[Fic] Still Life (R) Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Title: Still Life
Author: faynia
Rating: R
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Word Count: approx. 1,300
Summary: When Harry had first asked Snape to pose naked, the fight had left them not talking to each other for weeks.
A/N: I hope this fits what you wanted, calanor. I think I managed to hit upon everything you wanted from this fic, including bottom!Snape!
Beta'd by lesyeuxverts00
Red and yellow smeared together on the canvas making a pumpkin orange color that annoyed him. Harry Potter growled and slammed the fan tipped brush against the painting he'd been working on for a month. Paint splattered onto his face and hands. Harry hated still life paintings.
"Damn it."
He took the canvas off the easel and set it on the floor. With an aggravated grunt, he stomped the picture of the menagerie until it was mangled beyond recognition. Frustration simmered below the surface as he stared at his failing grade on his final. Two days of no sleep, and the use of a tooth cleaning charm and now he had nothing to show for it, except the damaged frame on the floor.
"Language, Mr. Potter."
"Piss off, Snape," Harry swore as he stomped on the picture one last time. He raked his fingers through his grease-slicked hair with a cynical smile. He should have taken time for a shower, but the painting was due the next day, and Harry had been falling behind. "You're early."
"An astute observation from the man who just committed such a barbaric action." Harry turned to see Snape setting his cloak over the back of his preferred chair. "What did that painting of yours do to offend you?"
Harry had been fishing for something to say when he had heard Snape enter. He hadn’t glanced at the clock on the wall in well over ten hours. While he thought on it, he couldn’t recall inviting Snape over in the first place. Despite that, the intrusion was more than welcome.
"Existed," Harry answered, disregarding proper handling of materials by flinging the dirty brushes into the sink. They landed with a clank, rattling a few empty glasses of water.
"That was the piece for your final, wasn't it?" Harry glared at him and Snape smirked. "Why you chose to paint such a boring topic is beyond me. Surely you had better subjects than Miss Granger's glass menagerie."
"Oh, I do, I'm just not sure how much you wanted to share with the class," Harry slid onto Snape's lap, his arms wrapping around the broader man's neck. He nuzzled his nose against the side of Snape's neck and exhaled softly.
When Harry had first asked Snape to pose naked, the fight had left them not talking to each other for weeks. Many miserable weeks that culminated in Harry breaking down and apologizing in the only way he knew how. One sore bottom on Snape's part and a few cutting barbs later, they reached the conclusion that Harry could paint him, as long as he burned the canvas once it was done.
The painting in question rested against the far wall, an oil paint smeared white sheet covering it. Harry doubted he'd ever be happy with it. The subject was brilliant and willing, but Harry couldn't seem to capture the expression in the dark eyes.
"No one wishes to see this used thing," Snape murmured, his voice hitching as Harry adjusted his position enough to rub against the unmistakable bulge in Snape's trousers.
Harry smirked, but the amusement didn't quite reach his eyes. "No one?"
"Perhaps someone may wish to," Snape amended, his fingers skittering up Harry's spine, "but it is highly unlikely that anyone else would enjoy it."
"You think too little of yourself," Harry said, inserting his hand beneath the waistband of Snape's trousers. He grasped the hardened member through sweat-dampened underwear. "You are nowhere near little in my opinion."
Snape's eyes slid shut as his mouth opened, emitting a soft gasp. Harry grinned, sucking the skin just above the collar of Snape's shirt. Black hair obscured part of Snape's face, but his ragged breathing encouraged Harry to continue.
"You're biased," Snape said, shuddering. Harry chuckled. He moved his fist slowly over his ex-professor's erection and enjoyed the small wrinkle that appeared on Snape's forehead. If the man's shoes had been off, Harry knew he would have seen curling toes.
He brought his head up, raining light kisses along Snape's jaw and up his cheeks to his forehead. A twist of his body brought his own erection in direct contact with Snape's torso, and he couldn't help the moan that passed his lips. The answering groan had him moving around until he was straddling his lover's lap. "Merlin, Potter, are you so desperate that you can't even take off your pants?"
"You aren't?" Harry said, rubbing catlike along Snape's body, sending a burst of pleasure through himself. His forehead dropped to Snape's as his eyes fell shut. "Been too long."
Snape didn't bother to mask his heavy breathing. "It was your idea to join a Muggle school, not mine. You should have been aware--"
Harry kissed away the rest of the tirade. He moved his lips with a slowness that contrasted the movements of his lower half. Snape nipped at Harry's lower lip, begging for entrance, which Harry gave with some reluctance. His hips jerked forward as Snape surged up to meet him, breaking off their kiss with a startled cry. He hadn't been lying. This was overdue. He hadn't seen Snape in well over two weeks. There was only so much he could do with his own hand and his wand.
He rutted mindlessly, every snap of his hips met by an equally hurried thrust of Snape's. His vision was going white as he neared the end.
"Close, can't--" Harry hissed, legs hooking around Snape's, fingers gripping hair, shoulders and chair fabric as he shattered with a noiseless yell.
His hips banged harshly against Snape's own, sending him over the edge as well. The mangled yelp had Harry's eyes opening with a sleepy smile. "Good?"
"Brat."
Harry's smiled widened, and he pressed a lethargic kiss to the wrinkled brow, before turning and resettling himself into his previous position. They sat in companionable silence, Harry's fingers twisting Snape's shirt collar while Snape's fingers ran through Harry's hair. It was practiced and comfortable.
He made himself a silent promise never to go that long without seeing his lover again. Feeling lighter than he had in a week, Harry stumbled upon the reason Snape had shown. "You missed me too."
Snape scoffed and pushed Harry off his lap to the floor. “I did no such thing.”
Harry grinned as he shoved the abandoned painting aside with his foot. It skidded across the floor and went under the small kitchen table. He’d get it later.
“Did so,” Harry teased with a knowing smirk. Snape’s scowl didn’t deter him. He knew he had won. “Now strip.”
Snape gaped at the non sequitur. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me,” Harry said, standing. “Strip.”
Snape folded his arms across his chest. “Not until you tell me what you’re going to do and then perhaps I shall consider it.”
“Severus, take off your clothing and relax,” Harry instructed, patience waning. “I have a final due in the morning, and I refuse to fail this class.”
With a skeptical glare, Snape unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, discarding it to the floor. Soon the rest of his clothing followed along the way of the shirt and Severus Snape stood naked, in the middle of Harry’s tiny flat.
Harry knew exactly what he had to do to finish in time now. It would take him all night, he was sure, but he had finally found what it was in Snape’s eyes that he’d been missing: passion.
Author: faynia
Rating: R
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Word Count: approx. 1,300
Summary: When Harry had first asked Snape to pose naked, the fight had left them not talking to each other for weeks.
A/N: I hope this fits what you wanted, calanor. I think I managed to hit upon everything you wanted from this fic, including bottom!Snape!
Beta'd by lesyeuxverts00
Red and yellow smeared together on the canvas making a pumpkin orange color that annoyed him. Harry Potter growled and slammed the fan tipped brush against the painting he'd been working on for a month. Paint splattered onto his face and hands. Harry hated still life paintings.
"Damn it."
He took the canvas off the easel and set it on the floor. With an aggravated grunt, he stomped the picture of the menagerie until it was mangled beyond recognition. Frustration simmered below the surface as he stared at his failing grade on his final. Two days of no sleep, and the use of a tooth cleaning charm and now he had nothing to show for it, except the damaged frame on the floor.
"Language, Mr. Potter."
"Piss off, Snape," Harry swore as he stomped on the picture one last time. He raked his fingers through his grease-slicked hair with a cynical smile. He should have taken time for a shower, but the painting was due the next day, and Harry had been falling behind. "You're early."
"An astute observation from the man who just committed such a barbaric action." Harry turned to see Snape setting his cloak over the back of his preferred chair. "What did that painting of yours do to offend you?"
Harry had been fishing for something to say when he had heard Snape enter. He hadn’t glanced at the clock on the wall in well over ten hours. While he thought on it, he couldn’t recall inviting Snape over in the first place. Despite that, the intrusion was more than welcome.
"Existed," Harry answered, disregarding proper handling of materials by flinging the dirty brushes into the sink. They landed with a clank, rattling a few empty glasses of water.
"That was the piece for your final, wasn't it?" Harry glared at him and Snape smirked. "Why you chose to paint such a boring topic is beyond me. Surely you had better subjects than Miss Granger's glass menagerie."
"Oh, I do, I'm just not sure how much you wanted to share with the class," Harry slid onto Snape's lap, his arms wrapping around the broader man's neck. He nuzzled his nose against the side of Snape's neck and exhaled softly.
When Harry had first asked Snape to pose naked, the fight had left them not talking to each other for weeks. Many miserable weeks that culminated in Harry breaking down and apologizing in the only way he knew how. One sore bottom on Snape's part and a few cutting barbs later, they reached the conclusion that Harry could paint him, as long as he burned the canvas once it was done.
The painting in question rested against the far wall, an oil paint smeared white sheet covering it. Harry doubted he'd ever be happy with it. The subject was brilliant and willing, but Harry couldn't seem to capture the expression in the dark eyes.
"No one wishes to see this used thing," Snape murmured, his voice hitching as Harry adjusted his position enough to rub against the unmistakable bulge in Snape's trousers.
Harry smirked, but the amusement didn't quite reach his eyes. "No one?"
"Perhaps someone may wish to," Snape amended, his fingers skittering up Harry's spine, "but it is highly unlikely that anyone else would enjoy it."
"You think too little of yourself," Harry said, inserting his hand beneath the waistband of Snape's trousers. He grasped the hardened member through sweat-dampened underwear. "You are nowhere near little in my opinion."
Snape's eyes slid shut as his mouth opened, emitting a soft gasp. Harry grinned, sucking the skin just above the collar of Snape's shirt. Black hair obscured part of Snape's face, but his ragged breathing encouraged Harry to continue.
"You're biased," Snape said, shuddering. Harry chuckled. He moved his fist slowly over his ex-professor's erection and enjoyed the small wrinkle that appeared on Snape's forehead. If the man's shoes had been off, Harry knew he would have seen curling toes.
He brought his head up, raining light kisses along Snape's jaw and up his cheeks to his forehead. A twist of his body brought his own erection in direct contact with Snape's torso, and he couldn't help the moan that passed his lips. The answering groan had him moving around until he was straddling his lover's lap. "Merlin, Potter, are you so desperate that you can't even take off your pants?"
"You aren't?" Harry said, rubbing catlike along Snape's body, sending a burst of pleasure through himself. His forehead dropped to Snape's as his eyes fell shut. "Been too long."
Snape didn't bother to mask his heavy breathing. "It was your idea to join a Muggle school, not mine. You should have been aware--"
Harry kissed away the rest of the tirade. He moved his lips with a slowness that contrasted the movements of his lower half. Snape nipped at Harry's lower lip, begging for entrance, which Harry gave with some reluctance. His hips jerked forward as Snape surged up to meet him, breaking off their kiss with a startled cry. He hadn't been lying. This was overdue. He hadn't seen Snape in well over two weeks. There was only so much he could do with his own hand and his wand.
He rutted mindlessly, every snap of his hips met by an equally hurried thrust of Snape's. His vision was going white as he neared the end.
"Close, can't--" Harry hissed, legs hooking around Snape's, fingers gripping hair, shoulders and chair fabric as he shattered with a noiseless yell.
His hips banged harshly against Snape's own, sending him over the edge as well. The mangled yelp had Harry's eyes opening with a sleepy smile. "Good?"
"Brat."
Harry's smiled widened, and he pressed a lethargic kiss to the wrinkled brow, before turning and resettling himself into his previous position. They sat in companionable silence, Harry's fingers twisting Snape's shirt collar while Snape's fingers ran through Harry's hair. It was practiced and comfortable.
He made himself a silent promise never to go that long without seeing his lover again. Feeling lighter than he had in a week, Harry stumbled upon the reason Snape had shown. "You missed me too."
Snape scoffed and pushed Harry off his lap to the floor. “I did no such thing.”
Harry grinned as he shoved the abandoned painting aside with his foot. It skidded across the floor and went under the small kitchen table. He’d get it later.
“Did so,” Harry teased with a knowing smirk. Snape’s scowl didn’t deter him. He knew he had won. “Now strip.”
Snape gaped at the non sequitur. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me,” Harry said, standing. “Strip.”
Snape folded his arms across his chest. “Not until you tell me what you’re going to do and then perhaps I shall consider it.”
“Severus, take off your clothing and relax,” Harry instructed, patience waning. “I have a final due in the morning, and I refuse to fail this class.”
With a skeptical glare, Snape unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, discarding it to the floor. Soon the rest of his clothing followed along the way of the shirt and Severus Snape stood naked, in the middle of Harry’s tiny flat.
Harry knew exactly what he had to do to finish in time now. It would take him all night, he was sure, but he had finally found what it was in Snape’s eyes that he’d been missing: passion.