43. The taste, the smell, the touch of you

 

If I could have just a moment of you
Would I be wanting more?
If I could have just a taste of you
Would I be addicted?
If I could have just a touch of you
Could I tear myself away*

 

Sometimes, when someone dreams, it seems to them that dreams are more real than reality. That there is nothing strange about it when, while escaping, they grow wings and fly into the air. That there is nothing terrifying about it when suddenly the ground under their feet disappears and they fall into a bottomless abyss. That there's nothing unusual about it when they feel cool fingers grip their hips and see a dark head moving between their thighs. No, something like this can only be extremely... pleasant.

Harry often had dreams like this. Especially the last one. That's why his consciousness was a bit surprised when he really felt the cool fingers wandering over his body and hot lips following them. He didn't think of it as something natural, as he always did with these types of dreams. No, it was so unreal that it felt...

...real.

Wait, dreams aren't supposed to become reality, are they? Especially not dreams like this.

No, he felt it more and more clearly. The touch of fingers caressing his shoulder and neck and warm kisses traveling along his spine, lower and lower...

He slowly opened his eyes, almost sure that once he did it everything would instantly disappear, but nothing happened. He still had that compelling feeling, even more so now. A fragment of the bedside table appeared in his field of vision. These fingers, gently wandering over the body, moved crosswise along the back and touched the buttocks clad in underpants. Harry blinked, trying to remember where he was and what was happening, but before he could do so, a hand lifted his leg, forcing him to bend it, and began stroking his inner thighs, slowly and gently running the nails over the heated flesh. The cold shiver that ran down Harry's entire body woke him up and brought back memories.

He was in Snape's bedroom. In his bed. And that hand, that body behind him, that hot mouth tasting the skin of his back belonged to--

He sighed deeply as the fingers brushed his penis trapped in the briefs, and it reacted to the touch with an almost painful trembling. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth as all the air suddenly flew out of his lungs as if with the touch of a wand. He heard Severus' heavy breathing behind him. He felt that wonderful hand move to his buttocks and slide his briefs down. He slowly began to turn his head and purr softly at the pleasant sensations. The material rubbed against his skin as inch by inch it revealed his rounded buttocks and the hollow that ran between them. The lips reached back to the nape of his neck and broke away from it so that Harry could turn his head completely. He lifted his eyes just as a long, wet finger slipped inside him.

His body twisted, but he didn't look away from the black eyes that were fixed on him, even though everything he saw was blurry. He raised his hand and touched the face bent over him, with dark, long locks falling over it and covering it in shadow. The sight caused a hot explosion of joy within him, and he couldn't stop the sleepy smile that spread across his lips.

"Good morning... Severus," he said quietly, feeling the man's finger move gently inside him.

In response, Snape leaned lower and pressed his lips to Harry's temple, whispering "Do not say anything..."

He leaned back and looked at Harry for a moment, as if trying to remember his sleep-ruffled hair, his sleepy, narrowed eyes, his pale, warm skin, and the sleepy smile on his lips. Harry stared back at him, taking in every part of the man's face as he watched him intently, and he didn't even mind that his vision was almost complete blurry.

Yes, everything was real. He didn't dreamed it. For the first time he woke up and Severus was lying next to him. For the first time after waking up, he could feel his closeness, he could see his face leaning over him, he could be happy that he was right next to him, that he hadn't left him at night, as he usually did. For the first time, Severus wanted to be by his side when he woke up, and the awareness of that made Harry's blood pump even faster than before.

He moved his hand down from the man's cheek to his thin lips, which parted at the touch, and his fingers took the invitation and dipped into the warm interior of Severus' mouth. The sight was so amazing that he had to hold his breath as he watched Snape's lips tighten around his index finger and his impossibly hot tongue slide along it and make slow, sticky circles around the tip. He had the impression that Snape's mouth could generate some kind of electricity waves that traveled from the finger along the entire body and hit a certain extremely sensitive point in his lower abdomen. And the force of these waves intensified even more when Harry felt Severus' deep growls vibrating around his finger, reaching his ears only when they broke through the buzzing of sensations in his mind.

However, all these sensations faded slightly when a second finger entered his body. A loud moan escaped Harry's lips, which he was unable to hold back, and which intensified when Severus began to move both of his fingers inside him, slowly at first, but with each moment that his muscles relaxed, faster and faster. Harry moved his hand and ran it through the black, soft locks, stopping it on Snape's neck, who at the same moment leaned down and attacked his chest with his mouth. Harry's eyes rolled back into his skull as he felt teeth nibbling at his nipple, then a wet tongue swirling between his nipples in an almost agonizing need, as if Severus had been holding back too long to taste him, as if he had been waiting for this moment all night long, and now he could at last sink his lips and teeth into his flesh and devour him. Whole.

Harry squirmed and moaned, unable to free himself from that greedy mouth, nor did he want to, but it was all too... too... he couldn't do it anymore... he just couldn't! Severus's mouth was all over him, devouring every bit of skin on his chest, biting into his shoulder and neck, trailing down his neck, leaving a wet, bite-marked trail behind it, and each brush of his hot, rapid breath on Harry's damp skin made him shiver with excitement which was spreading through the boy's veins, and it was so strong that he felt that just one more brush like that and he would explode.

He could hear and feel Severus' heavy, rapid breathing against his skin, even though his own moans drowned out almost everything else, and he almost shuddered with relief when the fingers withdrew and Snape pulled away slightly, as if reaching for something, although he didn't tore his lips away from Harry. It looked like Harry had one last chance to catch his breath before Severus... before he--

Oh yes! Oh that's it!

He almost screamed it out as he felt something hot and slippery sliding into him and Severus' fingers tightening on his hip, sinking into the soft flesh like claws. Yes, he loved it, he wanted it, he wanted Severus to go even deeper into him, even further, he wanted to feel all of him inside, as much of him as possible, as much of Severus as possible. Deep inside. As much of his taste, his smell, his touch as possible. Everywhere. Everywhere he could reach.

When the warm testicles touched his buttocks and the man's throbbing penis filled him completely, and the inside of Harry's body had already adjusted to his size, Severus began to move inside him with gentle, timed thrusts.

The lips that had previously kissed a path up the back of his neck disappeared, and the moment Harry lifted his heated eyelids, he saw Severus' face leaning over him, only a few centimeters away. The black gaze was immersed in his wide open green eyes and hungrily drank in every, even the smallest, explosion of pleasure rolling across Harry's face. And it seemed to almost glow with triumph as the cock hit that most sensitive spot inside him, and Harry opened his mouth and nearly died of pleasure, unable to make any sound other than a long, vibrating "oooooooooh." And Severus devoured with his eyes every wrinkle that appeared on his face, every spasm of pleasure, every moment when Harry's eyes became even bigger and even more shiny and did not break away from the pupils staring at him.

After filling his senses with the view, Severus leaned even closer and attacked Harry's face, which was drown in the agony of pleasure, his lips seemed to be even hotter than before, if that was even possible. And even greedier. As if something had interrupted his meal earlier and now he was taking it back with a vengeance. Harry let him taste every bit of his hot skin. Now that he didn't have his glasses, Severus had access everywhere and kissed his temples, forehead and eyelids. Even the nose. Over and over, endlessly, as if he hadn't had enough and wanted even more, even more of Harry's taste. He turned his head slightly and started kissing Harry's cheek, ear and the space surrounding them. As if he was trying to taste everything carefully and remember the taste.

Merlin, how many times had Harry imagined in his dreams Severus taking him like this. Mild. Patient. Designed solely to give him pleasure. How many times did he wish that a man would kiss him while he was doing it, look at him, just be inside him, not only with his penis, but also with his eyes, his breath... and his thoughts. He felt that he was starting to tremble, that something inside him was falling apart and something strange was starting to happen to him. It was coming, closer and closer with each thrust, filling his loins and chest, trapping his breath in his throat and constricting it, stinging his eyes.

Another thrust and another kiss on his hot cheek. The man's breath caressing the wet parts of his face where those thin lips rested, taking away all his senses. The gentle tickle of falling strands of hair, smelling so familiar.

Severus on him and in him. Absorbed, immersed, lost in Harry.

It was too much, he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't take it any longer?

A long, hoarse moan escaped his throat "Severuuuus..."

He was no longer able to control his body, and it twitched, flooded with a heat he had never experienced before. Every muscle tensed and his penis throbbed almost painfully, releasing streams of sperm that landed on the black sheets. He had the feeling that he was about to burn, that it was all too beautiful, that nothing could be this pleasant.

When the orgasm finally released him from its strong clutches and he fell back onto the bed, exhausted and shaking uncontrollably, he felt Severus' hand wrap around his cock and collect his still warm sperm. The thrusts sped up a bit, became more aggressive. Harry tried to open his eyes but he couldn't, he felt like he didn't have the strength to move even his little toe. The waves of orgasm ebbed away, but something inside him still trembled, kept falling apart and rising again, tightening the noose around his neck and making it harder for him to breathe.

It was all so... so...

He flinched slightly when he felt Snape's long fingers smearing warm semen on his back, but after a while the fingers were replaced by a hot tongue that moved slowly over the skin, carefully collecting every drop.

The shaking became more intense and Harry didn't know if he was shaking or if the whole world was shaking. Including Severus, who, purring deeply, licked everything from his back and sped up even more, digging his fingers into the soft flesh again and gritting his teeth on Harry's bare shoulder. He was moving faster and faster, harder and harder, until finally... he stilled, tensed and let out a long, strangled moan, his throbbing cock filling Harry with heat and sweetness. With the taste, the smell and the heat of Severus. With his essence.

He felt that his heart was speeding up instead of slowing down, and something in his chest was swelling, growing and pressing against his lungs, making him unable to breathe. The body behind him relaxed and fell back onto the sheets, a deep sigh enveloped Harry's shoulder and a wet, heated erection slid out of him, leaving him so... empty.

Harry burst into sudden, violent sobs. He had no idea what was happening to him, he couldn't stop it. He pressed his hand to his mouth and buried his face in the pillow, trying to muffle his desperate sobs, but he was unable to stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks and soaking into the black silk.

No, he can't expose himself like that... What is he doing? He has to stop. Immediately! What will Severus think of him? What if--

"Potter..." Severus' deep voice just above him made Harry almost panic, unable to stop sobbing or be able to respond. He had absolutely no control over what was happening to him.

No, Snape can't see him like that! He needs to calm down! Stop acting like some--

He wasn't able to finish that thought, however, because his mind gasped in surprise when he felt the gentle but firm touch of Snape's hand on his shoulder, trying to pull him away from the pillow and turn him towards the man. He resisted for a moment, not wanting Severus to see him like this, but after a while he gave up because he didn't have the strength to fight, he didn't have the strength to resist any longer. He surrendered to those strong arms that turned him around, and Severus slid a hand under his back, moved it to the back of his neck and stopped it in his hair, lifting his head and pressing it against his neck. Long fingers stroked his hair soothingly, moving between the damp strands. His whole body was shaking with the barely suppressed sobs that seemed to be tearing him into pieces from the inside.

"Shhh," Severus whispered, calmly and soothingly, as if he was speaking to a scared child. "Shhh..."

Harry, nestled in Severus' surprising warmth, wrapped in his scent like a cocoon, slowly calmed down. The sobbing turned into single sobs that continued to shake his body for some time, but became less and less frequent until they disappeared completely. The silence descended, filled with only two breaths, and swirling thoughts.

Harry sighed deeply, trying to sort through all the sensations and understand what had happened to him. He felt so embarrassed by his sudden outburst that he couldn't imagine looking Snape in the face now. His heart was still racing and the tremors that were vibrating throughout his body slowly faded away as the man released him from his embrace and let his head fall back onto the pillow.

Harry had no choice. He slowly opened his eyes, expecting to see almost everything on the man's face, from a sneer to a disgusted grimace, but he certainly didn't expect to see... concern. Severus' face was hidden by the shadow of his ebony hair, but Harry could see his wide eyes and the deep crease between his eyebrows.

Oh, he felt so stupid. What could he say? How to explain himself?

"I..." he started hesitantly, not really knowing what he wanted to say. "It was just-- I didn't know-- I didn't want to. I just--"

"I know," Severus whispered.

That one quiet word made Harry fall silent, and his heart filled with gratitude so deep that he almost shuddered with relief. Severus understood. He wasn't going to make fun of him. No. Severus looked at him like that and Harry felt like he had never really seen a look like that before. It seemed to wrap around him and rock him, and dive deep, very deep inside him? and he really didn't need any words to feel the strength that emanated from it. Strength and something else...

Comfort.

He smiled.

He didn't need anything else.

***

 

Severus Snape had shaved many times in his thirty-seven years of life. Almost every day. He liked to do it slowly, carefully planning each movement of his wrist. It was a kind of ritual that no one and nothing could interrupt. And he never, ever cut himself.

Today he also tried to perform this ritual. The only problem was that his eyes kept involuntarily wandering towards Potter taking a shower in the translucent cabin. The bathroom was large and spacious, and from his place at the sink he could see the stall reflected in the mirror and the naked figure standing there. The sounds of flowing water and irregular splashing reached his ears.

After a few moments, he looked back at his reflection in the mirror. Raw and repulsive as always. His furrowed brows and twisted mouth made him look like a wild animal that could bite off your leg at any moment. Now part of his chin and his right cheek were covered in cream. He frowned even more and resumed the ritual, placing the blade against his cheek and slowly, delicately moving it down.

Then the sound of running water stopped and the cabin door slid open. It seemed that at that moment Severus stared even harder at his reflection and at the blade sliding across his skin, as if nothing else interested him. Eventually, however, he let out a quiet hiss, as if he had finally given up, and his eyes landed on Potter's figure standing in front of the cabin. The boy finished drying his hair with the green Slytherin towel, his naked body glistening with water drops still dripping down his soft, fair skin, still as smooth and fresh as if no one had ever touched it before. His limp penis and two round balls swayed slightly between his thighs as he rubbed his hair vigorously. When he was done, he hung the towel over his shoulders and tossed his hair back. The wet strands looked much darker than usual. They stuck together and stuck to the pale forehead, creating an amazing contrast. But everything, absolutely everything, seemed faded and bland compared to those big, green, shining eyes. Now, without glasses, surrounded by the black hair and the pale skin, they glowed as if someone had suddenly removed the darkening windows. And combined with the soft, dreamy smile that had never left his face since he got up, they seemed so... lush and alive.

And then it happened. Severus Snape cut himself.

"Damn!" he cursed under his breath, watching angrily as a red stain appeared on his chin.

"Severus?" Potter's voice was concerned. He stepped closer, treading the tiles with his bare feet. "Something happened?"

Severus rinsed the blade and looked at the drop of blood running down his chin.

"Nothing," he muttered under his breath, although he looked more like someone who was close to murdering someone. Preferably yourself.

Potter stood right next to him and the intense scent of vanilla and chocolate filled the man's nostrils. He should have winced in disgust at the intoxicatingly sweet mixture, but involuntarily he turned his head to it, closed his eyes, and inhaled the scent deep into his lungs. The smell of Potter. Always the same, disgustingly delicious smell, floating around the boy like an extra layer of clothing. Even stronger than his magical aura. He could smell it whenever Potter was near him, it wafted into his face when he leaned over his cauldron during class, sometimes he could even tell that Potter must have passed through the corridor he was walking down because of the wisps of it lingering in the air. delicate and diffused, but still noticeable.

A bitter pleasure appeared on his stern face, as if he couldn't decide what to feel. Or rather, what he would rather feel. When he lifted his eyes, he met Potter's surprised gaze, staring at him with those damn green eyes.

He straightened up, moved away from the boy's wet hair and cleared his throat, looking at himself in the mirror again. This time he looked like someone who really needed something stronger. And he needed it as fast as possible.

 

*

 

Well, that was a bit strange... Severus had been staring at him ever since Harry got out of the shower. Well, it's not like he never looked at him, but he never looked that intense... Without his glasses, Harry couldn't read that look, but he felt how it almost touched him, how it tickled him with the tongues of fire burning inside him. It was nice, it was bloody nice, but at the same time a little embarrassing.

It wasn't even that look that disturbed him so much, it was the view he saw. Severus was standing at the sink and... shaving. The view was so surreal that Harry realized he was probably bulging his eyes to see better, but he couldn't help it. He knew it was stupid, that Severus was human and had to perform certain activities reserved for ordinary people, but his imagination couldn't process it. Well, despite everything, it still looked... incredibly sexy.

"Damn!" the man suddenly cursed, tearing the blade from his face.

"Severus?" Harry asked anxiously, coming closer. His eyesight was too bad to see what had happened. "Something happened?"

"Nothing," Snape muttered in response, but he seemed a little nervous. Maybe he was angry that Harry wouldn't let him shave in peace? Maybe he should just get out and leave him here alone? Maybe he didn't like doing his morning toilet in someone else's presence? But it was Snape who actually came here after Harry. Harry entered the bathroom first and was surprised when, once inside the shower, he heard the door opening and he saw Severus' silhouette approaching the sink. So apparently his presence didn't bother him.

He stopped right next to the man and looked at his face. He thought he noticed a red drop on Snape's chin and immediately understood the reason for his bad mood. However, before he could make any gesture, Severus suddenly closed his eyes and leaned towards him, inhaling deeply into his nostrils, as if, as if... smelling him. Harry looked up at the face bent over him, at the calm, almost pleasured expression, and at that big nose that looked as if it wanted to bury itself in his hair, and he felt something tighten in his stomach. After a moment, though, his eyelids fluttered open and Severus quickly pulled away, looking back at his reflection in the mirror. Harry heard the man clearing his throat quietly, but he wasn't entirely sure. Nevertheless, the situation seemed... unusual.

He took a deep breath and looked at his reflection. The vision before his eyes was blurry and he couldn't see much except for his large green eyes, shining between the black bangs stuck to his forehead and the green towel slung over his shoulders. He didn't feel embarrassed about being naked. Not any more. Severus had seen his body so many times that being naked in his presence seemed natural to him now. He reached for the shelf where he had left his toothbrush earlier, but unfortunately, due to his poor eyesight, he only managed to do it the second time, because on the first unsuccessful attempt he knocked the shaving brush and the spare blade into the sink. Feeling the man's irritated gaze on him, he muttered an apology, then took Severus' herbal paste and began brushing his teeth without hesitation. Severus looked at him in surprise for a moment before returning to shaving.

As if Harry brushing his teeth right next to him was something... ordinary. As if the fact that a man who could make anyone weak in the knees with just a glance was now standing next to him and simply shaving was something... normal. As if the fact that they were here together, in Snape's bathroom, doing all these things next to each other, was something... obvious.

Harry spat out the toothpaste and laughed. When he felt Severus' surprised gaze on him, he started giggling even louder.

"Could you tell me what made you laugh so much, Potter?" Snape finally asked when Harry didn't stop. The boy pointed at both of them, trying to somehow show what he couldn't put into words.

"You... I... it's... so different." He shook his head and leaned his hands against the sink, trying to calm down. He rinsed his mouth and took a deep breath. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror and noticed that Severus, who had apparently finished shaving in the meantime, was looking at him with that strange look again. Now that he could see the reflections of both of them in the mirror, he was able to notice the huge difference in height. He had always been short, but next to Severus he seemed even shorter, and therefore younger. He barely reached the man's shoulder. His skin was fair but slightly tanned. You could say peachy, while Snape's skin looked too pale and a bit unhealthy, as if it had never been exposed to sunlight or had been saturated with potion fumes for too long. It was one of a kind, though. No one else had skin like his. And no one else but Harry could touch it.

Severus was now wearing the same black trousers and open shirt as the last time, and although everything Harry was looking at was blurry and indistinct, he could see a dark strip of hair stretching from the man's navel down, disappearing beneath the fabric of his loose pants. He swallowed and forced himself to look away from this intimately masculine part of Severus' body. He looked at his own, perfectly smooth chest and felt a pang of shame. He didn't shave, he had no facial hair except for a small tuft of hair surrounding his penis, and he was still so annoyingly boyish, while Severus was... well, he was a man. A man who was standing right next to him and smelled with such intoxicatingly musky and spicy aftershave that Harry would follow him on his knees just for the scent alone.

Without thinking, Harry stood behind the man and wrapped his arms tightly around him, pressing his face to his black-clad back. He closed his eyes and just enjoyed the cool material under his fingers and the fine, prickly hairs as he moved his hands down the man's stomach.

"I'll miss you," he said quietly. He had to do it, he had to say it, he just had to. The thought that this was the end of their time together, that they would only be able to see each other in the evenings during detentions, that he would never be able to stay here at night again, made him depressed. "This Christmas, all this time, everything we did... it was so wonderful and... thank you for every moment."

"Potter..." Snape began and paused for a moment, as if considering what he should answer. "We're not breaking up for good... I mean, we'll still see each other. And if you're going to behave, I might even consider letting you visit more often."

"Behave?" Harry asked, sensing the trick.

"I suggest you look up the dictionary if you don't know what that means, but just so you know: you won't act like a mouthy, irritating Gryffindor who--"

"--I usually am?" Harry finished, smiling at the man's back.

"That's right. Nice that you finally understood your--"

"--advantages?" Harry tried again and held his breath.

"Well well, how witty you are, aren't you?" Severus muttered.

"See how many things I've learned from you?" He grinned. Was it his imagination, or did Snape's shoulders tremble for a brief moment? He sighed and snuggled even tighter into the black fabric smelled of Severus. He stopped his hands on the man's stomach and played with the prickly hairs, brushing them with his fingertips. He would do anything to stop this moment so that another moment would never come. And he suspected, when he felt a larger, cooler hand covering his own, that Severus felt the same way.

 

***

 

A dark, tall figure with a white mask in his hand approached the bookcase and pulled one of the books on the shelf. The silence of the dim living room was broken by a click and a quiet growl as the wall moved aside. Severus entered his laboratory and, without hesitation, headed towards the Pensieve in the corner. Golden ribbons of memories swirled inside it. Thick and heavy, as if too much of them had been crammed into it.

The man pulled out his wand and placed it to his temple. After a moment, a golden glow began to flow down the black wood, wrapping itself around it, as if leaving the safety of the mind was too terrifying and it had to hold on to something to keep from falling apart and melting away. Severus pointed his wand down, resting it on the edge of the bowl, and watched with an unreadable expression as the memories slid off the wand and into the deep sea of others. For a few moments, the images on his wand trembled: Severus licking the cum from his fingers, greedily clutching the small figure to him, pulling it closer in the bed, even as sobs shook the small body. Images shook and disappeared beneath the surface of others, eerily similar, fragments of which sometimes broke through to the very surface: Severus placing Potter's Christmas present on the table, loosing himself in the kisses placed on the smooth body, hugging the shivering boy at the bathroom door... .

He looked away from the bowl and turned towards the exit, something dangerous burning in his eyes. He left the laboratory and took a bottle with the label Polyjuice Potion stuck to it from one of the shelves in his office. He tucked it into his robe along with the mask and left the office with decisive steps. His long footsteps echoed in the dark corridors of the dungeons for some time.

 

If I could have just a breath of you
Would you, could you infect me?
If I could have just a view of you
Would you leave your door ajar?
If I could have just a part of you
Let me drink of your tides

I would pray to be the rain that runs over and in your skin
With no consequence
To be the liquid in your glass that falls around your lips and mouth
Swallow me

And after would the silence thicken, stiffen?
Would I run home in the dark with something stolen?
Would you be slinking in my conscience, laughing?
Would this hunger ever cease?*

 

* "Taste" by Lorna Vallings