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Snape stood outside the the Staff Bath for a moment, listening, then pushed the door open. A familiar thatch of untidy dark hair was visible over the edge of the tub. He shut the door behind him.
"I suspected I'd find you here. Drowning your sorrows, as it were."
"Strictly speaking, my sorrows don't start until tomorrow, when the students arrive." Harry didn't raise his head from the edge of the tub.
"At which point my own are at an end." Snape transfigured his wand briefly into a long shoehorn to pry his boots off. "Although in reality I imagine that my official release from Hogwarts will simply permit me to exchange a set of familiar sorrows for a set of novel ones."
Harry snickered. "Goodbye, ignorant first-years. Hello, customers wanting to buy love potions."
"Goodbye, Potter as a near-constant visitor to my dungeon. Hello, myself as a near-constant visitor to Potter's dungeon." Snape sat down at the edge of the tub. The water lapped at his ankles, cool as the lake.
Harry took a breath and ducked under the water, staying submerged until Snape began to wonder whether perhaps he'd transformed under there. But after a moment longer, he broke the surface, panting, and turned to look at Snape for the first time. "Want in? I can warm it up for you if you like."
"No need." Actually the cool water felt pleasant on a warm day such as this.
Harry smiled when he saw Snape's feet dangling in the tub. "Told you it was too hot for boots."
"I will take fashion advice from you, Mr. Potter, when you relinquish my wardrobe and acquire some clothing of your own."
"You've got enough for two," Harry said, standing to walk closer. The water only came up to his hips. "And they smell nice."
He lifted Snape's left foot by the heel, cupping his other hand under one of the taps along the wall. Snape braced himself for some appallingly florid scent, but the soap smelled like rosemary and cloves -- an eccentric combination, but not unpleasant.
Harry soaped each of Snape's feet with great concentration, head bent and hair dripping. When he'd cleaned them both, he let them fall and began to wash his way up Snape's lower legs. "Predictable," Snape snorted, lifting his robe helpfully.
"Don't want to hit you with any more novelty than you can handle," Harry said.
He was stroking the soapy pads of his fingers behind Snape's knees with carefully calibrated pressure, too firm to tickle, too light to desensitize. Snape shifted his legs further apart. Harry's lashes fell and rose. "Did you lock the door?"
"We're unlikely to have company," he said. "Unless you mean to stay here until the Hogwarts Express arrives tomorrow."
"Filius likes to come here sometimes for strawberry bubble baths," Harry said, rubbing his thumbs in circles over Snape's kneecaps. Snape shuddered and threw a locking spell over his shoulder.
Harry smoothed his hands up Snape's thighs under his robe. "Unbutton for me?" he said. "My hands are too wet." His thumb nudged Snape's cock, and Snape shivered and began unbuttoning the lower buttons of his robe, lifting the fabric to allow Harry's hands more freedom of motion underneath.
Without looking away from Snape's face, Harry put a hand out to the taps and came back with more soapsuds, which he used to make a careful exploration of Snape's thighs. Snape undid the top button.
"Mm," Harry said, hands traveling higher. "Open it up for me?"
Snape parted the robe, not over-slowly but with dignity, baring most of his body and leaving his arms covered in dark fabric from shoulder to wrist. He leaned back on his hands and offered himself up.
"God." Harry's eyes swept over him hungrily, and his soapy hands came up to rub in the hollows of Snape's hips. The tub was deep, and Harry's head was level with Snape's chin. He leaned up and bestowed a soft, lingering kiss at the hollow of Snape's throat, and his hands, which had been moving carelessly over Snape's lower abdomen, suddenly came together in a two-handed grip on Snape's cock.
Snape gasped, and Harry raised his head and looked at him, hot-eyed and almost smiling, as he stroked him slowly. One hand wandered down over his sac, and Harry's nip nudged his knee, wordlessly asking him to open further.
"I would prefer not to have soap applied to my fundament, Mr. Potter," he murmured, his usual commanding tone marred by a catch as Harry squeezed his cock gently.
"Mm," Harry said, removing both hands. "Think that one there beside you has bath oil. Get me some?" Then Snape gasped in shock as Harry dipped up a double handful of cool water and sluiced it over his cock, rinsing away the soap. It was so unexpected that he couldn't have said whether it was good or bad, but Harry said, "You like that," and ran a cool thumb over the suddenly slippery head of his cock.
Instead of answering, Snape leaned left and touched the silver tap, which did indeed dispense bath oil. He sniffed it critically. More rosemary; he was going to emerge from this bath smelling like an evergreen forest.
" 's OK?" Harry asked, holding out both hands. Snape wrapped his own oily hands around them, rubbing gently to anoint every finger. Harry was looking at their hands, apparently forgetful of the purpose of the exercise. Snape pushed his hands downward.
"Need more," Harry said.
Snape brought his hand back positively dripping with oil. "Yeah," Harry said hoarsely -- and then, when Snape applied it to his own cock, "Oh yeah."
After only a moment, he pushed Snape's hand away and replaced it with his own more muscular grip, and his other hand smoothed down gently over Snape's sac and then moved down to tease at his opening. Snape panted for a moment, then brought back still more oil in his cupped palm, letting it dribble down over Harry's stroking, searching fingers.
Harry smiled up at him -- a happy, open smile, as though he'd made a joke -- and then speared him suddenly with a slick finger and smiled even wider at his sob of breath.
"More," Snape whispered when he could. One finger came out and two went back in, stroking and circling expertly, making Snape gasp and hunch his hips forward to get more of it, while Harry's other hand never stopped its slow motion on his cock.
"Fuck, you look good like this," Harry breathed. Snape's hands tightened on the edge of the tub. "This how you want to come?"
"Please." His voice broke in the middle of the word, and Harry's fist tightened at the sound. "Ah," Snape said, and his groan echoed off the tiled walls, and Harry was watching him avidly. "Yes -- ah -- oh, oh, oh --"
One particularly emphatic crook of Harry's fingers and he spent himself into Harry's eager hand.
Harry gentled him through the waning spasms of pleasure, and then he felt Harry's tongue touch down delicately in the center of his breastbone, and he laid his face against Harry's damp hair and listened to Harry's fast breath against his chest.
"Do you want in me?" he murmured.
Harry squirmed closer. "No," he said, "too complicated, don't want to wait that long," and Snape shed his robe and boosted himself off the edge into the water, pulling Harry closer.
Snape's hand was cool from gripping the tub's edge, and Harry's cock felt fever-hot as he shoved it blindly into Snape's grip. "Ohh," Harry wailed, "kiss me, touch me, please."
Snape spread his other hand over Harry's buttock and licked into his panting mouth. "Harry," he murmured, pulling fast at Harry's cock, and Harry gave a broken shout and came over his hand.
Harry's coordination came back as his breathing slowed, and he began to return the kiss instead of just panting against Snape's lips -- a slow, intricate kiss, delicate and warm. And then Harry bent and rinsed his hands in the water and brought them, cool and wet, to cup Snape's face and kiss him more deeply still.
"You really think I can do it?" he said after a long moment, nuzzling into Snape's neck.
"I think," Snape said, "that you will be woefully underprepared, as always. And that you will find yourself supplied with extraordinary stores of unaccountable good luck, as always." He rinsed his own hands and cupped the back of Harry's neck, using a thumb to raise his chin. "And that you will have wiser and more experienced minds at your beck and call, ready to shield you from the consequences of your own foolishness. As always."
Harry closed his eyes and kissed Snape's jaw. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it." Snape brushed his lips over Harry's ear. "You should also be heartened to recall that you have nearly a decade of teaching before any of the Longbottom-Weasley offspring are old enough to detonate any of your cauldrons."
Harry huffed against his cheek, then raised his head. "Want to come wash my hair for me?"
Snape tugged the hair in question. "Yes, Professor," he said.
- end -
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August 11, 2003