Keeper of the Superfluous Es! (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
themostepotente) wrote2004-02-15 05:06 pm
themostepotente) wrote2004-02-15 05:06 pm
I Never Promised You a Rose Garden (SS/HP -- NC-17)
Title: I Never Promised You a Rose Garden
Pairing: SS/HP
Rating: NC-17
Summary: All is never what it seems. It does not do to dwell on dreams.
Kinks: No kinks - just sucking and fucking.
Disclaimer: Oh, so not mine. This market's been cornered.
Enjoy![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ficbymarks!
I Never Promised You a Rose Garden
The Slytherin tapestry, the four-poster bed, the empty absinthe bottle on the nightstand, the Stradivarius violin - all these he'd seen before, committing to memory every nuance.
Harry slipped his arms around his lover's neck, pressing for a kiss. He was met, however, with rigid apprehension. Placing his hands on top of Harry's forearms, Snape removed them from his person, shaking his head.
"I wonder", he began, "could you separate love and sex? Fuck without feeling?"
Harry was puzzled, wondering what brought this on so suddenly. He was still reeling from the throes of last night's passion.
"I'm not sure what you mean." The bespectacled teen trained his wand on the Stradivarius, charming it to play on its own - Bach's Air on the G String.
"You wear your heart on your sleeve for all to see. True, love has saved you in the past, but ultimately, it will be your undoing." The look on Harry's face was nothing short of confusion. This aggravated Snape to no end. "For God's sake boy, the light is on, but no one is home." Something else angered Snape, as well; he silenced the violin with a flick of his wrist. He simply would not shout above the bowing of strings.
"Are you asking me to...fuck without pillow talk?" Harry hadn't bothered to take his eyes from Snape, charming the violin a second time.
"This is precisely what I am asking - a sweaty fuck without the..." Frowning, he paused. "Post cuddle." Swish. Flick. Silence.
A challenge. How could he refuse? Not that their love life needed the strain.
"I could." Harry accepted without hesitation. This saddened rather than pleased Snape.
"So cocky. There is a fine line between arrogance and confidence."
"Dammit, Severus! This isn't Potions. I'm not at your mercy! And do you mind?" Swish. Flick. Resume.
"On the contrary. I am your teacher both on and off the clock. I would be doing you a grave injustice to halt the learning process afterhours. And I had thought these were 'my' chambers, but fine."
"What you're doing is spoiling the mood."
"So shut up and take me."
"How can you ask this of me when you can't even follow your own rules? It's almost as if you're determined I fail - a wish fulfilling prophecy." Harry was much too easily flustered.
"I'm preparing you for the outside world. You'll thank me later."
"I don't see how."
"You will." Snape glanced at his bedside clock. "As luck would have it, I'm not timing you."
His lover's insistence suddenly made him nervous, and his hands trembled reaching for the first button. Harry's palms were sweating profusely, and he felt as though he would spontaneously combust, his body temperature rising. "Too many fucking buttons, Severus."
"The better to frustrate you with, my boy."
Several buttons bounced on the stone floor with Harry's attempts to rid Snape of his cumbersome robes; the teen's over-aggressive tendency and healthy libido responsible.
"This isn't a race. Make believe it's Christmas, and I'm the last gift you've to open. Do you really want to deprive yourself of the feeling of knowing you'll have to wait until next year to recapture the moment?"
"This goes both ways, y'know. If I'm expected to turn off my feelings at random, you could ease up. Balance, Severus - yin and yang."
"Ah, fortune cookie philosophy, Potter - right and wrong, light and dark, pleasure and pain, good and evil."
"You're not evil, Severus."
"And you're not good - at least in that context."
"Guilty as charged", he growled, pushing Snape down on the bed. Moments later, several more buttons went skittering across the floor. Propping himself up on his elbows, Snape watched as Harry peeled back his shirt and jacket. The Potions Master was smooth-chested with moon-kissed skin. Only the poison green of the Dark Mark marred the pale glow of his skin.
Straddling Snape's lap, Harry pulled his sweater over his head, mussing his unmanagable locks. Snape went to help Harry with his buttons, but was met with a rap to his knuckles. Forgetting the sleeve buttons, Harry shrugged from his button-down, his hands ensnared by his own forgetfulness. He swung wildly trying to free them before he finally allowed Snape to assist him. The oxford and sweater found new homes in a dusty corner, tossed nonchalantly. A good thirty seconds had passed before Harry pressed his lips to Snape's, laying his hands on his chest. Snape's lips were suprisingly soft and inviting. Once Harry had gotten past the disarming smile, it was hard not to kiss him. When their lips parted, Harry wiggled his way down Snape's legs, taking with him Snape's trousers. Those too, wound up a crumpled heap in the corner.
Snape's cock was very clearly outlined in the pair of well-worn boxers. Harry played peek-a-boo much to Snape's dismay, lifting and snapping back the elastic before his head was held down by an impatient hand.
"If you sing it songs, boy, so help me God... Take it. Suck that cock. Make it yours."
Harry couldn't be bothered divesting Snape of his shorts, sucking him right through the fabric. He wedged his tongue through the opening, sliding his hands up the leg holes. When Snape could no longer stand the feel of impeded contact, he scooted out of from them underneath Harry and rolled onto his stomach.
Harry urged Snape's legs apart at the thighs. What little body hair Snape had was dark but fine, especially down the cleft of his arse. Harry knew this because he favoured tongue fucks to fingers, stabbing into Snape's entrance while kneading his cheeks. If Harry thought he could silence Snape like this during class, he'd risk exposure. Only the occasional slip of deific worship passed his lips.
Harry slipped from his own trousers and boxers, dropping these at the foot of the bed. He had pulled out his wand for a few spells, one for lubrication - this commonplace for wizardly fucks. What Snape hadn't anticipated was the utterance of a follow up spell - Rosa Defloreo Descendo. Snape's chambers began to rain rose petals, leaving both a pleasant feel and fragrance to the room.
Harry pulled Snape's body up his thighs, readying his entrance. Leaning forward, cock in hand, he guided himself inside Snape slowly, just as he was taught. It was rare that Snape bottomed - twice to be exact, the other being with Lucius Malfoy. Harry liked that Snape felt he could relinquish the reins to him responsibly. The kind of implied trust found only on the battlefield - the sharing of life and limb.
Once inside, Harry slithered his way up Snape's body - a true snake on his belly. The velvety caress of his tongue on Snape's ear produced a shockwave of shivers while he whispered not-so-sweet nothings. With each maddening thrust into Snape's arse, the bed linens bunched and straightened accordian-like. Harry favoured his fucks hard and fast, changing positions often. His hands had found their way to Snape's, readying his next hostile take-over - forcing his tightly curled fingers open and spread. This seemed to amuse Snape, who enjoyed engaging in this sort of rough sport.
There was now a light dusting of rose petals covering both the bed and the floor. It smelled sweet - a little too for Snape's taste. But then, so was Harry and the whimperings of a little boy lost. And the silly faces he made when he came. And the looks of defeat when he'd been topped from the bottom - just as what was about to happen.
When Harry had inadvertently 'slipped out', the opportunistic bastard in Snape pressed for advantage. He had Harry on his back, helpless as an overturned beetle struggling to roll right side up. Snape had to look upon Harry for moment - his angel with the tarnished halo and the forked tail. In a show of surrender, Harry kicked his legs up into the air for Snape to grab hold of his ankles. Seizing Harry's wand, Snape uttered a lubrication spell of his own and one other - Vitiferus Rosa Spineus.
Creeping vines found their way around Harry's wrists, binding him. Around his head like a crown of thorns and again around his ballsac. The thorn pricks were sharp and interspersed, interconnected with his cock as it writhed against his belly.
"Sorry to have to 'one up' you my boy," Snape teased, easing himself inside Harry's arse.
But Harry wasn't one to complain - this was his favourite position. Wrapping his hands around Harry's ankles, Snape bowed his head to watch as his cock drove in and out of Harry's entrance. Snape had never bothered to remove his robe fully. It slid down his wraith-slender frame, flapping in the breeze it created. The greasy locks that framed Snape's face bounced on his cheekbones as Harry slammed back to meet him thrust for thrust. Perforations the size of pin pricks bled droplets where the thorns pierced Harry's skin. Snape's robe slid further down his back, revealing the cleft of his arse - his cheeks clenching and dimpling as the fuck intensified fast and furious.
Letting the right ankle loose and reaching between Harry's legs, Snape took Harry's cock in his hand, stroking him. Sweat beaded at Snape's temples in a mad endeavor to reach their shared climax. Harry thrashed from side to side, dislodging the tortoise-shell frames so that they hung lopsided on his face. Snape held back his release for a moment as he lovingly
straightened them.
"Look at me, boy. Look into my eyes."
Harry turned to look in his lover's eyes just as Snape began coming, and the intense burn of his gaze sent Harry over the edge as well. He whispered Snape's name in a low voice as his come rolled down his abdomen, wetting the dark ringlets around his cock. Snape collapsed on top of Harry with a satisfied sigh of contentment. The afterglow was to be short-lived, a few minutes obligatory.
"You can't stay the night. You must return to your dormitory."
"I know", Harry said quietly. He hated that Snape asked this of him. He would find no comfort alone - not after this.
"I never promised you a rose garden, boy. You knew it would eventually come to this - the pain of separation." Snape got up, leaving Harry to his bed as he crossed to the corner to retrieve Harry's clothes.
"Evanesco." Snape had vanished the thorny vines. "I will make you a healing potion come morning."
Harry nodded solemnly, but he had no intentions of quaffing it - he wanted a reminder. He dressed himself quietly before saying his goodbyes. "One...four...three."
Snape could say nothing in response to Harry's code for I love you. He appeared unmoved, but inside he was dying.
The caress of strings faded along with the familiarity of Snape's detached 'goodnight.' Harry pressed his lips to Snape's cheek, but he was met not with the alabaster visage of his lover, only the cold and impersonal feel of a mirror. It was almost painful to hear the silence.
The Mirror of Erised - Men have wasted away in front of it.
Harry's reflection came into view. Gone was the boy with leonine vivacity. He was haggard, hirsute and aged, but most of all, lonely.
Fin
Pairing: SS/HP
Rating: NC-17
Summary: All is never what it seems. It does not do to dwell on dreams.
Kinks: No kinks - just sucking and fucking.
Disclaimer: Oh, so not mine. This market's been cornered.
Enjoy
ficbymarks!The Slytherin tapestry, the four-poster bed, the empty absinthe bottle on the nightstand, the Stradivarius violin - all these he'd seen before, committing to memory every nuance.
Harry slipped his arms around his lover's neck, pressing for a kiss. He was met, however, with rigid apprehension. Placing his hands on top of Harry's forearms, Snape removed them from his person, shaking his head.
"I wonder", he began, "could you separate love and sex? Fuck without feeling?"
Harry was puzzled, wondering what brought this on so suddenly. He was still reeling from the throes of last night's passion.
"I'm not sure what you mean." The bespectacled teen trained his wand on the Stradivarius, charming it to play on its own - Bach's Air on the G String.
"You wear your heart on your sleeve for all to see. True, love has saved you in the past, but ultimately, it will be your undoing." The look on Harry's face was nothing short of confusion. This aggravated Snape to no end. "For God's sake boy, the light is on, but no one is home." Something else angered Snape, as well; he silenced the violin with a flick of his wrist. He simply would not shout above the bowing of strings.
"Are you asking me to...fuck without pillow talk?" Harry hadn't bothered to take his eyes from Snape, charming the violin a second time.
"This is precisely what I am asking - a sweaty fuck without the..." Frowning, he paused. "Post cuddle." Swish. Flick. Silence.
A challenge. How could he refuse? Not that their love life needed the strain.
"I could." Harry accepted without hesitation. This saddened rather than pleased Snape.
"So cocky. There is a fine line between arrogance and confidence."
"Dammit, Severus! This isn't Potions. I'm not at your mercy! And do you mind?" Swish. Flick. Resume.
"On the contrary. I am your teacher both on and off the clock. I would be doing you a grave injustice to halt the learning process afterhours. And I had thought these were 'my' chambers, but fine."
"What you're doing is spoiling the mood."
"So shut up and take me."
"How can you ask this of me when you can't even follow your own rules? It's almost as if you're determined I fail - a wish fulfilling prophecy." Harry was much too easily flustered.
"I'm preparing you for the outside world. You'll thank me later."
"I don't see how."
"You will." Snape glanced at his bedside clock. "As luck would have it, I'm not timing you."
His lover's insistence suddenly made him nervous, and his hands trembled reaching for the first button. Harry's palms were sweating profusely, and he felt as though he would spontaneously combust, his body temperature rising. "Too many fucking buttons, Severus."
"The better to frustrate you with, my boy."
Several buttons bounced on the stone floor with Harry's attempts to rid Snape of his cumbersome robes; the teen's over-aggressive tendency and healthy libido responsible.
"This isn't a race. Make believe it's Christmas, and I'm the last gift you've to open. Do you really want to deprive yourself of the feeling of knowing you'll have to wait until next year to recapture the moment?"
"This goes both ways, y'know. If I'm expected to turn off my feelings at random, you could ease up. Balance, Severus - yin and yang."
"Ah, fortune cookie philosophy, Potter - right and wrong, light and dark, pleasure and pain, good and evil."
"You're not evil, Severus."
"And you're not good - at least in that context."
"Guilty as charged", he growled, pushing Snape down on the bed. Moments later, several more buttons went skittering across the floor. Propping himself up on his elbows, Snape watched as Harry peeled back his shirt and jacket. The Potions Master was smooth-chested with moon-kissed skin. Only the poison green of the Dark Mark marred the pale glow of his skin.
Straddling Snape's lap, Harry pulled his sweater over his head, mussing his unmanagable locks. Snape went to help Harry with his buttons, but was met with a rap to his knuckles. Forgetting the sleeve buttons, Harry shrugged from his button-down, his hands ensnared by his own forgetfulness. He swung wildly trying to free them before he finally allowed Snape to assist him. The oxford and sweater found new homes in a dusty corner, tossed nonchalantly. A good thirty seconds had passed before Harry pressed his lips to Snape's, laying his hands on his chest. Snape's lips were suprisingly soft and inviting. Once Harry had gotten past the disarming smile, it was hard not to kiss him. When their lips parted, Harry wiggled his way down Snape's legs, taking with him Snape's trousers. Those too, wound up a crumpled heap in the corner.
Snape's cock was very clearly outlined in the pair of well-worn boxers. Harry played peek-a-boo much to Snape's dismay, lifting and snapping back the elastic before his head was held down by an impatient hand.
"If you sing it songs, boy, so help me God... Take it. Suck that cock. Make it yours."
Harry couldn't be bothered divesting Snape of his shorts, sucking him right through the fabric. He wedged his tongue through the opening, sliding his hands up the leg holes. When Snape could no longer stand the feel of impeded contact, he scooted out of from them underneath Harry and rolled onto his stomach.
Harry urged Snape's legs apart at the thighs. What little body hair Snape had was dark but fine, especially down the cleft of his arse. Harry knew this because he favoured tongue fucks to fingers, stabbing into Snape's entrance while kneading his cheeks. If Harry thought he could silence Snape like this during class, he'd risk exposure. Only the occasional slip of deific worship passed his lips.
Harry slipped from his own trousers and boxers, dropping these at the foot of the bed. He had pulled out his wand for a few spells, one for lubrication - this commonplace for wizardly fucks. What Snape hadn't anticipated was the utterance of a follow up spell - Rosa Defloreo Descendo. Snape's chambers began to rain rose petals, leaving both a pleasant feel and fragrance to the room.
Harry pulled Snape's body up his thighs, readying his entrance. Leaning forward, cock in hand, he guided himself inside Snape slowly, just as he was taught. It was rare that Snape bottomed - twice to be exact, the other being with Lucius Malfoy. Harry liked that Snape felt he could relinquish the reins to him responsibly. The kind of implied trust found only on the battlefield - the sharing of life and limb.
Once inside, Harry slithered his way up Snape's body - a true snake on his belly. The velvety caress of his tongue on Snape's ear produced a shockwave of shivers while he whispered not-so-sweet nothings. With each maddening thrust into Snape's arse, the bed linens bunched and straightened accordian-like. Harry favoured his fucks hard and fast, changing positions often. His hands had found their way to Snape's, readying his next hostile take-over - forcing his tightly curled fingers open and spread. This seemed to amuse Snape, who enjoyed engaging in this sort of rough sport.
There was now a light dusting of rose petals covering both the bed and the floor. It smelled sweet - a little too for Snape's taste. But then, so was Harry and the whimperings of a little boy lost. And the silly faces he made when he came. And the looks of defeat when he'd been topped from the bottom - just as what was about to happen.
When Harry had inadvertently 'slipped out', the opportunistic bastard in Snape pressed for advantage. He had Harry on his back, helpless as an overturned beetle struggling to roll right side up. Snape had to look upon Harry for moment - his angel with the tarnished halo and the forked tail. In a show of surrender, Harry kicked his legs up into the air for Snape to grab hold of his ankles. Seizing Harry's wand, Snape uttered a lubrication spell of his own and one other - Vitiferus Rosa Spineus.
Creeping vines found their way around Harry's wrists, binding him. Around his head like a crown of thorns and again around his ballsac. The thorn pricks were sharp and interspersed, interconnected with his cock as it writhed against his belly.
"Sorry to have to 'one up' you my boy," Snape teased, easing himself inside Harry's arse.
But Harry wasn't one to complain - this was his favourite position. Wrapping his hands around Harry's ankles, Snape bowed his head to watch as his cock drove in and out of Harry's entrance. Snape had never bothered to remove his robe fully. It slid down his wraith-slender frame, flapping in the breeze it created. The greasy locks that framed Snape's face bounced on his cheekbones as Harry slammed back to meet him thrust for thrust. Perforations the size of pin pricks bled droplets where the thorns pierced Harry's skin. Snape's robe slid further down his back, revealing the cleft of his arse - his cheeks clenching and dimpling as the fuck intensified fast and furious.
Letting the right ankle loose and reaching between Harry's legs, Snape took Harry's cock in his hand, stroking him. Sweat beaded at Snape's temples in a mad endeavor to reach their shared climax. Harry thrashed from side to side, dislodging the tortoise-shell frames so that they hung lopsided on his face. Snape held back his release for a moment as he lovingly
straightened them.
"Look at me, boy. Look into my eyes."
Harry turned to look in his lover's eyes just as Snape began coming, and the intense burn of his gaze sent Harry over the edge as well. He whispered Snape's name in a low voice as his come rolled down his abdomen, wetting the dark ringlets around his cock. Snape collapsed on top of Harry with a satisfied sigh of contentment. The afterglow was to be short-lived, a few minutes obligatory.
"You can't stay the night. You must return to your dormitory."
"I know", Harry said quietly. He hated that Snape asked this of him. He would find no comfort alone - not after this.
"I never promised you a rose garden, boy. You knew it would eventually come to this - the pain of separation." Snape got up, leaving Harry to his bed as he crossed to the corner to retrieve Harry's clothes.
"Evanesco." Snape had vanished the thorny vines. "I will make you a healing potion come morning."
Harry nodded solemnly, but he had no intentions of quaffing it - he wanted a reminder. He dressed himself quietly before saying his goodbyes. "One...four...three."
Snape could say nothing in response to Harry's code for I love you. He appeared unmoved, but inside he was dying.
The caress of strings faded along with the familiarity of Snape's detached 'goodnight.' Harry pressed his lips to Snape's cheek, but he was met not with the alabaster visage of his lover, only the cold and impersonal feel of a mirror. It was almost painful to hear the silence.
The Mirror of Erised - Men have wasted away in front of it.
Harry's reflection came into view. Gone was the boy with leonine vivacity. He was haggard, hirsute and aged, but most of all, lonely.
Fin
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It's lovely. And sad. And depressing. And hot. And so on.
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and now ater reading that sad little piece i have to go to work and be cheerful.
life is a bitch sometimes
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What kind of job do you have?
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I like it. Definitely wasn't expecting the mirror. A good twist. :)
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He swung wildly trying to free them before he finally allowed Snape to assist him. The oxford and sweater found new homes in a dusty corner, tossed nonchalantly.
Loved this moment of sexual realism.
Harry's reflection came into view. Gone was the boy with leonine vivacity. He was haggard, hirsute and aged, but most of all, lonely.
Damn. What a sock-to-the-gut ending. You're way too good at those, you know. I lovvvvvvvve this, sweetie. Possibly more than the poem, which is amazing because you know how much I liked that. Adore esso.
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is it wrong that the absence of a comma between enjoy and ficbymarks cause my brain to momentarily believe that to be a directive to all readers to go enjoy Marks (in which case, Marks, I expect you may be rather heartily cheered in short order...)
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*feels very much like an item at the concession stand*
*likes it*
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I remembered the comma!
Re: Enjoy me, baby!
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I especially like the little details that hint at a much longer story (143, favorite position, the violin etc.).
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That was really, really excellent. The mirror bit at the end sent me into shock. :)
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... well, I'm so glad I did that!!!
The end nearly broke my heart in two! ... I'm gonna add this to my favourite Snarry fics! It's brilliant!!!
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Very Good
Re: Very Good
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*breathes* Read this over at
Also, we have several fandoms in common. May I friend?
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*feeds the LM/SS bunnies* Hehehe...
*settles in to read some good Snarry*
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