Chapter 8
Snape leans against the threshold of the kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest. He initially felt anger when the bartender, the same one you snogged right in front of him, appeared at your door. Now, he feels irritated more than any other emotion. Your hands are fastidiously tending to his injuries. The young man is rather beat up - Snape is impatiently waiting to hear the story.
Snow falls heavily outside, making a thick silence through the house. Your footsteps lightly thud against the floors as you walk from the refrigerator to the bartender.
“What happened?” you ask, placing an ice wrapped hand towel over his nose.
“Oh, you know, I’m knackered as hell, some guys at pthe pub were catcalling a regular. Had to defend her honor,” Cole brushes off, laughing.
“Well, I hope they’re worse off than you,” you say, gesturing to his face.
Cole grins, and before he can speak, you see flashing blue lights illuminate the large kitchen windows - a police car quickly passes by.
“I reckon that’s for em’,” Cole nods in the direction of the pub.
Snape watches you grab his hand and place it where you’re holding the ice. When he grabs it, you use both hands to open the medicine kit you grabbed out of the loo.
“Nothing is bleeding too badly,” you murmur. “But you should keep these covered for a few days.” You tap your finger to the side of his temple - two small gashes are just above his brow. You cleanse them with saline, then bandage them with steri strips.
Cole lifts up the side of his shirt, revealing already bruising ribs. “Anything for this, doc?” he asks, grinning.
While you laugh at his rather friendly joke, Snape is sure his eyes roll so far back that he can see the vessels that connect his eyeballs to his brain. The young man is fit, which rubs Snape the wrong way, makes him feel vulnerable, like his relationship with you is challenged by him. He knows he ought not to feel this way, he cannot help it though.
When you go down the hall to the bathroom to fetch Cole something else, he murmurs “I suppose I interrupted something?” He raises his head to look at Snape, who merely stares down at him and keeps his arms tight across his chest. “I could’ve gone back to my place, but didn’t want the cops to stop me on the way,” he admits. “I’m not very good friends with them ‘round here.”
Snape scoffs - what is this guy, a delinquent? “You’ll be on your way soon enough,” Snape finally speaks. You take your time finding whatever you’re looking for. Snape cocks a brow, deciding to find out the details between you and him, then speaks, “how long have you known [first name]?”
The bartender thinks briefly. “We were probably six and eight when we met in primary school. I went off to a different secondary school as [first name], but transferred to her secondary school for my last year. We were friendly with each other, but definitely had different social circles.”
Snape merely hums, doesn’t reply, mostly because it doesn’t sound like you’re friends. You’ve returned with some medicine, divided some pills up into two zip locked bags.
“The circle ones for general pain and the oval ones for severe pain.” Cole raises his brows and tentatively takes them from you. “They're not mine,” you point out. “They’re my granddad’s.”
Snape presses his lips together. He’s noticed you talk about your grandfather like he is still here. Obviously, he isn’t going to point it out to you. It cannot be healthy, however.
“I owe you one, [first name],” Cole says, groaning as he stands up.
He wraps one arm around you and you smile at him a little too sweetly. Your eyes are lit up and your body language is too comfortable. Snape pushes this feeling of jealousy away - you’ve already promised yourself to him. Cole approaches Snape and holds a hand out. Snape looks at it, then back to him, not making any move to shake it.
“I get it, mate, I’ll leave,” Cole says, laughing. You eye Snape harshly as you follow Cole into the foyer.
“Are you sure you can make it home okay?” you ask, gently. “I can walk with you.” Snape’s eyes widen and he’s sure he’ll have an aneurysm at any moment now.
Cole shakes his head. “Don’t worry yourself with it, you got me all patched up. Your friend here would like your undivided attention back,” Cole points out.
He opens the front door and Snape is internally cheering now. “If you ever need a hand at the bakery, I’m free every morning,” Cole offers.
You smile softly. “I’ll keep you in mind,” you assure. Snape rolls his eyes again and strides back into the kitchen.
You lock the door behind Cole and watch him stumble out of your driveway through the window. “I hope he gets home alright,” you murmur. You turn around to find Severus gone from your sight. As you creep towards the doorways of the kitchen and living room, you spot the pantry open and the light on inside. Striding to it, you furrow your brows - Severus is rummaging through the items on the shelves.
“What are you looking for?”
He scoffs, as if it’s a ridiculous question. “A drink,” he informs. You sigh, then go to the cupboards in the kitchen island, retrieving the few bottles of liquor you have. Severus reaches over you and picks up the scotch, begins to unscrew it.
“I’ll get you a cup,” you say, opening the dishwasher. .
“Do you like the bartender?” Severus asks suddenly from behind you.
You laugh once, nodding. “Yes, we’re familiar with one another. Not exactly friends but he’s alright. Seems like fun, ” you reply.
When you turn around with the cups in your hands, his eyes are burning into yours. Then you realize what he means by his question. “No, I don’t like him, Severus,” you quickly make clear.
Severus hums a sound of disbelief, then grabs the cups from you and pours you both enough for a shot. You flick on the dim light above the kitchen window and turn on the radio on the counter, tuning it until you find a channel you fancy.
“I don’t take you for a hip hop man,” you laugh. Severus scoffs, leaning against the kitchen island. You find the alternative and rock station. You listen for a moment. “This one’s good,” you murmur.
You return to his side and grab your glass of scotch. You raise it and grin up to Severus. “Happy birthday,” you say.
“You’ve already told me that,” he states, unamused.
You tap your cup to his and you both swallow the drink. “I will tell it to you…” you look at the clock. “…for fifty more minutes if I want to.” You grin up at him like a kid and it forces a small smirk at his lips.
“I have to go back to work tomorrow,” Severus says after a moment. You frown and grab the bottle, topping off your glasses.
You don’t want him to go back to work. You expect he stays at the school both day and night. Which means much less time to see each other. You both swallow the alcohol. It must be making Severus warm because he begins to unbutton his frock coat. He slips it off, revealing his fitting white dress shirt. You reach out and run your hand down his arm, feeling his taut muscles beneath the fabric. In the dim kitchen light, he looks relaxed, almost in the proper place. His cheeks glow and his eyelids half close.
“So…we will see one another on weekends?”
Severus smiles small, almost apologetically. “I will try to come to see you often,” he begins, “I am praying they find a replacement for me soon.”
“I have the bakery closed on Wednesdays, if you can get away,” you add.
Severus’ lip curls up and he steps towards you, eyeing you up and down. It almost makes you uncomfortable, but it doesn’t. It turns you on.
“To see you…” his hand reaches out and caresses your cheek - you lean into his palm. He sighs deeply, then traces down to your neck, fingers brushing over each of your collar bones. “…and this beautiful body of yours, I will make time.”
You step into him and lean up, he kisses you before you can kiss him. He tastes like whiskey, his lips are warm and smooth, the scent of his clothes and skin are enough to drive you to euphoria. When your hands run down his chest, towards his belt, he snatches your wrists and halts you.
“I want to spend time with you tonight,” Severus reminds. You roll your eyes and you gasp lightly when he grabs your chin between his thumb and fingers. “Don’t be a brat, darling. I could fuck you senseless tonight, but then the next time I see you, you’d have little to look forward to.”
Your cheeks rush with blood. He has a point. He lets you go and strides to the island, grabbing the bottle of liquor off of it. He doesn’t move for a moment - he’s thinking, concocting something, you’re sure. When he turns, he has a small grin on his lips.
“Let’s play a game, shall we?”
Nestled in on the couch with the bottle of alcohol on the coffee table, Severus explains the little game he wants to play. You ask each other questions - you either can answer or you must take a shot. Seems simple enough. Severus opens his mouth to begin, but you quickly put a finger to his lips.
“Why do you get to go first?” you complain. Severus grabs your hand in front of him and opens his mouth, taking your finger inside of it. He sucks on it, slowly and leisurely, staring at you deeply. Your neck and face are surely turning red.
“Severus…” you sigh. He releases your finger and shrugs.
“Shall we arm wrestle for it?” he offers, raising a brow. You laugh and cock your head.
“Fine, but when you lose, don’t take it harshly,” you toy. He scoffs in disbelief. You’re confident in your muscles, you lift heavy things all the time at the bakery. You prop a throw pillow in between you both and place your elbow on it. Severus does the same and you grab each other's hands.
“On three,” you inform. You count, and on three, Severus doesn’t go easy. He immediately applies his strength. You groan and place a foot on the floor, fighting his hand back. Mustering all of your possible force, you begin to win, pushing his hand down.
“See? I’m…gonna win…” you groan. He chuckles lowly, almost evilly, and slams your hand back in a split second, becoming the winner. You gasp, then slap his leg, giving him a dirty look. His strength surprises you - sure, he’s fit but he’s not a bloody body builder.
“Fine, whatever, start,” you insist, pouring a shot into each of your cups.
“What was your first time like?” he immediately inquires.
You choke on your breath, then begin to laugh out loud. Severus cocks a brow upwards, clearly wanting to know.
“Oh, Jesus Christ, fine. It was the summer between my graduation and beginning university. It was an old classmate at a pub. We fucked in the car, it was cramped and he didn’t know anything about pleasing a woman, it was actually quite awful. Luckily, I was knackered.”
Severus purses his lips then gestures to you. “Your first time?” you wonder. There’s a part of you that thinks deep down Narcissa was his first time. In the few interactions you’ve seen them, they’re close. They talk about difficult things with ease. You hold a hand out, wondering when he’s going to answer you.
“It was Narcissa. After I graduated. A stupid decision, but lovely coitus,” he honestly admits.
“I fucking knew it!” you exclaim. Severus leans back, looking at you up and down.
“Are you angry?” You shake your head.
“No, just a little…irritated, I suppose,” you reply. Severus smirks at you, almost endearingly.
“If you didn’t run the bakery, what would you do?” Severus asks.
You think for a moment. “Honestly? Probably bartend, or maybe I’d gone to school for teaching,” you ponder.
“Really? Teaching? What would you teach?” Severus asks, his interest peaked. You shake your head, grinning.
“One question at a time,” you remind. Severus rolls his eyes at you. “What’s your worst memory?”
Severus keeps his eyes on you for a moment long enough for you to brew a pot of coffee. He slowly reaches out for his glass and downs his shot. Damn it. Now you really want to know.
“What’s your worst memory?” he shoots back. You inhale deeply, knowing immediately it’s the night your grandfather died. You can’t bring yourself to say it out loud, nor talk about it. You and him both knew it was happening, your granddad dying, and at his request, you gave him more pain medicine than you were instructed. He went peacefully minutes later. But you can’t find the words to say outloud to explain that, so you take a shot.
“What do you wish I was wearing right now?” you ask. Severus eyes you and your body, reaches out and grabs your face, then runs his hand down your throat, then to your chest.
“Something very slutty. With a gag in that little mouth of yours and arms bound behind your back,” he drawls in that low, sexy voice.
Your heart begins to pound inside your chest. That was certainly unexpected, considering he said he didn’t want to shag tonight. It turns you on, makes you squeeze your legs together. Perhaps he’s doing it purposefully.
“Does that turn you on?” he questions.
You swallow, then ask, “is that your question?” He nods curtly. You cannot answer that without becoming more turned on, so you take another shot.
“How are your baking lessons going?” you ask, because you can’t think of anything at the moment. Severus chuckles lowly.
“I enjoy my instructor immensely. You could say that I’m hot for teacher,” he says, very seductively.
You moan out loud and throw your head back - you want him to shag you much more now. This is the first time you hear Severus actually laugh. It’s not loud, but he is cracking up, softly but clearly thrilled. His mouth is open, lips turned up, crooked teeth peeking out. It is almost mesmerizing to hear and see.
“Sexual fantasy you dream of?” he queries.
You take a shot - not because you don’t want to say it, but it’s a bit taboo. You don’t know how Severus would take you wanting a consensual non-consensual role play. You feel he’d probably be open to it, but it’s still too soon in your relationship to talk about that. Severus purses his lips, seemingly disappointed in your lack of response. You clear your throat.
“Do you want children?” you wonder. Severus sighs deeply, then takes a shot. He gestures to you.
“And, you?”
You shrug. “I’m not sure. I don’t know if I’d be a good mum,” you admit.
Severus frowns. “I’d like to think otherwise. You took care of the bartender tonight with no questions or complaints. You’d take care of a child better,” Severus analyzes.
You shrug, feeling indifferent. You have a hard time taking care of yourself some days. A full time child would be difficult for you, in your opinion. Severus stares at you, waiting for your question, but all you can think about is his cock and how handsome he is. The alcohol is getting to you now. You’ve lost count on how many drinks you’ve had.
“How badly do I have to beg for you to fuck me tonight?”
Severus’s throat makes a choking sound. “Don’t be bad, [first name], I said not tonight,” he reminds, sternly, shifting around where he sits. You raise your hands defensively. He reaches over and runs his hand up your thigh, applying pressure around your hip, making you tense.
“Now, how turned on are you?” Severus asks.
“Really,” you say, giggling, “…really turned on, really needy,” you whine. It’s your turn now, and you quickly ask, “how would you like to show me how you like to kiss me?”
Severus smirks, then grabs your other hip, yanking you on top of him. He grips your thighs, spreading them, then forces you to sit on his lap. You hum pleasantly, grabbing at the chest of his dress shirt, leaning into his lips.
His lips are warm, soft, like he’s used chapstick today. They entangle in your own, slowly and gently, his teeth brushing against yours. He runs his hands up the inside of your shirt, tracing up your back, then down to your arse. He slips a hand inside your pants, squeezing, making you open your mouth and moan against his lips.
He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, sweeping across your own tongue, dominatingly. You grind your hips against his, forcing a lovely moan from him, which you inhale into your lungs. Your fingers unbutton the top three buttons of his dress shirt and you pull it open. When you’re out of air, you pull back, kissing his jaw, planning on going downward. Dark hair lightly scatters across his pale skin, his collar bones are sharp, his neck is long and delicious. Before you can touch your lips to the scarred portion of his neck, he seizes the nape of your neck, keeping you still.
“That is a painful area right now,” he shifts, sitting up, clearing his throat. “I typically get it treated weekly, but missed my appointment,” he explains.
You frown, unsure of what to say. “We’re not done with our game,” Severus informs. He grabs your hips again, lifting you off of him. You plop back down on the couch, feeling woozy.
“How do you win this game?” you ask, with your eyes shut.
“When one of us is too drunk to keep going, the most sober one wins,” he informs. You raise your hand.
“I lose,” you tap the couch dramatically. Severus shakes his head, grinning.
“It’s my turn again, since you just asked a question,” he states. You roll your eyes, then move your hand in a circular motion, hurrying his question.
“Why aren’t you happy?” he wonders, quietly.
You slowly inhale, shifting in your seat. You stare at him, then reach for a shot, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you. He wants you to answer. His dark eyes pierce yours, waiting patiently. You take your arm down away from his hand, crossing your arms and beginning to rub them.
“I don’t know, Severus,” you brush off. “I’ve been happy with you, is that what you're asking?”
He shakes his head once, thinking about what he wants to say for a moment. “The first day I met you in the bakery, I could see in your eyes you were unhappy. Occasionally, you look like you’re walking with extra weight on your back, like you’re exhausted. You get frustrated easily - you haven’t always been easily frustrated?”
You shake your head. No, you haven’t. Severus stares at you, silently urging you for your answer. You shrug, sighing. “I don’t know, Severus,” you say again, your words slurring.
“It is because your grandfather died?” he asks, almost suggesting. You don’t move for a moment, not wanting to answer. “Talk to me, darling,” Severus hankers.
“Yes, yes, because he fucking died, Severus!” you nearly yell. He cocks his head, like I told you, you get frustrated easily. “I’m not frustrated! This is a stupid fucking game!”
You grab the bottle of alcohol and take a big drink, grimacing from the bitter taste. “My nan doesn’t know me most days, my parents, who are dead, were only children. I have no other family,” you rant, slamming the bottle down. “I had to watch my grandfather die slowly. It took him months of comfort care to finally go. He had to suffer! My mind is consumed with it everyday.”
You take a deep breath, feeling tears come to your eyes - you really miss your grandfather. You look down, rubbing them furiously to force the tears away. Your throat tightens and your chest burns and you actually hate this. But it feels relieving to talk about it. You’re drunk anyway, you won’t remember this, hopefully.
“I don’t have a family. Nobody needs me. Sometimes… I wish I were dead. Life is too hard most days, it’d be easier to be dead, you know?” you choke out.
Without speaking, Severus leans forward and wraps his arms around you, bringing you into his chest in a tender embrace. You bite down on your lip, trying not to cry.
“I understand very much, darling,” he murmurs. Tears fall from your eyes and onto his shoulder, he doesn’t seem to care. You stay like that for a while - hugging each other, you crying, Severus whispering sweet things. When you pull away, you wipe your face with your arm, laughing once.
“I’m pathetic,” you murmur. Severus shakes his head once, assuring you you’re not.
“Why aren’t you happy?” you laugh out. Severus hands you a shot and you take it without thinking. He proceeds to take another as well.
“I’m not unhappy, not anymore,” he speculates. “Once I’m free of my responsibilities at Hogwarts, I can spend more time with you. I look forward to that.”
You stare at him fondly, and you think for a moment that you really like him. Placing a hand on his face and leaning forward, you kiss him deeply. He exhales, returning your affection.
“I’m so knackered,” you giggle into his lips. He grins, kissing you once more.
“I am as well,” he admit. “We ought to go to bed, it’s very late now. I’m sorry to have to leave you in just a few hours,” he explains. When he stands, he holds a hand out for you. When you grab it, he pulls you up. You sway and the world around you spins.
“Fuck,” you complain, grabbing his other hand. “Oh, now we’re dancing,” you say, drunkenly amused. You raise his hands up and over your head and do a little spin, laughing lightly. Severus chuckles, watching you, clearly delighted.
He leads you to the stairs, letting you step up them first, keeping a hand on your back for stability. You grasp the railing tightly, swaying. On the third step, you turn around to face him, and without a word, you wrap your arms and legs around him. He groans with the extra weight on his body, but doesn’t appear to mind it. He wraps one arm around your back and slowly ascends the staircase with some extra effort.
“Am I heavy?” you slur, your head knocking back. He groans, stepping onto the landing.
“You’re not light,” he informs, sitting you down. You brace yourself on the wall as you head to the bathroom. You push the door open harshly, making it slam against the wall.
“Oops,” you shrug.
“What are you doing?” Severus complains, following after you. You sit down on the toilet and begin to piss.
“Severus, do you want my bladder to burst?” you say, slowly, drunkenly. He sighs, leaning against the threshold of the bathroom, crossing his arms. He turns an eye when you finish and flush the toilet.
“I need a shower, actually,” you say, giggling.
Severus scoffs loudly. “Are you joking?!” he demands.
You lean down into the tub and flick the faucet on dramatically. “No.” You pull your sweater up, to take it off, but begin to struggle. Severus watches you, irritatedly. He shouldn’t have gotten you so drunk. After another attempt, Severus strides to you and yanks it off your head, pulls it off your arms, throws it into the hamper. His eyes drop to your chest, taking in your bra covered breasts.
“Shower with me,” you implore. He leans against the sink, his eyes tracing up and down your body.
“Undress,” he begins. “Slowly,” he requests
You reach behind you and unclasp your bra, slowly pushing the straps down your arms. “Like this?” you tease. He hums, approvingly.
“Go on,” he insists, snapping his fingers. You try not to grin like a teenager. You slip your bra from your chest now, then toss it at him. He lets it bounce off his chest and to the floor. He strides to you, grasping one breast with his hand - it’s so large it covers your entire breast.
He sighs, grabbing the other one now, taking his fill of them. After politely feeling you up, he leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth, gently sucking. You press your hand against the wall, moaning lowly. He brings it between his teeth, lightly biting now.
“Fuck, Severus, if you aren’t going to fuck me, then stop with the teasing!” you whine. He immediately removes his mouth and hands from you, glaring down at you now. Roughly, his hand comes out to grab your jaw.
“Take your bloody shower,” Severus dismisses, snatching his hand away. Jesus, he must be tired. All of these conflicting actions he’s pulled tonight has your mind boggled. You step into the shower and pull the curtain shut.
You put your hair up in a bun, just wanting to rinse off. The hot water feels good on your skin, but makes you feel more drunk. You’re splashing your face when the shower curtain slides open. Glancing behind your shoulder, you see Severus behind you now, nude.
He doesn’t speak, but grabs your waist, pushing you against the cold, damp tile wall. You gasp, seeing him kneel down in front of you, the water running over him. Without a word, he shoves your legs apart, head diving between your thighs. The first swipe of his hot tongue makes you nearly scream. You put a hand on his shoulder, gasping when begins to press harder and move his tongue faster.
“Severus,” you breathe. He groans, seemingly liking the sound of his name coming from your mouth. “Severus, Severus,” you pant. His nose rubs against your clit, his tongue laps at your cunt, his hands grasp each thigh. Digging your nails into his shoulders, you nearly lose balance when you feel the pleasure of an organ begin to brew. “I’m going to - ah - fucking fall,” you moan.
He groans again, sending a pleasant vibration through you, then pulls each leg over his wet shoulders, holding you against the shower wall now. You throw your head back, moaning wildly now - he’s not pulled away once from your core. “So…good, Severus,” you cry, grabbing the hair at the back of his head, pulling at it while you cum. He hums, gratifyingly, holding the tops of your thighs as you tense around his mouth.
He pulls away, slowly breathing, staring up at you. Without much movement on your part, he stands, adjusting your legs so they're wrapped around him. He places his hands under your arse, spreading his legs slightly. As you look down to get a glimpse of his cock, he slams it inside you, roughly, fully, unrelentingly.
“Oh, my god,” you sigh. He presses his body into yours and it feels intoxicating - your breasts pressing against his chest, his rough skin, feeling the hair on his chest, your legs wrapped around his waist. You grab at his face, pushing his wet hair from his eyes, slicking it back for him. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, then kisses you with his tongue.
“You are one thing I am finding myself unable to resist,” he whispers, then pulls out of the core, slamming back in. You grunt, grasping his shoulders. He leans into your neck and begins to thrust now. Your breasts bounce against him and his fingers dig into your arse. You’re moaning wildly now, his cock fills you in a beautiful way in this position, you’re still so sensitive from his mouth.
“Tell me how it feels,” Severus commands, laboredly. You arch your back, humming and whining every time he slams into you.
“It’s so fucking good,” you sigh, dropping your head on his shoulder. “Don’t stop fucking me like this,” you beg agaisnt his skin.
He groans out loud, thrusting harsher now, panting in your ear. “I want to cum on your face,” he informs. You nod, yelling out when he hits the most sensitive part of you. “Would you like that, you little slut?” he groans.
“Yes, please, please cum on my face, sir,” you beg. He throws his head back - his eyes are on yours now, boring into them. He leans back, looking down your body, to your core, where his cock is taking its fill of you. He pulls out of you, then carefully lets you down, grabbing his hard shaft.
“Get on your knees,” he commands, beginning to stroke himself roughly. You drop down, holding the back of his knees, staring up at him - well, at his hand around his cock. You’ve never seen a man stroke his own cock so passionately. He pumps himself both delicately and violently, while the shower pours over him. He stares down at you viciously and it only turns you on.
“Please cum for me, Severus,” you beg, filthily. He groans loudly, slamming a hand against the wall. “Please cum on my face,” you beg, knowing it will throw him over the edge.
“Here you are, you filthy whore,” he sighs, ceasing his stroking, leaning an arm against the wall. He presses his cock to your face and thick, rope-like cum erupts from the tip. He looks fixedly upon you, panting, watching his semen decorate your face.
Shame passes over you briefly - such a dirty thing to partake in, you suppose. Once Severus composes himself, he helps you up, grabbing your jaw, seemingly taking a mental note of how you look. He grabs a washcloth and gently begins to wipe your face off.
“Thank you,” he says, clearing his throat. “That was…unexpected, forgive me.”
He lets your face go when you’re cleaned off. “I let you do it, I wanted you to, it’s your birthday, after all.” One side of his lips curls up ever so slightly, then he kisses your forehead.
You both step out of the shower. You reach for a towel, but before you can grab it, Severus retrieves his wand from his clothes and waves it over the both of you, drying you off instantly.
Either of you do not say another word after that. You merely get into bed and under the covers, where sleep finds you both quickly.