to be! But then again, you are only too aware of that, aren’t you, Potter? Did you think one of your ‘special dinners’ would soften me up and have me catering to your every whim?”

“Soften you up?” Harry’s nose made an involuntary whistling sound, “a blow torch couldn’t soften you up!”

The next thing Harry knew, his cock was unhanded and he landed on the sofa in a sprawl. Snape loomed over him, looking murderous, and Harry did the only thing he could do. He stripped.

“Gods, Severus, fuck me?” Harry begged, rocking onto his back and kicking off his jeans and underpants. His prick lay against his stomach, heavy and dark with blood, the head already straining through the foreskin.

Snape affected great disinterest in the proceedings. “No, Potter,” he said firmly, then a wicked glint lit up his eyes, “I do believe you... should fuck me.”

***

“Does it – does it feel okay?” Harry asked nervously.

Snape rolled his eyes. “It feels like a finger.”

“Well, it is a finger, what I meant was – oh God, my finger is inside you! Fuck, that’s so hot. I – uh – I meant – I’m not hurting you am I?”

“With one finger?” Snape said derisively.

“Oh, okay, good, that’s – er – good.” Harry gave the sheathed digit an experimental wiggle. He wasn’t sure if he’d make it to two fingers before shooting his load.

“Harry?”

Harry dragged his gaze away from the delicate skin, gently stretching around the intrusion. “Yeah?”

“I hate to discourage such diligence, but may we attempt this face to face? Your current positioning is somewhat clinical.”

Harry was crouched between Snape’s spread legs, studiously staring at his finger, or what little of it there was that remained visible. He supposed Snape had a point; it wasn’t exactly romantic.

Crawling up the pale body, he settled along Snape’s side, making sure his foray into the previously uncharted anal cavity remained undisturbed.

“Better,” Snape decreed, taking Harry’s face in his hands and pulling him into a kiss. Harry couldn’t concentrate on the slide of tongue against his, or the sooty eyelashes tickling his skin. He didn’t dare take any notice of his cock, all of a firm stroke away from imploding, or Snape’s prominent hardness; so strange to know he wouldn’t feel it inside him this time His attention was fully consumed by the sensation of warmth, of the gently ridged walls he could make out, and if he pushed just a little farther and crooked the tip of his –

“Aaaahhh!” Severus yelled.

Harry froze in terror. “Oh shit, I hurt you didn’t I? I’m sorry! I knew I’d cock this up!”

“What? No, of course not you blithering idiot, that was my prostate... Merlin, boy, do it again!”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and tried to repeat the action, gratified to feel Snape moving with him.

“It’s gone! I – I can’t find it!” he whined, after another few seconds of fruitless probing.

“Gone?” Snape sneered, “we may be wizards, Potter, but individual parts of our body are not capable of Disapparating!”

Harry huffed and extricated his finger. “I need more lube, you’re too damn tight!” he snapped irritably. This wasn’t panning out the way he’d imagined at all. In his mind, he had been suave and masterful, and Severus had moaned delightfully at his young lover’s skill. This farce of a sexual coupling– was a bloody nightmare.

“Come here,” Snape demanded, thwarting his progress towards the lube jar. Firm, comforting hands moved over Harry’s back and slid up into his hair. Harry relaxed and slumped against the bony chest.

“Why are you so anxious?” Snape murmured, brushing dark strands away from Harry’s forehead and placing a kiss over his scar.

“I just want this to be perfect,” he sighed, stroking the sparse cluster of wispy hairs surrounding a nipple.

“Then stop worrying and start enjoying yourself. You are not known for overanalysing situations, why begin now?”

“Because this is important! It’s your first time; both our first times, and I want it to be good for you.”

Snape made a sound suspiciously like a chuckle. Harry narrowed his eyes and glanced up. “What?”

“Potter, were I the sentimental type, I might declare that everything you and I do in bed together is, without exception, ‘good’. I might even let it slip that I have rarely found myself more contented; indeed the past seven months have been nothing short of idyllic. Conversely, I am neither romantic nor chivalrous, and therefore I shall simply suggest that you stop snivelling on my chest, cover yourself in lube and fuck me, before I change my mind.”

***

Harry knuckled the sweat out of one eye, and replaced his hand on the bed. Right. This was it then. Snape lay before him, knees drawn to his chest and secured in place by those long, elegant fingers, his shoulder length black hair fanned out across the pillowcase. Harry swallowed and looked down at his cock, leaking head resting against the stretched opening. He was going in there! He was going to push through that ring of muscle, any second now. Snape’s arse looked absolutely gorgeous, the cleft exposing his hole to Harry’s gaze, just waiting for him, him! to plunder it. Waiting for him...

“Merlin, what are you waiting for, a written invitation? Get on with it!”

Harry blinked out of his daze and bit his lip determinedly. He looked up at Snape and smiled, then pushed forward. Nothing happened. Not wanting to break their locked gaze, he tried again.

“Fuck,” he muttered, it won’t go in!”

“It will go in,” Snape growled, “when you pay attention and stop attempting to penetrate my perineum!”

Harry hurriedly adjusted his aim and took another deep breath. Oh God, he was feeding himself into Severus’ tight hole, could feel his prick pushing through, sliding in, the head of his cock disappearing. So hot, so hot -

“Wait,” Snape gasped, shifting beneath him, “just – allow me a moment.”

He didn’t want to wait, he wanted to keep going and going and going, but Snape’s expression stopped him. Merlin, Severus looked stunning like this, Harry thought, observing a shadow of discomfort on the sallow face. “Okay?”

Snape gave a curt nod. “More, Harry.”

Oh God, God! The word ‘more’ had never sounded so unbearably sexual! Harry licked a bead of sweat from his upper lip and sunk a little further.

“What now?” Snape snapped, when Harry was halfway and making no attempt to go deeper.

“Nothing, I was just – giving you time – uh – actually, me time – to adjust – fuck, you feel amazing,” Harry panted. And he did; Snape’s arse clenched around him was the tightest, warmest place Harry had ever had the pleasure of putting his cock.

“And you feel four inches shy of my prostate. Get on with it.”

Harry got the hint. Despite not being able to shrug off the worry that he might come at any second, his confidence grew, and he managed the rest of the way with barely a hitched breath. A thrill shot through him when he realised his balls were nestled against the snug cleft, and the thatch of pubic hair around the base of his cock was trapped between their bodies.

Snape’s eyes had closed, and Harry couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss each one in turn.

“How does it feel?” he whispered.

“Don’t you remember?” Snape retorted.

Harry chuckled quietly. “Well, it has been over a week – “

“Indeed. Perhaps you need reminding.”

“Not right now,” he smirked, “I’m a bit busy.”

Harry caught the thin lips in a kiss and began to move. Snape groaned quietly as he pulled out slowly and slid back in. Aware that Snape’s legs were still pressed awkwardly against his chest, Harry sat back and guided them over his shoulders, the way Snape had done to him many, many times. He ran clammy palms over the slim, pale hips and held them steady, each tentative thrust sending small tremors down Snape’s legs, through his thighs, hips and buttocks. The sight was unbelievably arousing. Harry clenched his teeth to ward off the orgasm threatening to overtake him. He wanted to touch Severus, wrap his hand around his cock and bring him off, but he was seriously worried about lacking the concentration to thrust and wank simultaneously.

“Can you – I want you to touch yourself,” Harry said, trying for an authoritative tone and achieving pathetic pleading instead.

Snape snorted, but Harry noted with satisfaction that his hand trailed down his torso and began to stroke his cock. Harry kept moving, drowning in the sensation of being inside his lover for the first time, seeing Severus writhe and grit his teeth, hearing the sharp exhalations that he, Harry, was provoking.

“Fuck, Gods, fuck” he groaned, unable to stop his hips from speeding up, “Severus – “

“Don’t you dare,” Snape hissed, recognizing the ecstatic look on Harry’s face.

Harry couldn’t help it; he gripped Snape’s legs and slammed back in as his orgasm was ripped from him, crying out at the insane power of it. He could feel his cock throbbing, each violent pulse carrying his seed into Snape’s body, flooding the virgin passage with ropes of thick, hot come.

His entire body shook as he collapsed on Snape’s chest, his heels slipping off Harry’s sweaty shoulders to hit the bed with a soft thud. Harry trembled under the gentle ruffling of his hair and felt blindly for Snape’s face, locating and stroking his cheek.

“Well,” Snape began.

“Shut up. I couldn’t help it, felt too good.”

“I shall take it as a compliment then.”

As his cock softened and slipped out, Harry wondered dejectedly if he’d ever get to do it again. He shifted his hips to the side, and was surprised to feel Snape’s prick, still rock hard, rubbing against his groin.

“You didn’t come!” he accused.

“You hardly gave me time!” Snape said defensively, although Harry could hear the amusement in his voice. “Besides, not everyone climaxes from penetration.”

“I do!”

“Precisely. Yet more evidence to support the theory that you are the natural bottom in this relationship.”

Harry gave Snape’s arse a playful slap. “Actually, I think we’re about even now, since you’ve proved to be such a fantastic little receiver,” he teased.

Snape growled and flipped Harry onto his back. “On who’s say so?” he demanded, biting the soft skin of Harry’s neck and rolling his hips to nudge Harry’s cleft with his erection.

“Mine,” Harry gasped, instantly excited at the provocative action, “I am the Saviour of the Wizarding World, after all...”

Snape made a ‘pah’ noise against his collarbone. “An honorary title at best, and one which, if I am not mistaken, you share with me.”

Harry squirmed and let his legs fall apart, running hands down each side of Snape’s lithe back to cup the bony white bum grinding against his groin enthusiastically.

“I can’t believe you’re ready to go again,” Harry sighed, feigning apathy.

“Perhaps if my adolescent lover had actually got me off in the first place,” Snape smirked, his smile widening at Harry’s look of outrage. “Never mind, Potter, practice makes perfect. An adage I am confident applies to you in everything bar Potions.”

Harry’s breath hitched as Snape stroked between his legs and parted his arse cheeks. “Does that mean you’ll let me have another go?”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “ A go, Potter?”

“I er, I meant – you wouldn’t be adverse to letting me top again, sometime? Sometime soon-ish?” he asked hopefully.

Snape seemed to consider the question as his finger found Harry’s entrance and brushed lightly across it. “If you are willing to apply the proper research to the subject, I see no reason why not.”

“Through practical work?” Harry smirked.

“Certainly not. I did not obtain a Mastery in Potions simply by throwing random ingredients into a cauldron. You will read up on the subject first.”

“Brilliant,” Harry groaned, as Snape’s finger finally breached him and slid inside. “By the way, is it – oh God – alright if – nngh – Hermione and – fuck yeah – Ron come to – sweet Merlin – dinner next week?”

***