The Space Between Failing and Falling • Snarry •

Chapter 14: Explorations and Epiphanies

Harry raises his eyebrows and smirks a little as he tugs his boxers off.

Severus's throat bobs as he takes in every perfect inch of the man laid out before him, and then kicks off his boots and sits against the headboard.

"Come here," Severus murmurs. He positions Harry between his legs, back pressed against his chest, and grazes the crook of Harry's neck with his teeth. "Touch yourself," Severus commands. "And be slow."

By the light of the candelabra, his skin glows gold, and there's a glitter of sweat on his sternum. Harry leans his head back against Severus's shoulder so he can gaze heatedly into Severus's eyes.

His chest hair is dark yet fine, and there's a trail leading to his cock. It's thick and erect, and a bead of precum glistens on the tip. Without question, it's the most erotic vision he's ever seen.

"Pretend I'm not here," Severus says against the shell of his ear.

Harry makes a loose circle with his forefinger and thumb, and slowly slides the ring over the slick curve of his cockhead. "Impossible, not even going to try." He fixes his gaze on Severus's ugly face rather than his own body, which is quite absurd, and then tangles the fingers of one hand in Severus's hair. The hairs on the back of Severus's neck stand on end.

"Tell me what you like, and where you do it," Severus says. "When you're alone and pleasuring yourself." Harry looks downwards, and Severus catches his chin. "Don't be shy."

"Um, I normally do it in the shower." He sucks on his lip before continuing, "And it's quick and rough... My mental picture of you can't match up to the real thing."

"Would you like to be quick and rough, when it's our first time?" Severus murmurs.

Harry is still stroking himself loosely and slowly. His gaze flickers to Severus's mouth. "No," he breathes. "I want it to be slow. I want to savour every inch. And you will be slow, because I've been so patient. Haven't I?"

"Yes," Severus says, "you've been so good." There's a groan as Severus keeps his lips to Harry's shoulder and drags his fingernails up his sides.

"And I'll be able to hear the sound of your voice, not just in my—mm—imagination," Harry babbles, "I can't wait to see you when I come and you know I want you more than anything in the world."

At the feel of fingers raking through his hair, Harry sighs and flops his head to the side.

He drops his mouth in a line of kisses from Harry's strong shoulder along to his neck, and breathes in his scent. "I could look at you all day and never tire of you," Severus purrs into Harry's ear, who groans and wraps his whole hand around his cock. "That's it. Very good."

The sight, sound and smell are all torture. Harry arches his back but continues his gentle pace. It gets even worse when Harry wriggles his lovely rear against him, and says, "Oh, you turn me on so much when you moan in my ear." Harry smirks and caresses Severus's jaw. "Just look at your face. That's an expression I haven't seen before."

Severus's forearm tingles, and he bites his tongue to keep his composure.

In response to this deliberate torment, and his own aching hardness, he kneads the insides of Harry's thighs. "What else do you think about?"

"Your lips," Harry answers, his eyes glazing over. "And the look in your eyes as you fall apart when I—nngh—"

It's addictive, the feeling of Harry turning into putty in his arms when he forcefully presses his lips into the long column of his bared throat. Severus can't help but imagine being buried deep inside him, so warm and so tight, being the sole cause of his pleasure. Instead, he tastes the sweat of his neck, bites down, rolls a nipple between his fingers, anything to draw out more gasps, thrills, shudders.