|purplefluffycat (purplefluffycat) wrote,|
@ 2009-02-02 21:18:00
Severus felt desperate. The term 'sexually frustrated' did not even begin to cover it; the waking in the night, the cold loneliness, wanking until he is sore and still feeling empty and unsatisfied. He thought himself a freak. No-one should reach the age of twenty-seven and still be a virgin, after all.fungi psilocybe to intensify, and then leave to simmer for half a minute, adding the unicorn horn gradually throughout... It had to work this time, Severus thought. He had covered everything. With faintly shaking hands he filled a flagon from the cauldron and drank.
The potion bubbling in the cauldron before him should help at least a little, Severus reasoned. After six failed attempts, it had better work, anyway.
It wasn't a proper substitute for a partner, of course, but the closest he was going to find without risking the shame of a visit to one of Knockturn Alley's less reputable establishments. Not that he was a stranger to the seedy and deprived - as a child from below the bread-line and then a Death Eater such squalor was almost an old friend. The prickle of humiliation crept over his skin at even the thought of such a transaction, however. Even a whore would find him repulsive; he had been told so often enough.
Severus paused in his stirring and felt his mouth tighten into an angry sneer. Hideous, bullying children... and the brash, entitled adults they became. As far as he was concerned they were better dead, even though it was apparently near blasphemy to say so. The world was full of bloody hypocrites.
Severus schooled his breathing and made a conscious effort to banish unwelcome thoughts. The ghosts of those handsome, cruel boys would have no place here - not even the haunted memory of a girl with red hair and no kindness when it really mattered. The hordes of young hooligans he had to see day in day out in this new existence would also be decidedly absent; the same childhood cruelties replayed before his eyes, the same foolish prettiness - lithe of limb and insolent of tongue. Severus had a magnificent imagination for perversions, but how a man could find boys attractive completely eluded him. Nasty little bastards, the lot.
No, it had to be someone older, wiser, more sensible; someone who would touch him and teach him and shower him with experience and worldliness. Someone whose years made him feel less of a freak at twenty-seven and virginal. Of course, it had to be man; a man's touch was the illicit feeling he craved and would never dare to seek. That roughness, rudeness... yet also the gentle protection that he heard can come when the painful, sickening heat of young desire mellows and lets you feel something other than madness...
A pinch of belladonna, twelve shards of
Stripping down to his underthings, Horace surveyed the room before him. Four-poster bed with delightful hangings, a log-fire roaring in the grate - yes, yes, this was all looking entirely suitable.
He padded around, folding his robes, hanging his dressing gown, and checking that everything else that might prove necessary was in order. Horace was perfectly comfortable thus, with his large body; indeed, he took it as a sign of how much he enjoyed life. He was a hedonist of the truest and most honest sort and saw no point in deprivation of any kind - whether that be food, drink, travel or love; Horace was a connoisseur of them all.
And what a pretty little parcel he had before him then, stretched out placidly on the bed! Indeed, this task might not even require the case of elf-made wine he had made Albus promise for his trouble. The young man in the room was not at all like the Severus he remembered - gone was the sneer and the hunched posture, replaced by features that were striking rather than grim, and a physique that was admittedly on the scrawny side, but possessed much of the grace of those Muggle dancers in deliciously close-fitting tights.
The elves had dressed Severus in a loose-fitting nightshirt and pyjama bottoms to match. Horace stopped for a moment, considering.
In his life, he had had many, many different lovers. He had cavorted with all the other boys when they had been young and louche, barely sleeping in their teenaged dormitories in a veritable orgy of exploration; then holding wild parties in London during their Ministry apprenticeships, champagne flowing all night amid the music and lust. There had been rich, older men, keen for toothsome young flesh; foreign hopefuls, wanting to ingratiate themselves with the fashionable English youth; dancers and musicians and writers and academics, all itching to indulge and be indulged. Then, as he had grown older and more important, and his Gringott's account and waistline had both grown fat, a whole host of different opportunities had presented themselves. There were his dashing contemporaries, exquisitely turned out, every crease of their rutting expensive and perfumed; delightful young men seeking to get ahead in the wizarding world; boys from far-off lands wanting work and money; and even a few who seemed to like him just for the trademark Sluggy chuckle and repartee.
Never in his life though, had he dealt with a situation quite like this.
Horace walked along the side of the bed, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of Severus' chest in sleep. Tentatively, he extended a hand to a pale cheek, and was rewarded as Severus leaned into his touch with a soft hum. Encouraged, he continued these gentle caresses; brow, nose, jaw and neck. The last of those caused a particularly strong reaction – Severus rolled his head backwards to expose his smooth throat, causing Horace to hop onto the bed alongside him and apply talented lips in place of his fingers.
It was then that things really started to get interesting. Severus' hums turned to veritable groans, and with the taste of sweet skin on his lips, Horace found himself turning from contracted assistance to enthusiastic participant. He slid his hands under Severus' nightshirt, broad palms smoothed over sunken belly. Severus hissed at the contact and arched upwards, causing Horace's hands to move over hardened nipples and elicit yet more vocality from his pliant charge. Gosh! This boy had potential!
As Severus' shirt was removed from view, Horace marvelled at the sight of ribcage and hipbones, vaguely wondering how someone could come to be that lean. He was slightly put off his mark by such apparent frailty - he would never want to cause a lover injury - but also fascinated by the spareness, as if the lust contained in that flat belly would be all the more concentrated for it, and the little hollows around Severus' hips were beckoning him to taste within their shadows. He lapped at a nipple, causing Severus to gasp almost as if in pain, and then, feeling his own arousal growing ever stronger, banished all of their clothing with a flick of his wand.
The sight of Severus completely nude certainly did not disappoint. He was large, and perfectly erect, rosy tip pointing from a base of black curls. Horace was very tempted to take him in hand then and there, but he restrained himself – a consummate lover knows the value of exquisite timing, above all.
Therefore, Horace busied himself with Severus' elegant legs, hands traveling along their length and ghostly fingers teasing at inner thighs in a way to make Severus groan and part his limbs in silent plea – all interspersed with lingering touches to Severus' abdomen and hardened nipples. The young man's movements had by then graduated to a continuous writhe and his gasps to a low, needy keening sound. Horace was sure that had Severus been fully awake, he would have positively demanded to be touched where it most mattered, then and there.
With this in mind, Horace coated his palm in oil from the bottle he had placed by the bed, and closed his fingers around Severus. He stroked firmly in a slow, steady rhythm, knowing from years of practice that men enjoy it most when it's allowed to build; one, two, three, but then-
-Severus tensed all of a sudden, releasing his seed across his own white chest.
Horace released Severus in surprise, and dived under the covers. He had made plans for what to do when Severus came to, but that was much earlier than he had expected - assuming of course that it had done the trick. He stayed very still, eying Severus as he would a sleeping dragonling. His own sizable erection still throbbed angrily, beginning to feel decidedly cheated.
Seconds passed - possibly minutes - but Severus showed no signs of waking. Certain parts of his anatomy were making a fair attempt, however, which made Horace rather pleased. He cast a quick cleaning charm then resumed his position at Severus' side and his ministrations.
A surprisingly short time later, Severus was once again writhing upon the bedclothes and wailing with hunger. In the small part of his brain that was not clouded by lust, Horace wondered whether the Potion created such impressive recovery skills, or whether he was just forgetting the attributes of the very young and inexperienced. Either way, it was certainly a delicious sight.
Horace shifted his weight to straddle Severus' prone form, than applied his mouth to all those delightful planes and hollows of the lithe body before him. That increased Severus' reaction yet more, particularly when spread legs gave way to a broad tongue across balls and perineum, and teasing laps that climbed up his shaft. Having seen many a pushy top, and many a needy bottom in his time, Horace was left in no doubt as to Severus' true nature, and he quickly formed a theory as to exactly what would be necessary to supersede the fantasies in which Severus was trapped.
He oiled his fingers liberally, then pushed one gently against Severus – but such gentleness proved barely necessary. So this is the key thought Horace, as Severus moved back toward him, crying ever louder as he was stretched and filled, then squirming to connect ever more. When Horace was confident that Severus had been properly prepared, he took great pleasure in replacing his fingers with his liberally oiled cock at Severus' entrance and slid smoothly in to that slick heat.
And oh! It was good! Horace closed his eyes in pleasure as he pushed to the hilt, letting out a moan himself to rival Severus' cries. He then set about the serious business of fucking the delightful young man smoothly and thoroughly like the master he was, aiming true for that sweet spot within at every stroke, hands firmly holding Severus' hips as his legs fell back over Horace's shoulders.
It was glorious, simply glorious! But like so many charmed things in life, it had, eventually, to come to an end. Horace could feel himself sweating with happy exertion, building closer and closer to that delightful peak, as Severus' erection raged red and hard and his wordless cries reached full voice.
They came within seconds of one another, grunting and pumping hard, Horace's sight clouding white and his lungs devoid of breath.
He did not allow himself the luxury of a lengthy afterglow, however. As soon as he was able, Horace withdrew and cast cleaning and dressing charms upon them both. A Potion's Master as he was, Horace
had a very clear idea of when the effects of the concoction would be eliminated, and he had absolutely no intention of hanging around to suffer the aftermath.
Sure enough, Severus' eyes began to flutter open. His limbs became stiffer, muttered words escaped his lips that could have been curses... and just at the moment when he came to, Horace hopped away, securely fastened his velvet bathrobe about him and slipped out of the door - to come face-to-face with...