Chapter 10: Won't Trust the Air With Secrets

Chapter Text

Sudsy water sloshed over the sides of the tub as Harry fucked himself on Severus's cock. Harry's hands were grasping the edges of the tub behind Severus, while Severus's own struggled to maintain hold of his hips, skin too slippery for purchase. He stared down where their bodies joined, roaming possessively over the planes of his stomach and chest. No womanly curves here, but sharp edges of an athlete and a man. The toned chest, the wiry black hair trailing down his navel, the jutting red cock, none of it would have been attractive on anyone but Harry. Severus could not help but love and crave every inch of the man on top of him.

Severus pressed his feet hard against porcelain, bucking his hips upward, drawing a sharp cry from the other wizard's throat. This was them at their best, surrendering to demands of the flesh. This was what they knew. The auror impaled himself urgently, gasping at every push downward. Severus bit irresistibly at the shapely jaw tempting him.

"Say something," Harry groaned.

Severus pushed his face up, pressing his forehead to Harry's. Green eyes, hazy with lust, gazed into him. "Do you know what I love, Harry?"

"What?" he gasped.

"Being inside of you," Severus purred. "You're always so tight, so hot for me." Green eyes fluttered shut, teeth biting into lower lip. "Look at me." Obediently, the green returned. "You were made for me. Every centimeter of you was built for my pleasure."

"Fuck," Harry blurted, movements becoming erratic. Severus gripped him hard, pulling him down flush against him, humping his hips up, pressing himself firmly, slowly in and out of his lover. Harry's arms moved to encircle his neck.

"I want to crawl inside of you, body and soul," Severus crooned into his ear. Harry trembled in his arms, moaning continuously. His voice held power over the auror; Severus had never understood, but he wielded it to his best advantage. "You're mine, Harry. Wherever you go, whatever you do, every part of you belongs to me."

"Yes, yes, yes," Harry chanted, going still against him as his cock jerked against Severus's stomach, erupting between them. Severus grunted as the channel around him tightened, pulsing around him, pulling his own orgasm from him before he was ready.

The water settled calmly around them as they rested against each other. Severus closed his eyes, lazily trailing fingers up and down Harry's spine. Harry kissed lightly where his face rested against his chest. The night sounds of grasshoppers and frogs outside filled the room where their cries had once drowned them out.

He had been readying for a shower when Harry arrived after work. With a sly grin, the boy suggested a shared bath, which Severus could hardly refuse. It was for the best; he intentionally worked late to avoid dinner and dessert, sharing perhaps a glass of wine before retiring to bed. For days he'd avoided unpleasantness by fucking Harry to sleep.

"Are we going to avoid talking about this forever?" Harry asked after a while. The bath water was cold and the bubbles dispersed.

"There is nothing to say," Severus sighed, rubbing his temples. Thankfully Harry did not lift himself, instead continuing to rest against him.

"There's plenty to say," Harry said quietly. "Is this all there is to us? The sex?"

Severus gently pushed Harry away from him. Harry sat up and scooted back to the other end of the tub, watching him sadly. Severus didn't dare look at him. The kicked puppy look was more than he could bear. Severus disliked being affected so by the emotions of others.

The sex was all there had ever been between them, all there could have been. From the start, Severus hadn't dared wish for more, though at the time he might have. Harry and Ginny had been on the path to divorce in those days. For weeks Harry was his, and his alone, sharing him and his life with no one else. Life had taught him that he never got to keep what was precious and good, never having what he wanted most. When Harry informed him he would be reconciling with Ginny, he hadn't been surprised. Heartbroken, yes, but not surprised.

"I want to try," Harry said, sensing Severus would not respond. "I want to see what this can be."

"It can't be anything," Severus said, tone dull and tired. Harry pulled his legs back as Severus stood, stepping out of the bath and drying himself on a soft black towel.

"You don't know that," Harry argued, shifting around to lean over, arms resting on the edges of the tub.

"I do," Severus snapped. "Let's pretend, for a moment, that you were so inclined to divorce your wife. I have nothing to offer you."

"You have a lot to offer."

"I don't. Not to you," Severus snapped. "I can give you a hard fuck when you're panting like a whore." Harry flinched. "I don't date, Potter."

His life had been his own since it began. The marriage between his parents had never been one to model. Lily had captured his heart, carrying it in her pocket as she wed his sworn enemy. Her death shattered him. His commitment to the war effort, his promises to Dumbledore, stole his ambitions and held him hostage in a role he never wanted. Fate had taken an unpleasant boy and crafted him into a cruel man. No one between Lily and Harry had captured his interest. The only release of sexual urges took place in dark bars with equally desperate women.

What did he know of relationships? Severus was too old, now, too set in his ways to accommodate a partner. Efficiently he dressed himself in his plain black pajamas. Maybe he loved Harry; maybe Harry loved him. It wasn't enough. The deepest desires of his heart would never fix them, would never make the pieces fit.

The very thought of it frightened him, though he refused to acknowledge it.

"You were dating Esther," Harry spat petulantly as he finally stood, drying off on a spare towel. "Or are you still?"

Severus hadn't thought of her in days. Even at work he'd avoided her, though unintentionally. He threw himself into his brewing, into his research, wanting to deprive Harry of time to have this very conversation.

Now he thought of Harry's interruption of their last meeting, the envious fury blazing like green fire in his face. The biting words, the possessive clutching, evidence of his want. Severus reveled in it. Even then he'd sensed the ready weapon in hand, and now chose to make use of it once more.

"Esther is more worthy of my effort," Severus sneered. Towel wrapped low around his hips, Harry advanced angrily. Hand shooting out, he grabbed the boy's hair and held his head back. "She has more to offer me than you do, boy. You provide a nice variety, but you cannot fulfill my needs. You lack," here he flicked one exposed nipple. Harry snatched his wrist, crushing it hard in his grip, "what whets my appetite. You lack her soft breasts and her wet cunt," here, Harry's free hand grasped the front of his nightshirt, "and even if you had them you would lack her perspicacity." Severus laughed rudely at the furrow of brows. "It means she's intelligent, you stupid child." The glitter of tears in those eyes, crushing his heart even as it urged the dark, gluttonous being within. "It appears you lack even her composure."

"You're right," Harry croaked, pushing him away. Severus loosened his grip before he pulled out hair. "This would never work."

Harry Disapparated, abandoning the auror robes he'd arrived in. Severus picked up the scarlet robes, folding them neatly, breathing deeply, using the familiar motions to ease his rattled nerves. The folded garment he set aside as he wished he could set aside his regret.

There was only one cure for that.

"I'm sorry to turn up like this," Harry said, tugging at the borrowed nightshirt he wore. It was a little loose on him, but that suited him just fine.

"I'm just glad it was me answering the door and not Hannah," Neville chuckled. "I don't need you stealing my wife." Here Neville winced. "Sorry, mate."

Harry shrugged, though the comment stung. Neville found a spare blanket, draping it over the couch, then transfigured the stolen towel into a pillow. Like an idiot, Harry had left without his wand or his robes. He would retrieve them in the morning once Severus left for work, if he didn't have the decency to owl them.

"Thanks," Harry said, nodding to the set up. "I didn't want to be alone in that house tonight."

"Sure, anytime," Neville nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry considered this. Hannah and Neville were good friends, better than he deserved, to offer so much aid in his time of need, and holding their tongues all these years. Despite the knowledge held by the Longbottoms, he and Ginny did not make a habit of confiding in them. A matter of pride, perhaps.

The few times he had spoken to Neville about this mess, it was always in regards to Ginny. He never actually spoke about his conflicting emotions for Severus. Only once had the man entered their conversations, and it had been Neville to bring him up.

It was after a fight with Severus after which Harry had turned to his friends. Going to Ron and Hermione might be tempting would they not wonder what was bothering him. Neville would understand, Harry thought, even if he didn't say anything. He wouldn't feel the need to pretend. Neville knew of the struggles in his marriage, knew of his attraction to Severus. Harry didn't think words would be required. Neville accepted his presence, abandoning garden work to brew tea.

"Fight with Ginny?" Neville asked, no presumption in his manner. If Harry changed the subject, Neville would entertain him. He didn't have to talk, if he didn't want to, but he could.

"Not Ginny," Harry explained, content to leave it at that. There was no need to mention his lover, but his friend would understand, or so he'd thought.

Neville scoffed, shaking his head. Harry frowned. "Why can't you leave him alone, Harry?"

"Me?" Harry was shocked. "He's the one-"

"I don't care about that," Neville said, pushing away his own tea. He frowned seriously at Harry. "Are you sleeping with him again?"

Harry's mouth worked uselessly, panicked and unsure of how to respond. Finally he slumped his shoulders and dropped his gaze, mixing more honey into his tea to busy his hands.

"Damn it, Harry," Neville swore. "What is wrong with you?"

"You don't understand," Harry muttered.

"You're damn right, I don't understand! You have a loving wife at home. Ginny deserves better than this," Neville told him seriously. "I really thought better of you."

The worst part of the whole interaction had been the disappointment in Neville's voice at the end. Shame had burned him then, soaking in it as he sipped his too sweet tea. Neville didn't drink his own, instead fiddling with the cup or stirring the cooling liquid. Eventually Hannah entered, two year old Mabel on her hip. Both witches grinned at him. Hannah used her free hand to grab her wand, magically slicing and serving lemon poppyseed cake to both wizards.

"What do you see in him, anyway? He's as nasty as he's always been," Neville asked as Hannah fixed Mabel some juice. Hannah's pleasant expression faded as she glanced between them.

Aware of the audience, Harry nibbled on the cake, considering whether or not to speak. Severus's words were thorns piercing his heart, sharp even now, hours later. He would never be charming, or even kind. He was as ugly on the inside as he was on the outside, he thought spitefully. What did that say about him? It embarrassed him, he had to admit, how enthralled he was by their ex professor. Let alone being so deeply in love with him.

"Ginny and I share something special," Harry explained. He poured more tea for himself and held the hot cup between his palms. "We're partners. It's like we're one person, sometimes, the way we move together, work together, one well-oiled machine. I could not ask for a better wife, or a better mother for my children." It was a punch to the gut, knowing she was at home now, alone with two children under the age of five, two rambunctious boys. Under the pretense of working an extra shift, he had gone to Severus, throwing himself into the man, ending in a spectacular blowout. Harry barely remembered what had started it all. A comment about the children, he thought, but he couldn't be sure.

"But Severus…he understands me. In ways even Ginny can't. In ways no one can," Harry confessed. "He's inside of me. He's in my gut." Briefly it crossed his mind, how the words might be taken, but neither Hannah or Neville laughed. They were listening intently. "He's always there. Even when I stay away from him, I can feel him there. It's a tether; it pulls at me. I…I could resist, if I wanted, but I don't want to. I want to…" He flushed here, realizing how he sounded. How pathetic it was. "But I know it's wrong. I know I should stay away."

Neville nodded. "You should." He sighed. "You have to choose between them eventually. I'd forgive it if you chose him, if you would only decide. It's not fair to him, either, you know."

"Yeah, I know." It wasn't right. He had to make a choice. But how did you choose between the two people you loved most? When losing either of them would be like losing a limb?

Some Gryffindor he made, cowardly avoiding a real decision. Even when he quit Severus's bed, he couldn't quit his presence. He couldn't quit thinking about him. Always the boys were his excuse, wanting them to have a relationship with their father, whether or not they knew it. It wasn't right to Severus, to deprive him of his own sons. Secretly, Harry took selfish enjoyment of what little contact they had these past several years.

Even when the children were at school, he and Ginny continued their Sunday visits. They were still friends, Harry would assure his wife. Just friends, finally. Ginny would join him, play chaperon, barely maintaining civility with Severus. They were never enjoyable visits, just the three of them, but Harry always looked forward to Sundays.

"Ginny and I are taking a break, did you know?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. She's been talking to Hannah," Neville replied.

Harry nodded. "Severus and I have…" He cleared his throat. Neville laughed. "We've been fucking, but that's about it. Part of that's my fault. That's the easy part, for us. But I don't want that to be all. I want to know if…if this can work. I want to know what it would be like, if we were together. Isn't that the whole point of this?"

"It is," Neville agreed. "At least from my understanding."

"Right. Only Severus doesn't see it that way," Harry ranted. "He was mean. He's always mean. But he won't even try." Embarrassed by the tightness of his throat and the burning of his eyes, he turned from his friend to rub his face. "He's got some girlfriend now. She's smart enough for him. Has all the lady bits he likes. He was sure to rub that in my face."

"Wait, he has an actual girlfriend?" Neville asked, surprised.

"Near enough," Harry said.

"Hmm," Neville said.

Harry sighed and flopped down on the couch. "I know. I'm a right arse, aren't I? If he's moved on, I should just let him go. Right?"

"Well, yeah."

"Yeah. And I'm being selfish, wanting him to drop everything to give me a chance. When I can't even guarantee it will go anywhere," he carried on dully. The truth of it ate at him. When had he become such a selfish bastard? Always wanting to have his cake and eat it, too. Never fair to Ginny, never fair to Severus, even now. Freedom had come too late, and he would never know what they could be. Vaguely he was aware of the tears streaking down his face, of Neville joining him on the couch.

"Yeah," Neville said gently. "You're in love with him. It hurts. I get that. But you can't blame him for moving on, finally."

"I know," Harry agreed. It wasn't right for Severus to be screwing around on Esther, if they were a couple. Even if they weren't, Harry couldn't keep giving himself to Severus when all it would be was sex. Funny that now - now that he and Ginny were apart - now he would have to learn how to let Severus go for good. "Do you have any firewhisky?"

"I already had Hannah lock up the goods," Neville said, patting his shoulder. "But you can have some cake. Hannah made a black forest this evening."

"Cake is good."

"I apologize for the late intrusion," Severus said, accepting a glass of wine from Esther. She wore a thick pink bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, hair in a towel on top of her head. Esther had been fresh from a shower when Severus knocked on her door. It was a shame he was so recently satisfied; he entertained the idea of bedding her, if only to get the taste of Harry out of his mouth. Drive away the wizard's touch, his kiss, the smell of him. Punish him further. It would drive him insane to know what he could do to Esther; he would give her his very best just to spite the brat.

"I don't mind," Esther smiled. "I don't get the impression you are looking for sex."

"I certainly wouldn't mind it," Severus commented. All he required was an aphrodisiac. If he was lucky, he might make due without one. "Auror Potter is an infuriating creature, and I rather hoped for more stimulating company."

"Infuriation isn't stimulating?" Esther teased.

Sadly, it was, and in more ways than Esther knew. Harry got under his skin the way no one ever had. He only thought he had known passion, with the ardor Lily had inspired in him; how strange it would be her son to drive him to the depths of madness. How disgusting was he, to go from lusting for the mother to lusting for the son?

Esther sipped her wine. "I had noticed you've been especially busy of late. Are you aiding the Auror Department?"

"Nothing I am free to speak on." He had already considered that very excuse. Convenient for Esther to arrive to the conclusion herself.

"Far be it from me to intrude upon important work," Esther said. She stepped set her glass on the mantle beside them to slide her arms around his middle. "When you need a reprieve, you are always welcome here." Shyly, she pressed a kiss to his neck. "You may stay the night, if you like." Severus's free arm wound around her slender form, hand sliding down to caress womanly curves. This body was soft, welcoming. He could sink his teeth into this generous flesh. Severus knew all of the places to touch to make her scream. She was a violin, and he could play her to perfection. All of the possibilities flashed through his mind's eye.

"That is an appealing offer, I must confess," he breathed into her ear, setting his glass beside hers. Her hair was thin and dry where he combed his fingers through, but long. Her lips were equally thin and dry pressing against his, but she tasted of wine where her tongue teased his. Severus reacquainted himself with every delicious sample Harry would never have, delighting himself in every wound he had dug into his lover tonight. Esther was too distracted to notice the aphrodisiac he sipped. And it was with Harry in mind that he set himself to the task of showing Esther pleasure she had never before known.

After work for days, Ginny would go straight to James's flat to fix dinner. While James considered his options, he opted for lighter topics. They spoke of Quidditch, of music, of family gossip, any subject but the one that mattered most. Ginny allowed this. She had her own thoughts, but this was James's life and his decision to make. Instead she offered what support she could, feeding him, filling his home with goods. Now he had a nice chair in the living room, cupboards full of food, ample dinnerware in his cabinets, decorative items to give a more homey feel. Today she'd brought over candles, vases, and figurines to set out on tabletops and bookshelves.

"That smells good, Mum," James said cheerfully as he entered the kitchen.

"Fisherman's pie, your favorite," Ginny told him. A wave of her wand set a knife to slicing the bread. Another spell had a whisk working batter on the counter. "And cherry bakewell for dessert."

"You're the best!" James grinned. Pulling out his own wand, he set the table untidily and set a jug of pumpkin juice to pour itself into two glasses. Household spells were never his strong suit. The juice sloshed over the sides.

"Oh, sit down, Jay," Ginny fussed. A spell of her own cleaned the mess and floated the glasses to the table. In her own home, his messy spellwork had been a point of frustration. Here, in his home, it was charming. Ginny could not decide if it was because of the change in location, or the fact of their tenuous relationship.

James was still her sweet boy, regardless of outside circumstances. Who could resist that impish smile? Teddy should have, Ginny thought to herself. James should have known better than to chase a taken wizard, but he came by it honestly. Ginny didn't have it in her to blame him for any of it.

By the time dinner was served, dessert was put in the oven to bake as they ate. James raved for her cooking prowess. None of the children preferred her cooking, so the compliments were flattering. Lies, of course. Her fisherman's pie was average, at best. It was the gesture that mattered.

"I was thinking, James," Ginny began as she summoned the bakewells from the oven. She waited until his mouth was full of the tart before saying, "You should probably talk to Teddy about this." James choked on his tart. "That's his baby, too. He helped you get into this."

"I can't just pretend it isn't happening?" James laughed weakly.

"Birth would be a nasty shock," Ginny said dryly.

"Yeah," James sighed. "I don't know." He looked so small as he muttered, "I'm scared."

"I know," Ginny said. "I wish I could take it all away for you. But I can't. I'll be here for you. Always. But Teddy is the father. He should be involved. He deserves the chance to be involved."

James slowly chewed his tart, staring into space. Ginny leaned back in her seat, just watching him. Only eighteen years old, a naive child. She could kill Teddy for seducing him. She could kill Harry and Snape, for it was them she blamed for his falling into bed with a taken man. It was their sins James was paying for. Some part of her knew James was at fault for his own actions. More convenient for her to target anyone else. It didn't have to be fair. It was all done in the safety of her own mind, after all.

"I'll think about it," James eventually agreed.

"Good." Ginny smiled contentedly. James nibbled distractedly on his dessert. This was the legacy he had been born to. No, not James's sin, but Harry's and Snape's. And Teddy's, too. But Teddy still deserved the truth, and maybe just maybe he would make the right choice. Not Snape's choice.

The acid green ear suctioned to the wall connected to the radio at Pansy Parkinson's desk. Ginny and James's conversation echoed from the speakers. Pansy smirked, nibbling at the tip of her quill. It was just her luck as Daily Prophet correspondent when she found an available flat next door to Gideon Crumb's daughter. Chrysanthemum Crumb never knew how all of her indiscretions became public knowledge. Pansy got lucky a second time when Harry Potter's eldest moved next door. Pansy hadn't known what a jackpot it would turn out to be. James Sirius Potter - pregnant with Teddy Lupin's child! For that had to be the Teddy mentioned by Ginny. If not, it would still make an excellent news story.

On her parchment, Pansy crossed out Teddy's name. No, she would save that revelation for a rainy day. Harry Potter's son getting himself knocked up was a big enough news story on its own. Front page worthy, even. Humming to herself, Pansy began scribbling a rough draft for her article. She was definitely getting a raise after this!