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"Tell me what you want."
Snape twisted his hips irritably, shuddering when the movement sent Harry's fingers sliding slickly across his hole, almost, almost, not quite --
Until he stilled his fingers. "Tell me."
Damned impertinent questions. As though it weren't perfectly obvious what he wanted. To be pounded out of his mind, fucked into a state of perfect wordlessness, freed from the continual tyranny of speech. So get on with it, if you please.
"No." Harry's voice was not without affection, but it was in no way yielding. "Tell me."
Snape turned his face away from Harry's searching gaze. The fool had got his sexual education, such as it was, from Gryffindors; he probably get some sort of sniggering schoolboy satisfaction out of hearing naughty words spoken aloud.
In his own mind, he could hear his voice indulging Harry with a recitation of his desires, bored and impatient, uttering his orders as though they were passwords: Bugger me. Fast, hard, and deep. Right. This. Minute. Even, if he must, Please.
He opened his mouth.
The words wouldn't come.
Instead, a flood of fear. Actual fear! He, who had quite literally looked Death in his scaly face! His outrage very nearly drove the unwelcome emotion out of his mind. Nearly, but not quite.
It was so dangerous. To tell someone -- to tell a Potter -- what he craved. What he needed. What could be taken away from him to punish him.
"It's all right." Harry's voice was gentle. Worse and worse. His hands on Snape were soothing and inflaming at once, stroking over what little arse he had, dipping between his legs to tease forward and backward. "I just want to hear it. You telling me what you need."
He inhaled, tense all over. Shut his eyes. Let the words fall from his mouth. "Anything. I -- more --"
"Severus." Harry's low voice in his ear, a gift -- and then another: "Please."
"In. You -- in me." A bare whisper.
He heard the intake of breath, and then Harry's weight bore down on him, Harry's cock was forcing him open at last. Pain like blood returning when the Cruciatus was lifted, the pain that informed one that one was, after all, not dead this time. "Yes," he whispered.
Harry's eyes on him were enormous, as though he'd finally realized just what he had asked, how much was at stake in this game of his. His hands were strong on Snape's sides, and his cock was hot and still as Snape's body came alive around it, and Snape closed his eyes and said what he wanted.
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September 23, 2004