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The slide of sweaty skin against sweaty skin, the satisfying tug of
painfu
lly tight flesh
around his cock as he pulled out, only to plunge deeply back into his lover's body
, the pulsing of his own incipient orgasm... these were the things that Severus chose to dwell upon as he once more capitulated to his baser needs. Lucius always had a way of getting what he wanted from life, no matter the obstacle, and it appeared that the pureblood's want included Severus' own body at
the moment.
If only it were so simple for Se
verus. If only physical release could meet
Snape's own desires.
Since his near death, Severus had come to realize that his
obsession with Lily was not the root of his deeper problems. He finally comprehended
as he lay in the
twilight world between death and life that he had always wanted, no,
needed
to be loved.
In the weeks of recovery after he survived the foul snake's bite, Severus had vowed to himself that he would no longer settle for the half-life he had led in the past. He would take from the world what he needed...
And yet, here he was being used once again, this time as an animated sex toy . Lucius was constitutionally incapable of love. He had proved that over and over again, hadn't he?
But therein lay the confusion, because Lucius, for all his high-handed pure-blood bigotry, for all his seemingly inborn superiority, had said three words to Severus that meant more than any over-blown protestation of love.
"I need you." Lucius had panted those words not in the heat of passion, not to induce Snape to enter him to spark his release. He said them over one of the lazy brunches in which he indulged during Severus' few stolen moments away from Hogwarts , with a vulnerability that Snape hadn't seen since the Dark Lord haunted the Manor during the war. He said those three words as Severus once again tried to extricate himself from the pull of Lucius' ever tightening seduction.
Now, as Lucius lay beside Severus in a post-coital state of disarray that was both charming and slightly maddening, Malfoy said, "You're thinking again."
Lucius turned fully to Severus, his face inches from Snape's . "I can always tell when you're going to try to pull away again by the pucker between your brows and they way your mouth thins."
Malfoy lifted his hand, running a long. aristocratic finger down the aforementioned lines. " Don't be tedious, Severus. I thought we had all of this resolved before we made love ."
Lucius' fingers brushed Severus' cheeks, his mouth, a light caress that left a bewildering sense of debt in Severus. He was unused to gentleness. It scared him .
"We fuck , Lucius, " Severus countere d, pushing Lucius' hands away . "Don't pretend that there is more to our coupling than mere animalistic release for you . I give you my cock, and you're a hole in which I spend myself. I won't let myself believe it is more."
"You said that to wound me, Severus." Lucius sat up, the bedding falling down around his hips. He presented a pretty picture even with the small paunch around his midsection, his body's only concession to middle age. Severus glanced at Malfoy's face. The older man's expression was marble smooth, completely devoid of any emotion. "I think you should leave now."
Severus rose, pulling on his hastily discarded clothes as he fought the panic that rose in him. He damned his cruel mouth for once again uttering unforgivable words, even if they did protect him from the pain of caring for a person who could not love him.
He crossed to the door and paused as a sigh that sounded suspiciously like a sob issued from Lucius. Without looking back he said, "You have me so twisted, Lucius, so confused... I don't know if this thing between us is part of a deeper emotion, or if I’m simply another acquisition. You know that I find you... beguiling. Yet... I know what I am, what I look like next to you. I know that I am not bewitching in any way. I don't want a momentary attraction you may feel to be all that is between us. "
Lucius remained silent as Severus stepped into the hall. He made his lonely way back to Hogwarts, the prospect of more empty years once again a reality.