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Harry had never liked lying to his parents.
It wasn’t really something he did if he could help it. Mostly because he rarely had a reason to. After all, as far as parents went, James and Lily Potter had always been fair but firm. Lovingly indulgent, but also clear and steady in their expectations of him.
Not once had they ever made Harry feel as if he had to lie to them—to hide from them—the things that were important to him. The people who were important to him, even if they didn’t always necessarily approve of his choices. They’d never stopped him; never once pressed him to do what they wanted, instead of what he wanted, and stood unwaveringly by his side because they’d always believed in him.
Always trusted in him—to make the right choice, the best choice; the one they’d be most proud of in the end. Which was why, when it came down to it, Harry could never tell them about this. Would never tell them about this.
Not if he wanted it to continue.
Fingers clutching at the other man’s robes, Harry panted wetly into the space between their mouths, something desperate and hungry lighting up his veins as he was slowly backed into the wall just inside the entryway of his childhood home. Merlin, he’d been wanting this—needing this. Dreaming about it, even; his pyjama bottoms sodden with his own want the last few mornings with how much he’d ached for it.
“Y-you,” he gasped as soon as his back hit the wall, cock aching in his pants. A nearby picture frame—a muggle painting his mum had found in a charity shop on one of her trips to London—bounced lightly against the wall, the sticking charm on it having apparently faded. “Weren’t supposed to be here until the weekend.”
“Was I?” Dry, thin lips dragged the words over his mouth, the heated press of them drawing a shiver down his spine even as warm palms cradled his hips. They felt huge there, hot and proprietary in a way that made his stomach tighten and his skin burn.
“Yes,” Harry breathed, back arching slightly as he tried to bridge the gap between their bodies. Those hands stopped him, though, keeping him in place as a bitten-off whine caught in his throat. “You said you had too much brewing to do.”
“I did.” A nose, sharply angled and slightly crooked, brushed teasingly against his own. “I do.”
Eyelids fluttering behind his glasses, Harry swallowed. “Then why are you—?”
“Did you think,” those lips again, ghosting words over his own. “That when I learned from your mother that she and your imbecile of a father were leaving early, that I would not take advantage?”
Harry’s breath hitched. “You–”
“That I would not come here,” another teasing brush of noses, of lips, of hot breath that curled against the tender flesh of Harry’s mouth. “At once?”
Shuddering, Harry moaned, fingers clutching tighter at the man’s robes. “Severus.”
“Harry,” Severus Snape purred back, low voice melting over Harry’s skin like warm chocolate. “Did you believe I would not come and have you under me again? Where you belong?”
Moaning, Harry surged forward for another one of the kisses he’d been craving since the moment he’d opened the front door and found Severus waiting for him, his dark eyes already gleaming with the same predatory hunger they always had whenever he clapped eyes on Harry these days.
That it had taken Harry months to realize this, to understand the full depth and scope of the man’s feelings for him, while already struggling with the burden of his own growing affections, made something inside Harry throb.
A hunger, a heat, a longing to be wanted like this—possessively, wantonly, dangerously—by a wizard who was one of his mother’s oldest friends, one with whom she’d only reconciled with after Harry had started school and they’d stumbled into him while out buying his school supplies. The large, gilt cauldron the man had been carrying as though it weighed nothing, drawing a young Harry’s wide and fascinated eyes the way the man himself did now, was like a burst of fiendfyre in his core. Untamable and all-consuming, now that he knew it was not simply a one-sided and doomed infatuation.
“Severus,” Harry panted again, lips and tongue lingering against the man’s own as his fingers shakily pulled themselves’ from his robes only to tangle in his hair. It felt silky beneath his broom-callused fingers; the potion the man used to keep the worst of the fumes from damaging it during his brewing keeping his long locks indescribably soft once it had been washed away. “Please.”
“I have you,” Severus murmured, large hands sliding from Harry’s hips down to his thighs and hefting him easily upward as though he weighed nothing.
Moaning louder, Harry allowed himself to be lifted, thighs spreading so Severus could crowd him further against the wall, their hard cocks rubbing against each other through their robes as his legs wrapped around the man’s waist. Merlin, Harry loved how strong Severus was. Loved that so many looked at his lanky, lean frame and saw only weakness, when Harry really knew the truth.
Fingers tugging at Severus’s hair, Harry pulled him into another kiss, lips parting as Severus licked hungrily into his mouth. He loved this, too. Kissing Severus—snogging, as Ron would have called it—though Harry could never think of it like that.
It felt too juvenile, too simple, for what it was.
For what it felt like to him.
Because Severus didn’t do anything as simple as kiss him—he devoured him. His lips, tongue, and teeth all working to bite, suck, and lick every inch of him. Body leaning in, crowding forward, so the only thing Harry could think about, could feel, could smell, was Severus and Severus alone.
It was a dangerous thing.
This attraction between them.
This devotion.
It filled up every part of him, wormed its way deep inside him, and flowed like the very magic in his veins. Powerful, perpetual, and only growing in its profundity with every passing day. Every passing hour.
“Harry,” Severus rasped when they finally parted for breath, chest heaving against his own as their hips rocked unconsciously against each other. Harry could already feel how wet he was, slit drooling a steady stream of pre-come into his pants even as his hole fluttered and ached to be filled. “How do you–”
“I want you,” Harry cut in hoarsely, fingers momentarily tightening in Severus’s hair before releasing, one hand cupping the side of the man’s pale, angular face. It was flushed, splotchy with arousal and that dark devotion that Harry knew likely bordered on something frightening and unhealthy. “Inside me. I-I touched myself this morning just thinking about it.”
And he had—his fingers slick with the potion Severus had created specifically for him, legs spread wide on his mattress and back arching as he imagined Severus’s cock sinking into him. He’d whined at how good it felt, mouth wet and open as his cock jerked on his stomach, a puddle of pre-come growing on his skin. It hadn’t taken long to come, not with the memory of their last time together so clear in his mind, but he hadn’t stopped fingering himself.
Hadn’t stopped toying with himself; fingertips brushing, pulling, dipping in his hole until he felt over-sensitized and hungry. His cock once again hardening until he’d jerked himself off roughly, wishing he had the time before his parents left for their trip to dig out the toy he liked to use on himself. The one that Severus had found and enchanted to work into him just the way he liked it, just the way Severus always did, so that even when they were apart, Harry could get fucked by him.
Or, at least, by his magic.
“Please, Severus,” Harry continued pleadingly, hips rolling as best they could in Severus’s tight grip. His cock throbbed between them, aching and leaking so much he was sure there was a damp spot on the front of his trousers now. “I need it—need you. I’ve missed you so much.”
Swearing softly, Severus heaved forward, mouth once more devouring Harry’s own as he crushed Harry against the wall, keeping him in place with his weight as his hand jerkily summoned his ebony wand into his grasp.
Harry groaned happily into the kiss, glasses going askew on his face as his thighs tightened around Severus’s waist. He could feel just how hard the man was pressing against him. Could feel his thick cock straining against the front of his robes.
“Foolish boy,” Severus rumbled roughly when they parted, warm breath curling over Harry’s skin. Shuddering, Harry’s eyelids fluttered, tongue darting out to lick along his kiss-swollen lips. “Do you want me to fuck you right here in the entryway?”
“Yes,” Harry pleaded helplessly, cock jumping at the thought. “Right here, Severus. Right where anyone could find us.”
Growling, Severus’s wand cut a sharp swishing arc through the air, banishing all their clothing without a single word.
Crying out at the sudden shock of feeling nothing but bare skin between them, Harry barely heard the soft clatter of Severus dropping his wand carelessly onto the floor before he was there again, swallowing Harry’s cries as Harry clutched at his hair, his face, the wide spread of his shoulders.
“Potters,” Severus muttered into his mouth, cock rutting against his. It felt so good, so heavy, against him. His mouth watered at the thought of getting on his knees after this and choking himself on it. “Always desperate to court trouble.”
“Yes,” Harry exhaled, legs flexing as he tried to pull him impossibly closer. “Please, Severus.”
Eyes momentarily closing as if he were in pain, Severus kissed him once more, gentler this time but no less thorough, before his dark eyes opened once again and met Harry’s own. Harry shivered at the look in them, adam’s apple bobbing around a hard swallow. Severus looked dangerous like this.
Predatory and ravenous, like some great beast just seconds away from pouncing on its prey and devouring it whole.
Harry shivered again.
“My foolish boy,” Severus rumbled, cock dragging along Harry’s so perfectly that he couldn’t help but whimper, slit drooling out another spurt of pre-come. It smeared between them, sticky and slick on their skin. “Always so needy for me.”
“Always,” Harry moaned in agreement, glasses going even more skewed as he pressed their foreheads together, panting wetly between their open mouths. “It’s been days; I don’t want to wait any longer.”
Groaning, Severus dragged their mouths together, hips thrusting once, twice, cocks bumping and sliding together before pulling away and muttering a low, familiar spell. Instantly, Harry could feel the way his weight shifted; the vague strain in his thighs lessening as Severus’s magic washed over him. Huffing a breathless sort of half-laugh, Harry smiled.
“Am I one of your cauldrons now?”
Hefting him slightly higher against the wall, Severus made a low noise somewhere in his throat as his grip slid and shifted until his long, clever fingers brushed gently against Harry’s twitching hole. It was still slick from earlier, soft and loose and ready for something bigger than fingers. “Would you rather I put you on your knees, then?”
Moaning, both at the touch and the mental image, Harry curled his arms around Severus’s shoulders, bowing as he curled towards the touch. “Maybe later,” he panted, squirming. “After.”
“After,” Severus agreed lowly, voice like a promise as his fingertips petted over him and sank into him with a light pressure that made Harry’s thighs shake. “For now, however…”
Breath catching in anticipation, Harry shuddered as Severus’s fingers withdrew, their bodies shifting against each other until the blunt head of the other wizard’s cock pressed against his opening.
“Please,” Harry begged again when Severus paused.
He always did when they were desperate for each other like this. Whether to claw back a modicum of control or to hear Harry beg some more, Harry didn’t know nor care. He just wanted Severus inside him. Just wanted to feel him again, spreading him open.
It was addicting, that feeling.
The sensation of being so close.
That it had been days since the last time he’d felt it—far too fleetingly, during a rushed and sloppy rendezvous that had left Harry with sucked, reddening marks on his skin and a distinct, tender longing in his chest—was something he’d clung to in the days leading up to his parents departure. The trip they’d planned, a zigzagging path across Europe for their anniversary, an unintended deadline for when he could see Severus again. Be with Severus again, without fear of being caught.
Their relationship—a slow and smoldering thing that grew in fits and starts in the spaces between his mother’s careful friendship and the craggy neutrality his father tried to maintain over the years—was something neither of them had expected but clutched at with greedy, fervent fingers. Ones that only grew more eager as time passed and they both realized just how suited for one another they were. The hollow, overwhelming fame from being who he was in the family he was in, rubbing along with the isolation and separation that came from the lingering suspicion and doubt that was often thrown at Severus’s feet despite the war being over.
Finding each other, even if it was through blind, stumbling steps that could lead to heartache and trouble if they weren’t careful, meant everything to Harry. So having Severus here now, pressed hot and tight against him, his breath a moist heat on Harry’s skin and his cock nudging teasingly against his opening, was everything he could have wanted. Everything he could have needed, right here in this moment.
“Severus,” Harry breathed, voice a soft rasp against the man’s sallow skin. “I want it. Please give it to me.”
Air filling with a jagged grunt of assent, Severus did, hips jerking forward as his cock drove into Harry in a long, hard thrust that made him cry out. Legs and arms clamping tight around Severus’s body as his head bumped clumsily against the wall, eyes squeezing shut around the pleasure. The picture frame, already jostled by their movements, rattled against the wall.
“Fuck,” Harry choked out, once Severus was fully seated. Merlin, he was so full. His hole stretched wide over Severus’s thick cock. The length of him, shorter than some, Harry knew from all his time in the Quidditch locker room, nudging against his insides so perfectly he wanted it inside him for hours.
For days.
For quite possibly the rest of his life.
Hips rolling, Harry chased the sensation; the small space between the wall and Severus’s body giving him little room or leverage to work with, but he didn’t care. It felt too good. Even with just these little movements.
“Open your eyes,” Severus demanded after a few more small jerks of Harry’s hips, his voice a rough growl that Harry felt helpless but to obey.
Mouth opening around a breathless noise, Harry blinked wetly, face pinched in pleasure as Severus’s hips moved with his, cock rocking inside him.
“That’s it,” Severus praised, dark gaze blown and heavy-lidded as it roved over Harry’s pleasure-stricken face. “Good boy.”
Another breathless sound, Harry’s cock jerking between them, tip slick with more pre-come, and then Severus was thrusting. Faster now, harder. The sudden burst of speed was enough to make Harry shout, eyes struggling to stay open as his slow, jerking movements were overtaken by hard, deep thrusts that bounced him up and down the wall.
Severus’s hands gripping bruises on his skin as he clutched him close and watched him. The feel of his gaze was like a weight that tethered Harry to the moment. The low, harsh grunts Severus made with every thrust heating Harry’s skin.
“Fuck, don’t stop,” Harry begged, cock dragging sticky-wet against the man’s stomach. He was already close. Could feel the hot, urgent press of his orgasm tightening in his balls and tingling up his spine.
A few more thrusts, another few drags against his cock, and he’d come between them, messy and desperate and aching to do it all over again. And again. And again—as many times as they could, before his parents were back home, and they were forced to go back to pretending to be nothing more than distantly friendly acquaintances with each other.
Shuddering, Harry’s thighs tightened around Severus’s waist, a moan catching in his throat as a shock of pleasure jolted through him. “Severus, I’m – fuck – ’m close. ‘m gonna – already –!”
Back arching against the wall, Harry all but sobbed as he came, eyes rolling in his head as his cock jerked and spurted between them. Biting out something harsh and low, Severus seemed to redouble his efforts, the filthy, frantic sound of flesh meeting flesh loud in the entryway as Harry’s orgasm triggered his own. The tight clench of Severus’s hands clamping on his hips drawing out another helpless sob of pleasure as his thrusts eventually slowed to a deep, circular grind that made Harry’s cock give one last desperate spurt of come between them.
Panting, Harry trembled, eyelids fluttering as Severus finally stilled, the man’s cock still twitching inside him as he filled him full with his spend. He could already feel it leaking out of him, a painfully intimate sensation that he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to do without. Not if he could help it.
“Harry,” Severus murmured after a few more moments had passed, their breathing slower now, less frantic, as they continued to press in close together. Their grip on one another was just as tight, just as eager. No less desperate.
Harry sighed happily, head turning just so to drag a lazy, contented kiss over Severus’s open mouth. “Mm, Severus. You always feel so good.” As if to prove his point, Harry clenched down around the man’s softening cock, shivering at the rough noise he made at the action. “I’ve missed you inside me.”
“Foolish boy,” Severus said again, voice low and filled with something that made Harry’s chest ache sharply and his throat tighten. Hand lifting away from Harry’s hip, Severus cupped the side of his face, head leaning back to study him as his thumb brushed gently at the tender skin beneath one of Harry’s eyes, knuckle bumping the crooked edge of his glasses. “What am I to do with you?”
Swallowing thickly, Harry pressed his face into the touch, eyes momentarily closing as he savored the sensation. It was tempting, so tempting, to just say the words trapped behind his teeth. To give voice to the feelings, Harry knew they both already had for one another.
But he wouldn’t.
Not here.
Not now.
Not with his naked body pressed against the entryway’s wall of his parents’ home, his mother’s favorite muggle painting barely clinging on next to him, Severus’s come slowly leaking out of him, and the promise of days, maybe even weeks, of just the two of them here together. Away from prying eyes and judging faces. Away from anyone and everyone who might try to force them apart.
No, Harry wouldn’t say that.
Instead, he pressed a gentle kiss to the heel of Severus’s palm and met the other man’s gaze as he shoved that too-full, aching feeling aside and smiled fondly at him.
“You could take me into the sitting room,” he offered easily, head tilting provocatively and hole fluttering around him once more. “And do this all again.”
“Foolish,” Severus rumbled, dark eyes tracing over his face before pulling him into another slow, devouring kiss. One that promised Harry everything that he could have hoped for. Everything that he could have dreamed.
At least for a little while.
At least for now.