This is so incredibly NC-17 it's not funny. I'm not kidding. Contains
very rough sex and about five different fetishes. Not to mention loads
of bad language. If you click, it means you're old enough to read it
and you're not going to yell at me.
Er, on second
thought, I don't really want to read this.
on the pr0n!
Harry Potter and the Hillbilly Mafia
Chapter 23: This is It
Harry awoke in Aidan's arms, pleasantly contented despite the fact that
his back was sore from spending the night on the couch. He snuggled
deeper into the warmth of the other man, wrapping the arm that he could
actually move tightly around Aidan's chest. Those kisses last night--
they'd been what he'd expected all his life. That had been
he realised why he'd woken up-- someone was pounding on the door. He
carefully disentangled himself so as not to wake Aidan, and went to
answer it, prepared to be quite annoyed with whomever it was. It was
five in the morning, for fuck's sake. He didn't even have to be
anywhere for the next three hours. He opened the door, and all the
snarky abuse he had prepared left his mind, melting into disbelief and
"Abby?" he said. Yes, the woman at his door was
most definitely Abby, the librarian he'd met his first day in town over
a year ago. But why was she dressed in wizard's robes-- Auror's
robes-- and who was that man with her? What the hell was going on here?
it's me," she said with a half-grin. "Long time no see. I'm afraid I
lied to you, Julian, I'm not a librarian. I'm with the Magical Bureau
"Shhhh!" Harry exclaimed. "I've got company.
Muggle company." He didn't even bother questioning what the Magical
Bureau of Investigation was doing here, because he felt as though he
sort of knew. Thank you, Rita Skeeter. Stupid bint, for all the
times she'd cried wolf, this had to be the one time there actually was
"May we come in?" Abby asked.
"I just told you, I've got company. What's he going to think when he
sees two people in bloody purple robes?"
robes are charmed to appear as normal clothing to Muggles." Harry
wondered dimly why no one back in Britain had thought of such a thing.
It would have saved a great many memory charms. "We really must speak
to you immediately."
Harry sighed. "Fine, we can talk in the
kitchen. But it'll have to be quick, and it'll have to be quiet. No
silencing charms. If my guest wakes up he'll wonder why he can see us
but can't hear anything."
"There's a charm for that too," Abby's
partner said helpfully. "If he wakes up, he'll hear us, but it'll all
go in one ear and right out the other. Sort of like a distraction charm
and a memory charm combined. Don't the British Aurors use those?"
Harry shook his head and ushered his very unwelcome guests into the
"Julian Jameson, this is my partner, Elijah Griffin," Abby said,
gesturing to the man, who nodded a greeting at him.
"All right," Harry said. "What is it you're here about? Please don’t
say Death Eaters in the mafia."
Abby squinted at him. "Well, yes, actually, that's precisely what we're
here about. How did you know?"
"Daily Prophet article. The British wizarding newspaper," he
explained further when they looked a bit confused.
"Oh, that." Abby said, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "We weren't
aware that anyone here had actually read it."
"You know about the article?"
course we know about it. We leaked that information on purpose. Ever
since Harry Potter disappeared, the British Ministry has been pestering
us out of every department. We had to tell them something."
"Why not that you just don't know where he is?" Harry asked. He really
had a terrible feeling about this.
think they'd believe that?" Abby said. "They know the MBI is much more
magically advanced than they are, and they know we've hidden things
from them before. Did you know that John F. Kennedy was assassinated by
"Oh, he was not," Harry said.
He'd seen a History Channel special on the subject a few months back.
do you explain the entry angle of the bullet, then?" said Abby. "There
was no second gunman, and there was no grassy knoll. Lee Harvey Oswald
shot J.F.K. with a magical bullet," she said smugly.
Harry just gaped disbelievingly for a moment.
you see," Abby said, "they found out about that twenty years after the
fact in the first round of Death Eater trials, and haven't trusted us
since. But I digress. We have irrefutable evidence that there are Death
Eaters tied in with the Castellano crime family. On the subject of
magical bullets, what do you think Eddie Castellano was shot with? Why
do you think there was so little blood? At that angle and range with a
Muggle gun, your wallpaper would have been covered in the contents of
his chest cavity." Her gruesome description bordered on gleeful.
"Wait, who?" Harry asked, managing to get over the initial shock of
having history refuted. Muggle guns? Did that mean there were
wizarding guns? Why couldn't his life just bloody well be normal?
"Eddie Castellano. The man who was shot in your restaurant."
do you know about that? The FBI didn't even know about that!" Harry
exclaimed, knowing he was probably about to wish he hadn't asked.
"One of your employees works for our office," said Griffin. It seemed
to be his job to supply the annoying little details.
It had to be Camille, his head waitress. There was no way it could be
anyone else. That knowing grin she gave him sometimes-- he'd thought it
was just the usual unrequited attraction, but in this light, it took on
a whole new meaning. Or was it the young woman who'd been waiting on
Gabanella's party the night Eddie Castellano was shot? But no, she'd
quit shortly thereafter to pursue some music career. It had to be
"We can't tell you that, sorry. Really, you already know too much,"
said Abby. "But we need your help with this, unfortunately."
Harry snorted. "You'd tell me, but you'd have to kill me. Right. And my
help? What on earth could I possibly do for you?"
"We need to bug your restaurant," Abby said.
"It's already bugged," Harry said waving his hand dismissively. "Go ask
the FBI about it."
bug like that," Abby said. "I'm talking real bugs here. Insects. Well,
animagi insects, anyway. Not just to listen. We're ready to make
Like Rita Skeeter. If he'd known back in his fourth
year that so many things in his life would end up relating back to her,
he'd have squashed her a long time ago. "No!" Harry exclaimed. "For one
thing, I'll lose business from the insects alone! For another, you're
going to have to memory charm every fucking country music singer in
town if you're going to have insects transforming into Aurors and
arresting Death Eaters in the middle of the fucking dinner rush! Not to
mention the property damage! There's no way you're doing it, not on my
property! You can make your arrests outside on the pavement, but not
inside the walls of any building I own!"
Agent Griffin spoke up
to offer another helpful tidbit. "We don't actually need your
permission," he said. "We've had the warrant for three weeks. We were
only trying to be polite," he said, with a sickening sort of smile.
Abby unsettled him and made him angry, but Griffin, he just plain hated
"Well thank you for the bloody politeness!" Harry
exclaimed. "Go on, then, do it, but my face and my name stay out of it,
and it goes on record that I didn't give you permission. If so much as
my first initial and a photo of my little finger turn up in any media,
wizard, Muggle, bloody fucking … troll, or otherwise, I swear to god,
I know people who can make you wish you'd never been born!" He was
thinking of Snape here, of course. It was a completely unbidden
thought. The words had come before the image had. Not that he thought
Snape would come to his aid, but Snape was most certainly capable of
making them wish they'd never been born. He'd certainly done it to
Harry enough times.
The worst look Harry had ever seen in his
life came over agent Griffin's face, somewhere between saccharine and
acid, laced with the worst sort of poison. "It really won't do to
threaten us," he said. "Isn't it funny," he went on, twirling his wand
between his fingers, "that Julian Jameson's appearance in the United
States of America coincides almost to the day with Harry Potter's
complete disappearance from the United Kingdom? How curious, how
bizarre and strange. What a coincidence, wouldn't you say so, Abby?"
Abby nodded, but at least had the decency to look at Harry
Harry went pale. He felt sure he was going to throw up right there.
They knew. They fucking knew, and probably had all along.
you know?" Griffin continued. "There were, after all, magical
investigation agencies searching the world over for you. So really,
we'd strongly suggest you co-operate with us. Thus far, no one outside
our office knows who you are. But that could change."
"Are you blackmailing me?" Of course they were bloody well blackmailing
"In a word? Yes," said Griffin.
Harry said, "I'll help you. But if you so much as hint at what you've
just said to me ever again, I'm not responsible for what happens next,"
he said in a low, dangerous whisper. The sound of his voice frightened
him, but didn't seem to have much effect on Griffin.
that really isn't very nice." Griffin reminded him eerily of Voldemort
just now. "Even though you're not being nice, we will be. We'll keep
you out of it, at least until the Death Eaters are captured, and then
we'll see what happens. We'll be in touch," said Griffin with a coy
little wave, and they both Apparated out of the kitchen.
lay silently on the couch, trying to feign sleep while listening to the
conversation that was occurring in the kitchen. He'd known about the
Kennedy assassination, of course, but the rest was news to him. Bloody
hell, what had Harry got himself into? He risked a glance over the arm
of the sofa, and sure enough, the argument Harry was having was with
two people in Aurors' robes. Well, at least he knew for certain now
this was Harry Potter he was dealing with.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck,
fuck. How could he have been so bloody stupid? Oh shit, Aidan.
Hopefully the Aurors' stupid charm had worked. He'd never heard of any
such thing, and found the believability of such an idea quite dubious.
went back into the living room, where Aidan was looking up at him
blearily from the couch.
"Er, sorry about that," he said,
really hoping Aidan hadn't noticed that the "guests" hadn't actually
through the front door. "I hope it didn't wake you up."
"Well, no, you woke me up when you got off the couch," said Aidan.
"How much did you hear?" Harry asked apprehensively. He wasn't entirely
sure he wanted to know.
and pieces," Aidan said sitting up. "I wasn't quite awake for all of
it, except for the shouting. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I'm sorry. I
really should have left."
"No, it's all right. But I suppose
you'd probably like an explanation or thirty." Harry sighed. Well,
whether or not the charm had worked, this was probably the end. He'd
made an arse of himself last night, and now he had either Aurors or
business colleagues turning up at five in the morning. More than enough
to put off any potential lover.
"First I owe you one," said Aidan. "I'm a wizard."
felt even sicker than he already did. Or was that relief? He couldn't
tell. All he knew was that he didn't feel very well at all. He
desperately wanted to sit down, but was afraid Aidan might not like
that, so he leaned on the doorframe for support. "You… are?"
But I didn't have any idea that you were until now. I suspected it when
you mentioned having a teacher named Snape, of course, but it could
been a coincidence, so I let it be. I didn't honestly think it was
going to be an issue that would come up. And after all, if you'd turned
out to be a Muggle, I certainly wouldn't have told you."
really, how much did you hear, then?" Harry said, fighting the urge to
rip his hair out. This was just not on at all. Life was not fucking
fair. Great, Aidan knew Snape, and quite likely knew that Julian
Jameson was actually Harry Potter, and he was quite likely fucked. "I
need to know
what you know."
Snape felt terrible, lying this way, but he couldn't
let Harry know that he knew his true identity. "As I said, bits and
pieces. About the mafia and the Death Eaters, but I'd sort of heard
about that. And that they're blackmailing you, but what about I don't
know, and something about insect animagi. That was one of the parts I
Harry tried very hard not to look visibly
relieved. "Right, then. I can't tell you everything, of course, and if
you never want to see me again because of what I can tell you, I
understand." He took a
deep breath. "My name isn't Julian Jameson, and I don't actually look
like this--" And good lord, why was he telling him all of this? He
really didn't need to know, but he felt that he owed it to Aidan to
tell him something after what he'd heard, because he really did
want Aidan to trust him, because after those kisses last night, he
couldn't bear not to have more of them. He suddenly felt that he'd do
almost anything to keep this man from hating him forever. "I left
England not because of an accident like I said, which you probably knew
was a lie from the outset, and I'm sorry about that, but it couldn't be
helped-- I thought you were a Muggle. I left after Voldemort was
defeated because every last one of my friends had been killed by him.
Wait a minute," Harry said, just now processing something Aidan had
said a moment ago-- "you know Professor Snape?
have been a perfect time, of course, to say, 'I am professor Snape,'
but that really couldn't happen just now. Snape knew that if he said
that, Harry would put two and two together and run screaming out of
there, if for no other reason than the realisation that he'd been
kissing his greasy git Potions professor. "I know him," he said. "Not
well, though." There, now, that wasn't too much of a lie. After all, he
sometimes really did feel that he didn't know himself very well,
especially after all that had come about in the past few days. "But
really, that's neither here nor there. I suppose you can't tell me your
"No, I'm afraid not," Harry said. "There are…
well, there are some people looking for me, and if I take these
glamours off, my magical signature will most certainly be traced."
"Why are they looking for you?"
don't really understand it myself," Harry said. "They just are. That
bastard, Griffin, just confirmed it. At this point I really don't care
if they find me, but I very much care about the trouble I could get
into with the Muggle authorities for this impersonation, and worse, the
newspapers will have a field day, and I'll never have a moment's peace.
Not that my life's been anywhere near as peaceful as I thought it would
be here, what with the bloody mafia and all. Anyway, that’s the whole
story, well, not the whole story, but as much of the story as I can
tell you. I understand if you'd like to leave now."
the last thing on Severus's mind. "Julian," he said, pulling Harry onto
the couch next to him. "Ah… you don't mind being called Julian, do you?
I don't know what else to call you."
"No Julian is fine," Harry said. "I'm used to it. I rather wonder if
I'm ever going to be able to answer to my real name again."
well, anyway," Severus said. "No, I don't want to leave, I'm not angry
with you, and I don't hate you. I understand why you haven’t told me
the whole truth, but I'm glad you’ve told me as much of the truth as
you have. And, well, I should probably tell you that I don't look like
this either. There are legal complications with my travelling that
required me to borrow a passport from someone else." All right, well,
that was a lie. But he was still on a Ministry blacklist as far as he
knew, and they probably would have been alerted if he'd left the
country under his own name. Not that it was illegal for him to leave
the country, but they would have been alerted. Yes, that was a
"I stole my cousin's and altered it," Harry volunteered.
we are really both in similar situations," Severus said. "I wish I
could tell you more, but I can't. The reason I'm in this country has
nothing to do with what I told you before, and I'm afraid I can't tell
you at all."
"I understand," Harry said. "Don't suppose you can
take your glamour off either?" The hopefulness in his voice was so
endearing that Severus felt like crying. He felt like crying even more,
though, when he thought of what Harry's reaction would be if he did
take the glamour off.
"No, I can't," he said. "Even if I thought
it was a good idea, no one but the person who put the glamour on me can
remove it, and I'm not the one who put it on." Damned werewolf.
was more than a little stunned at Aidan's revelation, and rather
wondered if Aidan was actually someone looking for Harry Potter. But
no, he'd have revealed it if that had been the case. Harry felt sure of
it. He trusted Aidan, and trusted him because of the simple fact that
he'd readily admitted to having to lie to him. A far cry from Nick. Who
knew what other lies Nick had told? Harry really didn't even want to
think about it. He was sure more of them would be coming to light soon
,and he'd just deal with it when it came. "Just... please tell me that
night had nothing to do with why you're in the country," he said. Please
tell me those kisses weren't a lie, please tell me that was real, and
oh god for fuck's sake, please tell me that they won't stop when you
have to become yourself again…
By way of response, Aidan
pulled him close and kissed him, and it was every bit as perfect as it
had been the night before. Better, even, because he was kissing him
with an almost clear conscience. As close to clear as it had a chance
of getting, anyway. Yes, they were both aware of the
illusion, but Harry felt that they both knew that the way this felt was
no part of the ruse. Harry moaned, still kissing Aidan, and crawled
into his lap. One strong hand was on the back of his head, stroking his
hair, and the other was lightly grazing fingernails over his back
underneath his shirt, making him shiver.
Severus yet again gave
in to the abandon of kissing Harry, holding onto him for dear life, and
their contact was literally magical this time. He could feel the
whisper of both their powers mingling between them -- it was almost
palpable, and he wondered if the air was full of sparks.
god, I can feel your magic," Harry breathed, only breaking their kiss
long enough to get those words out. It had never been like this with
anyone. When he'd said he wanted magical kisses this wasn't quite what
he'd had in mind, but it was better than he had ever hoped. This was
exquisite, it was heaven, it was… oh god he thought his heart
and his mind and his cock were all going to explode from it. He almost
felt that he could burst into blossom if he tried, and he couldn't get
close enough to this man, wanted to be inside him in every sense of the
word, wanted them to be inside each other, wanted to crawl inside of
him and take his soul in his arms. This had to be more than lust. He
didn't know what it was -- he wanted to call it love, but it was so
soon, and love seemed that it was really the wrong word for it. This
was like some violent chemical reaction. He didn't know love anyway,
and he wasn't sure this was it, but call it what he would, he'd never
felt so good in his life.
Severus had no words for what was
happening, not even in his mind could he attach some concrete
definition to this feeling. This … this magical connection, whatever it
was, this power reaction that was taking over their bodies, he didn't
understand it, had never heard about it, had never felt it, and almost
wondered if they were the only ones who had ever felt such wonder. But
no, that couldn't be. They couldn't be the first-- this had to be some
closely kept secret, or perhaps it was the interaction of the glamours
on both of them-- no, this hadn't happened last night, or maybe it had
-- maybe this had been that pins-and-needles feeling he'd felt last
night. But now it was ten thousand times more intense, and then he got
the distinct impression, no, it was more of a demand that he felt, but
it said to him more skin now, and by some tacit agreement, they
were frantically ripping off each other's clothes, gasping at the
magical static increasing a hundredfold again. Neither of them could
move, it seemed. Severus longed to have that hot mouth on his cock but
he couldn’t bear to break all the contact between them to have his need
satisfied, and it seemed that Harry felt the same way. They both fell
to the floor, Harry landing on top of him, and they couldn't stop
kissing, they were breathing the same air, gasping in and out of each
other's mouths and oh good god, fuck, yes, his entire body was
screaming, every particle of his being was shouting and singing and
spinning out of control and it was like they were cemented together,
just grasping at each other, trying desperately to get closer, needing
desperately to get to closer, bodies cursing the realm of physical
possibility and demanding that the sky open and some power make it
possible for them to melt into each other.
Harry shifted himself
so that their cocks were actually touching and he quite literally went
blind for a few seconds, his vision filled with white-hot pleasure,
flashing bright white light. He wondered if it was his synapses
collapsing on themselves, or if they had created this light. Harry
could feel himself coming with a force greater than that of all the
orgasms he'd had in his life combined, but didn't manifest itself
physically. They both stayed achingly hard, but he could tell Aidan was
feeling the same thing, because if their mouths hadn't been crushed
together, they would have both been screaming at the top of their
lungs. This was so intense it almost hurt -- did hurt, but it was the
best pain he'd ever felt -- and Harry was quite sure that his heart was
breaking, and he could feel tears streaming down his face and there was
no world there was no anything there was only skin and white heat and a
hum of magic that was now actually audible-- or was that the blood
buzzing in his ears? -- no it was both, he could hear his pulse and
Aidan's but above that, there was another sound, more high-pitched.
he didn't know what to do. "Need more, need more of you," he
half-moaned, half-panted, half-screamed (no, that was three halves,
that wasn't right-- but it was, because this defied everything) against
Aidan's lips. His plea didn't come out as any intelligible speech but
Aidan understood, he knew he did, because he gripped Harry's arse
bruisingly and crushed Harry against him. Harry cried out, and they
were rolling all over the rug, clamouring for more. Despite the fact
that their cocks were crushed against each other, and every available
inch of skin was in contact wherever it could be, it still wasn’t
Aidan rolled over on top of Harry, kissing him harder
than ever, and the magic was so loud now that there was bound to be an
explosion soon. All the windows will smash and the world will
disintegrate… oh fuck, oh, noyesno…
The world already had shattered-- they were somewhere else now, and
Harry clawed at Aidan's back with his fingernails. He was sure he was
drawing blood, but he knew it didn't hurt-- or it did, but it was
better than pain-- because the magic got louder and Aidan was digging
his nails into Harry's thighs now. He understood, he understood now
that the harder a touch was, the deeper it went, and the harder it
would pierce the need. He dug his fingernails into Aidan's back as hard
as he could, even though he was sure the bones in his hands had to be
cracking under the pressure.
He could feel the blood on his
hands, but even that pain felt good, and he wrapped his legs around
Aidan's waist and begged him, "Fuck me, fuck me now, please," but it
all came out as muffled gasps and cries, but yet again Aidan seemed to
understand. Despite how much breaking all the contact hurt there, was
no other way, and Aidan took Harry's cock into his hand, his fist
pumping frantically, and he reached his other hand up to find Harry's
mouth. Harry sucked his fingers, crying out and biting down on them
when he felt Aidan's tongue move over his balls and oh god yes
inside him, but only for a second. Then it was gone, and Aidan took his
hand out of Harry's mouth and thrust it quickly inside him. He somehow
positioned himself above Harry's mouth, and shouted something
incoherent when Harry started to suck him, still working his fingers in
and out of Harry, and then moved to enter him in one swift motion. He
licked Harry's chest and bit his nipples and thrust into him hard, so
hard, and then everything really did explode. There was a loud crack of
magic, like a thunder clap, and they came screaming into each other's
mouths. It seemed to last hours. Maybe it did last hours, but Harry was
sure they were both unconscious for a minute or two afterwards, and
then they opened their eyes, breathless, bruised, and bleeding, sense
returning to the world at last.
"Oh. My. God," Harry said, still trying to catch his breath. "What …
what was that?"
could only shake his head. He had no idea. "I don't know," he said,
"I've never even heard of that happening. I'll have to see if there's
any thing I can find about it anywhere. Oh, you're bleeding," he said,
touching a finger gingerly to Harry's lip.
Harry looked down at his hands and yes, there was blood on them. "I
think you probably are, too."
me get my wand," said Severus. He was nervous about Harry seeing it,
but it could have been a thousand other wands. He got up and removed it
from its sheath in his discarded boot, and healed all Harry's wounds.
He tried to heal his own but they wouldn’t close.
"What... Why won't they heal?" Harry asked, his voice trembling.
"I don’t know," Severus said. "Why don't you try?"
"With your wand?" Harry asked
"It's just an idea I've got," said Severus.
"I haven't done magic in over a year," Harry said. "Are you sure about
just handed him the wand. If he was right about what was going on here,
Harry was the only one who would be able to heal these wounds.
strangest thing happened. One healing spell was enough to close all the
wounds at once. "I shall have to do some research," said Severus, "but
I think I might know what this is."
"What?" Harry asked. "What is it?"
"I'll tell you when I know. There's no use saying anything about it
"Do you think it might be dangerous?"
"I don't know … it could be … hazardous, perhaps, to our health, if we
don't learn how to control it."
tacit agreement they both got up and went to the shower, where they
washed each other gently, revelling in the warmth and the skin and the
Harry did notice the hint of the dark mark on
Aidan's arm. He wasn't going to say anything about it, but Aidan saw
him looking at it and gave him a pained look.
"That part of my life was over long before Voldemort fell," Aidan said,
and Harry could read the sincerity in his eyes.
"Don’t worry," Harry said. "I understand."
was so relieved to hear those words that he pulled Harry close and
kissed him. Not one of the violently magical kisses they'd shared just
a few minutes before, but a soft one into which he poured every ounce
of what he felt, even the feelings he did not yet understand; he just
let the outpour of emotion he was feeling flow over his lips.
sighed contentedly into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Severus's
waist, and there they stood for a long while, letting the water run
over them, lost in the feeling of each other's lips. Harry ran his
tongue down Severus's neck, and Severus moaned and instinctively
gripped Harry's arse. They were both hard again, miracle though it
seemed. Harry wordlessly dropped to his knees and began to suck Severus
gently. And between seeing Harry's mouth on him and seeing that Harry
was also touching himself, he felt his knees weaken. He had to brace
himself on the walls of the shower, and almost fell over when he felt
the fingers of Harry's other hand go into him. But this wasn’t brutal
and frantic. Harry's hands and mouth were slow and gentle, and Severus
might almost have called the touches loving if he didn't know better.
Or perhaps he shouldn't try to know better, and just let himself
believe. It couldn't hurt any more than his heart did already. But he
wouldn't think about that, not now. Harry looked up at him briefly and
seemed to see that he was enjoying the show, and knelt down a little
further to give Severus a better view. That movement broke him, and
Severus came in Harry's mouth, clenching the back of his head and
trying desperately not to moan "Harry" an effort that was fortunately
successful, as it just came out as 'haaaa,' which could be taken as any
sort of moan. Harry hadn’t come yet but Severus could tell he was
close, and Severus made a move to touch him, but Harry stopped him.
"No," he said. "I want you to watch."
god," Severus breathed, and Harry lay down part way. Severus could see
his fingers go inside of him, and he wished he could watch his face and
his hands at the same time, because the combined effect was the most
exquisite thing he had ever seen. God, Harry was close, so close, he
could tell. He even felt a stirring in his own exhausted loins and
reached down to touch his half-hard cock, wincing at how sensitive it
was, but needing something, because it was such torture to watch
Harry opened his eyes and smiled up at him devilishly.
sank down in front of him. "Please let me," he said, "please." He
didn't wait for permission, and reached down to tease Harry's nipples.
He reached up and took some soap and spread it over Harry's chest, his
hands now sliding easily over the hard nubs and causing Harry to moan
and involuntarily bend one of his knees up. Severus took the foot in
his hand and rubbed it, still watching Harry's ministrations on
himself. He let the water run over Harry's foot and wash the soap off,
and then tentatively kissed his ankle, just ever so softly. It seemed
to cause Harry to bite his lip and stroke himself faster so he took his
foot in both hands, gently massaging it and kissing the top of it. No,
Harry didn't seem to find this strange or unpleasant at all. He threw
caution to the wind and very slowly and deliberately sucked each toe as
though it was Harry s cock, letting his tongue tease over the ends of
them. Harry was moaning loudly now and seemed to be losing coordination
of the hand he had on his cock.
"Let me," Severus said again, and
Harry opened his eyes and nodded, and moved his hand down to the base
of his cock to let Severus put his mouth on it.
"Oh god, yeah,"
Harry groaned, and Severus moaned at his lover's pleasure. "Aidan…
Aidan, oh, god," Harry was moaning. Severus was almost stung by the
name, though he understood. He knew Harry didn't know, couldn't know,
but it hurt nonetheless. He kept going, though, cupping Harry's balls
with one hand and pushing the fingers of the other hand into him,
watching his face and it was… oh, god, it was beautiful, and
suddenly he wanted nothing more than to fuck him again, to feel that
tight heat around his cock. He was hard again just thinking about it,
but no, he wouldn't, this was about making Harry feel good. Watching
his face like that, even out of the corners of his eyes, was almost
almost enough. But it wasn't, quite. He wanted to see him how he really
was, wanted to see Harry Potter himself there, but he knew he couldn't.
He imagined it, though, and he did moan 'Harry' this time, but Harry
didn't seem to be able to understand him, fortunately.
Harry came in his mouth, incoherent and moaning, "Oh god, yeah… Oh god…
Iloveyou…" I love you?
No he certainly couldn’t mean it; it was only the lust talking, but
Severus found that he liked hearing it nonetheless. And that scared him
a little. The second he'd raised his head, Harry sat up to kiss him.
No, he didn't even know what it was he had said, quite clearly.
They both stood up together, and Severus stepped back reluctantly. "We
should stop," he said.
"I know," Harry said. "I probably have to leave for work soon. I don't
even know what time it is."
focused for a second, then waved his hand and said, "Tempus." A vapoury
clock appeared in the air, informing them that it was eight o'clock.
I didn't know you could do that," Harry said. "But I don't have to be
at the restaurant until ten, so we have two hours still," he said,
closing the space between them and kissing Severus.
Severus pulled away with a sigh. "We should at least get out of the
shower," he said.
know, I know," Harry said. "I think the hot water is running out
anyway." But they couldn't stop from kissing each other as they stepped
out of the shower and dried each other off.
smelled terrible, so Harry loaned him a pair of jeans and a t-shirt,
pronouncing how cute he looked once he had changed into them. "Oh,
especially your bum," Harry said. Severus blushed. "Tell me," Harry
said, "is that part of the glamour, or is that your real bum?"
"No, it's my real one," Severus said. "My face is the only thing
different." Severus was feeling quite self-conscious now.
And Harry kissed him.
Severus said, "I think we should sit down and talk for a moment." He
was really sort of dreading what he was about to say, but he rather
felt it needed to be said.
Harry nodded, and once he had finished getting dressed, he sat down on
the couch with Severus.
Severus said, going in to professor mode temporarily. But not really,
because the real Severus Snape would never be talking about such a
thing. "This may sound strange, but can we make an agreement? I know
you're used to being called Julian, but I'm not remotely used to being
called Aidan. Can we agree just to try not to use those names..." he
was about to say in bed, but then he realised they'd yet to
actually be in a bed at the same time. "Well, while we're..." he
couldn't believe his inability to voice it. This glamour must have done
something to his brain. The real Severus Snape would never be squeamish
about mentioning such things.
"I understand," Harry said,
mercifully stopping him from needing to explain further. "It's sort of
like being called by someone else's name, isn't it?"
"Yes," Severus said.
Harry nodded. "I had that problem, at first. I'll do my best, but I
can't really take any responsibility for what I say when I'm... in that
state," he said, looking down sheepishly. "I don't suppose you could
tell me your real name."
Severus shook his head, regretting for all he was worth that he
couldn't have been called John or something equally common. "You know I
can't, any more than you can."
A couple of credits-- the "how curious, how bizarre and strange"
bit, spoken by Griffin, is taken more or less verbatim from The Bald Soprano by Eugene Ionesco,
and the bit about bursting into blossom comes from some now-unknown
transcendentalist poem I read in high school. Just so you know.