Accidental Voyeur: Worshipping
Title: Worshipping (Accidental Voyeur 7/7)
Rating: M for graphic smut of the m/m variety
Author's Note: This may not make much sense if you haven't read the earlier installments. There's certainly no plot without them... Beta-type comments always welcome.
”Severus, take me to bed.”
Lust overwhelms Severus’s realization that he, like the rest of the Wizarding world, will give Harry I’m-Invincible Potter anything he wants. With a low growl, Severus grabs Harry by the wrist and drags him into Severus’s bedroom.
If Harry’s cock touches Severus’s, even through their robes, he will be unable to resist the temptation to fling Harry down on the narrow bed and take what has been offered. Harry hasn’t asked for a quick fuck, and Severus is powerless to disappoint the Boy Conqueror. Instead, Severus steps back.
“Strip.”
Harry unbuttons his robe slowly, his smile still a trifle uncertain. Severus says nothing as his eyes follow the golden garment to the stone floor. Harry wears one of those ridiculous Muggle business suits underneath, playing both sides, as usual. Still, that means more buttons for Harry to undo while Severus watches.
Harry steps out of the pooled robe, shrugging the jacket off his shoulders. Severus has never understood the use of a jacket which barely closes. The shirt Harry wears underneath is obviously silk. No other fabric shimmers that way, even with the help of softening charms. Severus steps forward to help Harry unbutton it.
“Please.” The word slithers from Harry’s lips, accompanied by a slight tilt of Harry’s hips. Severus freezes. Acquiescing will end this delicious dance far too soon. He forces a scowl and steps back again.
“Take it off, Mr. Potter.”
Harry opens his mouth and Severus braces himself for the inevitable protest.
Harry sounds almost lost when he finally forms words. “You will touch me, though, right?”
“Is that what your depraved little heart desires, Mr. Potter?” Severus just manages to control his voice.
“Yes...” The look on Harry’s face almost undoes Severus.
Severus walks around behind Harry. Leaning close enough to inhale the intoxicating smell of Harry’s sweat and desire, Severus whispers, “Then I will. In good time.”
Harry’s hands hesitate on the fourth button. He sways back, as if trying to lean against Severus.
Severus steps to the side, denying himself the weight of Harry’s back against his increasingly urgent erection. “Mr. Potter. If you want me to touch you, I suggest you finish stripping.”
Harry groans, screwing up his face as he continues to unbutton his shirt. The silk hangs across his nipples, tempting Severus to follow it with his tongue. Severus promises himself that he will taste that nipple, so seemingly delicate against the Harry’s sparsely-furred chest.
The muscles of Harry’s shoulders entrance Severus as Harry shrugs his shirt off. Harry’s words echo in Severus’s mind. How your nails feel on my back. Curling one hand into a claw, Severus follows the silk down Harry’s back. His light touch draws a shiver from Harry. Severus gives in to the temptation of cruelty, digging his nails in just above the waistband of Harry’s slacks.
Harry flinches, gasping. He turns his head to look at Severus, and Severus cannot read his expression. Has he gone too far for the Most Golden Gryffindor? Severus takes refuge in sarcasm and lies. “Did you think the offer of your body would change me, Mr. Potter?”
“Never that, Severus.” Harry smiles, and Severus breathes behind his indifferent mask.
Harry undoes his belt. Severus has never gotten used to the idea of metal, or even Muggle plastic, teeth that close to his privates, but the slow lowering of the zipper makes Harry’s undiminished interest quite clear.
“Whenever you’re ready, Mr. Potter.” Severus looks away as Harry inches his pants down.
“And here I thought you were enjoying the show.” Gloriously naked, Harry spreads his arms. “One naked Potter, as requested.”
Severus takes a moment to appreciate the sight before walking around behind Harry again. “And will you do everything I request tonight, Mr. Potter?”
Severus has time to wonder if he has overstepped the invisible limits of this evening before Harry answers.
“On two conditions.”
“And those would be?” Years of practice hide Severus’s uncertainty behind the low purr of his voice.
“That you call me Harry, and that you stop if I say Quidditch.”
“I believe I can abide by those restrictions... Harry.”
“Then I will do everything you ask of me, Severus.”
For a moment, Severus considers having Harry brew a headache draught or suck Severus off, but the first is too pettily mundane and the second... Severus is no longer young enough to be sure he will manage a second erection in a given night.
Severus runs a hand over Harry’s shoulders. The skin feels soft and slightly cool against his roughened fingertips. For a moment, Severus imagines that Harry’s skin will snag as easily as the discarded silk shirt.
Murmuring a quiet Restrictus on his balls, Severus steps closer and lets his hands, both of them now, drift around Harry. Severus can feel thin scars lacing across Harry’s chest. Are they souvenirs from Voldemort, or the leavings of other cruelties? Severus tries not to want to know. This, now, is all Harry has offered, and all Severus needs.
Severus breathes in the scent of Harry, the slightly astringent tang of his shampoo, the sour aftertaste of sweat, the intoxicating musk of desire. Desire for Severus, of all people. Severus traces circles around Harry’s nipples, glorying in the soft skin and Harry’s short breaths.
“Yes...” Harry hisses as Severus pinches both nipples at once. The sounds Harry makes tempt Severus almost as much as the rich smells of the Man Who Has Everything. How will Harry taste? Severus bends his head enough to bite the muscle atop Harry’s shoulder: salt sweat over sweet skin, deliciously accompanied by a loud “Oh!” Harry leans against Severus, seeming to have difficulty standing.
Stepping back, Severus smirks as Harry wobbles. Harry Potter, the Champion of the Wizarding World, made weak-kneed by Severus Snape. The irony is almost as delicious as the man himself.
“Lie down on the bed.”
Harry smiles at him as he complies. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Mr. Potter.” Severus holds up a hand before Harry can object. “Harry. You may not enjoy what I’m planning for you.” Severus has very little idea what he will do. Sex is not Potions, where every ingredient, every motion, must be thought out in advance. Severus is content to work this out as it happens, but Harry need not know that.
Harry stretches himself out on the bed, legs spread and wrists crossed above his head, as if he were to be bound. “I’ll let you know if I find anything to object to.” Harry’s sentence ends on a gasp as Severus draws a fingernail up the sole of Harry’s foot, but Harry doesn’t move out of reach. It seems Harry has some idea of what he has agreed to. Severus smiles.
“Disvestio.” Severus is not proud enough of his body to make the show of disrobing that the Boy Wonder did, but he cannot resist the lure of skin contact forever. Severus kneels between Harry’s thighs, running his hands first up Harry’s legs, lightly covered in wiry hairs that catch on Severus’s fingers, then over Harry’s torso.
Tracing the fine lacework of scars with his fingers, Severus leans forward. Severus licks a nipple, still pertly erect. Harry purrs. Severus nips, and Harry arches upwards, moaning softly, straining for the contact Severus still denies them both.
Severus works his way across Harry’s chest with nips, licks, and bites. He nuzzles into Harry’s armpit, glorying in the rich, heavy smell of a willing, wanting, adult male, and memorizing the extra notes that identify Harry himself.
“Delicious.” Only when Harry laughs, breathlessly, does Severus realize that he spoke aloud. Suddenly afraid that Harry is laughing at him, Severus snakes a hand between them. Grabbing any man’s penis is a sure way to divert his attention. The Man Who Lives to Torment Severus is no different. Harry’s laughter turns into a moan and Severus smirks.
“Yes, please. Severus.” Harry groans as Severus slowly strokes Harry’s erection. Severus begins working his way down, stopping to bite at Harry’s nipple again.
“Fuck.”
“Perhaps later.”
“Perhaps?” Harry gasps as Severus nips at what must be a sensitive patch under the Golden Gryffindor’s ribs. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you.”
“Perhaps.”
“What a way to go, though... Oh!” Harry arches as Severus reaches his goal, licking the head of Harry’s cock. Harry tastes of innocence, no matter what someone else might think of his wanton pose. The bitter musk of Harry’s willing desire fills Severus’s world as he nuzzles the crinkly hair around Harry’s balls.
Stretching out, Severus licks up Harry’s cock. Delicious. Severus takes the tip into his mouth, running his tongue around the edge. Harry’s soft chant of “Please, please” draws a faint smile and a long hesitation before Severus leans down, nuzzling into the curls at the base as the tip nuzzles into his throat. He has missed this, and will miss it again when Harry moves on.
Severus slides a finger behind Harry’s balls as he sucks on Harry’s cock, moving slowly enough to draw more begging whimpers from Harry. “Please, Severus, oh!” Severus smirks around his mouthful as his finger finds Harry’s anus and begins, very gently, tracing circles around it. Harry spreads his legs just a little wider. The implicit invitation steals Severus’s breath.
“Is there something you want, Harry?” Severus lets his prize slide from his mouth long enough to breathe the words over it.
“Yes... Severus...” The words hiss from Harry’s lips.
“And that would be?” Harry’s cock strains towards Severus’s mouth and Severus cannot resist demanding that Harry actually repeat his desires.
“Suck me, fuck me, anything, Severus...”
Under his breath, Severus calls a small bottle of lotion from the bathroom.
“Anything, hmm?”
“Please!” Harry’s whimper turns to an incoherent cry as Severus drops his mouth back down, swallowing Harry’s cock and sliding two greased fingers in a quick swirl around and into Harry’s arse. Harry freezes, his back arching as Severus tempers the stark intrusion with gentle motions and strong suction. When Severus finds Harry’s prostate, the Boy Who Lived turns into the Man Who Howled.
Severus sets a quick pace. He has never wanted anything as much as he wants to taste Harry, swallow Harry whole, bury himself in Harry.
“Sev!” Harry cries out. Severus’s cock twitches demandingly as Harry’s orgasm fills his mouth and squeezes his fingers. Severus cannot bring himself to object to the nickname as he moves up Harry’s body, sharing the delicious bitterness with a rough kiss. Harry moans against Severus’s mouth. Aftershocks shake Harry, rippling around Severus’s fingers.
Swallowing the last trace of Harry’s semen, Severus nips at Harry’s lips. He can’t repress a smirk at the dazed look in Harry’s eyes.
“I trust that was... acceptable.”
“Definitely.” Harry frees an arm from his self-imposed bondage to touch Severus’s face. “But...”
“Objections, Harry?”
Harry grins. “Not at all. Just a question.”
“And that would be?”
“Do I have to wait until next time for you to fuck me?”
Severus is struck speechless at the thought of a ‘next time’, but before he can come up with a witty reply, his cock siezes on the blatant invitation. Severus bends his head to suck on a spot below Harry’s ear, drawing out a delightful purring moan. Severus adds a third finger to Harry’s arse, while his free hand slicks his cock.
“No. No, you don’t.” Severus sinks into Harry. Tight, perfect, gorgeous Harry Bloody Potter. Severus gladly loses the disquieting realization that he is, after all, no different from the rest of the wizarding world. What does that matter when he can worship Harry?
Rating: M for graphic smut of the m/m variety
Author's Note: This may not make much sense if you haven't read the earlier installments. There's certainly no plot without them... Beta-type comments always welcome.
”Severus, take me to bed.”
Lust overwhelms Severus’s realization that he, like the rest of the Wizarding world, will give Harry I’m-Invincible Potter anything he wants. With a low growl, Severus grabs Harry by the wrist and drags him into Severus’s bedroom.
If Harry’s cock touches Severus’s, even through their robes, he will be unable to resist the temptation to fling Harry down on the narrow bed and take what has been offered. Harry hasn’t asked for a quick fuck, and Severus is powerless to disappoint the Boy Conqueror. Instead, Severus steps back.
“Strip.”
Harry unbuttons his robe slowly, his smile still a trifle uncertain. Severus says nothing as his eyes follow the golden garment to the stone floor. Harry wears one of those ridiculous Muggle business suits underneath, playing both sides, as usual. Still, that means more buttons for Harry to undo while Severus watches.
Harry steps out of the pooled robe, shrugging the jacket off his shoulders. Severus has never understood the use of a jacket which barely closes. The shirt Harry wears underneath is obviously silk. No other fabric shimmers that way, even with the help of softening charms. Severus steps forward to help Harry unbutton it.
“Please.” The word slithers from Harry’s lips, accompanied by a slight tilt of Harry’s hips. Severus freezes. Acquiescing will end this delicious dance far too soon. He forces a scowl and steps back again.
“Take it off, Mr. Potter.”
Harry opens his mouth and Severus braces himself for the inevitable protest.
Harry sounds almost lost when he finally forms words. “You will touch me, though, right?”
“Is that what your depraved little heart desires, Mr. Potter?” Severus just manages to control his voice.
“Yes...” The look on Harry’s face almost undoes Severus.
Severus walks around behind Harry. Leaning close enough to inhale the intoxicating smell of Harry’s sweat and desire, Severus whispers, “Then I will. In good time.”
Harry’s hands hesitate on the fourth button. He sways back, as if trying to lean against Severus.
Severus steps to the side, denying himself the weight of Harry’s back against his increasingly urgent erection. “Mr. Potter. If you want me to touch you, I suggest you finish stripping.”
Harry groans, screwing up his face as he continues to unbutton his shirt. The silk hangs across his nipples, tempting Severus to follow it with his tongue. Severus promises himself that he will taste that nipple, so seemingly delicate against the Harry’s sparsely-furred chest.
The muscles of Harry’s shoulders entrance Severus as Harry shrugs his shirt off. Harry’s words echo in Severus’s mind. How your nails feel on my back. Curling one hand into a claw, Severus follows the silk down Harry’s back. His light touch draws a shiver from Harry. Severus gives in to the temptation of cruelty, digging his nails in just above the waistband of Harry’s slacks.
Harry flinches, gasping. He turns his head to look at Severus, and Severus cannot read his expression. Has he gone too far for the Most Golden Gryffindor? Severus takes refuge in sarcasm and lies. “Did you think the offer of your body would change me, Mr. Potter?”
“Never that, Severus.” Harry smiles, and Severus breathes behind his indifferent mask.
Harry undoes his belt. Severus has never gotten used to the idea of metal, or even Muggle plastic, teeth that close to his privates, but the slow lowering of the zipper makes Harry’s undiminished interest quite clear.
“Whenever you’re ready, Mr. Potter.” Severus looks away as Harry inches his pants down.
“And here I thought you were enjoying the show.” Gloriously naked, Harry spreads his arms. “One naked Potter, as requested.”
Severus takes a moment to appreciate the sight before walking around behind Harry again. “And will you do everything I request tonight, Mr. Potter?”
Severus has time to wonder if he has overstepped the invisible limits of this evening before Harry answers.
“On two conditions.”
“And those would be?” Years of practice hide Severus’s uncertainty behind the low purr of his voice.
“That you call me Harry, and that you stop if I say Quidditch.”
“I believe I can abide by those restrictions... Harry.”
“Then I will do everything you ask of me, Severus.”
For a moment, Severus considers having Harry brew a headache draught or suck Severus off, but the first is too pettily mundane and the second... Severus is no longer young enough to be sure he will manage a second erection in a given night.
Severus runs a hand over Harry’s shoulders. The skin feels soft and slightly cool against his roughened fingertips. For a moment, Severus imagines that Harry’s skin will snag as easily as the discarded silk shirt.
Murmuring a quiet Restrictus on his balls, Severus steps closer and lets his hands, both of them now, drift around Harry. Severus can feel thin scars lacing across Harry’s chest. Are they souvenirs from Voldemort, or the leavings of other cruelties? Severus tries not to want to know. This, now, is all Harry has offered, and all Severus needs.
Severus breathes in the scent of Harry, the slightly astringent tang of his shampoo, the sour aftertaste of sweat, the intoxicating musk of desire. Desire for Severus, of all people. Severus traces circles around Harry’s nipples, glorying in the soft skin and Harry’s short breaths.
“Yes...” Harry hisses as Severus pinches both nipples at once. The sounds Harry makes tempt Severus almost as much as the rich smells of the Man Who Has Everything. How will Harry taste? Severus bends his head enough to bite the muscle atop Harry’s shoulder: salt sweat over sweet skin, deliciously accompanied by a loud “Oh!” Harry leans against Severus, seeming to have difficulty standing.
Stepping back, Severus smirks as Harry wobbles. Harry Potter, the Champion of the Wizarding World, made weak-kneed by Severus Snape. The irony is almost as delicious as the man himself.
“Lie down on the bed.”
Harry smiles at him as he complies. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Mr. Potter.” Severus holds up a hand before Harry can object. “Harry. You may not enjoy what I’m planning for you.” Severus has very little idea what he will do. Sex is not Potions, where every ingredient, every motion, must be thought out in advance. Severus is content to work this out as it happens, but Harry need not know that.
Harry stretches himself out on the bed, legs spread and wrists crossed above his head, as if he were to be bound. “I’ll let you know if I find anything to object to.” Harry’s sentence ends on a gasp as Severus draws a fingernail up the sole of Harry’s foot, but Harry doesn’t move out of reach. It seems Harry has some idea of what he has agreed to. Severus smiles.
“Disvestio.” Severus is not proud enough of his body to make the show of disrobing that the Boy Wonder did, but he cannot resist the lure of skin contact forever. Severus kneels between Harry’s thighs, running his hands first up Harry’s legs, lightly covered in wiry hairs that catch on Severus’s fingers, then over Harry’s torso.
Tracing the fine lacework of scars with his fingers, Severus leans forward. Severus licks a nipple, still pertly erect. Harry purrs. Severus nips, and Harry arches upwards, moaning softly, straining for the contact Severus still denies them both.
Severus works his way across Harry’s chest with nips, licks, and bites. He nuzzles into Harry’s armpit, glorying in the rich, heavy smell of a willing, wanting, adult male, and memorizing the extra notes that identify Harry himself.
“Delicious.” Only when Harry laughs, breathlessly, does Severus realize that he spoke aloud. Suddenly afraid that Harry is laughing at him, Severus snakes a hand between them. Grabbing any man’s penis is a sure way to divert his attention. The Man Who Lives to Torment Severus is no different. Harry’s laughter turns into a moan and Severus smirks.
“Yes, please. Severus.” Harry groans as Severus slowly strokes Harry’s erection. Severus begins working his way down, stopping to bite at Harry’s nipple again.
“Fuck.”
“Perhaps later.”
“Perhaps?” Harry gasps as Severus nips at what must be a sensitive patch under the Golden Gryffindor’s ribs. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you.”
“Perhaps.”
“What a way to go, though... Oh!” Harry arches as Severus reaches his goal, licking the head of Harry’s cock. Harry tastes of innocence, no matter what someone else might think of his wanton pose. The bitter musk of Harry’s willing desire fills Severus’s world as he nuzzles the crinkly hair around Harry’s balls.
Stretching out, Severus licks up Harry’s cock. Delicious. Severus takes the tip into his mouth, running his tongue around the edge. Harry’s soft chant of “Please, please” draws a faint smile and a long hesitation before Severus leans down, nuzzling into the curls at the base as the tip nuzzles into his throat. He has missed this, and will miss it again when Harry moves on.
Severus slides a finger behind Harry’s balls as he sucks on Harry’s cock, moving slowly enough to draw more begging whimpers from Harry. “Please, Severus, oh!” Severus smirks around his mouthful as his finger finds Harry’s anus and begins, very gently, tracing circles around it. Harry spreads his legs just a little wider. The implicit invitation steals Severus’s breath.
“Is there something you want, Harry?” Severus lets his prize slide from his mouth long enough to breathe the words over it.
“Yes... Severus...” The words hiss from Harry’s lips.
“And that would be?” Harry’s cock strains towards Severus’s mouth and Severus cannot resist demanding that Harry actually repeat his desires.
“Suck me, fuck me, anything, Severus...”
Under his breath, Severus calls a small bottle of lotion from the bathroom.
“Anything, hmm?”
“Please!” Harry’s whimper turns to an incoherent cry as Severus drops his mouth back down, swallowing Harry’s cock and sliding two greased fingers in a quick swirl around and into Harry’s arse. Harry freezes, his back arching as Severus tempers the stark intrusion with gentle motions and strong suction. When Severus finds Harry’s prostate, the Boy Who Lived turns into the Man Who Howled.
Severus sets a quick pace. He has never wanted anything as much as he wants to taste Harry, swallow Harry whole, bury himself in Harry.
“Sev!” Harry cries out. Severus’s cock twitches demandingly as Harry’s orgasm fills his mouth and squeezes his fingers. Severus cannot bring himself to object to the nickname as he moves up Harry’s body, sharing the delicious bitterness with a rough kiss. Harry moans against Severus’s mouth. Aftershocks shake Harry, rippling around Severus’s fingers.
Swallowing the last trace of Harry’s semen, Severus nips at Harry’s lips. He can’t repress a smirk at the dazed look in Harry’s eyes.
“I trust that was... acceptable.”
“Definitely.” Harry frees an arm from his self-imposed bondage to touch Severus’s face. “But...”
“Objections, Harry?”
Harry grins. “Not at all. Just a question.”
“And that would be?”
“Do I have to wait until next time for you to fuck me?”
Severus is struck speechless at the thought of a ‘next time’, but before he can come up with a witty reply, his cock siezes on the blatant invitation. Severus bends his head to suck on a spot below Harry’s ear, drawing out a delightful purring moan. Severus adds a third finger to Harry’s arse, while his free hand slicks his cock.
“No. No, you don’t.” Severus sinks into Harry. Tight, perfect, gorgeous Harry Bloody Potter. Severus gladly loses the disquieting realization that he is, after all, no different from the rest of the wizarding world. What does that matter when he can worship Harry?