They needed a shag, okay?

This is my response to Telanu's increasingly-infamous First Line Challenge. It takes place between "Home Fires" and "In The Doghouse" (much closer to ITD - two days before on July 4, 1998). This has no socially redeeming value whatsoever. Smut, witty repartee, and semi-coherent Harry abound. Oh, and the incident was mentioned in CW, so it's not completely out of the blue. *grin*

Getting on with it already.

Second Opinion

By Sushi


"We need to have sex right now."

Harry jumped and dropped his book. He straightened his glasses. "Come again?"

Sev raised an eyebrow. "Would you rather wait until Poppy gets back? I don't think she'd be amused to see you taking advantage of one of her patients in such a perverse and carnal manner."

"Uh... right now?" Sev's pointed smirk drove in what he'd just said. Harry had no real objections; it was all just a bit... sudden. Though it had been nearly a month. At his age, that was forever. But Severus was just shy of forty. He couldn't possibly... oh. Harry's gaze had drifted down. The blue hospital wing blanket had grown a rather telling, erm, appendage. Sev looked innocent.

Harry launched.

The bed bounced and creaked when he landed on it. In approximately point-three seconds his fingers were thoroughly tangled in long, black hair, his tongue was trying to knot itself around Severus' (which had a similar goal), and that protrusion was pressed firmly against his groin. "Shouldn't," smack, "I go... mmph," smack, smack, "lock the-?" His eyes crossed and he moaned rather more loudly than expected when Sev's lips attached themselves to the side of his neck. "Oh, god, don't you dare stop-oh, Severus..." he trailed off in a hiss at the sharp sucking sensation.

"Get this thing off." Long fingers started working at the buttons along his spine. Harry tried hurriedly to help but only succeeded in getting tangled up. Sev slapped his hands away. "Do I have to pin you down?" Harry grinned. Sev didn't look amused. "Just for that, I get to be on top." Harry squeaked as he found himself hopelessly wrapped in blankets, pinned beneath eleven stone of randy Potions master. Sev chuckled before he caught himself. He sniffed. "I'm afraid my tastes don't run to exercise wheels."

"I'm not a guinea pig!" Harry chittered a long trail of squeaks as Sev slowly, slowly ground against him through far too many layers of cloth.

"I think I've proven my point." The buttons were quickly dispatched and Harry felt his robes being tugged over his head. Unfortunately, they got caught in the blankets halfway off. Sev cursed. He groped around, trying to find where they'd gotten knotted. It was rather dark in the black cloth - even the bright morning had trouble getting through. Harry giggled while Severus growled. An anxious hand crawled between them, clutching for the tangle, and closed itself around something else entirely.

Harry nearly screamed. It came out more like, "Aaaaaaaahhhh... ohmygoddon'tyoudarestopyouviciousgreasybastard." He didn't. Soon, Sev worked his hand through the mess of fabric. Harry moaned when it reached into his pants and wrapped around heated flesh. With a deft twist of the wrist, his Y-fronts slid down a bit more. He whimpered as the waistband latched behind his testicles. A few dark hairs were still caught in the elastic but, rather than distract him, the cruel pinprick pains focused his attention.

"Some might almost think you were enjoying yourself." Sev's fingers rippled; Harry responded with a long, low moan. His arms were hopelessly tangled above him. He struggled to free them. A squawk of outrage echoed through the bright room as Sev jerked him upright with both hands and yanked the robe over his head. Before he could protest, lips found his. In the frantic, fevered kisses he thought he felt the low rumble of an apology. Severus pulled him into his lap. Harry's exposed bits ground against an equally excited set and he arched.

"Oh, my god. Oh, god, s'been too long," he moaned. His eyes crossed; at least, he didn't remember Severus having two noses and three eyes.

"I quite agree." Sev skinned out of his nightshirt (the only thing he was wearing, much to Harry's approval); he leaned forward and took a pink, pointed nipple in his mouth. Harry whimpered and pressed it hard against him. His fingers tightened on Severus' back. "Shall we take this slowly, or shall we simply skip the formalities and rut like minks?" The words vibrated through piano wire nerves.

"Minks," Harry gasped. Sev bucked his hips and the resultant squeak must have been audible in Hogsmeade.

"Strange, I didn't know minks were related to guinea pigs."

"Will you stop it with the guinea pigs alrea-? Oh, god, please, Sev, don't stop..."

Severus grinned wickedly. Long, slender fingers massaged the fleshy place behind Harry's scrotum. An eruptive tickling sensation skidded from his hips to his sternum. He dropped his head in the crook of Sev's neck. Skin muffled his yowl. Not quite in control of his own movements, he clamped his teeth atop a thin shoulder.

Sev screeched. Before he knew what was happening, Harry was thrown back against the pillows. Severus' eyes were bugged. He panted violently, the hand that had teased Harry so mercilessly clutching the bitten flesh. He looked utterly terrified. "What's wrong?"

Sev stared for a moment. He swallowed hard. "Nothing." It came out reedy and strangled. "Just a... a touch painful." He moved enough to peel back the covers and settled there, next to Harry, arms so tight around him Harry felt like he'd been body bound. A small, pinkish hand lifted to stroke the odd streak of white starting to fill Severus' widow's peak.

"Are you sure?" Sev nodded quickly. "Need me to get you anything?" He shook his head. Harry lowered his voice. "Want to stop?"

"Never, you obnoxious brat." A sallow hand tangled itself in untamable black hair and pulled Harry in for a long kiss. He trailed his own fingers up and down Sev's bumpy spine. "Never," Severus whispered again between a panting breath and a touch of lips that made Harry feel like an anchor into sanity. "Never... never..."

"Never." Harry closed his eyes. Severus' erection regained the stiffness it had lost and dug into Harry's thigh. Open mouths and hard, harsh breaths and seeking hands and tangled legs and skin and heat and the rich musky smell still tinged with bitter chemicals flooded his brain and permeated his pores. Sev shifted to kneel and in a moment Harry's pants landed on another bed. He moaned at the long-missed intensity of that bony body as it tried to engulf him. So thin, so fragile, so safe. He murmured against a worshipful tongue, "I love you."

Sev's breath hitched. He pulled back. His staring eyes were frozen open, the corners of his mouth jerked down, the lines around it deep with shock. When he finally blinked he did so rapidly, twice. Harry tilted his chin defiantly at the dumb disbelief. Muscle twitched beneath his palms. When Severus looked away it was to bury his face in the side of Harry's neck. He kissed it, moist, firm lips clinging to the skin a moment and breaking free. "I don't suppose you thought to bring the bottle with you."

"Why would I do that?" He'd not expected to hear reciprocation - didn't need to, he already knew. "Shagging's not the first thing that comes to mind when I think about the hospital wing."

"Hmm. Perhaps we ought to change that." Severus nuzzled tingling skin. One of his hands was splayed on Harry's back, the other draped over the lean slope of waist spreading into hip. "We'll have to improvise." Harry whined when the hand on his waist wrapped around his cock and rode it in smooth, building strokes. Sev caught his mouth and kissed him softly to catch the sound as well.

The cool hand warmed quickly. Harry shuddered, moaning. A long fuse was lit at the top of his spine and it burned, sparking and arcing, a little more quickly with each stroke. "Sev..." he groaned... "Oh, god, my Sev... please, please, please don't stop... please, please, please don't-oh, god, don't stop..."

Black eyes bored into him, wide and determined. Severus pulled back enough to let Harry breathe. The long hand on his back clutched and released over and over, kneading with every stilted twitch of Sev's thin hips. Hard restraint showed in his rigid mouth, and in the fast rise and fall of his chest. Suddenly, he grasped the back of Harry's skull and pushed their mouths together. Bittersweet perfection roared through nerves ready to break. The fuse jumped; Harry howled as the tickling clamped down and shattered in a thousand shards of sensation.

He felt himself being pressed gently down by Severus' weight. Sev knelt between his legs, stretched out, still cradling the back of his head. Endorphins leeched too much strength to pay attention as stray drops of thick, white goo were gathered from their bellies. He had the vague feeling it had only taken a minute. No great shock, really. He'd been denied touch for too long; the idea of being denied Sev's hands, his lips, his body ever again was crippling.

"Are you ready?" The words were soft, but steeled in a distant sort of way. Harry nodded as well as he could. His glasses were skewed. "I want to hear you say it."

"M'ready," he mumbled.

"You're certain you still want the greasy Potions master?"

Harry blinked. He managed to focus and saw unparalleled fear flickering deep within those shrouded eyes. Still weak, he leaned forward and kissed thin lips, tracing a hollow cheek with his fingertips. "'Course I do, you greasy bastard. Do you think I've been living up here just to catch up on my reading?"

His answer came in the form of a wet finger pressing against him. He whimpered; it slid inside, and he moaned. Sev eased him back on the bed. Much more quickly than usual (perhaps due to the fact Madam Pomfrey could be back any second), it was joined by a second, then a third. Semen wasn't remotely as slick as the straw-coloured liquid in the cut glass bottle, but somehow the added friction was grounding. It was impossible to miss the fact that his Sev was with him, his Sev was inside him again after far longer than he wanted to think about. A slight burning sensation built up between the rings of muscle. He pressed for more.

Severus pulled his hand away. Harry shivered, empty. "Please?" he murmured. Glancing down, he saw the seed-slicked hand wrap around Sev's member. It triggered a feeling like fur in his pelvis and coaxed blood into his own recovering cock. An involuntary smile took his face.

"Since you asked nicely, I suppose I'll have to." It was little more than a whisper. Tenderness saturated that deep voice like night air. Hermione was right, you know. You've gone and fallen in love with Snape. The thought didn't bother him. Not that it should have in the first place.

Harry's gasp was met with Sev's low hiss of absolution. A slow burn filled him, familiar and heavy and sorely missed. Harry moaned loudly, and a long hand fiercely petted the hair back from his face. Black eyes met his; they were stern with concentration, feral with lust and something else. Harry tried to open his mouth to speak, but he couldn't find anything more eloquent than a simple, guttural "Ohh..."

Sev kissed him. Harry tried to press him to go slowly, but hormones took over and he ground his arse against Severus' pelvis, legs locking tight around slim hips. He was met with little resistance, and yowled when Sev pulled up to his knees, prick bumping the little spot just inside that Harry'd not known existed before April. The new angle, with Severus leaning forward on his elbows and the lower half of Harry's body hoisted into the air, sent the little blood not trapped in Harry's prick into his brain. Dizziness trickled down from the top of his head. Between the burning in his body and the reeling in his skull it was little more than a minute before he jerked, arched hard, and screamed at the crash of beauty filing through every nerve.

Sev kissed him feverishly. A growl had started in his larynx. "Obnoxious... brat... god..." he groaned. Harry wallowed in the weight on his chest, the weight in his body, the half-awake sensation in his head. Sev's moans came rapidly, loudly, interspersed with cries of, "Oh, god," and "Harry..." His black eyes closed, teeth trying to find his lip but losing it to heavy, groaning breaths. Suddenly, he thrust deep and stiffened. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


Harry glanced around fuzzily. It only took an instant to realise where the panicked echo came from. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

When the last of the screams died, Poppy stood, eyes coin-round and back straight, clutching a lunch tray in her shaking, white-knuckled hands. The covered dishes clinked. Severus, still on his knees but otherwise boneless across Harry's rapid chest, weakly rolled his head. "Ah, Poppy," he panted. "Yes, I do believe sustenance is in order."

Twenty minutes later he was home.

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