Second Place - Action/Adventure

Severus Apparated directly to Harry's building, charged through the doors, and snarled at the concierge as he impatiently jabbed the button for the lift. When the hapless concierge asked whom Severus was there to see, Severus flicked his wand and cast a sleeping charm. He was in no mood to be accosted.

The lift chimed merrily during its slow descent to the lobby floor, setting Severus's teeth on edge. He was convinced it was mocking him. He sighed irritably and quickly surveyed the foyer. While understated, it reeked of money and sophistication. Severus was a bit surprised that Harry had chosen to live here. But then again, people paid no mind to anyone else there, at least from what he'd been able to tell from a few months of skulking about in the shadows trying to decide whether to call on Harry. He'd always Apparated back to New York, convinced that Harry would make the first move. It's why he hadn't left, why he'd refused all of Simmons's assignments. He'd been waiting for Harry to come to him. And now, the stupid little sod had forced his hand.

The lift finally arrived. Severus slammed the gate closed behind him as he entered and pressed the button for Harry's floor. "Once I save him�again�I am going to rend that ruddy bastard bony limb from sodding bony limb."

Finally, the lift doors opened. Severus knocked the gate out of the way and charged down the hallway in a near run. He skidded to a stop at Harry's door. Without bothering to check the strength of the wards, Severus whipped out his wand and bellowed the strongest ward and lock breaking charms he knew. Unbeknownst to Severus, Harry had forgone his usual locking and warding charms. He'd felt bad after it had attacked Brian. The lightly warded door to Harry's flat shuddered and groaned before flying from its hinges, battering the walls in the narrow foyer and landing catawampus just beyond.

Severus rushed in with his wand still raised, trampling over the battered door. Harry was standing by the kitchen bar with a glass of clear liquid in his hand. The glass was raised to his lips. He stood there frozen, agog at what remained of his door, and his foyer, and the appearance of a murderous and disheveled Snape. Even though he was furious, even though there were far more important things to consider than his libido, Severus felt the flush of arousal at seeing Harry.

Putting that aside, Severus charged over and knocked the glass from Harry's hand, breathing a sigh of relief as it shattered and splattered uselessly against the far wall. Absolute stillness descended. Harry's mouth had now fallen open, his eyebrows had shot nearly beyond his hairline and the hand that had been holding the glass remained in place as if in pantomime. Still, he was beautiful to Severus. Then, as if in slow motion, Harry's bewildered expression morphed into one of absolute, blotchy-red rage.

"What the fuck was that for?" he shrieked, even as his eyes unconsciously roved over the torrid image Severus made standing there. Ready to do battle.

Harry's tone, the ungratefulness of it, rankled Severus. It was almost enough to put off his arousal. But, the sight of Harry's apoplectic rage was oddly stirring. "I'm saving your pathetic hide once again, you ungrateful brat!" Severus screamed, in an effort to redirect his desire.

Harry blinked in surprise. "From what?" he asked incredulously. "I hadn't realized the danger posed by a glass of tepid water," he hissed, moving closer to Severus.

"Water? Water?" Severus repeated, astounded at Harry's audacity. "Poison, you mean," he accused, jabbing his finger at Harry's chest.

"Poison?" Harry repeated as he batted away the hand poking him, feeling an odd thrill of electricity every time their hands connected. "What are you on about? I was about to drink a glass of water when you barreled in here, uninvited, knocking my door off its hinges, and throwing my things about as if they didn't matter." Harry looked back at the wall and the floor below, now covered in glass shards. "Goddamn you! That was my only glass!" he said when turned back around.

Furious, Severus stepped forward. Harry held his ground. His face and his fists were screwed up, ready for whatever Severus might throw his way. Severus grabbed his chin painfully and tilted his head up and back so that Harry was staring directly into Severus's eyes. Not liking where this was going, Harry tried to close them, but Severus stopped him.

"Oh no you don't," he growled as he wound his other arm around Harry's neck and head, thus keeping him in place and his eyes open. The weight of Harry in his arms felt right, natural.

"Let me go!" Harry panted as he tried to twist away at the first not-so-gentle nudge against his mind. "Don't you dare, you fucking prick," he bellowed half-heartedly. His physical struggles now were less about getting away and more about getting closer. As much as he hated, detested, the invasion, having Severus so close soothed the unnamed ache he'd felt for so long.

Severus found it difficult to concentrate on his task with Harry undulating and bumping against him. Each touch, each breathy groan, went straight to his aching prick. Fucking Merlin, he was hard. But, right now was about saving Harry's life. He'd fuck him through the wall later. Once they'd made up. He'd heard a great deal about make-up sex.

Finally focused, Severus quickly started sifting through Harry's most recent memories. He expected to see a young suicidal man on the brink of self-destruction. He expected to find memories of Harry preparing the poison from which Severus had saved him. Instead, he found memories of a calm, introspective young man who, not ten minutes before, had pulled out his only glass, gone to the tap and gotten a glass of . . . water. Fuck! He was only drinking a glass of water. Severus felt the world dropping out beneath him. Desperate, he pushed harder and ripped through more of Harry's memories. He saw him writing in journals, reading strange books, going through his old school trunk, visiting the Weasley graves and placing flowers and trinkets at each headstone. And then, he saw it. Draco Malfoy's visit to Harry earlier in the day. Severus reared back, quickly withdrawing from Harry's mind. Both the physical and mental release caused both men to fall away from each other, both cradling their heads in their hands for a few moments. It was official. Severus Snape was going to kill Draco Malfoy. He doubted it would take much convincing to get Harry to join him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you," Harry murmured in between sharp pants. He felt addled, his head was pounding and, to add insult to injury, he felt oddly bereft at the loss of Severus's physical presence.

Severus said nothing. It was as if he were paralyzed. What could he say? Really, what could he say?

"I asked you what the fuck is wrong with you? Why the fuck are you even here?" Harry bellowed as he got to his feet, white-hot anger coursing through him. "You've lost your goddamned mind." Severus stood there like a statue, unable to come up with anything to say. Harry growled low in his throat and charged at Severus, wrapping his hands around his neck and squeezing. "Get the fuck out!" he screamed while shaking Severus's head back and forth and pushing against him. His mind, though, was screaming, �Stay! Stay! Stay!'

The feel of Harry's cold hands around his neck snapped Severus from his daze. With much effort, he pulled Harry's hands away and pushed him backwards. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me?" Severus repeated. At Harry's challenging glare, Severus exploded. "I'm in love with you, you little bastard! That's what's wrong with me! That's why I'm here!"

The words hung in the air. The weight of them was so tangible that Harry thought he might see small transparent letters drip from the ceiling at any second. He swallowed thickly as his eyes roved over Seveurs's purpled face, heaving chest, and twitching hands for any sign of deceit. He found none. He hadn't thought anything could top the surprise of a heavy door flying from its hinges and landing unceremoniously in a heap at his feet. Clearly, he'd been mistaken in that assumption.

Harry and Severus stared at each other for a long while. The heated arousal both of them had felt dissipated in the wake of Severus's spontaneous declaration. Harry eyed Severus warily before stating the facts as presented, halting in between each to get his head around what Severus was saying.

"You're in love with me." Harry said flatly.

"Yes."

"And you expect me to believe that?"

"Yes."

"You thought I was about to commit suicide."

"Yes."

"I'm assuming Malfoy had something to do with that," he muttered to himself not expecting a response.

"Indeed," Severus said coldly.

"And, you felt that justified destruction of my property, manhandling me, and invading my mind against my will."

Severus hesitated for the barest moment. "Yes."

"Because you're in love with me," Harry said again is if it were a ridiculous conclusion. He tensed, not sure he wanted to hear Severus's response. He'd wanted this for so long, but he rarely got what he wanted.

"Yes, you idiot. Do you think I would have done all of this otherwise? Do you think I would have made such a colossal fool of myself? Great Merlin, you're thick!" Severus strode forward and grabbed Harry by the shoulders, shaking him gently. "Don't you know how I feel about you? Don't you? When Draco . . . implied that you meant to do yourself harm, I just . . ." Severus squeezed and released Harry's shoulders while he cleared his throat. "Well, let's just say that I had no intention of letting your skinny little arse off so easily."

Harry blinked, awed by what Severus was saying and the way he was saying it. "You're in love with me," he whispered, truly believing it this time.

The smile that blossomed on Harry's face made Severus's heart leap for joy and his gut twist at the foreignness of the emotion. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. "As much as I am loathe to admit it, and for the last time, yes!"

"You make it sound like an incurable disease," Harry muttered, still smiling his goofy, star-struck smile.

Severus huffed in irritation. "Sadly, it hasn't proved fatal as of yet."

"Stick around long enough and something's bound to happen."

"Of course, how could I forget? You are a lightening rod for trouble, aren't you? A veritable Bermuda Triangle of magical mayhem, as it were. Yes, perhaps I should stick around and wait and see what happens. Who knows? A week with you and I might be dead yet."

Harry cocked his head to the side and smiled. "I thought you were already dead."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Don't mince figures of speech with me, boy. You'll come out on the wrong side of the pen," he said.

The conversation lulled as each man struggled with what to do, what to say next. Harry broke the silence first. "So, what now? What happens? What . . . what do you want?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know what happens next?" Severus groused. "You might find this hard to believe, but I am not an incurable romantic."

Harry smiled again as he thought about Severus charging into his flat, hell bent on "saving" him. "Actually, I do find that hard to believe," he whispered.

Severus looked up sharply, spots of color high on his cheeks. "Watch it. I'll not have you maligning me."

Harry giggled and then abruptly paled. "Fuck! I just giggled. What the fuck is going on?"

Severus's lips thinned and pursed into an approximation of a smile. "Giggling is a tell-tale sign of romantic tomfoolery. Perhaps someone else is in love with someone else?"

Severus said it lightly, as if to tease, but Harry saw and heard the earnest plea in the too casual stance and the stilted delivery. It occurred to Harry that he'd yet to respond to Severus's breathless declaration. "I do, you know," he said softly. "Love you, I mean." Harry laughed nervously. "I have for an embarrassingly long time, actually."

It was Severus's turn to scrutinize Harry in an effort to detect deceit. Finding none, he nodded once and started searching about for somewhere to sit. "You're not going to want to talk about your feelings, are you?" he asked warily, finally settling on Draco's transfigured chair. Without care, he sat gracefully on the soft blanket that had puddled in the seat.

Harry pursed his lips. "What's wrong with talking about feelings?"

Severus looked at Harry as if he were daft as he simultaneously fought to get comfortable in what turned out to be a decidedly lumpy chair. "What is wrong with this chair?" he asked in exasperation as he felt along the edge of the blanket and began to pull out what lay beneath it.

"Don't!" Harry screamed as he scrambled over finally just realizing what Severus was about to find. He was too late. His stash of self-help books had once again been discovered. At least one of his books, anyway. Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

Severus stared at the book for several seconds. "What is this shite?" he asked, "Grief and the Modern Wizard?" He dropped the book and recoiled as if he'd been stung by it. He closed his eyes and winced. "Oh fuck, you are going to talk about your feelings."

"It's not that bad. Honestly," Harry said hastily.

Severus harrumphed. "I've said everything there is to say. Everything that's important, anyway. You know how I feel now. I know how you feel. What more could there possibly be?"

Harry sighed. "Lots, Severus. Just because we've said . . . you know . . . there's still quite a bit to figure out."

"Like what?"

"Well, I live in London. You live in New York. Even with Apparition, that's quite a long-distance relationship. I've retired from the spy business. Last I heard, you were still working assignments. I'm . . . I'm not interested in something casual or haphazard. I want the real thing."

Severus shook his head. "Goddamn it, where's the fucking that everyone goes on about? I thought we would be fucking by now," he muttered. "Make-up sex, I think they call it."

"About that," Harry said.

Severus's head snapped around. "Oh, no. Don't you say it. Don't you fucking say it."

"I just thought, you know, that we could take things slow. Get to really know each other first before jumping into bed."

Severus wilted. In every conceivable way. "You said it, you fucking said it," he murmured, noting that only the faintest stirrings of arousal remained.

"If that's going to be a problem," Harry began, a hard edge to his voice.

Severus waved him away. "No, no, no. I've put up with you this far, haven't I? You want to take it slow? Fine. We'll take it slow. Now, what exactly does that mean?"

Harry hadn't thought that far ahead. "Err, well, I guess it can mean anything we want it to."

"Well seeing as how you're the expert," Severus said while waving Harry's self-help book, "what do you suggest?"

Harry paused. "Well, we can start with you fixing my door. This isn't something I fancy sharing with the neighbors. And since you broke it, you should fix it."

Severus growled as he abruptly stood and pointed his wand at the door. He made a few jerky, slashing motions and the door wobbled and rumbled before flying up and reattaching itself to the doorframe.

"And the floors and walls, if you please," Severus heard from behind him.

"I'm not your bloody contractor," Severus said in exasperation, but set about repairing the floors and walls all the same. "Satisfied?"

Harry stood and walked over to the door. He opened it and closed it a few times before turning and running his hands along the wall that suffered the most damage. The floor was still a bit scratched, but not terribly so. "It will do," he said with a smirk.

"What now, Potter?" Severus asked through clenched teeth. "Any more bizarre courting rituals you wish to put me through?"

"Well, you could go to the market for me."

"What?"

"The market. I'll make you dinner. It'll be like a date of sorts."

Severus cast a wary eye around the flat. "I was led to believe you subsist on Muggle take-away. Further, your rather dubious Potions skills leave me a bit skeptical about your cooking abilities. And, if your temper tantrum about your glass is anything to go by, just how exactly do you intend to serve this infamous dinner?"

"Leave that to me," Harry said as he quickly wrote out a list. "Well, go on then," he said as he handed the list to Severus and gently pushed him towards the door.

"What? You're not content with me being your contractor, I'm your errand boy now?"

"Better than my whipping boy," Harry blurted out, his eyes feasting on Severus's backside.

"What was that?" Severus said with a strangled voice as he turned around.

Harry blanched. "Oh, fuck, I said that out loud."

Severus's eyes narrowed. "Indeed. So much for taking things slow," he smirked before sauntering out of the flat.

Harry nearly collapsed when the door closed softly. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. I am never going to be able to do this," he whispered to himself, unable to get the image of Severus's bottom out of his head. He eyed the self-help book on the floor and took a deep breath. He would do this. He could get through a meal with Severus without getting fucked. He was sure of it. Now, if he could convince his cock of the same thing, he might be able to get through the evening.

An hour later, Severus returned with a number of shopping bags. "Harry?" he called out, not finding him in the main part of the flat. He saw that the bedroom door was closed. Shrugging off his cloak, he took the groceries to the kitchen. Tomatoes, garlic, onions, zucchini, fresh tarragon and oregano, peppers and squash came out first followed by crusty bread. That done, he opened a bottle of red wine that had caught his fancy and poured two glasses. He walked back into the living room and noticed a small dining table set in the corner near the windows. Beautiful, incandescent orbs hovered over the table set with fine china, silver and crystal, bathing it all with a soft glow. Severus snorted. "Damn romantic Gryffindor," he muttered fondly. "If you hadn't said otherwise, I'd think you were planning some sort of seduction, Mr. Potter."

"Severus?"

Severus turned and nearly dropped his glass. Harry stood there beautifully dressed in black trousers and a cobalt blue silk shirt. The cuffs of the shirt had been unbuttoned and turned back, leaving the claiming marks on his wrists visible. Severus's breath caught in his throat at the sight of them. He could feel his vampire stirring, desperate to complete the ritual they'd begun three months prior. It didn't help that Harry looked good enough to eat. His skin was rosy and his hair adorably mussed. "You've been busy," he said softly, delighted when Harry flushed a brilliant crimson.

Harry cleared his throat. "Just wanted to make a good impression," he stammered.

"Hmm, yes," Severus said appraisingly, having realized that for all of his "psychobabble," Harry wasn't interested in going slow tonight. They had something to finish before starting anew. And, they would finish it tonight. Severus would see to that. It was time for a bit of Slytherin seduction. "Wine?" he asked as he floated back to the kitchen.

"Sure." Harry followed Severus into the kitchen. "Thanks," he said taking a sip of the wine before pulling out a large pot, a cutting board and a variety of knives.

The kitchen was small, so Harry was surprised when Severus didn't move from where he was leaning against the counter, watching Harry's every move with glittering eyes. Harry had to squeeze past him a number of times becoming more aroused with each pass, each fleeting press of their bodies. "Sorry," he stammered more than once. He practically gulped down his wine, missing the flare of heat in Severus's eyes when Harry's tongue darted out to catch a bit of the ruby-red liquid before it slipped past his lips.

Harry took a deep breath in an effort to steel his nerves. Severus's presence made Harry's skin tingle and burn both delightfully and terrifyingly. With a sigh, he began preparing their meal. After sectioning the tomatoes, he put them in the pot and started pressing them with his hands. He heard a small gasp and turned to see Severus staring at his hands.

The brilliant red of the tomatoes contrasted sharply against Harry's pale skin. Severus was transfixed as he watched Harry press the tomatoes with his hands. The glistening sight of them was both grotesque and erotic as hell.

The weight of Severus's stare was starting to unnerve Harry. He took a deep breath and decided conversation was in order. "What happened with your bookseller assignment?" Harry asked as he continued to press the tomatoes.

"I caught him," Severus said shortly, licking his lips and not much in the mood for conversation.

Deciding that the tomatoes were pressed enough, Harry danced around Severus to get to the sink to wash his hands. "Err, excuse me," he said softly when Severus didn't move. Severus shifted slightly, smirking while he did so. Harry could feel Severus's breath on the back of his neck. The fragrant smell of Merlot wafted with it.

Harry quickly scrambled back to the pot. Picking up one of the onions, he started chopping nervously. Focused on the task, he didn't pay attention when he heard the clink of a glass against the counter. He nearly cut his finger off when he felt Severus wrap himself around him and take his hands in his, stilling his progress.

"You never did learn to chop correctly, did you?" he murmured softly in Harry's ear.

Harry shuddered and, apparently, lost control of his body, because that was the only thing that could explain its sudden fall into the larger body behind him.

"Like this, Harry," Severus murmured as they began chopping the onion together.

The feel of Severus's hands on his was nearly enough to undo him. They chopped in silence, their bodies stiff and thrumming with magic and sexual energy.

"Think you've got the hang of it?" Severus queried softly, his lips barely grazing Harry's ear.

He wanted to say, "Yeah, I think so." But, what he whispered was, "Maybe you should stay. Make sure I've got the technique down."

Harry thought he could feel Severus's mouth curling into a smile. "Of course," Severus whispered as his beautiful hands squeezed Harry's gently.

They moved onto the peppers from there. Harry could feel Severus's erection as he pressed closer and closer. Harry tried valiantly to turn down the heat simmering between them. "Err, how's New York?" Harry croaked.

"Hot," Severus whispered in Harry's ear.

"Beyond the weather?" Harry squeaked.

"Lonely."

"Oh," Harry said having no idea what to say next. Fortunately, it was time to put all of the other ingredients in the pot with the tomatoes. When Severus's hands didn't retreat, Harry said, "Eh, I've got to, uh, put these things with the tomatoes . . ." Severus retreated, but not before his fingers brushed softly against the claiming marks on the inside of Harry's wrists. Harry drew in a shaky breath, fighting what was quickly becoming a losing battle. Severus eventually returned to his corner of the kitchen as Harry stirred the tomato sauce. "Um, I just need to bring it to a boil, add the spices and then let it simmer for about forty-five minutes."

"Sounds delightful," Severus said with a leer.

Harry flushed again. "Don't feel like you have to stay here with me in the kitchen. I mean, if you'd be more comfortable in the living room. . . "

"I'm quite comfortable where I am, Harry. Are you? Comfortable?"

"Sure," Harry murmured. His ability to blush was reaching new heights. He'd never done this subtle dance. In the past, it was about the quick fuck. He wanted to go slow. He really, really did, but when Severus had brushed his fingers across the claiming marks on his wrist, it was as if a part of Harry had come alive. Where it was stirring made Harry want to chuck the idea of "going slow," and, instead, go very, very fast. It was taking all of his self-control not to fling himself at Severus and beg him to take him.

Severus twisted his back and stretched. Harry licked his lips as he imagined Severus doing that while he knelt between Severus's legs and sucked him for all he was worth. During his erotic daydreaming, his eyes drifted south and Harry realized with a start that he was now staring at Severus's trousers. Actually, he was staring at the significant lump in Severus's trousers.

"Like what you see?" Severus whispered.

Harry's head shot up and he licked his lips again. "S-sorry," he stammered.

Severus gave a small smile, sure that the delicate point of his fangs had slipped out. Being so close to Harry was killing him and his vampire wanted to play. When they'd been fighting earlier and screaming at each other, he'd wanted nothing more than to slam him against the wall, kiss him senseless, bite into that gorgeous, gorgeous neck and fuck him within an inch of his life. Watching him press the tomatoes with his hands had nearly undone him. He'd nearly died anew standing behind Harry, smelling him, feeling him, sensing his arousal. When he'd brushed his fingers across the claiming marks on the inside of Harry's wrists, he'd had to step back before he devoured him�his body desperately wanted to finish the ritual. He could feel the buzz of ancient magic beginning to swirl in the room.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off of the little sliver of fang peeking from behind Severus's lips. "Have you been getting enough to, uh, eat?" Harry blurted, immediately realizing the invitation he'd just issued.

Severus's lips spread wide into a feral smile, his fangs now clearly visible. He liked the effect he was having on Harry and, as far as he was concerned, the door had been opened. It was time to play. "Sustenance has not been a problem. Though, I'm a bit hungry now."

"Dinner is a ways out," Harry said, deliberately obtuse.

Severus's gaze narrowed. "Don't toy with me. I might be forced to . . . punish you."

Harry gulped as his stomach dropped out. "Oh, fuck," he whispered. Only Severus could put him so off-balance. Only Severus could make him feel like a blushing schoolboy. Fuck, he wanted him. He shook his head, trying desperately to clear it. He scrambled for a mundane conversation topic. He could think of nothing but how the weight of Severus's stare made his skin feel alive.

Foreign magic pressed against him. His skin tingled a bit and he scratched absently. When he looked up, he was surprised to see Severus's eyes boring into him. Like he had during the claiming ceremony. Harry suddenly realized where he'd been scratching. The claiming marks on his neck were visible. Just as the ones on his wrists had been when Severus had taken him to task over his chopping skills. Harry felt himself flush under the intensity of Severus's gaze and immediately looked down. He bit his lip. He could feel the magical energy in the room shifting. "How come I haven't felt you?" he asked, eyes still lowered.

Severus cleared his throat. "We haven't finished the claiming ritual. The bond is blocked."

"Ah," Harry said. He looked up again. Severus was staring at him through heavily lidded eyes. Merlin, he was a beautiful man. At least to Harry he was. He had a charisma that drew Harry in and left him breathless. Like now. "And what exactly do we have to do to finish the ritual?" Harry squeaked.

Severus smiled more broadly, making his fangs far more pronounced, and Harry understood exactly what was required.

"Ah," he said again.

The knick-knacks in the room started trembling. It felt like the air in the room was being sucked out through an intense vacuum. The walls and floors groaned from the pressure of it. And, still, Harry and Severus stared at each other, breathing heavily. Intoxicated by each other. There was a faint buzz in the room. Harry felt it skate across his skin. His eyes fluttered closed at the sensation. He reached up to scratch his neck again when a pale hand pulled it away. He opened his eyes to find Severus standing next to him, looming. His gaze was intense and made clear that Harry belonged to him.

"Don't," he whispered as he pulled Harry closer to him. "Those belong to me." Severus leaned in and licked languorously at the claiming marks on Harry's neck.

Harry's stomach seized and he shivered with intense delight. The Weasley picture fell to the floor with a sold thump. "Don't stop," he whispered as he felt himself freefalling into bliss. His eyes rolled back and his head fell to the side. Somehow, Severus was now holding Harry close to him, still tonguing his neck as if it were a delicate treat. "Oh, fuck, don't stop," Harry whispered again as he panted and pushed himself closer to Severus, demanding more pressure, more . . . more anything. And then, Severus nipped at his neck and Harry's world tilted. He moaned deep in his throat at the same time the pot on the stove leapt up and flung itself across the kitchen. Neither man noticed the irony of sauce dribbling down the wall as a small trail of blood trickled from Harry's neck.

"Fuck it," Harry said as he flew at Severus and knocked him into the wall and started kissing him violently.

Severus growled deep in his throat and spun them around, knocking Harry into the wall instead. Harry groaned and panted and writhed beneath Severus as he pulled Harry closer to him and continued nipping along the line of his neck.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, yes," Harry panted over and over. "Finish it, finish it," he chanted, with glazed eyes.

Severus pressed closer to him and kissed him viciously, drawing blood from Harry's bottom lip. "Is this what you call going slow?" he murmured with a roughened voice.

Harry covered Severus's cock with his hands and squeezed, causing Seveurs's eyes to roll back at the unexpected pleasure. "No," he panted as one hand snaked around and pulled Severus's head closer to him. "No, I call this closure," he said as he pulled Severus in for the kiss.

That was all the invitation Severus needed. He growled, picked Harry up and threw him into the leather chair so that Harry's front was facing the back of it. He charmed their clothing away, climbed onto the chair so that his knees were to the outside of Harry's, Accio'ed Harry's lubricant and started roughly preparing him.

"Oh, fucking gods yes!" Harry cried as his hips undulated and he panted and moaned. He braced himself against the back of the chair as Severus's body pushed against his. "Now, Severus, for fuck's sake now," he screamed, pushing against Severus's fingers.

Severus roared as he removed his fingers, hastily slicked his cock and drove it into Harry. There was nothing soft, or slow about this. It was hot, rough, needy, and desperate.

Harry screamed as Severus slammed into him and against the back of the chair. "Fuck!"

"Oh yes, Harry, fuck is right. I am going to fuck you through this chair. And you know why, Harry? Do you?"

Harry shook his head back and forth violently as he continued to glory in the assault. "No," he wailed. "Tell me. Fucking tell me!"

"Because you're mine. My consort. My love. My mate."

"Oh, gods, yes, yes, yes, yes," Harry cried. He could feel all of the claiming marks burning�demanding that the ritual be competed. "Finish it, finish it, finish it," Harry chanted in a breathy whisper.

Severus wrenched Harry's head to the side. "I love you Harry. I will love you for all time," he cried before swiping his tongue across Harry's neck. "I bind you to me as I am bound to thee," he whispered as his fangs slipped into the claiming marks and he began to suck greedily.

Harry writhed and cried and begged for the moment to both end and never end. Pain, pleasure, and everything in between coursed thorough him as he screamed, and screamed, and screamed.

The sound of it was beautiful to Severus's ears. It was the scream of pleasure so intense, so exquisite that there was no other way in which to express it. Severus continued to slam into Harry and Harry gave back as good as he got. He felt himself drawing closer. The ecstasy of being in Harry, drinking Harry was reaching its climax. He could feel their minds joining, he felt everything Harry had ever felt; saw everything Harry had ever seen; knew everything there was to know about Harry. He knew Harry was experiencing the same thing�he could feel it. He reached around and curled his still-lubricated fingers around Harry's prick and began pulling and squeezing.

Harry's back arched as much as it could. He could feel his orgasm coming�he could see it, taste it, smell it. The feel of Severus drinking from him, the feel of Severus pounding into him, the feel of Severus's slicked fingers on this sweat-slicked cock, the feel of Severus's mind joining his, his memories, his emotions, becoming his, was too much. His body stilled, buffeted by the unrelenting ecstasy flying at him. It was there, there, there, there, there�oh fuck�and he was there, and, fucking Merlin, Seveurs was there, there�and they were both there�together, they were THERE, and Harry's entire world exploded. Vaguely he heard Severus roar "MINE", felt a rush of warmth inside and out, and smelled the sharp tang of blood and sex. Boneless, he fell back into Severus. They slipped from the chair and landed in a heap on the floor, both panting heavily, both covered in sweat and sex and glorious, glorious completion.

Harry felt Severus pull him close and murmur something in his ear that sounded remarkably like, "I love you," or, "the sauce is ruined," Harry didn't know which. He didn't care, either. He felt a blanket being laid across him as he automatically snuggled closer to Severus. He felt woozy and spent and sated. Harry tried to say something witty, but never got the chance as his world finally grayed out while he lay there with his mate, bathed by hovering orbs of gentle light.



Artificial Life - Chapter 17

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