arionrhod & snitchnip_chill
Author: arionrhod
Title: Suffer No Other Master
Pairing: Snape/Draco
Theme: But out, alack, he was but one hour mine, the region cloud hath mask'd him from me now --- Shakespeare, Sonnet XXXIII
He had succeeded.
Pulling the strong, young body into his arms, Severus buried his face in the mass of sweaty, silver-gilt hair, breathing in the scent of Draco's skin, more potent than the strongest aphrodisiac he had ever brewed. Severus had taken a risk, and it had paid off. Telling Draco of his long-held desire, taking him to bed, risking everything to save the young man from the Dark Lord. Perhaps, if he had only spoken sooner, he could have saved him from the Dark Mark that marred his flesh as well.
Almost as though the thought had been a trigger, the Potions Master felt a burn on his own arm, felt Draco pulling away, rolling out of the bed. While he watched in shock, the younger wizard pulled on his black robes.
"Draco... where are you going?"
"Our Master calls," came the reply, accompanied by a frown of inquiry.
"You do not have to go!"
"But I want to."
Like a cloud covering the sun, Draco donned the white mask of a Death Eater, before pulling his wand and Disapparating without a backwards glance. Severus stared at the empty spot for a moment in stunned disbelief.
He had failed.
Author: snitchnip_chill
Title: Perfect
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 1 003
A/N: Thanks to syndika for the beta. Warning for violence.
He woke.
He woke to...
Pain.
It wasn't unfamiliar. He'd met the wrong end of the Dark Lord's Crucio more than once. Crucio, yes, but somehow this felt different.
There wasn't the sharp taste of ozone on his tongue that usually accompanied the mind numbing pain. And, while his head hurt, his spine didn't feel like a red-hot poker jammed between his arse and the base of his skull.
Definitely not Crucio. In fact, his back felt perfectly fine. He could probably even sit up if... no; he felt ropes of some sort cut into his chest. He was bound then.
Bound?
Where am I, he suddenly wondered, but when he tried to open his eyes he met with more pain, searing pain that made his stomach rise to his gorge in protest. He choked back at the acidic splash of vomit burning his throat. Something felt wrong, but what?
His head pounded.
He was cold. Cold? His body felt cold, except for his head. His face. His face felt hot. He wanted to reach up and touch it, feel how hot it was, warm his icy fingers on his forehead, but no, his arms must be bound as well.
And the noise. He heard noise, someone making noise. Talking, familiar. Voldemort.
Voldemort. The cause of Severus' pain no doubt, he always seemed to cause Severus pain, intended or not. Even now, his voice exacerbated the pounding in his skull. But what was he saying?
It would probably do for Severus to listen. Maybe they thought him still unconscious and would let some information slip. He reverted to spying instinctively; information his objective.
"... laoreet nectuf posuege Draco for his valiant snt amfet purhs nect. Aliqufm porta, mavris..."
He couldn't concentrate. What was Voldemort saying? It sounded so distant. He'd mentioned Draco.
Draco.
Images flooded Severus' mind. Draco's soft smooth skin, his pale hair sweaty and clinging to his face. So long a dream he didn't believe the memory; but he'd never dreamt the burn of his arm, he'd never dreamt the white mask, and watching the swirl of Draco's robes as he Disapparated. .
"... youngest of our circle diabm sezd cobngue reward for telcus fevlis. What is pepde nunc a or?"
Concentrate, he had to concentrate.
"Severus," Draco's voice rang out clear through his skull.
Draco. Draco was there.
He heard the buzz of laughter, a crowd. A crowd?
Suddenly he knew where he must be. Voldemort's main hall, bound to the altar. Fear and adrenaline flooded his system, clearing his head.
He now remembered that night. That night, when he'd finally revealed himself to Draco. Surely, Voldemort would not let a traitor, a spy, live. It was odd that he'd allowed him to regain consciousness. Perhaps he had something planned that he wanted Severus alive for. Severus didn't want to think of that.
A hand laid on his shoulder and Severus jerked, unable to get away from it.
"It's okay," Draco whispered in his ear.
Draco, who had betrayed him, who had taken his love and used it for his own advancement. Severus should have known. He tried to look at the boy, but pain exploded in his head. He felt a familiar pull behind his navel as unconsciousness took him again.
**
He woke.
He woke again, his mind whispered.
His head throbbed, a slow pounding ache.
It was different, though. Different from before... Wait, he was still alive? He couldn't be. Draco had sold him out to the Dark Lord, Voldemort wouldn't leave him alive.
He attempted to open his eyes, but it hurt, they hurt, and he couldn't. What was wrong? He lifted his hand, unbound, to his eyes. But that didn't work either. He couldn't touch his face. His fingers, they should be there, they should be there, but he couldn't feel them on his face. He moved his hand around, trying to touch his face, to touch anything, to feel.
"It's okay," said Draco from behind him. Close behind him. Beneath the covers with him. They were in bed, Severus realized, a soft bed.
Draco grabbed his elbow, stilling his arm, but that was wrong too. His hand couldn't do that, his fingers crossed through his arm.
What was going on, Severus tried to ask, his jaw stiff and sore when he opened his mouth.
"Uuuuuunh Huuuuuuuh," Severus intoned.
"Shhhhh," said Draco, placing a finger to Severus' lips. "It'll be okay. You'll get used to it. I’m sure you'll adjust very quickly. I've healed you as much as I can; you should be up to full strength in no time."
Draco pressed a kiss to Severus' ear. "I saved these," he said. "The Dark Lord would have had me take them too, but I saved them. Your eyes, because you have seen too much; your tongue, because you have said too much; your ears, because you have heard too much, but he allowed me to take your hands in their stead."
Severus' stomach dropped. No, it couldn't be. Draco's hands stroked his bare back, one hand dipping lower over his arse, squeezing it before reaching between his legs to stroke his limp cock. Thankfully that seemed to be intact, though precious else was.
"I told him that if he was going to give you to me as a slave, I needed a way for you to hear my commands, but that's not the reason. I saved them because I couldn't bear to not be able to tell you how much I love you."
Draco pressed his erection into the cleft of Severus' arse, rubbing up and down before pressing it inside.
"Surely you can see now how much I love you," Draco whispered in his ear, his thrusts beating a slow rhythm. "I've loved you since I first met you; I only wish I could have shown you sooner. But it's all okay now; it's going to be fine. We can be together, finally. Now that I've saved you from Dumbledore everything will be perfect."
Fin
Title: Suffer No Other Master
Pairing: Snape/Draco
Theme: But out, alack, he was but one hour mine, the region cloud hath mask'd him from me now --- Shakespeare, Sonnet XXXIII
He had succeeded.
Pulling the strong, young body into his arms, Severus buried his face in the mass of sweaty, silver-gilt hair, breathing in the scent of Draco's skin, more potent than the strongest aphrodisiac he had ever brewed. Severus had taken a risk, and it had paid off. Telling Draco of his long-held desire, taking him to bed, risking everything to save the young man from the Dark Lord. Perhaps, if he had only spoken sooner, he could have saved him from the Dark Mark that marred his flesh as well.
Almost as though the thought had been a trigger, the Potions Master felt a burn on his own arm, felt Draco pulling away, rolling out of the bed. While he watched in shock, the younger wizard pulled on his black robes.
"Draco... where are you going?"
"Our Master calls," came the reply, accompanied by a frown of inquiry.
"You do not have to go!"
"But I want to."
Like a cloud covering the sun, Draco donned the white mask of a Death Eater, before pulling his wand and Disapparating without a backwards glance. Severus stared at the empty spot for a moment in stunned disbelief.
He had failed.
Author: snitchnip_chill
Title: Perfect
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 1 003
A/N: Thanks to syndika for the beta. Warning for violence.
He woke.
He woke to...
Pain.
It wasn't unfamiliar. He'd met the wrong end of the Dark Lord's Crucio more than once. Crucio, yes, but somehow this felt different.
There wasn't the sharp taste of ozone on his tongue that usually accompanied the mind numbing pain. And, while his head hurt, his spine didn't feel like a red-hot poker jammed between his arse and the base of his skull.
Definitely not Crucio. In fact, his back felt perfectly fine. He could probably even sit up if... no; he felt ropes of some sort cut into his chest. He was bound then.
Bound?
Where am I, he suddenly wondered, but when he tried to open his eyes he met with more pain, searing pain that made his stomach rise to his gorge in protest. He choked back at the acidic splash of vomit burning his throat. Something felt wrong, but what?
His head pounded.
He was cold. Cold? His body felt cold, except for his head. His face. His face felt hot. He wanted to reach up and touch it, feel how hot it was, warm his icy fingers on his forehead, but no, his arms must be bound as well.
And the noise. He heard noise, someone making noise. Talking, familiar. Voldemort.
Voldemort. The cause of Severus' pain no doubt, he always seemed to cause Severus pain, intended or not. Even now, his voice exacerbated the pounding in his skull. But what was he saying?
It would probably do for Severus to listen. Maybe they thought him still unconscious and would let some information slip. He reverted to spying instinctively; information his objective.
"... laoreet nectuf posuege Draco for his valiant snt amfet purhs nect. Aliqufm porta, mavris..."
He couldn't concentrate. What was Voldemort saying? It sounded so distant. He'd mentioned Draco.
Draco.
Images flooded Severus' mind. Draco's soft smooth skin, his pale hair sweaty and clinging to his face. So long a dream he didn't believe the memory; but he'd never dreamt the burn of his arm, he'd never dreamt the white mask, and watching the swirl of Draco's robes as he Disapparated. .
"... youngest of our circle diabm sezd cobngue reward for telcus fevlis. What is pepde nunc a or?"
Concentrate, he had to concentrate.
"Severus," Draco's voice rang out clear through his skull.
Draco. Draco was there.
He heard the buzz of laughter, a crowd. A crowd?
Suddenly he knew where he must be. Voldemort's main hall, bound to the altar. Fear and adrenaline flooded his system, clearing his head.
He now remembered that night. That night, when he'd finally revealed himself to Draco. Surely, Voldemort would not let a traitor, a spy, live. It was odd that he'd allowed him to regain consciousness. Perhaps he had something planned that he wanted Severus alive for. Severus didn't want to think of that.
A hand laid on his shoulder and Severus jerked, unable to get away from it.
"It's okay," Draco whispered in his ear.
Draco, who had betrayed him, who had taken his love and used it for his own advancement. Severus should have known. He tried to look at the boy, but pain exploded in his head. He felt a familiar pull behind his navel as unconsciousness took him again.
**
He woke.
He woke again, his mind whispered.
His head throbbed, a slow pounding ache.
It was different, though. Different from before... Wait, he was still alive? He couldn't be. Draco had sold him out to the Dark Lord, Voldemort wouldn't leave him alive.
He attempted to open his eyes, but it hurt, they hurt, and he couldn't. What was wrong? He lifted his hand, unbound, to his eyes. But that didn't work either. He couldn't touch his face. His fingers, they should be there, they should be there, but he couldn't feel them on his face. He moved his hand around, trying to touch his face, to touch anything, to feel.
"It's okay," said Draco from behind him. Close behind him. Beneath the covers with him. They were in bed, Severus realized, a soft bed.
Draco grabbed his elbow, stilling his arm, but that was wrong too. His hand couldn't do that, his fingers crossed through his arm.
What was going on, Severus tried to ask, his jaw stiff and sore when he opened his mouth.
"Uuuuuunh Huuuuuuuh," Severus intoned.
"Shhhhh," said Draco, placing a finger to Severus' lips. "It'll be okay. You'll get used to it. I’m sure you'll adjust very quickly. I've healed you as much as I can; you should be up to full strength in no time."
Draco pressed a kiss to Severus' ear. "I saved these," he said. "The Dark Lord would have had me take them too, but I saved them. Your eyes, because you have seen too much; your tongue, because you have said too much; your ears, because you have heard too much, but he allowed me to take your hands in their stead."
Severus' stomach dropped. No, it couldn't be. Draco's hands stroked his bare back, one hand dipping lower over his arse, squeezing it before reaching between his legs to stroke his limp cock. Thankfully that seemed to be intact, though precious else was.
"I told him that if he was going to give you to me as a slave, I needed a way for you to hear my commands, but that's not the reason. I saved them because I couldn't bear to not be able to tell you how much I love you."
Draco pressed his erection into the cleft of Severus' arse, rubbing up and down before pressing it inside.
"Surely you can see now how much I love you," Draco whispered in his ear, his thrusts beating a slow rhythm. "I've loved you since I first met you; I only wish I could have shown you sooner. But it's all okay now; it's going to be fine. We can be together, finally. Now that I've saved you from Dumbledore everything will be perfect."
Fin