In Darkness Together

From the beginning of his school career Harry remembered being fascinated with the dungeons. He was well aware that he should never go without good reason, and yet he never did find himself inclined to obey that rule any more than any other, besides punishment was nothing to be scared of and breaking rules nothing unfamiliar. Harry gasped in pain, pulled roughly from his musings as Severus pushed him roughly into the classroom wall, his swollen bottom lip finally giving in to the abuse the previous kisses provided and splitting as he gasped. He felt the warmth of skin through the layers of clothing separating them and itched to lick it, to saver the unique natural taste that clung to his lover’s skin. The older man’s forearm was sure to leave a mark across his back, but it didn’t matter, he adored the marks their encounters left on him. They helped him to remember. He worshiped the bruises, piously licked at the cuts, and reveled in the occasional scar left on his pallid skin, despite how difficult they proved to hide from his friends. He struggled against the taller man, attempting to push away from the wall only to have Severus push him more roughly against it. His face struck the wall this time leaving a straight gash across his cheek bone, an almost secretive smile played at the edges of his lips. The cold grey stone un-giving as he was molded against it and the body behind him pushed itself into his own.

He felt the blood that wasn’t below flow to his face as his cheeks heated at the familiar all consuming burn and with it the reckless overwhelming feelings he felt for this man. The flaming sensation to be as close as possible to this man, this man who he could never say he loved, the one he would die for, kill for, steal for, go to prison for, wait for, anything just to be close to him, and at times to be part of, the man his skin burned for. The only one who always saw him, who was constantly watching him. The man who was biting at his neck in a way that not only bruised but broke the skin. Harry cried out in shocked-pain, pushing himself against the wall trying to get away from the teeth practically gnawing at him. It was interesting, Harry noted on a detached level, the man always bit in the same place, at the bend just before his shoulder began. He wouldn’t be surprised to find the constant bites leave a permanent mark, but they were never left long enough to heal.

He calmed as he felt the tip of Severus’ finger, slightly potion stained began caressing the back of his neck, the man whispered as he did so, leaving behind long shallow incisions in the wake of his finger. The nicks hardly bleed at all, the older man used the spell to control how much was lost, and Harry knew there would be many more opportunities to bleed tonight. His skin, seeming to tingle in anticipation as agile hands skimmed over his body, the occasional cut following, the long, thin and deceptively tenuous fingers that have stroked each and every inch of him, the hands that knew his skin better than he did. Harry stilled in his half-hearted movements to get away to relish the familiar feeling of the warmth of his own blood running down his back, from both the cuts and the bite. The small cuts where beginning to burn as air was blown across them. He grimaced as his wounds throbbed, a slight copper taste in the air he slowly breathed in to help abate the pain.

He turned to face the taller man; his green glassy eyes alighted with the internal fire, begging for the violation he knew he would receive the invasion he craved. He looked up into the face he saw everywhere he went, the angular contours, the pale, sallow skin that was as delightful to his tongue as sweet cream, the severe brow, the black hair that he knew was smooth as silk, the prominent -broken- Romanesque nose, the thin yet supple lips that where now moving. He pushed Severus, but both their close proximity and the fact that the older man was expecting it hindered his efforts. He blindly slapped at the man as he was grabbed by the waist and slammed back into the wall. He stilled his purely habitual efforts of defiance and listened as the heady, sinuous voice that haunted him hissed into his ear an order to get undressed.

With a quick glance at the black molten eyes he adored he did as commanded, dropping each piece of clothing carelessly before falling to his knees, the moves so practiced he seemed to move with the fluidity of liquid. He sat crouched on the heels of his feet, hands rested in his lap, though not hiding himself, his eyes turned to his hands as the older man undressed. Severus never liked to be watched, Harry knew it was because the older man was ashamed of his body, the scars that littered it as well as the shame that was placed their by others.

Though that didn’t stop him from taking in as much as he could at every chance he got, though never at the risk of displeasing Severus. Nor did it stay the almost overwhelming urge he had to look up now, or at the very least peak. However, he was easily comforted; the older man always took his shoes off first, much to his delight. He relished this opportunity to stare at the man’s bare feet as he waited, the long thin toes, and skin so pale the veins where stark against them and unhidden. He voyeuristically took in each minute detail of what was slowly revealed to him. As stiff black formal trousers where removed, Harry was gifted with the sight of the curves of muscular and lightly fuzzed calves, tantalizing him with the promise of more, should he only look up.

To avoid temptation, he turned and fell to his hands and knees, presenting himself with anticipation strumming threw his veins. He grew warmer as Severus’ body moved behind his own. He held back a mewl as the nails ghosted over his back and ass, leaving goose bumps in their wake. The caresses, softer than a butterfly’s wings, where replaced by scratches as the nails dug into the skin on each downward stroke. He heard the whispered ‘Cultellusfinge’, and felt his heart quicken, he knew without having to look that the prized pure silver dagger from
Severus’ room was now in the older man’s hand. He hissed as the tip of the dagger was dragged across his skin teasingly. He keened as Severus applied the slightest pressure leaving a paper cut thin slice in his skin. Severus licked his finger and traced the wound with it, a small smile playing at his lips at Harry’s quick intake of breath. He traced superficial cuts all over the boy’s back, making sure never to go very deep. He sat back on his heels to admire his work, of the many cuts littered across the boy’s back. He reached out and dragged his hand from one corner to the other smearing the blood; he did the same with his other hand. Severus took the time to admire the wonderful contrast of the blood on the skin below him. He absentmindedly drew a figure eight with his index finger.

Turning Harry onto his back Severus allowed him to squirm to find some semblance of comfort on the hard ground. His eyes grew more intense with each slight hiss that made its way past the youth’s lips and each hiss a companion for each sting the dirty floor digging into his back inflicted on the smaller man. Severus sliced between two of his ribs, this wound much deeper than the rest. He made an identical mark on the other side of the boy’s ribcage. He took the tip of the blade and pricked a spot right on his collar bone, applying pressure until the blood welled and began to drip down onto the floor. Harry’s gasps where music to his ears and the tears welling in the boy’s still ostensibly innocent green eyes more beautiful than anything he had seen or would ever see again. His beautiful whore the fierce eyes that reflected pain as he arched into his movements, his beloved liar. Severus sliced an ‘S’ over its fading predecessor on the soft skin just next to Harry’s hipbone then did the same to the twin piece of flesh on the opposite side. He enjoyed marking his property, though he knew no one would ever see it he couldn’t help but fill with pride and contentment to know his lover bared each of his marks. The older man waited until his lover’s pained whimpers subsided, offering him a short reprieve before he lowered himself between his lover’s legs. Kissing one inner thigh, as he sliced the other. He licked at the cuts he left on each thigh languidly, savoring the copper smell and taste that flooded his senses. Resting, Severus had stopped just before he knew the boy would begin to get lightheaded and tossed the dagger onto his cloak.

The older man licked up the shaft of his lover slowly, enjoying the gasps he evoked. He lethargically licked at the weeping head. He slipped the head into his mouth sucking on it harshly, and received a shocked scream. He took a deep breath through his nose, smelling the heady musk that was his lover’s own and the tinge of copper that wound around it. He slowly lowered his lips as far as he could without gagging and sucked hard as he moved his head at an agonizingly slow pace as he rubbed the base of Harry’s cock with his hand. Harry let out a litany of moans as Severus worked vigorously moving up and down and taking his Harry as far down his throat as he could, slowing each time he felt the younger man nearing the edge. Severus pulled away completely. Harry sobbed, he could feel each and every wound as it throbbed and burned in pain, and his cock on the verge of pain.

Severus urged Harry back onto his hands and knees with light almost absentminded- smacks to his limbs. Harry hissed at the probing finger of the opposite hand was inserted into his body with no preamble, the lubricant colder than the floor he was on. He felt the blood rushing through his aching heart, as he was filled, his hands and knees aching as the cold stones of the floor scratched at them. Severus took his time preparing the smaller man as he lavished the back of his neck with harsh bites and scratched at the level chest below him leaving red trails showing where he’s been. Enjoying each hiss of slight discomfort and mounting anticipation as each new finger was added. Finally, when he knew he wouldn’t tear his young pet, he positioned himself at Harry’s entrance, using his cock to tease at it; waiting for the begs he knew he would receive.

He slid in excruciatingly slow, reveling in the whimpers of impatience he received. He held stock still rolling his hips, coming tantalizingly close to Harry’s prostate with each motion, until he heard the wonderful sound of Harry piously whispering, “Please”. He gripped the firm ass in front of him hard, finger shaped bruises already forming, his nails leaving half moon impressions. He lifted the hips so that the green eyed boy had to arch his back and put his weight on his forearms, he separated the cheeks so that he could watch more clearly as he plunged ruthlessly in and out. Severus relished Harry’s screams as he hit his prostate. Severus admired the bloody hand and fingerprints he was creating all over the boy’s body. There would never be another person whose hands would hold the younger man below him this way, he had tainted him, stained him, addicted him, possessed him, he had know from the beginning and he relished in that. There would never be another who could match his touch, nor stave Harry’s hunger for it, no one who could own him this way.

Tears ran down Harry’s face as his palms and knees where scrapped raw against the floor. Severus stopped and pulled away and said in a swift tone, “Turn over.” Harry lay on his back automatically putting his hands at the bend of his knees and pulling them as high as he could, his legs spread wantonly. Positioning himself again, Severus moved his hips forward, this time with no delay. He took in Harry’s contorted face with something akin to glee, the eye’s clenched closed, the mouth open in a silent moan, the cheek's stained a harlots red. He moved his hand around Harry’s cock, attempting to move in time with his own movements. Harry mewled, orgasm just outside of his reach as he heard Severus’ throaty moans. “Please,” Harry said begging again looking pleadingly at the older man. Severus’ nails of his free hand dug into his lover more deeply with each thrust. He stroked twice before he felt
Harry constricting around him, his gasps and sobs punctuating his sobs, as Severus’ allowed himself release. He gripped Harry’s ass with both hands pounding relentlessly as he came, biting his lip so hard he tasted blood as he attempted to keep his own scream in, his nails digging into his lover so hard tears of blood where sliding down
Harry’s hip.

Harry grunted as the older man collapsed against his bonelessly, he hissed as Severus pressed against him, putting his legs out and hissing slightly as the older man slid out of him. He rolled from under the man before silently curling himself around him. Severus whispered the spell to clot Harry’s wounds, until a salve could be applied. They lay huddled together against the cold of the dungeons breathing in musky, coppery, air as they caught there breath. Severus watching as Harry licked at his bottom lip.

They dressed without word. Harry Potter in his uniform, the untouchable Boy Who Lived once again. Professor Snape in his robes imposing, alouf, and cold once again; each walking separate ways, their secret to be contained in the tomblike walls.