Fic: Cooking Complications
Jan. 8th, 2016 01:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alisanneTitle: Cooking Complications
Author:alisanne
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter, Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger.
Word Count: 2524
Genre: Romance.
Warnings: Salmon abuse?
A/N: Written for my darling beta![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-userinfo.gif)
emynn's Birthday today! Happy Birthday, bb! ♥
Her prompts: Alarm, cooking, smoke, salmon. *g*
BTW, The Fishmonger's Apprentice is a real book.
Beta(s):sevfan.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Cooking Complications
~
“Salmon?” Hermione shot Harry a worried look. “Why salmon? Don’t you think you should start with something a bit less, erm…”
Harry glared at her. “You don't think I can cook it? I mean how hard could it be?”
Hermione sighed. “Fish can be complicated, Harry. And you did say you wanted this dinner to be perfect.”
“I do.” Harry fiddled with his cup. “So far our dates have gone great, but we’re always going out to eat and then he sees me home and he’s the perfect gentleman, which is great, but at some point I want more, you know?”
“You want him to be less of a gentleman?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.
“Not exactly.” Harry coughed. “I love that he’s a gentleman and it’s not as if I want him to be a feral beast or anything—”
Hermione patted his hand. “I understand. Maybe a bit of passion wouldn’t be amiss, hm?”
“Yes!” Harry sat back in his chair. “And it’s there, Hermione. When he kisses me goodnight it’s amazing.” He sighed. “But he never wants to come in. And he's never invited me to his place. After our dates I’m so worked up that I end up having to take care of myself—”
“No need for details,” Hermione said, tone prim. “So you want to cook him the perfect dinner at your flat so that when your amazing cooking skills impress him you’re somewhere private so that passion can be free to…overtake you both.”
“Right.” Harry beamed at her. “So will you?”
“Will she what?” asked Ron, settling into the seat beside Hermione and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’d best not be propositioning my woman, Potter.”
Harry chuckled. “What you don’t know won’t hurt you, Weasley.”
Swiping Hermione’s teacup, Ron took a sip, then snagged a biscuit. “Isn’t that the truth? Does this mean the Snape talk is done, then, and we can move on to safer topics?” Shoving the entire biscuit in his mouth, he chewed quickly before grabbing another.
“Almost,” Harry said. He eyed Hermione. “And to answer your earlier question, salmon’s his favourite, so it has to be salmon. Now will you lend me your fish cookbook or not?”
“Of course,” Hermione said. “I’ll owl it over this evening so you can look through it.”
Ron blinked. “Wait, you’re asking Hermione for cooking advice? Why not ask my mum?”
Hermione stiffened. “Are you saying I’m a bad cook, Ronald?” she asked, tone low and dangerous.
Harry looked rapidly back and forth between them. “Your mum would cook it for me, Ron, and I want to do it for myself. Plus, Hermione has the largest collection of cookbooks of anyone I know.”
“Okay, right, yeah,” said Ron before turning to face Hermione. “And you have to admit, Hermione, your cooking isn’t exactly up to Mum’s.”
Hermione sucked in a breath and Harry braced himself for the explosion. “Well if it’s so bad, maybe you should move back in with your mother and have her cook for you all the time!” Hermione hissed.
As the argument escalated, Harry slowly pushed away from the table and, leaving a few Galleons as his contribution to tea, backed his way out of the restaurant. Once out the door, he sighed and, wrapping his scarf more tightly around his neck, set off for Gringotts. Looked like their weekly tea meeting was over.
~
Later that evening, Hermione’s owl arrived carrying a small bundle. After accepting it and giving the owl a treat, Harry opened it to find a shrunken book. Enlarging it, he smiled at the title, The Fishmonger’s Apprentice, and, opening it, began to read. There was an entire section on salmon that he skimmed.
Once done, he closed the book and smiled. His date with Severus was the following evening, and in his mind he saw them eating, then Severus, so overcome by the delicious meal, would kiss him. Harry would kiss back and then…
“You’re mine, Severus,” he whispered. “Mine.”
~
After he got out from work, Harry hurried away from Gringotts and towards the fish market. Luckily, there was still a decent selection, and he picked a beautiful looking slab of salmon. They even cut it into individual servings for him before wrapping it up.
Harry then stopped in several shops to pick up spices and vegetables, after which he went home and checked the clock, pleased when he saw he had over an hour to prepare for Severus’ visit.
Everything was going swimmingly until the doorbell rang. Harry had just put the salmon into the pan to sear.
“Coming!” he cried. Eyeing the salmon, he estimated he had enough time to let Severus in and say hello before doing anything else.
Severus looked wonderful in his dark Muggle coat, tall and delicious. He was carrying a bottle which he handed over as soon as Harry opened the door. “Good evening.”
Even his voice sent shivers up Harry’s spine. “Good evening, Severus,” Harry replied, relieved when it didn’t come out as a squeak. “Come in. I’m just finishing up dinner.”
Severus stepped inside, and as he passed by, Harry inhaled his scent. He swallowed hard.
“Where do you want me?’ Severus asked as he shrugged off his coat.
Harry’s mouth went dry. “What…what do you mean?”
Severus raised an eyebrow. “I mean, shall I wait for you here in the sitting room or would you rather I stay with you in the kitchen while you cook?” He handed Harry his coat.
“You want to watch me cook?” Harry smiled at the idea. It would be very domestic. “Um, sure. Let me just hang this up—”
Coat hung in the closet, Harry surreptitiously checked Severus out. He was wearing black trousers, a white button-down shirt and a beautiful green and black vest. He looked positively edible.
“Is something wrong with what I’m wearing?” Severus asked, looking down at himself. “I wore a Muggle outfit because you live in a Muggle neighbourhood and—”
“No, nothing’s wrong,” Harry said, dragging his eyes from Severus’ clothes. “And thanks for wearing something Muggle.” He smiled. “My neighbours are nosy and I’d have been subjected to questions about who the strange-looking bloke was if you’d worn robes.”
The corner of Severus’ mouth curved upwards. “Now all they’ll ask about is who the strange-looking bloke in regular clothes was.”
Harry shook his head. “More likely I’ll be asked where I found such a handsome bloke and is he my boyfriend.”
“And what will your reply be to that?” Severus asked, tone soft.
“Depends on who’s asking.” Harry stepped closer to Severus. “If it’s Mrs Mitchell across the hall I’ll be as evasive as possible, but if it’s Mrs Coker I might be more forthcoming.”
“I see.” Severus bent his head, their lips mere inches apart. “And what makes Mrs Coker so special?”
Harry’s eyes started to close as their mouths moved closer together. “She’s—”
A loud noise pierced the air and they sprung apart, both reaching for wands. “What in Salazar’s name is that?” Severus shouted.
Harry groaned and ran for the kitchen. “The salmon!”
The kitchen was filled with smoke and the Muggle smoke detector was shrieking for all it was worth. Raising his wand, Harry cast an Air-Freshening Charm and turned off the alarm. Behind him he heard Severus sigh.
Making his way through the smoke, Harry peered into the pan where he’d been cooking the salmon. It had shriveled to a third its former size and was burnt black. From the corner of his eye he saw Severus reach for the oil. “You used this to cook it?” he asked.
Harry nodded dejectedly. “Olive oil. It’s what the fish cookbook recommended. For what that’s worth.”
Severus clasped his shoulder. “It’s not the end of the world. We can always go to Angelo’s. You like their carbonara, after all.”
Harry spun to face him. “No, that’s not what I wanted for tonight. Tonight was supposed to be for—” He paused.
“What?” Severus asked, tone soft. “What was tonight supposed to be for?”
“Us!” Harry cried, sagging against the kitchen counter. “It was supposed to be for us to have an intimate dinner and then, maybe…” Harry’s voice dropped to a whisper, “…explore our passion?” He looked away from Severus, cringing at how foolish it sounded now that he’d said it aloud. “Forget it,” he muttered as the silence stretched out. “Angelo’s is fine.”
“Harry,” Severus said, sliding his hands around Harry’s waist. “Why do you think I’m not passionate about you? Are our kisses not satisfactory?”
“Our kisses are great but I want more,” Harry said. “And I thought if we were someplace private more would be, well, be more likely to happen.”
“More hasn’t already happened because I wanted you to be the one to choose this, to choose us.”
“But I’ve invited you in after dinner many times,” Harry said. “And you always refuse.”
“Because we drink over dinner.” Severus pursed his lips. “I didn’t want our first time to be confused by alcohol. In addition I’m a possessive man. Once I claim someone—”
“Possessive is okay,” Harry said, pressing closer. “I’m a bit possessive about you, too. And I haven’t been drinking tonight.”
Severus smiled. “Nor have I.”
“Then maybe we can—?” Harry gasped as he was pushed firmly against the counter by Severus’ body. Severus’ hard body. “Severus?” he moaned.
“We can,” Severus whispered, his mouth capturing Harry’s in a kiss. “We will.”
Harry felt Severus’ kisses clear to his toes, and when those long fingers slid under his shirt to caress the skin underneath, Harry threw his arms around Severus’ neck and clung.
Somehow they made it to Harry’s bedroom, shedding clothes along the way, stumbling and hitting walls as they kissed and groped one another in a bid to get closer. Harry spared a moment to be glad he’d prepared his bed with fresh sheets, and then all thought fled as Severus, naked, pressed him into the mattress.
Harry had assumed their first time would be fast and hard and he’d been prepared for that. Nothing, however, prepared him for a Severus who explored him slowly, thoroughly, who took his time to caress every part of his body, whose kisses stole Harry’s breath and every thought, and whose hands trailed pleasure wherever they went.
Soon, Harry was shuddering, gasping, arching beneath Severus in a bid to get him to move faster. But Severus was intent, pausing occasionally to stare into Harry’s eyes, and those looks seemed to delve into Harry’s soul.
“Please,” Harry whispered brokenly, his nails convulsively digging into Severus’ back.
Severus’ fingers, deep inside Harry, twisted slowly, making Harry arch and buck in response. “So beautiful,” he whispered against Harry’s mouth. “You should see yourself.”
“I’d rather…look at…you,” Harry panted, his hands moving restlessly over Severus’ shoulders, back, and arse.
After sucking a kiss into Harry’s neck, Severus shifted, rolling until Harry was astride him, legs spread wide. “You want to see me?” he murmured, slippery fingers still stretching Harry. “Then look your fill.”
Harry pressed his hands against Severus’ chest, taking in the sight beneath him. Severus’ hair was spread across the pillow, his cheeks were flushed, his eyes glittering as he watched Harry, an unreadable expression on his face.
Leaning in, Harry kissed Severus, his tongue delving into his mouth, moaning as the kiss deepened. “What do you want?” he whispered into Severus’ neck once the kiss broke.
“Ride me,” Severus growled. “Ride my cock.”
“Yes,” Harry hissed, the very idea making something clench inside him. “God yes.”
Scrabbling for the bedside table, Harry retrieved the lube, coating his fingers generously even as Severus continued to finger him. Harry would have conjured some just as Severus had earlier, but his concentration wasn’t what it should have been, so he couldn’t collect himself long enough to do it.
After liberally coating Severus’ cock with lube, Harry eased back onto it, moaning as Severus moved to help. And as Severus’ cock nudged at his hole, Harry closed his eyes, gasping at the first burn of penetration. “Fuck,” he groaned.
“Working on it,” murmured Severus.
Harry’s soft laugh became a moan as Severus’ cock pressed deeper, opening Harry slowly. As Harry sat down, taking Severus deeper, Severus’ hands grasped his hips, guiding him. Sweat broke out on Severus’ forehead. “So tight,” he gasped.
“So good,” Harry replied, rolling his hips until Severus’ cock brushed against his prostate sending shocks of pleasure up his spine. “Yes! God!”
He raised himself up, clenching his teeth as the sensation of Severus’ cock gliding out of him sent sparks to his core. As he pressed back down, Severus arched up, meeting his thrust.
They settled into a rough rhythm, Harry whimpering as Severus’ cock moved in and out of him. Every third thrust or so he hit his prostate, making Harry arch his back and cry out.
Severus was moaning, his fingers pressing firmly into Harry’s back, but when one hand moved towards Harry’s cock, Harry was lost. After only a few pumps of Severus’ hand, Harry was shouting and coming, spilling himself over Severus’ hand and stomach.
He collapsed atop Severus, panting. Severus growled something unintelligible that sounded like, “Mine,” and rolled Harry onto his back before grabbing his thighs and draping them over his shoulders.
Opening his eyes, Harry stared up at Severus, who was looming above him, fucking into him in earnest. Here was the fast, hard thrusting Harry had expected, and it was glorious. Reaching up, Harry looped his arms around Severus’ neck, pulling his face down for a kiss. The kiss was as desperate as the thrusting and Harry lost himself in Severus’ movements, revelling in the desperation he felt coming from him.
Severus’ rhythm stuttered, his hips grinding against Harry until, with a low cry, he came, shuddering in Harry’s arms, eyes clenched shut, his face contorted. He was gorgeous.
After a moment where he seemed to be suspended over Harry, Severus collapsed beside him, panting.
Harry was sore, aching in all the right places, and once he caught his breath he whispered, “I have more salmon. Shall we try dinner again?”
Severus laughed. “We may as well. I’m not in the mood to go out right now, are you?”
“No.” Rolling onto his side, Harry kissed Severus slow and deep. “I laid in supplies for breakfast, too, just in case dinner was a success.” He waited, breathless, for Severus’ reply.
Raising himself up on an elbow, Severus looked down at Harry. “Breakfast sounds lovely, Harry.”
Beaming, Harry sat up, Summoning his robes. “Brilliant! Then you stay here and I’ll see what I can do about dinner.”
Severus shook his head and sat up. “And leave you to burn more salmon? Don’t be ridiculous. You clearly need someone to keep an eye on things in the kitchen.”
And the bedroom. Harry ducked his head and smiled. “You may be a distraction. Still, I’d be glad of the company.”
And as they made dinner together and ate, Harry’s heart was singing. Severus was finally his.
~
Author:
alisanneRating: NC-17
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter, Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger.
Word Count: 2524
Genre: Romance.
Warnings: Salmon abuse?
A/N: Written for my darling beta
emynn's Birthday today! Happy Birthday, bb! ♥Her prompts: Alarm, cooking, smoke, salmon. *g*
BTW, The Fishmonger's Apprentice is a real book.
Beta(s):
sevfan.Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Cooking Complications
~
“Salmon?” Hermione shot Harry a worried look. “Why salmon? Don’t you think you should start with something a bit less, erm…”
Harry glared at her. “You don't think I can cook it? I mean how hard could it be?”
Hermione sighed. “Fish can be complicated, Harry. And you did say you wanted this dinner to be perfect.”
“I do.” Harry fiddled with his cup. “So far our dates have gone great, but we’re always going out to eat and then he sees me home and he’s the perfect gentleman, which is great, but at some point I want more, you know?”
“You want him to be less of a gentleman?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.
“Not exactly.” Harry coughed. “I love that he’s a gentleman and it’s not as if I want him to be a feral beast or anything—”
Hermione patted his hand. “I understand. Maybe a bit of passion wouldn’t be amiss, hm?”
“Yes!” Harry sat back in his chair. “And it’s there, Hermione. When he kisses me goodnight it’s amazing.” He sighed. “But he never wants to come in. And he's never invited me to his place. After our dates I’m so worked up that I end up having to take care of myself—”
“No need for details,” Hermione said, tone prim. “So you want to cook him the perfect dinner at your flat so that when your amazing cooking skills impress him you’re somewhere private so that passion can be free to…overtake you both.”
“Right.” Harry beamed at her. “So will you?”
“Will she what?” asked Ron, settling into the seat beside Hermione and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’d best not be propositioning my woman, Potter.”
Harry chuckled. “What you don’t know won’t hurt you, Weasley.”
Swiping Hermione’s teacup, Ron took a sip, then snagged a biscuit. “Isn’t that the truth? Does this mean the Snape talk is done, then, and we can move on to safer topics?” Shoving the entire biscuit in his mouth, he chewed quickly before grabbing another.
“Almost,” Harry said. He eyed Hermione. “And to answer your earlier question, salmon’s his favourite, so it has to be salmon. Now will you lend me your fish cookbook or not?”
“Of course,” Hermione said. “I’ll owl it over this evening so you can look through it.”
Ron blinked. “Wait, you’re asking Hermione for cooking advice? Why not ask my mum?”
Hermione stiffened. “Are you saying I’m a bad cook, Ronald?” she asked, tone low and dangerous.
Harry looked rapidly back and forth between them. “Your mum would cook it for me, Ron, and I want to do it for myself. Plus, Hermione has the largest collection of cookbooks of anyone I know.”
“Okay, right, yeah,” said Ron before turning to face Hermione. “And you have to admit, Hermione, your cooking isn’t exactly up to Mum’s.”
Hermione sucked in a breath and Harry braced himself for the explosion. “Well if it’s so bad, maybe you should move back in with your mother and have her cook for you all the time!” Hermione hissed.
As the argument escalated, Harry slowly pushed away from the table and, leaving a few Galleons as his contribution to tea, backed his way out of the restaurant. Once out the door, he sighed and, wrapping his scarf more tightly around his neck, set off for Gringotts. Looked like their weekly tea meeting was over.
~
Later that evening, Hermione’s owl arrived carrying a small bundle. After accepting it and giving the owl a treat, Harry opened it to find a shrunken book. Enlarging it, he smiled at the title, The Fishmonger’s Apprentice, and, opening it, began to read. There was an entire section on salmon that he skimmed.
Once done, he closed the book and smiled. His date with Severus was the following evening, and in his mind he saw them eating, then Severus, so overcome by the delicious meal, would kiss him. Harry would kiss back and then…
“You’re mine, Severus,” he whispered. “Mine.”
~
After he got out from work, Harry hurried away from Gringotts and towards the fish market. Luckily, there was still a decent selection, and he picked a beautiful looking slab of salmon. They even cut it into individual servings for him before wrapping it up.
Harry then stopped in several shops to pick up spices and vegetables, after which he went home and checked the clock, pleased when he saw he had over an hour to prepare for Severus’ visit.
Everything was going swimmingly until the doorbell rang. Harry had just put the salmon into the pan to sear.
“Coming!” he cried. Eyeing the salmon, he estimated he had enough time to let Severus in and say hello before doing anything else.
Severus looked wonderful in his dark Muggle coat, tall and delicious. He was carrying a bottle which he handed over as soon as Harry opened the door. “Good evening.”
Even his voice sent shivers up Harry’s spine. “Good evening, Severus,” Harry replied, relieved when it didn’t come out as a squeak. “Come in. I’m just finishing up dinner.”
Severus stepped inside, and as he passed by, Harry inhaled his scent. He swallowed hard.
“Where do you want me?’ Severus asked as he shrugged off his coat.
Harry’s mouth went dry. “What…what do you mean?”
Severus raised an eyebrow. “I mean, shall I wait for you here in the sitting room or would you rather I stay with you in the kitchen while you cook?” He handed Harry his coat.
“You want to watch me cook?” Harry smiled at the idea. It would be very domestic. “Um, sure. Let me just hang this up—”
Coat hung in the closet, Harry surreptitiously checked Severus out. He was wearing black trousers, a white button-down shirt and a beautiful green and black vest. He looked positively edible.
“Is something wrong with what I’m wearing?” Severus asked, looking down at himself. “I wore a Muggle outfit because you live in a Muggle neighbourhood and—”
“No, nothing’s wrong,” Harry said, dragging his eyes from Severus’ clothes. “And thanks for wearing something Muggle.” He smiled. “My neighbours are nosy and I’d have been subjected to questions about who the strange-looking bloke was if you’d worn robes.”
The corner of Severus’ mouth curved upwards. “Now all they’ll ask about is who the strange-looking bloke in regular clothes was.”
Harry shook his head. “More likely I’ll be asked where I found such a handsome bloke and is he my boyfriend.”
“And what will your reply be to that?” Severus asked, tone soft.
“Depends on who’s asking.” Harry stepped closer to Severus. “If it’s Mrs Mitchell across the hall I’ll be as evasive as possible, but if it’s Mrs Coker I might be more forthcoming.”
“I see.” Severus bent his head, their lips mere inches apart. “And what makes Mrs Coker so special?”
Harry’s eyes started to close as their mouths moved closer together. “She’s—”
A loud noise pierced the air and they sprung apart, both reaching for wands. “What in Salazar’s name is that?” Severus shouted.
Harry groaned and ran for the kitchen. “The salmon!”
The kitchen was filled with smoke and the Muggle smoke detector was shrieking for all it was worth. Raising his wand, Harry cast an Air-Freshening Charm and turned off the alarm. Behind him he heard Severus sigh.
Making his way through the smoke, Harry peered into the pan where he’d been cooking the salmon. It had shriveled to a third its former size and was burnt black. From the corner of his eye he saw Severus reach for the oil. “You used this to cook it?” he asked.
Harry nodded dejectedly. “Olive oil. It’s what the fish cookbook recommended. For what that’s worth.”
Severus clasped his shoulder. “It’s not the end of the world. We can always go to Angelo’s. You like their carbonara, after all.”
Harry spun to face him. “No, that’s not what I wanted for tonight. Tonight was supposed to be for—” He paused.
“What?” Severus asked, tone soft. “What was tonight supposed to be for?”
“Us!” Harry cried, sagging against the kitchen counter. “It was supposed to be for us to have an intimate dinner and then, maybe…” Harry’s voice dropped to a whisper, “…explore our passion?” He looked away from Severus, cringing at how foolish it sounded now that he’d said it aloud. “Forget it,” he muttered as the silence stretched out. “Angelo’s is fine.”
“Harry,” Severus said, sliding his hands around Harry’s waist. “Why do you think I’m not passionate about you? Are our kisses not satisfactory?”
“Our kisses are great but I want more,” Harry said. “And I thought if we were someplace private more would be, well, be more likely to happen.”
“More hasn’t already happened because I wanted you to be the one to choose this, to choose us.”
“But I’ve invited you in after dinner many times,” Harry said. “And you always refuse.”
“Because we drink over dinner.” Severus pursed his lips. “I didn’t want our first time to be confused by alcohol. In addition I’m a possessive man. Once I claim someone—”
“Possessive is okay,” Harry said, pressing closer. “I’m a bit possessive about you, too. And I haven’t been drinking tonight.”
Severus smiled. “Nor have I.”
“Then maybe we can—?” Harry gasped as he was pushed firmly against the counter by Severus’ body. Severus’ hard body. “Severus?” he moaned.
“We can,” Severus whispered, his mouth capturing Harry’s in a kiss. “We will.”
Harry felt Severus’ kisses clear to his toes, and when those long fingers slid under his shirt to caress the skin underneath, Harry threw his arms around Severus’ neck and clung.
Somehow they made it to Harry’s bedroom, shedding clothes along the way, stumbling and hitting walls as they kissed and groped one another in a bid to get closer. Harry spared a moment to be glad he’d prepared his bed with fresh sheets, and then all thought fled as Severus, naked, pressed him into the mattress.
Harry had assumed their first time would be fast and hard and he’d been prepared for that. Nothing, however, prepared him for a Severus who explored him slowly, thoroughly, who took his time to caress every part of his body, whose kisses stole Harry’s breath and every thought, and whose hands trailed pleasure wherever they went.
Soon, Harry was shuddering, gasping, arching beneath Severus in a bid to get him to move faster. But Severus was intent, pausing occasionally to stare into Harry’s eyes, and those looks seemed to delve into Harry’s soul.
“Please,” Harry whispered brokenly, his nails convulsively digging into Severus’ back.
Severus’ fingers, deep inside Harry, twisted slowly, making Harry arch and buck in response. “So beautiful,” he whispered against Harry’s mouth. “You should see yourself.”
“I’d rather…look at…you,” Harry panted, his hands moving restlessly over Severus’ shoulders, back, and arse.
After sucking a kiss into Harry’s neck, Severus shifted, rolling until Harry was astride him, legs spread wide. “You want to see me?” he murmured, slippery fingers still stretching Harry. “Then look your fill.”
Harry pressed his hands against Severus’ chest, taking in the sight beneath him. Severus’ hair was spread across the pillow, his cheeks were flushed, his eyes glittering as he watched Harry, an unreadable expression on his face.
Leaning in, Harry kissed Severus, his tongue delving into his mouth, moaning as the kiss deepened. “What do you want?” he whispered into Severus’ neck once the kiss broke.
“Ride me,” Severus growled. “Ride my cock.”
“Yes,” Harry hissed, the very idea making something clench inside him. “God yes.”
Scrabbling for the bedside table, Harry retrieved the lube, coating his fingers generously even as Severus continued to finger him. Harry would have conjured some just as Severus had earlier, but his concentration wasn’t what it should have been, so he couldn’t collect himself long enough to do it.
After liberally coating Severus’ cock with lube, Harry eased back onto it, moaning as Severus moved to help. And as Severus’ cock nudged at his hole, Harry closed his eyes, gasping at the first burn of penetration. “Fuck,” he groaned.
“Working on it,” murmured Severus.
Harry’s soft laugh became a moan as Severus’ cock pressed deeper, opening Harry slowly. As Harry sat down, taking Severus deeper, Severus’ hands grasped his hips, guiding him. Sweat broke out on Severus’ forehead. “So tight,” he gasped.
“So good,” Harry replied, rolling his hips until Severus’ cock brushed against his prostate sending shocks of pleasure up his spine. “Yes! God!”
He raised himself up, clenching his teeth as the sensation of Severus’ cock gliding out of him sent sparks to his core. As he pressed back down, Severus arched up, meeting his thrust.
They settled into a rough rhythm, Harry whimpering as Severus’ cock moved in and out of him. Every third thrust or so he hit his prostate, making Harry arch his back and cry out.
Severus was moaning, his fingers pressing firmly into Harry’s back, but when one hand moved towards Harry’s cock, Harry was lost. After only a few pumps of Severus’ hand, Harry was shouting and coming, spilling himself over Severus’ hand and stomach.
He collapsed atop Severus, panting. Severus growled something unintelligible that sounded like, “Mine,” and rolled Harry onto his back before grabbing his thighs and draping them over his shoulders.
Opening his eyes, Harry stared up at Severus, who was looming above him, fucking into him in earnest. Here was the fast, hard thrusting Harry had expected, and it was glorious. Reaching up, Harry looped his arms around Severus’ neck, pulling his face down for a kiss. The kiss was as desperate as the thrusting and Harry lost himself in Severus’ movements, revelling in the desperation he felt coming from him.
Severus’ rhythm stuttered, his hips grinding against Harry until, with a low cry, he came, shuddering in Harry’s arms, eyes clenched shut, his face contorted. He was gorgeous.
After a moment where he seemed to be suspended over Harry, Severus collapsed beside him, panting.
Harry was sore, aching in all the right places, and once he caught his breath he whispered, “I have more salmon. Shall we try dinner again?”
Severus laughed. “We may as well. I’m not in the mood to go out right now, are you?”
“No.” Rolling onto his side, Harry kissed Severus slow and deep. “I laid in supplies for breakfast, too, just in case dinner was a success.” He waited, breathless, for Severus’ reply.
Raising himself up on an elbow, Severus looked down at Harry. “Breakfast sounds lovely, Harry.”
Beaming, Harry sat up, Summoning his robes. “Brilliant! Then you stay here and I’ll see what I can do about dinner.”
Severus shook his head and sat up. “And leave you to burn more salmon? Don’t be ridiculous. You clearly need someone to keep an eye on things in the kitchen.”
And the bedroom. Harry ducked his head and smiled. “You may be a distraction. Still, I’d be glad of the company.”
And as they made dinner together and ate, Harry’s heart was singing. Severus was finally his.
~
