Disclaimer: Oh, I only wish. Umm... I own a kitten. She's fluffy!
All Purpose Salve
Harry glowered sidelong, arms folded over his chest. "I'm not talking to you."
Severus' low chuckle met his ears. "So sensitive, Mister Potter. Then, what would happen if your teammates knew--?"
"I thought you weren't talking to me."
Harry pursed his mouth and said nothing.
With a smirk, Severus sat on the bed and folded his hands primly in his lap. His hair was wet from the bath and stuck to the back of his neck. The collar of his dressing gown revealed an arrowhead of pallid flesh just beneath the bottom edge of the sunburn around his throat. "Just think," he murmured, his voice turning silken and malicious, "the famous Harry Potter, the living god who's Sought for England and claimed the Quidditch Cup, was bested by--"
"I said shut up!"
"--A pear tree."
Harry snarled. He ignored a cool breeze cutting across the side of his face where a mess of branches had flayed most of the upper layers of skin. "That wasn't a fair win and you know it."
"On the contrary, how many times have you won a match on the grounds of your opposite ploughing into the pitch?"
"Still say it wasn't a fair win," Harry grumped. He adjusted the bottom of his own dressing gown so it covered his legs and went back to leaning against the pillows. Almost as an afterthought, he stabbed a finger at Severus. "And don't get used to it! That's the only time you're getting your hands on that Snitch, y'greasy..." he trailed off, grumbling.
Sev's smirk widened. A red patch shone on his nose, the rest of his face and hands varying shades of pink and red. "Dear me. Does your ego need soothing?"
"You're gonna need soothing once I'm finished with you." Harry stared at nothing. A bit of motion caught his eye and he arched an eyebrow at the hand snaking across the duvet. "Don't even try it."
"Whatever it is you're doing. You're not getting any tonight."
Severus pulled his hand back and laid it against his chest. "I'm hurt. Really, Harry, I show one small sign of affection and you respond as though I only wanted you for your body."
"Good thing you don't, then, 'cause you're not having it!" Harry growled again at the way Sev was slowly becoming more and more horizontal. He jerked at his dressing gown again, making sure it covered his legs past the knee and was as closed at his neck as he could get it. "I'm never letting you near a broom again."
A few moments later, warm breath teased his ear. "But you've got such a lovely one." Severus' fingers started walking their way up Harry's hip in a zigzagging line. "It would be a shame to lock it away."
"Just watch me." Harry stared straight ahead, pointedly ignoring the lips tracing the curve of his ear and the hand wiggling its way between his legs. Sev's thumb rubbed slow circles while the rest of his fingers cupped and squeezed. Harry swallowed; he blinked hard and forced himself to go back to staring.
That plan failed the moment a wet, pointed tongue replaced the lips, winding its way around the curve of his earlobe. Half the room went one way and half went the other - or, possibly, his eyes had crossed and the room simply refused to compensate. He swallowed and kept his mouth shut tight. Harry was suddenly very glad his dressing gown was terrycloth and thus good at absorbing the sweat breaking out on his palms.
"Have I ever told you how much I enjoy watching you fly?" Sev murmured. His voice was heavy, dark, smooth as treacle and insinuative as rum. He kneaded Harry's testicles through two layers of heavy cloth in a way that probably should have been illegal. His other hand came around to stroke the side of Harry's neck. "In fact, I enjoy it so much that I've had to leave the odd match to, ah, arrange a small Silencing Charm someplace I can be alone?"
Harry's eyes snapped into focus. They fell straight back to staring in two different directions when his earlobe was caught between two smirking lips. He managed not to say anything, but a sudden shift in blood volume betrayed as much as any sort of noise could have done. Sev chuckled and let his mouth trail over Harry's neck as he spoke.
"Once, I even found a use for those damned Omnioculars you've got. I completely lost track of time watching you swoop down, your hands curled around your broomstick like it was your cock, sliding your hips back and forth ever so slightly as though you were trying to pace yourself. You look so determined like that. I've only ever seen you look that determined off the pitch when you've got your prick in me. I must say, between seeing you like that and imagining it was my broomstick you were holding, it was quite some time before I made it back to my seat."
Harry's breathing was a bit ragged by this point, and his fingers twitched against his dressing gown. The fact that the thing had developed a lump didn't help matters very much, either. Severus shifted just enough to introduce a similar lump to the side of Harry's hip. Harry very nearly didn't stifle a whimper.
"Do you know what I'd like to do someday?"
"What?" Harry breathed before he could remind himself he wasn't putting out until Severus apologised for winning.
The soft laugh that gusted across his jaw sent another rush of blood south. Letting his teeth rest around Harry's earlobe for a bare second, Sev murmured, "When our summer tenants have gone for the year, I'd like to wait for you downstairs. I want the first thing you see when you Apparate to be me, naked and tending to myself. I might not even see you. After all, those Omnioculars are so very effective. I might even lose track of time again. In fact, I think you could walk straight up to me and I wouldn't notice until you slid yourself into my mouth."
"Oh, god..." Harry's eyes rolled back. His bones seemed to ooze from his body, leaving him limp against the pillows.
"How would you like that, mi Harry? Sitting across my chest, letting your cock slide into my mouth only for the hand with which I'm rubbing myself to move faster as I suck? Of course, I'd have to ask that you take that blasted device away from my eyes. Why would I want to have a picture when the real thing is already in my throat?"
Harry had already gotten the knot in his terrycloth belt halfway loosened before he realised what his hands were doing. He jerked them away, folded them against his belly, twitched with every stroke of a thumb or flutter of lips. Thin, crescent-shaped pains bit into the backs of his hands. I'm not enjoying this. I'm not enjoying this. Oh, god, keep doing that, you greasy bastard. I'm not enjoying this. I'm not enjoying this...
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
Harry swallowed. "Why would I be enjoying myself?" he asked, voice cracking in a way he most heartily did his best to ignore.
"Because you usually do when I do this." Sev squeezed once more, pressing his fingers into the soft place at the top of Harry's scrotum. Harry made a loud gurgling sound and grabbed the duvet for dear life as his groin seemed to swallow up most of his body.
"Sweet Merlin!" he yelled.
"I'm not quite sure I got that. Could you repeat it?" Sev squeezed again. Harry choked. He pressed back into the mountain of pillows, hips jerking. A long squall, like a cat caught in a rainstorm, exited his raspy throat. Before his hands could be converted into two more extensions of his genitalia, he managed to tug loose the last of the belt. His robe fell open from neck to just above the tip of Sev's thumb.
"Get on with it," he croaked.
Sev paused. He pulled back and blinked. His hand didn't stop moving as he gave Harry's naked body a quizzical look. "Get on with what?"
With a snarl, Harry reached around and clamped a hand down on Severus' arse. "You know what I mean and you know it."
What he'd said struck him the same moment Sev sniggered. "I know what you mean and I know it," the greasy bastard repeated, tasting each word as it fell from his tongue. "One certainly does seem prerequisite for the other."
Growling, Harry squeezed. He let one of his fingers press into the cleft of Sev's backside. Sev shivered into it. He blinked a couple of times, that damned smirk of his faltering for an instant.
"You know what I mean," Harry said through his teeth.
"Yes, you do."
"Perhaps you ought to make sure?"
Pursing his mouth, Harry yanked Sev closer by his arse. Face to face, he growled, "Fuck me."
"You heard me."
"I heard you say 'fuck me'. I'm afraid you'll have to clarify, though. I don't quite know what you mean."
"You bastard," Harry hissed. He dragged Sev's dressing gown up over his hips and let his finger slide back into place. Sev made a small noise that might have been a stifled whimper. Rubbing back and forth, Harry snarled, "You know perfectly well what I mean."
Sev looked as blank as anyone could whilst having his arsehole stroked.
"I don't have to put out, you know." Harry squeaked and arched as Sev gave an especially precise poke.
"'Put out'? Is that something guinea pigs do?"
"You..." Harry's breath escaped in a building series of squeaks as Severus pushed aside the edges of the robe and put his hand back in place without the detriment of terrycloth. Harry slapped his other hand across the back of Severus' neck and pulled him down to crotch level.
"I'm sorry, I still don't get your meaning."
"What's your next guess?"
"I assume you've got me down here to look at something. After all, there's very little else I can do from here unless you intend for me to use my mouth--"
"Ah, I see. So you do wish me to use my mouth."
Harry whimpered again. His hips jerked upwards the slightest bit.
"Very well, then. What would you like to talk about?"
"That is what I do with my mouth, after all. There's very little else, apart from eating, and occasionally breathing but as you know I've not had a cold in quite some time." Sev's lips brushed the tip of Harry's foreskin. Harry yelped, and the pucker of skin beneath his finger twitched, but Sev only went on. "Then, I suppose I could always develop hay fever. The immune system is dreadfully unpredictable sometimes. Allergies can develop when one least expects it. I don't relish the idea of suffering through six months of pollen each year, but--"
Harry pushed him down. Sev went, "Oomp," and fitted his lips around Harry's shaft. The flat of his tongue rested against the smooth skin at the tip, then set to work, stroking and sliding and teasing the tiny slit in a way that made Harry turn to jelly.
"God, you're such a pain in the arse," he breathed. He closed his eyes, letting a whimper when Sev took him in all the way, those long fingers rubbing small circles into the base of his scrotum. Harry managed to gather enough focus to return the favour as much as one fingertip would allow. He pulled his hand back for a bare instant - triggering a growl - and licked his finger before putting it back. The low moan vibrating around his cock made him grin.
"Thought you might like that. Oh, god, just like that." He arched as Sev's strong tongue drew another lick along the wide vein running along the bottom of his prick. "You're too damned good at this."
Sev quirked an eyebrow. He lifted his head, shivering as Harry wiggled his finger in a tight circle. "I could do worse."
"Not on your life." Harry pushed his head back down. "Oh, god." As a reward for good behaviour (namely, the tongue-tip currently wiggling its way under his foreskin), he pushed just hard enough for the pad of his finger to ease inside. The tongue stopped; it was replaced with a noise he couldn't even identify but took as a good thing, as Sev all but backed onto his hand.
Sev muttered something around his cock.
Sev lifted his head, much to Harry's annoyance. "Get the bottle."
Harry blinked. Oh, shit. You didn't mention that yet, did you? The bottle, not that Sev knew it yet, currently contained approximately half a drop. (A section of the floor under the bed, however, was still nicely lubricated and ready for action.) Given the choice between looking innocent (something that inevitably got him in trouble) and covering it up, he chose, for once, the wiser option. "Not yet. You're going to have to earn it tonight, mate."
"I thought I just had."
"Nope." Harry dragged Sev up so they were face to face, Sev straddling his lap. "Haven't even gotten a proper kiss yet."
"Never stopped you before." Severus untied his dressing gown and wriggled out, letting it fall to the bed in a pointless lump.
"Well, it is tonight, so if you want to get any you'd better pay up." Harry motioned with one hand, plucking off his glasses and dropping them on the pillow with the other. "Come on, plant 'em on me."
"Insufferable brat," Sev muttered, but squashed his mouth to Harry's anyway, completely skipping the romantic niceties and going straight for the tonsils. Harry made an "oomph" sound, and joined in.
Between the tangling of tongues that made every hair on his body stand at attention, the long fingers curled into the back of his skull and his sacrum, and the somewhat insistent wiggling of Sev's hips, Harry found himself squashed up against the headboard by twelve stone of maritus. He broke away, panting. "You're frisky tonight."
Sev's flushed, wet lips pulled back from his teeth for a moment. "So glad you've finally noticed," he growled.
Harry grinned. Even that straightforward of an answer was a pretty good indication that within minutes Sev would be begging. Well, demanding, anyway, but begging in his own special way for anyone who knew what to look for (Harry).
Partially in capitulation, partially just to see how far he could push things, he let his fingertips walk their way down Sev's spine and settle against the warm little hole again. Sev groaned, his entire body arching and rolling in a long, slow, serpentine wave. He wiggled his behind, trying to push back; Harry pulled his hand away.
Sev growled. "Stop that."
"Nope. I told you, you're going to have to earn it tonight."
"I've earned it."
"You'll have earned it when I say you have." Harry kissed him again, if only to shut him up, and let his finger press down. Every time Sev tried to surreptitiously impale himself (as if that weren't a contradiction in terms), Harry took it away.
"Would you stop that!" Severus roared after the fourth time.
Sev blinked. His lip curled. "I beg your pardon?"
"No, beg me to stick it in."
"Beg me to stick it in."
"Shan't do any such thing."
"Then I reckon you're not getting any tonight."
Sev glared. Unfortunately for him, it was somewhat difficult to achieve the desired effect while his swollen and rigid nether bits were all but dancing for attention.
"Are you going to do it?"
A pause. "What do I get?"
Harry leaned close to his ear and whispered, "You get me screaming and moaning and begging you to fuck me like the world's about to end. And you get some."
Sev swallowed. His voice threatened to crack as he asked, "What else?"
Harry drew a long, slow, curving line from the corner of Sev's earlobe to the crease behind his ear. He dipped his tongue inside and followed the intricate ridges and hollows for good measure. He smirked to himself when Sev gave a short, helpless whimper.
"If you're good, I might even let you go twice," Harry whispered as he darted his tongue out one last time.
Sev sagged against him. Sallow fingers dug into Harry's shoulder. He pushed himself back, long strands of black and white hair falling in his face. His eyes were focused, too focused, burning and wild. With obvious difficulty, lips curling back, he snarled, "Would you please get the bottle?"
Sev stared at him. "No."
Harry grinned. It was a bit sheepish, but, really, that couldn't be helped. "It's, er, empty."
Sev blinked. "Explain this?" he asked in a silken tone.
"Well, y'remember the other day when you took Ruby to Hogwarts to show her around?"
"And I was here by myself because practise ended early when Coach got that bee sting and had to go to hospital?"
"Er, well, I know you don't like to do anything when Ruby stays the night in case she comes looking for us, like that one time..."
"Get on with it, Mister Potter."
"Um, I decided to have a wank and I dropped it."
"You dropped it."
"Yeah. Floor's a little slick under my side of the bed. You might want to be careful."
Sev stared at him.
"Lot in one of those little bottles, isn't there?"
Sev kept staring at him.
Harry grinned as well as he could. "At least we know it was a good batch."
Still, Sev stared.
Just as Harry's uncertain grin started to falter, the bastard turned his head away and muttered something. He glanced back. "You have no idea," he growled, and shifted up on his knees. One sallow hand dropped behind him and wrapped around Harry's prick. Biting his lip, Sev shifted. "You bloody... brat... should have your... god... head for... oh, god..."
"Oh, god!" Harry's head dropped back as he slid past muscles he'd only ever known with the aid of lubrication. They squeezed, hot and fiendishly tight. Sev grunted, wiggling his way down the smooth, but not slick, shaft.
"The things I do... oh, fuck... for y... Merlin's balls, Harry!" Sev threw his head back with a low, "Ungh." He jerked, shifting down another fraction of an inch. "I hope you're... oh, fucking god... enjoying... what... what you've... god... done."
"Only a little," Harry panted. His fingers curled into Severus' back. A loud voice in his head paused its playback of the Hallelujah Chorus for a moment to demand why they'd never done this before.
Drawing his knees up to give Sev some leverage, he leaned back, letting his maritus rest against his chest. One hand on each of Harry's shoulders, Sev lifted himself and dropped again, pelvis making a snaky little back-and-forth slide. Every tiny jerk eased him down another fraction of an inch; the steady friction tugged at Harry's foreskin, sent shivers and waves crashing through nerves he hadn't even know he'd got. He pulled Sev tight against his chest. "Don't even... think... think of stopping, you... greasy... fuck... bast..." his eyes rolled back in his head at an especially jerky slide.
"Consider... it... oh, god, Harry... pay... payback... in advance." Sev wiggled his hips. "Cheeky... brat..." he trailed off in a long, gibbering moan.
Harry moaned as well. He thrust his hips upwards, images of said payback flitting through his mind like so many wet dreams. Sev yelped, his head falling backwards and his hips settling into a clever figure eight pattern. He ground down, long lashes curling over his eyes as swells of moisture quivered in the reddish bottom curves.
The middle of Harry's body had once more swallowed the rest of him. Sev's skin against his sent tiny electric jolts coursing through his body. In fact, one long line all the way from his penis to his collarbone seemed to have been supercharged in some strange energy field. A layer of sweat built between them, letting their chests slide easily while other things still failed to do so (not that Harry was complaining). The fingers digging into Harry's shoulders tightened, pulsing and gripping; the sharp pain that forewarned a long-term bruise only got tangled in the electricity and made Harry lean his head back and bang it against the wall.
"Don't stop," he moaned. "Almost... fuck, yes... there."
Sev said nothing, only panted, his breathing ragged and determined. Something inside him clenched, and Harry yowled.
"OH, GOD, YES! KEEP IT UP, YOU GREASY BASTARD! MAKE ME COME! GOD, MAKE ME COME! YES! YES! YES!!" Harry howled, long and wordless, as the clinging muscle tightened one last time and he thrust his hips in helpless jerks, his vision going black and furry as the electric field burst and shorted out.
A loud pounding sounded on the wall behind him. "For god's sake, Harry, you don't have to tell me about it!" Sirius shouted, his voice muffled by layers of plaster and sheetrock and wallpaper.
Harry fell back, panting, too shagged out to care. His limp hands lay on Sev's hips as Sev jerked a few more times before his ride could peter out. He cried out, body bowing forward as thick spurts of white fluid spattered Harry's chest and stomach and chin. Absently, Harry stuck his tongue out and licked off what he could reach without significant effort. (All things told, it was a bit sticky and nasty if left to cool on its own.) Still tastes weird.
Sev collapsed against him, panting and making soft, raspy noises. Harry laid his hands on his maritus' back, stroking the smooth, damp skin and savouring the sensation of muscles and the relative distance of the ribs beneath. He found a smile on his face. "You're too damned good at that," he said, the smile widening.
Severus grunted. Harry almost could have sworn he heard a muttered, "Wait and see."
Harry's eyes cracked open to sunlight trying to find some breach in the curtains. Only a few photons managed to squeeze their way through at the edges of the heavy green fabric. Sev had, as ever, pulled him close and tucked him under his chin in the night. Harry lay there a moment, reveling in snuggled comfort. However, an insistent pressure deep in his bladder had other ideas.
He stretched as well as he could without getting untangled from Sev's arms. "Hey, you," he murmured.
One black eye opened. For a moment, it almost seemed to be focusing; however, within seconds it rolled back, closed, and stayed that way. Sev smacked his lips and muttered, "If he doesn't want me to turn the hose on him, tell him he oughtn't be a dog."
Harry sniggered. Planting a kiss on the beaky nose wheezing softly on each exhalation, he squirmed out of Sev's grasp and rolled over to stretch.
He didn't quite get that far.
The moment the smooth cotton sheets came in contact with the delicate surface of his morning erection, a small nuclear meltdown seemed to take place. It started in his penis and, much to his whimpering horror, spread out until his entire body seemed to have been engulfed by a very sore, very raw, very misused prick. He stared at the ceiling, gripping the duvet, trying not to move. This can't be mine. No, no, this is a nightmare. That's all it is. Yes. A horrible, horrible nightmare from which I'll awaken at any time.
Gingerly, Harry tossed aside the covers and, telling himself again it was, indeed, only a nightmare, staggered out of bed. He found Sev's dressing gown and tied it around his waist. It hung nearly to his ankles and flopped over his hands. The soft fabric, just starting to wear out (or break in, as Sev put it), snagged his swollen tip. Harry's eyes crossed, and he did the first thing to come to mind.
As the yelp faded, Harry heard another mutter behind him. "Well, of course I hit him with the paper! He was there!"
Somehow, it didn't help.
Severus limped into the bathroom door. It refused to budge. Reaching into his pocket - Harry's pocket - he fished out his wand. "Alohomora!"
The door flew open, slamming into the wall. He was met with a deafening, "OI!" and the very graphic image of Harry perched on the sink, frantically rubbing his cock. Severus arched an eyebrow, un-amused.
"What in Hell are you doing?" he demanded.
"Would you get in here and close the door?" Harry glowered at him, and went back to rubbing himself off.
Severus sniffed. He shut the door behind him, though, not bothering with a locking charm (it was, after all, both seven in the morning and a Sunday). "Insatiable, are we?"
"Not quite. What the fuck did you do to me?"
"Me? Might I remind you, you were the one to drop the lubricant?"
"Bitch, bitch, bitch." Harry growled. He groped on the edge of the sink behind him and came back with an open tin of Grandpa Claudius' All-Purpose Salve. Scooping out a healthy handful of the gunk, he spread it along his swollen and somewhat reddened shaft. "I can't even have a slash until this thing goes down, but it's not bloody well going down!"
"I feel for you. Truly, I do." Severus put a hand to his chest. He tried not to shift against the sensation of red-hot pokers being thrust into his most delicate aperture. "Now do you understand the meaning of the word 'payback'?"
"Go snog Sirius," Harry muttered.
Severus arched an eyebrow. He glanced at the tin and snorted. "All things told, using that cack almost qualifies as punishment enough. Almost."
"Well, y'know, it was either this or go all the way downstairs. Frankly, I don't feel like walking that far. Why didn't you tell me this was going to happen before you shagged me again?"
"I thought it might teach you a lesson!"
"Yeah, and you were too bloody randy to keep your head on straight. Not too uncommon, sounds like, if you can't even wait until after a match to get a proper shag! Greasy, oversexed bastard."
"One moment!" Severus pointed a finger at Harry. "I only said that to get in your pants. I have never in my life left a match for the sole purpose of wanking. Anyway," he growled, "that second round was your idea."
"Yeah, before the first one! You didn't have to take me up on it! Y'know, I'm holding back next time. I said you could have it if you were good, but this isn't good."
"You thought it was last night!"
"Shut up." Harry sneered. He held out the tin. "D'you want some or not?"
"Please. I could do better with sticks and mud."
"Well, then. You're perfectly welcome to walk downstairs and get some."
The very mention of stairs was enough to send another wash of napalm over the whimpering and much abused lining of Severus' lowermost alimentary canal. He blinked. With more than a hint of a sneer and no trace of thanks, he snatched the tin from Harry's hand. Scooping up a bit, he dropped his hand and started reaching down between his legs.
Harry was staring at him.
Severus glared. "Do you mind?"
Harry shrugged. "Sorry, not as if it's anything I've had to do."
"Not quite the same thing, now, is it? You barely go five minutes without plonker in hand, cheeky boy. This is a slightly more delicate situation we're talking about, here."
"Oh, right. You're the only bloke I've ever seen come from nothing but his own finger up his arse."
"I beg your pardon. That was a dire situation. I had little choice in the matter."
"Only 'cause I wanted to see if you could do it or not."
Severus snorted. He shot Harry a look. "Are you implying that you've tested this theory with other men?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "No. Never heard of anyone else doing it, though."
"Daft twit. Where d'you think I got the idea?" Severus muttered under his breath.
"I was asking if you mind." Severus tried reaching behind himself. Harry was still staring, though. Severus let his arm fall limp.
Harry pointed at the door separating toilet from bath. "You could always go in there."
"I'll do whatever I bloody well please wherever I please in my own house, thank you very much! Now, would you kindly look away so I might take care of your mess?"
"Geez, greasy..." Harry turned away, muttering.
Severus shot him one more glare for good measure, and once more set to contorting himself for the sake of his own body. However, Harry was still there. Every time Severus got close, his eyes would snap up and catch that messy clump of hair and those three damnable moles on the upper right side of Harry's back. Shoving away an urge to play connect-the-dots purely for annoyance's sake, he snarled and thrust the tin towards Harry. "You made this mess. You fix it."
"Me?" Harry glanced back over his shoulder.
"Why've I got to fix it? I've got my own troubles."
"Well. Perhaps it shall teach you a lesson about neglecting to tell me you've spilled the lubricant."
Harry shoved himself off the edge of the sink with a harsh sigh. "Fine, give it here and bend over. You could have at least offered to make a little more!"
"And what sort of potion do you expect me to brew in the middle of sex?" Severus leaned forward, grasping the edge of the sink in both hands. Cool air tickled his battered backside. He squirmed.
"Same sort you've brewed nearly every other time we've run out, mate." Harry reached around, tugged Severus' prick, and snatched the tin from the soap dish where Severus had dropped it.
"There wasn't time."
"There wasn't time to get yourself off."
Severus pursed his mouth. "It's a delicate balance," he muttered. "Go on, get on with it."
"Fine, fine. It's as much your fault as it is mine, but, oh, no, you had to have a gusher the old-fashioned way." Harry dropped the tin back into the soap dish, minus a healthy dose of salve. "This is probably going to be cold."
"You could warm it up."
"Yeah, and you could have jerked off." A splat of freezing goop squished against Severus' arsehole; he hissed through his teeth. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Harry muttered. "I ought to have put an icing charm on it first."
"Only if you want to sleep on the couch for the rest of your life. Don't skimp."
"Yes, your majesty."
Severus clutched the side of the sink, wincing as Harry dug his fingers into and around the screaming tissues. Fortunately, some of the overenthusiastic excuses for painkillers worked more or less immediately; Severus hissed in relief as the first layer of torment was washed away.
"Uh-huh. Better enjoy it while it lasts, mate. You're not getting any more for weeks after this one."
"You're assuming I would want any before then. Careful with the nails," Severus forced between his teeth. "Can you cut them for once instead of biting them into microscopic knives?"
"Well, excuse me, Mister 'They're Only Calluses'."
"At least that was a legitimate excuse."
"Bite me, Snape."
"You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you, Potter?"
"Just shut up and let me get on with it, all right? Christ, you're tight."
"That would be tissue inflammation."
"I knew that. What did you think I was going to think, that you're magically a virgin again?"
"Starting to wish I was."
Harry sighed. "Grow up," he muttered. "Greasy bastard."
Severus closed his eyes. As long seconds stretched into a handful of minutes, the pain eased. There was still a deep, taut throbbing in his backside, but the numbness that shrouded it was nearly as pleasant as post-orgasmic bliss. He dropped his head and sighed.
Harry chuckled. "Git."
Severus growled. He was too preoccupied with the delicious lack of sensation in his hindquarters to say anything else.
Harry made a small, amused noise. He licked his lips (which Severus saw in the mirror above the sink). "Y'know, it's been a few weeks since you had a go on top."
Severus glanced back. "What about the weeks of celibacy you're planning to enforce?"
Harry shrugged. "Have to have something to tide me over."
Severus snorted. Shaking his head, he went back to staring into the sink. "You're incorrigible."
"So're you." Harry pressed closer. His stiff - but temporarily out of service - cock came to rest against Severus' backside, his free hand sliding over slight bumps of spine. "Well? Fancy a go later? One for the stretch?"
Severus was just opening his mouth to answer when a tiny click made him stiffen. Before he could react, however, the door burst open. He snapped his head up and found himself staring straight at Sirius Black.
Black took a step inside and jerked to a quivering halt. Over a period of several seconds, his eyes went through a series of squinting, blinking, and finally fixing wide and horrified like a man getting a glimpse of his ultimate Hell. Severus stared back. He couldn't quite move to hex the mongrel; behind him, Harry had gone stiff, frozen in place, his hand still in perhaps the most incriminating of all possible spots. The finger inside Severus twitched once, and fell still.
Black's swallow seemed to echo on the red and yellow tiles. The blood had long since drained from his skin (most of which was quite visible, as the man was clad in nothing more than a fraying pair of Y-fronts). Motioning behind him, he mumbled, "I... I'll just go find a tree or something, then?"
Severus nodded once. Harry squeaked.
Only when the door had once again latched shut, and a hastily muttered locking charm sounded through the wood, did Severus drop his face to the sink again. Harry was still frozen behind him, still staring at the door. Severus glanced up at the mirror in time to see his jaw drop open. A small, strangled noise filled the room.
Severus sighed. "You could have at least bothered to lock the door," he muttered.
"Uh-huh," Harry said.
Somehow, Severus suspected that wasn't going to be the last he heard on the matter.
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