Long, slender fingers, free for once of the perpetual stains associated with preparing potions ingredients, stroked absently over the unmarred skin of his left forearm. Harry Potter had killed the Dark Lord, which consequently made the ugly mark branded on his arm vanish as well. That had been two years ago: the final battle had been fought at the end of Harry’s seventh year, when Voldemort chose to make his stand at the gates of Hogwarts, the castle itself as the prize.
Severus closed his eyes as his mind involuntarily shifted to the young man who had freed him, who had occupied his thought with unnerving frequency over the past two years. The Potions master had gradually come to know and respect the real Harry as he trained the boy privately the last three years he was in school, though the first year’s Occlumency lessons had been rocky, to say the least. His whole perception of the Gryffindor Golden Boy had gradually changed, and he had liked the shy, intelligent, and forgiving boy who wanted to be ‘just Harry.’ The teenager, however reluctant he had been to kill, had fulfilled his destiny. In a blaze of magical power even greater than Albus’, the Gryffindor had defeated the most evil wizard of the age. It had been as he fought beside Harry on that day that Severus realized he had fallen in love with his protégé.
After the battle, there had been no time to speak to Harry, he had simply rushed the unconscious young man to the hospital wing. There had been potions to be brewed immediately to treat the injured, and Slytherins who had to be accounted for in his House. Harry had been whisked away from the hospital wing to recuperate away from the chaos before the Potions master had the opportunity to speak to him. Refusing most of the accolades directed at him in the aftermath of his vanquishing the Dark Lord, Severus had seen Harry only once in the ensuing two years, at the ceremony where Severus was awarded was awarded an Order of Merlin, first class, for his services in the years-long battle against Voldemort. Harry had given a speech expressing his thanks for everything the older man had done, and then melted into the crowd.
There had been times that he had sorely wanted to track the young man down, just to see him, to make sure he was all right, to make sure he was happy, but Severus couldn’t. He had always known that the handsome teenager could never have felt anything beyond respect for his teacher, and it hurt too much to think of him happy with an attractive young witch his own age. As was his way, the Potions master had withdrawn into his private laboratory, surfacing only to teach and occasionally eat. It had taken the threat of a body bind and a portkey from Albus Dumbledore to pry him loose from his dungeons and send him on this forced vacation.
Voices from the seat behind him distracted him from his musings.
“So, Mister Evans, just what brings you to Kauai?” a young female voice asked in a flirtatious tone.
“A graduation gift from an old friend who thought I needed a bit of a vacation.”
Severus immediately recognized the rich tenor that voiced the reply. It was the same sweet voice he had heard in his dreams for the past four years, and he closed his eyes to savor it, not believing that it could be more than a daydream.
“All by yourself?” the woman’s voice was rich with disbelief. “You should be here with your true love, enjoying the magical romance of this paradise.”
Severus heard a snort, and without realizing it, held his breath. Could it possibly be?
“My true love, if you can call him that, is a sophisticated, older gentleman who has no idea how I feel!”
“How could he not realize how you feel?” The voice was curious.
”He was my teacher at school and made it very plain that I was nothing more than someone to train, er, teach. He could never have feelings for me: I am not very tall or attractive or graceful, and besides, I didn’t even know whether he was… ”
“Mahu?” asked the young lady’s laughing voice. “I think the Hawaiian word is much nicer sounding than what you English call each other. Ah, we are here!”
The van shuddered to a stop in front of an impressive array of buildings and sculpted grounds. The Potions master exited quickly, without turning around, his mind in turmoil. If that was Harry Potter, ‘Mister Evans’ indeed, then maybe all he needed was a bit of encouragement to nudge him in the right direction. Likewise, if this was the meddling old bastard’s way of telling Severus that he was aware of his feelings, and that Harry felt the same, then Severus was going to take full advantage of it.
Stepping into the lobby of the elegant hotel, Severus was greeted politely by a house-elf dressed in an island-style strip of brightly colored cloth. The diminutive creature verified his identity before escorting him to a ‘hut’ at the edge of the beach. Opening the door with a wave of his hand, the tall wizard thanked the house-elf and entered, finding himself in a combination sitting room/dining area portion of the two-bedroom cottage. The bedroom that was to be his was to his right, and if he were correct, Harry would soon be ushered into the bedroom to the left. With a wave of his hand, he closed the curtains, hiding a lovely view of swaying palm trees and flowering hibiscus bushes. The room darkened to soft shadows of gray.
Moving into his bedroom, Severus pulled his bag out his pocket and enlarged it, flicking the contents into appropriate drawers and wardrobe. Stripping down, he pulled out a pair of soft, casual shorts, and had just finished washing his face when he heard the door to the second bedroom open and the hum of voices, indicating that Harry had been escorted to his room. Combing out his hair, the Potions master took a deep breath, checked his new smile in the mirror, and moved into the darkened sitting room.
Harry Potter shut the door behind his over-enthusiastic young Hawaiian escort, whose infectious smile had hinted at more than just a desire for a pleasant stay. He leaned back against the warm wooden surface and took a deep breath of the plumeria-scented air. Removing the lei that had been draped around his neck, the young man tossed it onto the bed that dominated the room and pushed himself off the door. Whipping his shirt over his head, he used it the wipe the sweat off his chest before tossing it next to the lei.
Allowing the cool air of the room to wash over him, Harry stared at his reflection in the mirror over the dresser. His face looked tired and drawn. He had crammed a lot into the past two years, earning his certification in teaching and medical magic in half the regular time. In the past twenty-five months, he had studied day and night, working through every holiday as well as the summers to achieve his goal. Poppy Pomfrey had offered him an apprenticeship when she and Albus Dumbledore had attended his very small and very quiet ceremony at the Wizarding University of Dublin the week before. The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had also asked him to think about taking over as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
Sighing, Harry took his bag out of his pocket and Engorgio-ed it, dropping it on the floor and bending to dig out the swim trunks he’d bought that morning. This trip was a graduation present from Dumbledore, a two-week trip to the Hawaiian island of Kauai, to celebrate his twentieth birthday and to help him determine which path to pursue in the future.
The young wizard knew he had a decision to make, and he could only decide whether or not to take the apprenticeship that Poppy had offered if he resolved the internal conflicts that had plagued him since his sixth year at Hogwarts. Harry Potter, Gryffindor Golden Boy, had fallen head over heels in love with his snarky git of a Potions master, Severus Snape. He wasn’t sure if he could control his emotions, and knew that if he didn’t he would be miserable living at Hogwarts, consumed by the presence of his unrequited love. Dumbledore was deliberately giving him this opportunity, the young man reasoned. The elderly wizard had made a point of keeping the former Gryffindor informed of the Potions master’s activities and achievements over the past two years, as had the only other person who knew of his feelings, Hermione Granger. The witch had lectured him soundly at dinner the night before to either pursue the older man or move on. She and Ron had finally set the day for their wedding, and Hermione told him affectionately that if he didn’t have a date for it by end of July, she would find him one herself.
With a sigh, Harry ran a hand through his mop of blond hair. He had tried dating when he’d first started at university, going out with both men and women, but had never proceeded past a kiss or two. No one had ever aroused enough emotion in him to want anything more, and eventually he had given up, devoting all his time to study. Glancing again in the mirror, Harry’s mind still saw a scrawny, unattractive kid, rather than the slender, well-toned young man he had become. His self-image and self-confidence had never been good, and he reasoned to himself that he understood why no one could love him.
Shoving aside his thoughts, Harry kicked off his trousers and pants, then pulled on the swimsuit and moved toward the connecting door. Finding it ajar, he pushed it open and stepped into the darkened room. He barely had time to allow his eyes to adjust before a shadow detached itself from the wall. A long, lean form pressed him back against the cool wall, and the door swung closed behind him as if pushed by an invisible hand. A wave of panic pulsed through him before his mind registered the caress of slender fingers along the side of his torso, and his body began to react to the touch. His skin tingled where the fingers brushed against him in feather-light strokes.
“You have grown,” a silky voice purred in his ear as a decidedly male body fit itself to fit his, “but you still smell just as good as you always did. So why are you using your mother’s maiden name, I wonder, and what have you done to that glorious mop of hair and the emerald eyes that have plagued my dreams for so many years?”
“Ch…charm…” he stammered. Knowing in his very soul who this was, trying to suspend his disbelief, he wordlessly reversed the spell that had disguised his hair and eyes.
“Ah,” the voice sighed, and one of the hands made its way up to tangle in the mop of raven hair. “It has been so long, Harry, so very long.”
Harry felt as if he’d stumbled into one of his fantasies. Groaning, he brought his arms up to encircle the trim waist, one hand splaying between the man’s shoulder blades, the other resting on the flare of a hip. He widened his stance to better accommodate their aligned bodies and pressed the other man into the cradle of his hips. Lips whispered across his ear, the tip of a tongue laved at his throat, and he was instantly hard. With an involuntary jerk of his hips, Harry found he wasn’t the only one.
“Please, let me taste you.” The words were whispered against his lips, and Harry moaned his acquiescence.
The soft, full lips under his were sweet, and Severus trailed the tip of his tongue along the seam of them, begging for entry. They yielded, and he cupped the back of the younger man’s head, angling their faces perfectly, before devouring. The sweetness and heat was better than he could have dreamed, and the intensity of the feelings coursing through him as a result was enough to make him tremble. He felt himself enfolded into a strong embrace, felt an answering tremor in the other man’s body. Groins pressed together began a slow slide against each other, almost of their own accord. After so many years of longing and fantasies, the Potions master knew he could not take much more of the sensual assault.
Wrenching his lips away, he dropped both hands to grip the firm arse and still its movement. “No,” he said hoarsely, trailing his lips down the line of Harry’s jaw. “After waiting this long, I want everything to be perfect!”
Stepping back to hold the younger man at arm’s length, Severus waved a hand, instantly filling the room with dazzling sunshine. Blinking rapidly while his vision adjusted, he looked down into emerald eyes and was delighted to find them out of focus, glazed with passion. A slow smile curved appeared as his gaze swept down the slender, well-toned chest and trim waist to see the burgeoning erection that short swim trunks did nothing to hide. Reaching between them, he ran a fingertip from the base of the impressive bulge to the glistening mushroom head that had escaped the stretchy cloth.
“Very nice, Mister Potter,” he said in a low, silky voice, watching his former student shudder and involuntarily thrust against his fingers.
“Prof…Sever…ughhh…” Harry moaned as the fingers continued to trail along his sensitive flesh, before tucking him into the top of his trunks.
“Severus,” the voice directed, as he was tugged gently away from the wall.
Following in a daze, his eyes were drawn to the front of the older wizard’s shorts, where an answering hardness tented the fabric. A hand led him to the couch, where he was urged to sit; the taller man settled next to him, one hand still wrapped around Harry’s own. Harry took a moment to drink in the sight of his love. Severus was thinner than he remembered, but the obsidian eyes were just as fierce. Without thinking, Harry stretched out an unsteady hand to trace the arch of a cheekbone. He brushed back a strand of raven hair, tucking it behind an elegant ear. Following the line of the older man’s jaw, he could feel his fingertips tingle as he trailed the down the slender throat to rest his hand palm down over the other man’s heart.
“Severus,” he breathed, and watched as the older wizard closed his eyes at hearing his name on Harry’s lips, “I don’t understand; what are you doing here?”
“It would appear that I am on the same enforced vacation you are, courtesy of a melding old man.” The affection in Severus’ voice was genuine, and Harry smiled at the mental image of Severus Snape being dragged bodily out of his dungeons and packed off to Hawaii.
“Professor Dumbledore has offered me a position at Hogwarts, and this vacation was his gift for completing my studies early.” Harry supplied, looked down to where their hands were still entwined.
Severus studied the nervous action and body language. Watching the younger man shift beside him, he realized that Harry still thought this was some kind of a game, that Severus might still reject him.
“Harry?” Haunted green eyes lifted to meet his, and he made a crucial decision. “I have been attracted to you for longer than I care to admit, and have been in love with you since your sixth year, though I didn’t realize it until much later.”
A gasp met his words, and the older man tightened the hold he had on Harry’s hand.
“Whatever decision you are contemplating, I want you to be aware of my feelings. If this is something you do not want, simply tell me and I will not bother you again.”
There was no doubt as to the sincerity of the words or the surge of emotions that the stoic Potions master allowed to flow through the fathomless eyes, and Harry felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. He had been such a fool! Those gorgeous onyx eyes began to harden as his silence lengthened, and Harry panicked, forcing words past the constriction in his throat.
“I ran from you, from Hogwarts, after the final battle, Severus,” he whispered and he could feel the hot prickle of tears at the corners of his eyes. “I never expected to survive Voldemort’s defeat, you see, never allowed myself to dream of a future, of anything but the task I had been destined for. When I awoke in the hospital wing and realized that I had lived, I knew the last thing you deserved, after all you had been through, was to put up with a love-sick teenager, especially one that you could barely tolerate.”
Tugging the younger man against him, Severus closed his eyes against the anguish he heard in Harry’s voice. They had a great deal of past history to address if they wanted a relationship to work, and they needed to do that before succumbing to the pull of their desires. With a silent Accio, Severus summoned a vial of shimmering blue potion from his bag. The vial smacked into his hand, and Severus immediately thumbed off the top, swallowing half of its contents before handing it to Harry. The younger man drank it without question, trust evident in his eyes, and silently handed the empty vial back.
“Sun protection potion,” the Potions master told him huskily, extending a hand. “Shall we walk on the beach and talk?”
The intensity of the sun was tempered by the cool trade winds. Strolling barefoot in the wet sand, waves licking at their feet, the two wizards talked softly. Eyes hidden behind dark glasses, their arms brushing every so often, Harry told the taller man about his life in the last two years. Severus listened intently, his face relaxed, his mouth occasionally curling into a half smile as his companion relayed the misadventures of the Boy –Who –Lived Again. The long stretch of private beach was sparsely occupied, mostly by couples of various pairings, a few singles, and one very amorous trio, whose hands and mouths were well occupied, oblivious to any observers.
Feeling the warm sand under his feet, enjoying the lap of the water around his ankles, Harry listened to the loneliness that colored Severus’ quiet summary of the events in his life since the final battle. Enhanced as it was by only the rare student with a true talent for potions and advances in his personal research, like the improvements he had made in the Wolfsbane Potion, Severus was the first to admit that his life was sorely lacking. Reaching down, Harry captured his hand and interlaced his fingers with the slender ones, making pleasant jolts of sensation race through them both.
Once their tales were told, the pair continued their stroll, walking in a comfortable silence to the end of the beach, which butted up against an old lava field and became a section of craggy coastline. Stopping suddenly, Harry turned and wrapped his arms around the trim waist, standing ankle deep in the warm waves. Looking up into the shuttered face, he stroked his fingertips lightly over the boney ridges of Severus’ spine. Strong arms slid around his shoulders, gently tugging him forward until his was pressed fully against the Potions master, whose stoic look softened. Harry gave in to temptation and placed open-mouthed kisses along the warm throat, his tongue tentatively tasting the elegant column. He felt Severus gasp, felt long fingers slide into his hair to cup the back of his head. With a smile, Harry pressed closer and began to explore the soft skin more thoroughly with his lips and tongue.
The sensations racing through Severus were so intense that he found it hard to breathe. With a groan, he tilted the former Gryffindor’s head back and swooped down to capture the lips tormenting him. Ruthlessly, he plundered the innocence he found, drawing moans from Harry’s throat. By the time the need for oxygen forced their lips apart, both were achingly hard and panting, and Severus leaned his forehead against the younger man’s trying to regain some semblance of normalcy.
An errant wave broke nearby, drawing a startled shout from Harry as he took the brunt of the cool water against his heated flesh. With an evil smirk, the ex-Death Eater grabbed him by the upper arms and tossed the young Savior into the swell. Sliding easily underneath the water, Harry broke the surface, shaking the salt water out of his collar-length hair. He pulled his glasses off to shake away any remaining drops of water; sliding them back on, Harry was shocked to see Severus Snape standing waist deep in the Pacific, hands on hips, his head thrown back, laughing.
In that moment, Harry knew he could not live without the man, snarky git that he was. As the certainty of his feelings settled over him, the realization both thrilled him and scared him to death. Pushing off the sandy bottom, he swam lazily toward the surf line, a whispered spell kept his spectacles in place. Bobbing in the swell, he contemplated the emotions swirling through him. His decision was a simple one now that he knew he actually had a chance with the sexy Slytherin. He intended to pursue the man.
Strong arms slid around his waist and long legs gently tangled with his. They treaded water for a long moment, and Harry smiled as his nerve endings sang at the feel of the body pressed against his.
“I believe we have unfinished business, Mister Potter,” a velvet voice purred in his ear.
Easing apart, the pair swam back to the beach. The sun and breeze dried them as they walked hand in hand back down to their cottage. Silently Harry followed Severus up the three steps to the lanai attached to the larger bedroom, entering through the large sliding glass doors.
“Shower?” the older man asked quietly as he striped off his shorts.
Harry’s eyes hungrily followed the twin alabaster globes that comprised the sweetest arse he’d ever seen. He quickly kicked off his swim trunks and followed him into the shower stall, where the taller man stood facing away, head ducked under the spray. Drawn, despite his inherent shyness, Harry smoothed a hand over the firm flesh, feeling the taut muscle underneath. Severus straightened and turned around, and the younger man devoured the sight of the long, thick cock rising out of the nest of tight black curls and the heavy sac underneath.
The Slytherin felt his body clench at the hunger in those beautiful emerald eyes; a heartbeat later he was desperately kissing those full lips. A hand stroking through his hair calmed him, and Severus eased back, gentling the kiss to worship the ravaged mouth. He could feel the tingle of magic every place their flesh rubbed, and sighed in pleasure. He reached for the soap and began to lather his hands. Straightening, he gently turned the younger man, positioning him to gently wash the lightly tanned back. Harry braced himself against the wall and spread his legs so that Severus could stand between them. Firm strokes moved down the plane of toned muscles. Dropping gracefully to his knees, Severus washed one leg and then the other, lingering until Harry squirmed. With soapy hands, Severus kneaded the arse cheeks, which elicited a moan. Swiping his fingers down the cleft and across the puckered entrance, he anchored the suddenly moving hips with one hand, using the other to rinse the soap away. Spreading the cheeks with gentle fingers, he leaned in and nuzzled his nose against the ring of muscle, breathing in the coconut scent of the soap and the essence of Harry. Swiping his tongue across the ring, Severus tugged the hips closer to him for better access. If his mouth had not been occupied, he would have smirked when Harry began to babble incoherently.
Suspecting that Harry was close to losing control, Severus planted a kiss on each cheek and turned him around, an erect penis nudging his nose as he did. The Slytherin stood to shampoo the raven hair and lather soap down Harry’s torso, his fingers brushing nipples and navel on the way. Sinking to his knees once more, he gently washed and rinsed the burgeoning erection and balls. Yielding to temptation, Severus drew the velvety head into his mouth, easing the length in until his nose was buried in the nest of black hair. One hand softly rolled the balls in their sac, and he could feel them pull up just before Harry whimpered, exploding in his throat. Severus felt his own forty-year-old body lurch, and without a touch, he climaxed.
Harry slumped against the shower wall, feeling like a wrung-out flannel. Severus stood slowly, kissing him softly before quickly washing himself and shutting off the shower. Feeling the drying spell that the older wizard cast, Harry allowed himself to be led to the large bed and he climbed in. Severus slid in beside him, settling Harry against his side before kissing him softly.
“There is a twelve hour time difference, love, try and get a bit of a nap,” the older man told him.
Harry blinked up at him, feeling warm, safe, and sated. “Sev’rus? I love you.”
Pressing a kiss into the cap of silky hair, Severus smiled. “And I love you, Harry.”
The next few days were spent talking, swimming, and basking in the sun. The two men explored both the island and each other, sleeping in each other’s arms every night. Harry had been apprehensive about the lack of desire on the Potions master part until Severus had explained to him that he felt their relationship too important to hurry into lovemaking. There was plenty of time for that, and the older wizard pinned him with a glare as he told Harry that he had no intention of taking his virginity against the wall in the shower. Smiling at the memory of their shared shower, Harry nodded his agreement.
The morning before his birthday, Harry awoke to an empty bed and a note on his pillow explaining that Severus had something to attend to that morning. A feeling of happiness came over Harry as he pulled on his swimming trunks and walked out into the bright sunlight to take a morning swim. The older wizard had mentioned his birthday last night, and for the first time in his life, Harry anticipated receiving a birthday present from someone. Ron and Hermione always remembered, and Dumbledore never missed sending him a card, always addressing it to ‘Harry Evans.’ Anything mailed to ‘Harry Potter’ was received and processed by a company Harry had hired after he left Hogwarts to deal with the fan mail the Savior might receive. Money and gifts were funneled into a foundation set up by Harry’s solicitor and administered by his surrogate mum, Molly Weasley, to help support people in need.
Familiar fingers soothing cool lotion on his tanned back roused him from a doze that afternoon, and Harry had to smile at the instant arousal he felt just from the older man’s proximity. Rolling over lazily, he laid back and encouraged the Potions master to continue his ministrations, loving the feel of those strong fingers on his skin. His face was cupped, and thumbs brushed lotion across his cheeks and nose, then his mouth was taken in a searing kiss. Opening his eyes, Harry saw Severus kneeling beside him, clad in fine linen slacks, a light blue short-sleeve shirt baring his unmarred forearms.
Sitting up, Harry reached up to tug the older man down beside him on the mat. Once he was seated, Harry bestowed a slow, thorough thank-you kiss.
“Have you eaten yet?” the Slytherin asked.
“I had some fruit mid-morning,” Harry replied with a smile, his darkened glasses sliding down his nose. “How about you, are you hungry?”
Severus slowly unbuttoned his shirt, letting it flap in the gentle breeze. He shook his head at Harry’s questions, dropping his eyes away from the beautiful face and bewitching smile. The way his stomach was churning, he would not be able to eat a thing. Bloody hell, he thought as he ran a hand through his hair. Glancing up, Severus saw that Harry was frowning, watching him carefully.
“Severus,” the former Gryffindor asked softly, “did…did something happen?”
The insecurity in the young man’s voice shook Severus from his anxious thoughts, and he settled beside Harry, taking one of his hands in his own.
“Have you made a decision on whether you will accept Albus’ offer, Harry?”
Harry looked at the nervous man sitting beside him, and answered careful. “I was going to send him an owl telling him that I would like to accept his offer.”
Severus nodded his head, a small smile curving his lips. “I would like to inquire as to whether you would be amiable to accepting an offer to join with me in a union of…”
The Potions master faltered as Harry cocked his head to the side and shot him a questioning look.
Severus sighed, and pressed a kiss to the palm of the hand he held. “I love you, Harry; will you bond with me, tonight?”
Of all the things that Harry might have dreamed would come out of that mouth, a marriage proposal was not one of them. He was utterly dumbfounded that his dearest dream was coming true. Stunned, he continued to stare at the older man for such a long time that Severus took his silence as rejection. Harry could see the face slacken and the Potions master’s mask start to slide over the features. Without a second thought, Harry launched himself at the man he loved, straddling his lap as he began to kiss every bit of the man he could reach.
“Really, Potter, a simple yes would do,” came the snarky response. But Harry noticed that he made no move to stop his attentions.
At midnight that night, Harry stood on the beach, barefoot and wearing nothing but the traditional male island costume. Severus was clad in the same banana leaf skirt, and managed to make it look elegant, Harry thought enviously. The local celebrant witch chanted softly in the melodious language of the islands. The coconut twine that bond their left hands loosely together glowed golden as the two bound their hearts, souls, and lives together; their wedding rings (male’apo) glowed gold for a moment as well. A flash of warmth flowed through him as he glazed into the obsidian eyes that glowed with love, and he felt a new bond open to share Severus’ feelings and thoughts. He was vaguely aware of the continuing words from the celebrant, but he only recognized two of them: Hali was his name in Hawaiian, and O’olea was the closest they could come to Severus.
A kiss sealed their commitment and ended the ceremony. After they accepted the ho’omaika’i (congratulations) of the celebrant and her two assistants on their male’ana (marriage), the two men made their way back to their cottage, relieved to finally be alone.
“Severus,” Harry sighed as he was wrapped in strong arms and his lips were claimed in a soft kiss.
The ceremonial costumes were left at the threshold of the bedroom, and Harry found himself swept up, then gently lowered to petal-strewn sheets. It was as if one of his fantasies had come to life as Severus stretched out beside him, fingers stroking his face.
“Happy birthday, my love,” his husband whispered before taking his lips in a searing kiss.
With fingers and lips, Severus began to worship his husband’s body, wondering how he’d been lucky enough to have his love reciprocated. First suckling at an earlobe, he then trailed down the slender throat and licked at his Adam’s apple, smirking when Harry fisted his hands in the sheets. As his mouth latched onto a hardened nipple, the young man arched up with a shout, and Severus calmed him, stroking a hand through his hair before switching to the other nipple. When he felt it had received enough attention, he traced a line down the sternum, tonguing the shallow navel before following the arrow of hair to bury his nose in the nest of dark hair. After trailing his lips up the sensitive vein on the underside of the penis, Severus licked the leaking tip.
Sitting back on his heels, he summoned a small vial. It contained specially brewed coconut oil, laced with a relaxant and a numbing agent, the product of his morning activities. Severus then urged Harry into a reclining position, shoving pillows behind him.
“I want you to do to me exactly what I do to you, all right?”
Harry nodded, not sure if his voice would work, as Severus coated both their fingers and straddled his lap. The first finger breeched him slowly, and he did his best to relax, concentrating on mimicking the older man’s actions. Tingles of magic originated every point of contact, and by the time he had followed Severus’ actions and added a second and then a third finger, he was babbling at the sensations that flooded him. He involuntarily curled his fingers and brushed against a small nub inside his mate, and it was Severus’ turn to moan. When the Slytherin did the same thing to him, the jolt of pleasure was almost too much.
Harry felt Severus shift, removing his fingers, and let his own hand fall to the bed. He bit his lip to distract himself when he felt a firm hand slick the oil on to his erection. Still, he was completely surprised when Severus crawled up his body and positioned himself over his erection. Slowing sinking onto Harry’s cock, he took his husband’s lips in another searing kiss.
Tight heat surrounded him slowly, and Harry held his breath as his husband impaled himself. As Severus began to rock back and forth, his eyes rolled back in his head and lights exploded behind his eyes as his climax ripped through him. Harry was vaguely aware of being gently cleaned and gathered in strong arms, resting there until his breathing returned to normal.
Turning his head, Harry pressed a kiss on sweat-dampened skin, his tongue darting out to taste the slightly salty throat, his hand trailing down to stroke a nipple. Severus moved against him, his erection hard and throbbing against his hip.
“Careful, love, I am on the edge,” the silky voice whispered against his hair. That was the only warning Harry received before the older man moved once again to take control.
Harry tensed as the blunt head started to breech him, only to relax as Severus petted his hair and kissed him again. Drawing his legs up toward his chest, Harry took several deep breaths; the feeling of being filled was uncomfortable, but not painful. As his mate slowly slid in until he was fully sheathed, Harry concentrated on the new sensations flooding through him. Severus stopped, gently pulled Harry’s legs down so he could loop them around his waist, and braced himself on one hand as he stroked the younger man’s wilted erection. Stirring under him, Harry pushed against him, urging the older man to move as their combining magic tingled within him.
The tightness and heat gripping him were incredible. Severus leaned down to capture Harry’s lips, then started to thrust gently, not wanting to hurt his mate. Harry moved restlessly beneath him, making keening sounds in his throat as Severus move faster, thrusting harder. Changing his angle, Severus brushed his prostate, and Harry gasped, ripping his mouth free to scream the older man’s name as he climaxed again. Thrusting once, twice, a third time, Severus roared as he emptied himself into his husband. With this completion, their new bond opened fully, flooding each with the other’s feelings. They lay in awe, savoring the sensation, their sated bodies entwined, until sleep claimed them.
Somewhere over the northern Atlantic, an albatross winged its way toward Scotland, bearing a scroll of parchment, a brightly colored hibiscus flower wrapped inside.
Dear Professor Dumbledore,
I would like to accept both positions you offered me; I will be happy to split my time between apprenticing as a mediwizard and teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. At the end of the school year, maybe you would assist me in deciding which career best suits me.
There is no need to prepare rooms for me, as I will be making my own living arrangements.
Sincerely, Harry Potter
P.S: Mahalo for the best birthday present I have ever received!