Title: Making Sure
Word Count: 1608
Summary: Severus distracts Harry on a Monday.
Disclaimer: This piece is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling; various publishers, including, but not limited to: Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books; and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Harry rolled over in the bed—right into his snoring husband. Light was streaming in the window. This is wrong, he thought. It's too quiet. Why isn't—
Severus opened one eye and stared at him. "Something the matter?"
"The house is quiet."
"Yes. Delightful," Severus said, reaching for Harry and pulling him closer.
Snuggling into the crook of the other man's shoulder, Harry wanted to forget his questions, but duty would not allow him. "Why is it quiet?" he asked suspiciously.
It was not his birthday. It was not even a holiday. It was just a Monday without significance, and he was lying, comfortable and warm, in his husband's arms. It was wrong.
"It's got to be after eight!" Harry said, bolting upright.
"Mr. Snape. Stop. Right. There."
The commanding tone sent shivers up and down Harry's spine. He usually loved to hear Severus speak to him in that particular tone; it meant something delightfully sensual was in store for him. But at this moment, it only irritated him.
"I won't. I've got to check on the—"
"Petrificus Totalus!" Severus cast lazily.
Harry went rigid and fell back on the bed. I'm going to kill him later!
Slowly, Severus rose from the bed, stripped it, and arranged Harry in a spread-eagled position. Once this was done, he cast, Aesto! and his husband felt a warmth surround him in spite of the chill morning. Next, the Potions master hissed a familiar binding spell, and thick, soft, strong cotton cords shot out of the man's wand to slither around Harry's wrists and ankles and secure them to the bedposts.
"Finite Petrificus Totalus!"
"Silencio!" he responded, and then appeared to reconsider. "No, that won't do. I'll want to hear you."
Severus walked out of Harry's line of sight, but the younger wizard knew where his husband was going. The toy chest, he thought, seething in spite of the frisson of arousal the was racing through his body.
Harry's nipples had peaked the moment Severus had cast his binding charm, and his prick had already been hard. Now he was glad of this preparation, for suddenly, two small mouths began to suckle his nipples, sucking and licking and then biting as they became tiny clamps that fastened to his flesh.
Oh, he mouthed, unable to utter a sound.
"Damn," Severus replied, seeing this. "I wanted to hear that. I love listening to your moans. Finite Incantatum!" he said, kneeling over him and bending down, his left hand out of sight.
Harry was unable to complete his thought, as a wide rubber ball was forced into his mouth, not hard, and not enough to silence him thoroughly, and then Severus secured the straps of the gag behind his husband's head.
"Do you know what it does to me, Harry, to see your eyes so wide and wild, furious, curious, desperately open and staring at me as they are now?"
Harry did not even bother to make a sound. I'm not giving you the satisfaction.
Severus chuckled, low and throatily, and Harry's cock jumped. "Oh, you'll make noise for me, Harry," he whispered against the man's neck. "You'll writhe and groan and beg. However. You. Can. Before. I'm. Done. Before I'll allow you to come. But then," he continued, drawing his tongue up the tendon standing out on Harry's neck, "you know that, don't you?"
Severus ignored this protest and traced Harry's collarbone with his tongue, dipping down in tiny strokes to lave the area around his nipples with tiny licks. This always drives him mad.
And this occasion was no exception, as Harry bucked his hips savagely.
"Patience, my Harry, my husband, my own," Severus instructed, enjoying the way Harry's cock throbbed and glistened. "Hmm, mustn't allow you too much excitement," he said, whispering another spell.
No! YES! Oh, please! Harry cried inside his mind, trying valiantly not to make noise as the metal cock-and-ball cage suddenly surrounded his straining erection and testicles and pulled itself tight, separating his balls and preventing his easy orgasm.
He loved it when Severus denied him, only to force the most extreme pleasure on him later. He loved it so much it almost made him forget what he should have been doing.
How can he be so irresponsible? he raged, struggling as hard as he could, even though he knew it was useless to do so. And where the hell did he go?
"I can see," Severus said as if in reply, "that you are having difficulty letting go. I expect I have a potion for that."
No. Oh, no. No. Not today. I can't. I can't handle that today! I'll forget. I'll forget everything!
"You can handle it, Harry. You can take anything," Severus said, for he had read his husband's mind, as he knelt on the bed in between Harry's spread legs and drew the fingertips of each hand lightly over the skin of the bound wizard's inner thighs.
The tingling began at once. First, it was a chill sensation, as if Harry were shivering from cold, but then, it gradually warmed, became like the heat of passion, and pulsed into his skin like snakes or fingers, caressing him, tickling him, driving him mad.
Harry made a strangled sound from behind the ball gag, his body going rigid and then relaxing, rigid and then relaxing, as he endeavored to repel the feeling of the gel. He knew it would not work.
Oh, oh, oh, oh!
"Oh, yes. Gods you look delectable like this. So desperate, so tumultuous, so ready—are you ready for me, Harry? Perhaps not," Severus answered himself, applying more of the gel to Harry's abdomen, chest, arms, neck, and last, his lips.
"I quite agree. I was never more delighted to discover that you lips were an erogenous zone for you—coming just by my kiss, rather than on my cock, I do like that, Harry."
Harry did not truly hear his husband at this point. He was beyond anything but feeling. Take me, take me, take me, ran the litany of his thoughts.
"Oh, very well, if you ask nicely," Severus told him, leaning down to release the ball gag and then sitting back.
Harry choked out a laugh, a sob, a plea: "GodSeverustakemeshagmemakemecome!"
With a growl, Severus stretched himself over Harry to reach for his wand on the night table, released Harry from his bonds, prepared his entrance magically, and then thrust his cock into the greedy hole that was waiting for him—Harry having pulled up his legs obligingly.
"Gah! So hot! So . . . good, Harry," Severus panted, pushing inside of the welcoming body he had known and loved in this manner for twenty years. "So very . . . so . . . mine."
"Yours, yours, yours," Harry keened in agreement. "Oh, gods, oh, SEVERUS!" he thundered, his nerve endings exploding in a searing orgasm the likes of which he had not experienced in quite awhile.
Loveyouloveyouloveyouloveyou, Severus chanted in his head—the only place he ever said those words, but Harry understood. Harry could hear him. And thinking of this put him over the edge: "Harry!" he cried out, gasping and panting and desperate for kisses.
Their mouths were bruised by the time they came back to themselves, but Harry was too sated and exhausted to be angry anymore.
"Lily and Sebastian are going to be so late for school, we might as well forget about sending them, I think. They'll have missed that assembly they were looking forward to. You'll have to make it up to them."
Lily was ten, Sebastian, eight—Harry and Severus had not wanted to begin their family immediately, and the preparations for Harry's pregnancies had taken several years. They attended a magical preparatory academy in Hogsmeade, which Hermione ran.
Severus yawned, kissed his husband's forehead, and said, "I packed Lily and Sebastian off to the Headmistresses' at the crack of dawn so that we could have this morning to ourselves, Harry."
"Y—you did? Why didn't you tell me? And . . . why?"
"Because you've been so busy tending to our family that you've had no time for yourself—and because . . . happy anniversary, Harry. It's been twenty years today."
"Oh, no! I forgot! Oh, Severus, Severus I'm such a git—so sorry, I mean! I don't know how I forgot!"
"Don't fret. You're always forgetful in the first trimester."
"Why do you think I took your blood the other day?"
"But I . . . I thought it didn't work."
"It did, and I couldn't be happier."
"It . . . it has—and you didn't think it would," Harry accused, meaning their marriage.
"Yes, well, when one's seventeen-year-old, newly graduated pupil insists upon declaring his love for one," Severus began, and then stopped. You've never said it. He could hear the thought in Harry's mind as clearly as if he had spoken. "Harry James Potter Snape, you know, you know that I—"
"That's all right. You don't have to say it. I understand."
Severus sat up. "No, no you don't. I didn't realize," he continued, rising from the bed and going to kneel on Harry's side of it. "Harry. Harry, I . . . I love you."
His husband's face lit up more brightly than Severus had ever seen it glow. "There, that wasn't so difficult, was it?"
Ignoring the tears coursing down his face, and hoping that Harry would do the same, Severus replied gruffly, "No. No, it wasn't."
Harry dragged the wizard up on the bed and held him, kissing the tears off of his cheeks. "I did understand, you know. And I love you. I can't believe you waited so long to tell me I was pregnant!"
"Well," Severus said, smirking, "I wanted to make sure."