Hero Worship, Part 18 of 25

[ravenna_c_tan]

Title: Hero Worship, Part 18/25
Author: Ravenna C. Tan
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Snape
Word Count: 36,901 total, 1672 this part
Disclaimer: This is non-commercial fanfiction. Trademarked characters are used for non-commercial purposes.
Beta: miraba, jordangrant
Author's Note: A gift for regan_v, as a request she made about submissive!snape brought this on.
Warnings: A touch of BDSM/power exchange sex.
Archive: Part of the From Dusk till Dawn Severus Snape/Harry Potter Fuh-Q-Fest at http://www.kardasi.com/HPSS/storyindex.htm (The Fest was due to begin Nov. 10th--now pushed back 1 month, but authors may post in their own journals).
Challenge/Summary: "What if...?" What if Snape did not escape at the end of Half-Blood Prince? What if Kingsley Shacklebolt caught him before he could Apparate away? Not trusted by the Order, but still determined to bring down Voldemort, Snape agrees to undergo an unusual spell.
Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen




Hero Worship, Chapter Eighteen
by Ravenna C. Tan



That night I dream of Evan. In my dream he has Silenced me, a sure sign that he is going to do something terrible and wonderful to me that he does not want my dorm mates to hear. The curtains are drawn on my bed, and it is completely dark, yet I know it is him. I know the taste of his magic in my mouth, keeping me quiet. I know the feel of his hands, stripping me bare and touching me places that no one has touched me, not in that way, ever. Though a part of my brain is reminding me this is no longer the case, in my dream I am fifteen again and still innocent of any touch but his.

Please, Evan, I'm trying to say. I'm trying to explain to him what has happened with Potter, how confusing it is, how I've pledged myself to him and yet I am resisting him more than ever. How dismayed I am that he wants me. But the Silencing Charm muffles not only my cries of pain and ecstasy, but my words as well.

I wake with a sudden gasp, my own breath loud in my ears, after the silence of the dream, to find I am on my stomach, my arms crushing a pillow beneath me, and my erection trapped between my stomach and the mattress.

Potter is sitting there, in a chair by the bedside, looking calm. "I didn't want to wake you," he says. "But it seems you woke yourself."

I sag against the pillow. "Please, Potter, I..." My words disappear into the Silencing Charm he casts and I clench the pillow to me. Does he know? Or is it just a coincidence?

"Roll over," he says, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. He pushes at my hip and I oblige, my nightshirt sticking to me, damp with sweat. "We'll discuss things later. For now, my terms, my way, okay?"

I nod and he begins to stroke me. The feel of his hand is starting to be familiar, a thought that both thrills and terrifies me.

Especially when this time it seems he teases me. Rather than speeding me toward orgasm as quickly as possible, he backs off and lets me plateau several times before driving my arousal higher and higher. The Silencing Charm makes my moans and whimpers unheard. I am covered in sweat as my body strains, wanting the release, but at his mercy. He Summons his wand from the robes laid over the chair and whispers a word--his hand is now as slick as when it was coated with Slippery Elm, only warm and tingling.

He is teasing me, and he has taken away my voice so I cannot beg for release. I suffer. Sublimely, yes, but it is suffering nonetheless. I do not know another word for it. I suffer his touch. Time has ceased to have meaning, but it goes on a long time, my cock in one of his hands, his wand in the other. There is no hurry in him. He truly seems as if he could to this all day and another night.

I am grateful for the lubrication, for without it I would surely be chafed beyond repair.

"Snape," he says. "Look at me."

I look into his eyes.

"Are you holding back? Don't you want to come?"

I am shaking my head no and nodding at the same time. Rational thought, scheming, priorities, all have been pushed to the far corners of my mind and replaced by the immense need to come. Even my shame and horror at being reduced to such a state is a mere pinprick at the back of my mind. I beg shamelessly with my eyes.

"Well, come on then," he coaxes, changing the pressure of his hand, his motion, suddenly in tune with my internal rhythm. "Come on, now."

He speeds up once more and then I am coming, hard does not begin to describe it, coming like all the blood pooled in my feet is being sucked up through my circulatory system and spat out my cock--like all the blood in my brain as well.

Damn him. I realize my mistake as the blankness hits, as the moment of loss comes... and he slips in, those green eyes suddenly becoming my whole world as his mind invades mine.

And then it is gone, the invasion, the Silencing charm, the desperation in my gut, everything all at once. I fall back limp, my eyes closed, unable to move. I should have known this was coming. I could not have prevented it. I could not have played my cards any differently.

He knows everything now.

I feel the tingle of him cleaning me magically and then the shift in weight as he climbs off the bed.

"Potter," I say.

"You owe me an apology," he says, his back to me.

I open my eyes and see him standing stiffly, wand-in-fist, looking over his shoulder at me.

"An apology?" Just because he knows my secrets now is no reason for me to say so. "Pray tell me why."

He huffs in frustration, and then sits in the chair, his trousers obviously tented. "For jerking me around."

"Indeed. I hadn't realized that doing so was now Unforgivable."

His anger flares. "Why? Why do you do it? Why did you have to know? Why do you keep trying to hide things from me?"

"Is it not obvious to you, Potter? Thanks to Argus and the Order, you hold the power. That galls me. I push back however I can."

He frowns. "That's the truth, isn't it."

"Yes." I sit up and cross my legs, pulling some of the bed sheets over my lap.

"But you agreed to the terms willingly. Why fight it? I thought you wanted to regain your self-control."

He learns fast. "Yes, that is true."

"So then, every time you defy me, it's really yourself you're fighting, isn't it?"

"Yes." So, he has untangled the threads enough to see that pattern. Bully for him. Just because I see it, too, does not mean I can refrain from doing it, however. "May I ask you a question now?"

"I suppose." He looks at me curiously.

"I want to know the origin of your... fantasy."

He huffs again, but feels compelled to tell the truth because I did. Gryffindors. "It's really not that complicated, Snape," he says testily, though he reddens as he does. "You're the only person who's--I mean, I've never come with anyone else but you... so why wouldn't it be you I thought about?"

He means that first time, that night he appeared here and after making me come, he finished himself off as well. I have no spell to assure me that he is not lying to me. I have only my instincts and my usual ways of dealing with him. "Surely you jest. Ginevra Weasley never once polished your broom handle?"

"I--! No!" He seems on the verge of hexing me, then calms himself. "We were only together a few weeks, and it was... nice. But other than a little kissing and hand-holding down by the lake, well, you know."

So, another way in which Potter the Younger did not take after his sire. I contemplate that a moment.

"Snape," he says, as he puts all the pieces together. "If you really, really didn't want me to... ever touch you again, you know I wouldn't. But did you think I forgot you agreed to the terms? Did you think I forgot the lesson that Evan taught you, that you had to do it of your own free will or you'd resent me forever?"

He stands and my heart begins to beat louder in my chest. I want to tell him that what I resent is that he doesn't understand. He'll let me kneel at his feet, but not touch him. Then I remember he's just been in my head.

He knows. Surely he knows.

"This isn't about Argus," he says as he begins to pace. "This is about you and me and rules. Our rules."

"And you've been such an adherent of rules in your life? You know as well as I, that rules do not cover every circumstance."

He stops pacing and stares at me, the glare on his glasses keeping me from seeing the intense green of his eyes. Then he comes forward, climbs onto the bed.

He presses me back until I am lying flat and he hangs over me, his fringe tickling my forehead and his robes covering me. "Do you remember the rules, Snape? Let me say them again. You don't think about what you need to do or say, not when it comes to the others, and not when it comes to this." He makes the meaning of this clear by brushing his lips over mine. I think he intends to go on, to state the other terms, but that little taste of each other is too much. In the next moment, he crushes his mouth to mine. My fingers bury themselves in his hair and I swallow his passion.

A voice tells me he is a hormonal teenager, probably not even homosexual, who has fixated on me because of Argus, and this is why he is stripping out of his trousers and pressing his erection against my hip. I tell that voice to shut up. He makes the decisions. We have agreed on it. He rubs his cock into the crease between my torso and my leg, and I wrap my arms around his back, helping to increase the friction.

He comes, shaking and swearing in my arms, his eyes closed tight for a moment and then wide open, staring into mine, as the last spurts of his come fountain across my belly. Yes, I could peer widely into him at that moment, but I do not. He has shown me all I need to know for now.

--

[Go on to chapter nineteen.]