[HP] Secret help

of.

The two were panting violently, like the last sprint of a marathon, Snape was pressing on Harry's body, and they were stuck together without any gaps, Harry heard the sound of his heart beating against his ribs, The one on the left was his, the one on the right belonged to Snape, he felt hot, and perhaps Snape was no exception, and he squeezed his cold, stiff fingers into the hem of Snape's shirt and climbed up his sweaty back, while Snape As if startled by the sudden movement, Nepe brushed the tip of his tongue over the soft/flesh of Harry's fragile inner lip, and then left.

"I almost killed you." Snape seemed to have finally calmed down from his rage, he whispered, but his lips did not move from Harry's.

"No." Harry answered subconsciously.

"The speed of thinking is so fast that you can't imagine, even your amazingly stupid little head is no exception, and in the dream, your head belongs to me, do you understand? I just need to stimulate you to think quickly To react, do you think it took as long as a century? No, maybe only a few seconds." Snape's voice was steady, but Harry felt that he was about to shatter, cracking from the inside bit by bit, Every word adds a crack, "I could trap you there, in my head, and you have no choice."

"I almost killed you," Snape said again.

"Come on then, Severus." Harry said vaguely, calling out Snape's name for the first time in reality.He lowered his head and kissed Snape's chin, throat, down to the little dimple between his collarbones, "Come then, come and take my life, he was yours in the morning. Where would you like to be, in my bed?" "

So they went back into the bedding and sheets.

The curtains were drawn, leaving only a finger-width slit through which the sun peeked in, and Snape pushed him face-down into the bed, peeling off the old pajamas from his shoulders, Harry's cheek sunken Inside the soft cotton pillow, he felt his arms being roughly tangled/entangled with his pajamas.

"Don't do this." Harry struggled and tried to turn over, but was pushed back to the original place by a hand, "Let me turn around."

Snape ripped off his trousers, and whispered behind Harry, "I just thought that a little pain and a certain level of humiliation might make Mr. Potter remember."

Snape's fingers sank into the skin covered with fat and muscle, pressing a small dimple, and sweat quickly accumulated inside. In fact, nowhere was dry. Harry seemed to be stuffed into the fire of an oven. The chicken, brushed with honey and olive oil, looked succulent - Snape did like coming from behind, as some golden boy once said, and not just some sort of punishment.

Everything was chaotic, Harry's mind was like a pot of porridge on the fire, bubbling, he was misty in the wafting smoke, under Snape's hands, floating under his lips and tongue, they seemed to be everywhere. I can go, I especially like the dimples of those muscles, and I also linger on the scars that have been smeared with white cream, and Harry has nowhere to escape, he can only writhe and tremble like a dying fish, as if he is also dying.

The pillow was slightly damp, whether it was his sweat or tears.Snape pressed Harry's neck hard and picked up his hips. His waist was bent like an arch bridge, showing his supple demeanor on the Quidditch pitch.

Harry heard someone screaming and groaning, the sound was close at hand but as if covered by a piece of glass, he was like a perpetual spinning top, his knees shaking spasmodically under Snape's constant whipping, if Without pulling, Harry could barely get on his knees.

This mental state was very familiar to Harry. In countless distorted days or nights surrounded by nightmares, his mind could not distinguish between reality and illusion, and he could not even distinguish between others and himself.

But he hasn't been like this for a long time, and he should have been cured long ago.

Harry looked sideways at the empty glass jar on the bedside table that hadn't been knocked to the floor. The doorknob at Spider's End had been his salvation, and now, he didn't seem to need it at all.

--is this real?

Suddenly, those seemingly never-tiring lashes stopped, and Snape leaned down and roughly kissed Harry's less protruding back spine, making him tremble like a hooked tongue.

"It's so true," Harry heard Snape say, "it's not just pain that wakes you up, Harry."

So he said it, and Snape heard it.

— Am I still alive?

"Perhaps dying."

Snape turned him over, and Harry finally saw Snape, through the thick water vapor and not low degree of myopia, saw a narrow light stop on Snape's shoulder and extend down, almost He cut it in half obliquely, under the light beam, Snape's pale skin was also covered with sweat, his fingers dug into Harry's thigh muscles, and the desire/desire was buried deep in his body, but the light went up , Snape's expression was vague and distant, but it seemed to be calm and flat, just like the deep ravine in the dream separating the two sides, he was crazy and calm at the same time.

But in the next second, Snape bent down, and the light that was as wide as the gap between his fingers disappeared. Harry saw the burning love in Snape's approaching eyes. He no longer contradicted himself, and finally healed into a whole .

They fall into an almost lengthy kiss.

a full can

"So - the Floo network in Spider's End was closed for three consecutive days until the fourth day. I couldn't bear it anymore and knocked on the door for almost a whole day. No one answered because you were lying in bed all day yesterday?!" Hermione pointed The screams almost toppled the ceiling of the living room.

Harry didn't look at her, but quietly turned his head and asked Snape, who was sitting on the armrest holding a small plate, "You still turned off the Floo network?"

Snape took a sip of the coffee in his cup and said lightly, "Just in case."

As for whether they were disturbed while they were rocking and crunching on the bed, only Snape knew.

"Harry—James—Potter!!!" Hermione nodded fiercely on Harry's forehead: "Are you listening to me!"

Harry threw up his hands in surrender: "Listening, listening, sorry Hermione, we just...really didn't hear yesterday."

"Hermione, don't you think it compares to this." Ron's expression has been a mixture of surprise and horror since he was placed on the sofa, "Harry and the old bat-Snape-Professor Snape, Together, it's even more surprising—is it surprising?"

Harry bet he meant horror at first.

"Dude, aren't you really drugged by Professor Snape? We're all here, and you blink when you get the love potion."

Harry stared at him speechless, while Snape rolled his eyes and said sarcastically, "Granger, I'm really sorry that you're going to change your surname to Weasley."

Hermione took a deep breath with a strange expression, and smiled at Harry again: "So you, or Professor Snape, whoever, can someone explain the situation to me?"

Harry hesitated for a while, squinting at Snape, who had been making no fuss - he really didn't know how to start.

The man who unbuttoned one more shirt button than usual put the white porcelain cup in his hand on the small saucer and made a soft "da" sound. He stood up from the armrest of the sofa, exuding a completely different smell from his body. Different in ease and leisure, Snape squinted at the young boy with different expressions slumped on the sofa, and asked in that still familiar deep voice: "Perhaps, you want to have a light meal here at night?"

"excuse me."

"Do not!!!!"

Two voices sounded at the same time, so three pairs of eyes looked at Ron at the same time. He looked like he was about to cry, and shrank back into the cushion under the compelling gaze, and said in a tone of grievance: "I mean, nothing too much trouble, Professor."

"So, I hope you're not picky eaters?" Snape floated the glass back to the sink and headed for the door.

"I can do anything." Hermione smiled and watched Snape pick up his coat and cardigan, and smacked the back of Ron's head without looking away.

Ron was caught off guard and jumped up from the sofa with an "Aww": "Me too!"

Harry stood up from the sofa and asked suspiciously, "Are you going out?"

He hadn't seen Snape go out for a long time, they always seemed to stay indoors.

"If you'd opened the fridge a few more times instead of staring at my poor eggs, you'd realize we've got nothing to eat." Snape gave Harry a disgusted look.

The boy was at a loss and stood there wearing a pair of plush slippers: "Don't you want me to go with you?"

Snape said, "I think the guests at home need you more."

Hermione gave him a distant nod, thanking Snape for their personal space.

"Okay." Harry stepped forward, muttered, took his scarf from the hanger and wrapped it around Snape's neck.Snape frowned and picked up the corner of the reddish-brown scarf to look at it, then glared at the innocent kid in front of him, and finally allowed it to stay on his neck.

Harry tugged at the end of the scarf to pull Snape's noble head down a bit, and looked at him with raised eyebrows. Snape gave Harry a disapproving look, and kissed him in the boy's narrow eyes. his forehead.

There was a whimpering sound from the sofa.

And Harry didn't seem to hear any abnormal noise, he let go of the hand holding the scarf and let Snape go: "Be careful on the road."

Snape seemed to be muttering something, but Harry didn't catch it. The man pulled the scarf on the bridge of his nose, and then glanced at the sofa as alms,