Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ It Runs in the Family ❯ It Runs in the Family ( One-Shot )

Disclaimer: All characters are (c) to J.K Rowling. I make absolutely no financial profit out of this.

 

Author's Notes: I have absolutely no idea how this story ended up the way it has. I hope you enjoy, but let me know even if you haven't.

- It Runs in the Family -

"Sssss...," the rapidly building heat left Harry speechless and panting. The occasional hisses and mewls that left his lips were the sole indication for his lover to keep doing just.that, and Severus was all too happy to comply.

"Pleease..."

Severus knew the meaning behind that pleading voice. Without looking up from the neck he was so busy sucking on, he gently caressed Harry's chest, moving his hand further downward to slip under the boy's underpants.

It was always gently with Harry, at least until the boy lost all semblance of control and almost begged to be filled. But to get him to the point of no return, Severus had to practically walk on eggshells around him, trying to establish contact baby-step by baby-step.

Harry was no longer his student, and Severus could finally drop the heartless professor attitude whenever he was around, but that didn't mean that the boy saw him in any brighter light.

Boy. Harry was all but a boy now. He grew taller, his shoulders widened, eliminating all doubt that the creature lying beneath him was a full grown twenty two year-old man, a man that was busy growing up, while Severus himself kept growing older.

For years now, Severus wondered what exactly made Harry want him in that sense of the word. He was old and ugly, his hair was greasy and his fingers were always stained with different potion ingredients - in short, he was not the prince charming Harry told him he wanted to meet back in his seventh year. At that time, Severus all but snorted at the boy's confession and assured him that The Boy Who Lived did, and always will get the best of everything, no matter who must get ran over in the process. Today he realized just how wrong he had been.

Or perhaps how right, Severus thought, perhaps it is me who is getting run over by him now.

But it was only natural. While Harry was carefree and warm like the sunshine, Severus himself was an ice-cold paranoid, trapping his emotions behind tightly closed doors - they just didn't fit together, nevertheless, they completed each other.

Not once Snape wondered how wonderful it will be to have something beautiful in his possession, something that didn't smell of death and didn't look like one's worst nightmare. And perhaps Harry himself needed a change of scene, something ugly by his side to remind him that not everything is perfect in this world, or maybe to show everyone that The Boy Who Refused to Die didn't always get the best.

But he sure deserved it, Snape's angry inner voice reminded him, making him cringe and unconsciously dig his yellowed fingernails into the flesh beneath him. A pained cry from somewhere over his head brought him back to the present, and Snape instantly let go of the boy. He paled significantly when his eyes caught sight of the red bruises on Harry's hip, where his hand has been just moments ago.

I hurt him, Severus thought with horror, I tried so hard to keep him intact, to be gentle... Holding his breath, Severus moved his gaze to the boys face, but the fear he expected to see did not greet him.

Harry's eyes were still closed, his breath labored, but there was no sign of pain on his features. He lay there, unmoving, only his chest rapidly rising and falling. The bulge beneath his underwear was still present, and now a wet spot gradually appeared on the white cottony fabric.

"Please...," he breathed out, rising his hips in silent encouragement. Snape couldn't believe what he was seeing. Obviously, his earlier unintentional violence didn't ruin the mood, but he decided to make it better nevertheless. Leaning down, he kissed the bruised hip lightly, and when the intact of breath from above reached his ears, Severus put his tongue to the task - licking, kissing, and sucking it better.

Harry's strangled cry brought Severus back to the present. "Ungh!...don't be a tease!"

The little snot is enjoying this! Smirking, Severus swiped his tongue repeatedly across the sensitive skin just below the waistband, fascinated by its creamy texture.
With trembling hands, Harry reached out and pressed on Snape's head almost frantically, pushing him further downwards all the while moaning just how good it felt right there.

“Mmm…,” was all Severus could master while nuzzling the patch of hair surrounding the boy's sex. The musky scent combined with the slight tremble in the hips that rose to meet his mouth almost sent Snape over the edge. It was the first time that Harry got so wanton this early in their little power-play, and Severus wondered if he had been watching one of those movies again.
“Porn”, Harry called them, and when Snape asked for the plot, the boy shrugged and said that there was none really, and that most of them had carnal pleasures for a main theme. When he asked if they were supposed to arouse the viewer, Harry gave him an incredulous look - one that you give a professor when he admits being oblivious to something obvious.

A frustrated growl and a tag on his hair brought Snape back from his memories, and in return he nibbled on the fully erect cock standing proudly next to his lips. Not expecting the action, Harry felt his every muscle twitch with hot pleasure, blinding him and making his ears rings pleasantly.

“Ahhh… God!”

“Liked that, didn't you?” Snape murmured and gave the hard length a wet lick, “Better than those movies you've been watching, I take it.”
Not waiting for Harry's reply, he pumped the cock twice more and engulfed as much of it as he could. He ignored the pleas coming from the boy, and for a few moments did nothing but rub the vein on the underside of Harry's cock with his tongue, moistening the organ and adding just enough pressure to be awarded with a full throated moan.

Oh how he loved to hear Harry moan, and when he finally began to move his head up and down, building a steady and deliciously torturing rhythm, Harry did just that.

“Yeessss… just like that,” the boy hissed out and brought his hands up to hold onto the headboard. Severus didn't dare to look up. He knew that the sight of stretched muscles and flushed skin will outdo him, and he couldn't cum before rendering Harry speechless with pleasure.

Recalling the boy's earlier reaction, Severus decided to add some teeth to his ministrations. When Harry's cock touched the back of his throat, making the boy gasp, Snape brought down his teeth and scraped the length from the base to the head, applying enough pressure to make little tremors run through the body beneath him, but not enough to mark the tender skin.

“Ahh! Please, Daddy, no more!”


Daddy!?

Severus froze. Good thing that Harry's cock was in his hand now, for he was sure he would have chocked on it.

“Who--,” he grasped for words. Looking up at the horrified boy, he wondered if his own face was as screwed up in shock as Harry's was. “What did you call me?”

Harry's eyes reflected panic and regret, but he didn't say anything yet. It was just a slip, Snape tried to reason, a very odd slip…

“Well?” his voice took a demanding edge, spurred by the sudden silence. Someone needed to do the shouting here, just to get things moving, answers flowing. Severus needed to hear an explanation right now; otherwise he will certainly lose it.

The boy was panting. Whether it was the remainder of the pleasure in his system or the newly experienced horror that made his breath turn irregular was beyond Severus. His hands still held onto the headboard in a vice-like grip, and his pale face turned several shades of red before turning away from Snape's confused gaze.

“Daddy,” the boy whispered, and his hips twitched upwards.

Severus winced. “Yes, I heard you the first time. Why did you call me that? Come on, speak up boy! I have no intentions playing games with you.”

But it seemed that his words fell on deaf ears. Harry was watching him from the corner of his eye, and something akin to heat reflected in the green orbs. Then a thought struck Severus, and he brought his face to the boy's, crawling over him and rubbing himself against that sinuous body and the still hard cock.

“Or perhaps,” Severus whispered against the boy's cheek, “You want me to play that dirty game with you.” His low voice obviously had an effect on the boy, for the latter shut his eyes and inhaled sharply. When a hot tongue traced his ear, Harry moaned and arched up to get more contact, but Snape was off of him the next moment.

“How about a glamour, Potter?” Severus' low voice reflected his anger, “Want to be fucked by your old man? By that pathetic excuse of a father you had?” Severus then swiftly turned to walk towards the mirror.

Harry shot up from the bed. “No! Severus please, not the mirro--” He didn't get to finish his sentence when a terrified cry was heard from across the room.

Severus stood in front of the mirror, trembling from head to toe. His hands were clutched in fists at his sides, and his heartbeat was hectic. In the mirror, an angry reflection of James Potter was staring at him murderously… knowingly.

Behind him, he saw Harry sit on the edge of the bed, resting his head in his hands.

“I created a spell,” the damn boy muttered, but added no more. For Severus, even that was too much information. When his own ugly features didn't greet him in the mirror, he didn't need someone to tell him that he was under a spell, a very powerful spell that could only be mastered by an equally powerful wizard.

“How long?” Snape asked, his voice an uneven whisper. It wasn't even the whole question, but he feared his voice will break midways. He could certainly guess the answer himself, but he refused to play any more games with the boy, refused to be left wondering again.

“Always,” was the barely audible whisper, but Severus heard it, and it cut open all those wounds that feelings marked him with over the years. In other circumstances he would have been shocked by the revelation that The Boy Who Lived had a thing for incest, not to mention necrophilia. In other circumstances, he would have probably praised the boy on a perfectly done job - after all, he hadn't even sensed he was being cursed and the boy hadn't used his wand. But being on the receiving end of the spell, Severus felt nothing but betrayal and utter disappointment. First Sirius and James, and now Harry... I guess betrayal runs in the Potter family.

Ever since they started with this relationship a year after Harry's graduation, he'd known that the boy wouldn't want him for him. Who in their right mind would?!
He knew there was a catch, he could sense it, but the hopeful idiot inside his mind assured him that for once, he will have something akin to love in his life, and Severus chose to trust that little voice. And look where it got you.

He opened his mouth to tell the boy to leave, but another question stroked his mind. He gulped.

“Why, Harry?” his voice held confusion, but also a shadow of hurt, “why me?”

Please, Snape silently begged, please just blame my looks. Just don't say I was a convenience.

“You were my professor,” the boy spoke, a bit surprised that Severus asked. He obviously hadn't prepared an answer for that. “You knew me better than anyone else, and you knew my father… it was easier with you.”

Easier, Severus repeated in his mind, as he felt his heart being torn up and stepped upon like never before. His throat constricted and suddenly the figure sitting on the bed blurred into patches of colors. His eyes stung, but he dare not blink, for then the salty liquid will roll down his cheeks, and he will show weakness in front of a Potter - no, two Potters. Glaring at the blurred reflection before him, Severus chocked out two words.

“Get.Out.”

Whether he was referring to the image of his arch enemy or to the boy sitting behind him, Severus wasn't sure, but he decided that seeing both gone would make things easier.

“Severus,” Harry began with a sigh, but Snape refused to listen.

“I said get the HELL OUT OF HERE! And take this damn spell off!” He screamed in outrage, his control almost gone by now. Harry dressed quickly, muttering that the spell will wear off in half an hour. When he was decent, he grabbed his wand and got to the door. Turning around to cast one last glance at Snape, he spoke quietly.

“Severus, I'm sor--”

“Lying through your teeth even as you leave?” Snape demanded and shut his eyes, unable to watch the boy's retreating figure in the mirror, “Spare me the niceties, Potter, and get the HELL out of my life before I cast an unforgivable.”

At first, there was only silence, but the sound of a door being shut moments later broke it mercilessly, just like Potter's words broke Severus.

After Dumbledore's death, he promised himself that no more, never again will he take up the role of a plaything in another's play, and then came Harry…

Opening his eyes again, Snape was met by a very pitiful reflection. The cheeks were wet with tears that just kept rolling, and the eyes spoke of betrayal, regret and so much pain. But Snape made no move to pull himself together, for in the mirror he saw James Potter, and a Potter was never in control of his emotions.

“A pitiful excuse for a father, indeed.”

In half an hour he will have to pull his robes on and head to Hogwarts. But until then… until then he was a Potter. And he will do what no one had - he will cry for a Snape.







Fin.