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It was one too many dark nights, one too many nightmares. One too many meetings in the late hours, with neither of them wanting to be alone. One too many moments of weakness, and it’s somehow gotten them here, with Severus pressed up against the wall of his chambers and Potter sucking a bruise into the side of his neck. And Severus knows very well that he should be protesting – should put a stop to this madness before it goes any further – but he’s old, and he’s tired, and whatever this thing is between them, it’s long since twisted from its original animosity into something much more complicated, and if Potter wants to get his hands into Severus’ robes, then Severus knows damn well that he’s far too fucking touch-starved to even think of saying no.
“Too – many damn – buttons –”
It’s rough against his mouth, the boy – no, not a boy; he’s a colleague now, no longer Severus’ student, the only mercy in this entire damn train wreck – fumbling his way down Severus’ buttons until he finally seems to make his fingers work right, and then Severus is being stripped right in the middle of his own damn living room, while nary a stitch has left Potter’s body; and he’s just about to complain when Potter gets the front of his robes open and puts his mouth on his chest, and then all Severus can do is groan and hold on tight to Potter as his eyes slide shut and his head thumps back against the wall behind them.
“Potter – bed – I have a perfectly adequate –”
The words cut off as Potter’s teeth make light contact, a flash of helpless heat, and then Severus can do nothing but catch hold of Potter’s hair and tug, gently, until Potter lifts his head to meet his eyes, and – christ, the sight of him there, lips swollen and his pupils dilated behind his damn glasses. It takes Severus a second to think, and then he swallows hard and aims for basic coherency.
“Bedroom.”
And Potter, thank everything, seems to get it, because he straightens up and turns to go, obviously expecting Severus to follow, and – hell. The fact that Potter’s already spent enough time here that he knows which doors lead him to Severus’ bedroom, well – it just feeds the flames even higher, and Severus tugs his robes back around him and follows, and it can’t take more than ten seconds after he enters the room for Potter to have him back against the wall, fingers working their way across Severus’ clothes as Severus closes his eyes and lets himself just sink into it all. He’ll deal with the repercussions later. Deal with the fact that, at this point, he’s still not even sure if Potter even likes him, beyond spending time together while the rest of the world is asleep. All he knows is that, somewhere along the way, between him almost dying and Potter clearing his name and then them both coming to teach at Hogwarts, everything inside him got messed up, and this thing between them seems to have shifted, and if the weight of Potter’s body against his feels safe in a way that has nothing to do with the physical, well – nobody has to know except Severus.
“Bloody buttons –”
It’s a low mutter, and then Severus’ robes are pooling on the floor around his feet, and his shirt is being pulled over his head. He lifts his arms without thinking, feels himself shudder at the flash of cold air against his skin, can’t stop the surge of vulnerability as he’s left topless against the cold wall – but Potter’s moving, too, yanking his own sweater off and dropping it on the floor, his glasses landing unceremoniously on top of the clothing pile, and – christ. Severus knows he’s not much to look at, knows he has no right to touch the tousled hair and bare chest and big blue eyes that are standing in front of him, but from the way Potter’s hands are suddenly sliding across his chest, nails catching just slightly until Severus is hissing and dropping his head to press his face into Potter’s shoulder, maybe Severus doesn’t have to fucking care for once what he looks like.
“Alright. Liking your bed suggestion.”
Potter’s voice is shaky and rough, somewhere close above him, and Severus barely has time to register the words before he’s being maneuvered away from the wall and towards the bed, until his knees hit and – he goes down softly, at least, and then it’s a struggle to breathe as Potter settles across his knees and puts a hand over the press of Severus’ cock, hard against the front of his trousers.
“Can these go?”
It takes a second to process, and then Severus makes a noise that sounds desperate even to his own ears, and Potter seems to get it, scoots down the bed until he’s got Severus’ boots unlaced and on the floor, socks following, and then his hands are sliding slow up the inside of Severus’ legs, and Severus feels the touch through every inch of him, can’t help but arch into it. Can’t do anything but bite his lip and dig his fingers into the blankets beneath him as Potter strips him of his trousers and pants, leaves him naked and shaking and it’s been so fucking long since he – since anyone –
“Jesus.”
He only realizes his eyes are closed when Potter’s low voice reaches him, and he opens them, can’t help but pull in a little closer on himself, but Potter is – staring, looking at him as though Severus is something worth being stared at, and – christ. It’s been a long, long time since anyone looked at him like that, and he closes his eyes again as Potter’s hand slides across his stomach, again catching the skin with the slightest hint of nails – and then Potter’s off the bed completely, stripping off his shoes and socks, dumping them into a pile with his pants and trousers, and Severus is – possibly not going to survive this night. He’s got some gorgeous twenty-something-year-old climbing into bed with him, naked and perfect and pushing up against Severus as though they haven’t spent the last decade clawing and snarling at each other, and Severus just – can’t think anymore. Can’t do anything but feel as Potter’s cock slides hot and slick against his own, and his body is on fire in ways it hasn’t been in decades, and Severus can only hold on – gets his fingernails into Potter’s back, swallows the groan that spills into his mouth – as Potter slides their bodies together and kisses him like he’s trying to steal the oxygen right out of Severus’ lungs.
“Can you – what do you –”
And Severus knows, even before Potter finishes panting the words against his mouth – knows exactly what he wants. Knows that, even if he might not know what Potter’s getting out of this, he at least knows that he’s not going to ridiculed, knows that they’ve at least gotten past that point – and he pushes Potter off and pulls the tube he needs out of his bedside table, drops it on the blankets and then crawls up onto his knees, lets his head hang down low as heat spreads through him at the audible rasp of Potter’s breath. Can’t quite stop the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks and down his neck, and Potter seems to have frozen behind him, and Severus is – well. He’s going to feel ridiculous in a very short period of time unless Potters gets it the hell together and just fucking fucks him already.
“Waiting for an invitation?”
His voice, unfortunately, is not the sardonic drawl he was aiming for – it is, in fact, much shakier than he would have liked – but it seems to do the trick, because Potter is suddenly pressed up against him again, his mouth sliding hot and damp across the curve of his spine as Severus shudders and does his best to make his knees hold underneath him, and – christ. There’s the snap of a lid behind undone, and Potter, thankfully, doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t check to make sure that he’s sure – just slicks up his fingers and presses them against the entrance to Severus’ body, and Severus doesn’t know how or when Potter learned how to do this, but, at the moment, all he can feel is gratitude. Because Potter doesn’t hesitate, keeps the pressure gentle but firm, soft touches until his body starts to relax, until he can slide a finger, slow and slick, all the way inside, and Severus just – holds on tight to blankets underneath him and tries to breathe. Years stacked on years since he last did this, but he wants it, god, and from the way Potter’s mouth is shaky against his skin, his mouth damp and slack where it’s pressed against Severus’ back, Potter might possibly want this just as much.
“Tell me if I hurt you.”
Potter sounds just about as wrecked as Severus feels, and Severus doesn’t need to read his mind to hear the true concern there. It makes his chest pull too tight, and he can’t do anything but push into the touch, tightens his grip on the blankets, everything blurring into a dull ache until Potter’s finger finds his prostate, and Severus should care about the noises he’s making, his face gone hot with the sound of his own voice, but Potter’s groaning against him, his mouth latched onto his spine, and Severus just can’t give a damn anymore. Can’t do anything but gasp for air as Potter slicks him up and works his fingers inside, a second, then a third, the movements sure but gentle, slow and careful like he cares, like this actually means something, and Severus – it’s all twisting up inside him, leaving him shaking, and by the time Potter slides out his fingers, Severus’ cheeks feel hot enough to burn.
“Are you –”
“Fine, dammit, would you just –”
“Can you – could – turn over, maybe?”
It’s stilted, hesitant, Potter’s voice barely making it to him through the haze – but then the words register, and Severus goes very still. Can’t breathe. And Potter seems frozen behind him, until a hand slides slow across his back, fingers drawing circles in the skin, and Severus – is not going to analyse this. He’s not. Not going to think about the fact that Potter obviously wants to know who he’s with – wants them both to know who they’re with. Not now, at least. Later. Now, he just needs to remember how to breathe, and how to make his limbs unlock enough to turn him over.
“If you don’t want –”
But Severus is already moving, twisting over to lie on his back, and – he’s meeting Potter’s eyes, somehow. No idea how, but he is. And doesn’t know what he’s seeing there, but, maybe, it’s something more than just wanting someone to chase away the darkness with – maybe Severus isn’t the only one here who’s out of his depth – but it’s a thought that washes away when Harry settles between Severus’ thighs, slicking himself with quick motions and then tugging Severus’ legs up to wrap them around Potter’s hips, his fingers damp and lube-slicked – and Severus closes his eyes and digs his feet in above Potter’s ass, braces himself as best he can as Potter’s dick presses hot and wet against the slick entrance to his body, and it’s been so fucking long, and Severus only realizes his breathing’s going sharp under the sudden wave of vulnerability when Harry leans down to kiss him, steals the air clean out of his lungs and then breathes it right back.
“You good?”
His voice is rough, barely there, and Severus swallows hard, nods – squeezes his eyes shut as Potter presses into him, his muscles burning in ways they haven’t in years, an ache that – god, he’s missed this, so fucking good – missed having someone he could actually trust to – and then Potter’s in a bit deeper, his voice breaking on a groan, somewhere above Severus, and Severus finds himself scrabbling for purchase, gets his fingertips into Potter’s skin and just holds on. He’s not sure how long it takes, Potter moving in tiny thrusts as Severus pants and gasps and makes noises he should hate himself for, but eventually his body relaxes enough, and – christ, Potter’s all the way inside, panting against his mouth with his eyes squeezed closed above Severus, and Severus – can’t help but writhe, that ache in him flaring higher and hotter as the seconds tick by, and –
“Christ, Potter, move!”
The words all but grind out between his teeth, and he sounds ridiculous, but Potter doesn’t laugh. Just tightens his grip around him and pulls out, slowly, a dull burn that has Severus twisting hard underneath him, and then forward again, and again, his nails digging in to Severus’ skin the entire time, and Severus tightens his legs around him, presses his feet into his back, and just holds on. The room starts to blur at the edges, then, everything going shaky and hot as Potter keeps thrusting deep and hard inside him, over and over, his mind washing white and his cock aching in between them, and – christ, Severus should so not be doing this face to face. Should not be watching this happen, because the sight of Potter’s bitten lower lip and flushed skin is somehow just as good as the slide of his dick across Severus’ insides, and all he can do is scratch at Potter’s skin and moan, the heat inside him spiraling higher until he gets a hand down in between them and wraps it around himself, stroking hard even as Potter leans down to press their mouths together.
“Are you – I’m almost –”
Severus nods into the words, hears them from a distance, feels himself hit that precipice and just hang there until Potter kisses him again, bites down hard on his lip as his dick hits his prostate hard enough to make Severus jerk against him, and then Severus’ mind is washing white and he can feel himself soaking their skin in between them, feel his cock jerking and his muscles locking down hard around Potter, everything burning away and his skin flushing hot across his entire body. Distantly, he can hear Potter groaning, can feel his thrusts lose their rhythm, can feel the way his body’s protesting the continued movement, almost too sensitive, but then there’s warmth and heat inside him and Potter is shaking as he falls forward, half collapsing on top of him with his face pressed against the skin of his neck, and their chests heaving against each other in between them.
For a long moment, there’s nothing but their panted breaths. Then, Potter pulls back enough to slide his dick out, and Severus bites down against a wince, but his entire body feels like liquid, feels way too fucking good, feels like everything inside him has been turned inside and in a way hasn’t happened in fucking decades – and then Potter lowers himself down again, rests against him as though they’ve done this a thousand times before, and Severus really should care. Should care that he’s covered in semen, that they’re going to get stuck together soon, that Potter has seemed to assume that he’s got the right to stay – but Potter's pressing a kiss against his neck, strangely hesitant considering what they’ve just done, and Severus can’t care. Makes his muscles work and carefully wraps his arms around Potter, tightens his grip a bit more when Potter doesn’t try to pull away– and Severus can figure out what this means later. For now, he’s just going to hold the boy – man – close and enjoy feeling safe and wanted in a way he hasn’t felt in years.