Entry tags:

art recs, bill/snape, nc-17, slash

FIC: "As the Gentle Rain" Part Three
Title: As the Gentle Rain
Author: joanwilder aka RaeWhit
Pairing: Bill Weasley/Severus Snape, Snape/Original Male Characters
Beta: jadzialove, as always, I'm in your debt for your time, encouragement, and expertise. A thank you to magic_helmet for the read-throughs and advice.
Rating: NC-17
Genres: Drama/Angst/Romance
Word Count: 29,000+
Warnings: BDSM, D/s. Highlight for specifics: erotic humiliation, extreme bondage, whipping, object penetration
Challenge: Written for thematic_hp Round Ten—BDSM, D/s challenge, for Prompt # 46—In public, he's in charge. In private, someone else is.
Disclaimer: All things Potter belong to J.K.Rowling and her book and film companies.
Summary: For Snape and Bill, obsession is only the beginning.


A/N: This story was inspired by my own obsession with a piece of artwork that appeared in this year's IJ hp_springsmut. After weeks of thinking about it, I contacted fanlay and received her blessing to write a story around it. Please, please take a look at her beautiful and haunting artwork Rain. My slightly insincere apologies to her for embellishing considerably upon her original vision of "an illicit, hurried liaison in heavy rain."

The story is completed and will be posted in its entirety by Sunday night EDT.

Start from the beginning."

***

They met outside Gringotts on August the eleventh. Bill was punctual, coming out of the doors at precisely noon. There was some awkwardness at the beginning, heightened by the change in Bill's appearance—wearing a set of Gringotts' standard wizarding robes, he seemed taller and older, was neatly groomed and sported a tiny fang earring. Even his voice seemed deeper, and more self-assured. He appeared genuinely pleased to see Snape, and Snape bit back the smile when he saw the man blush, and restrain himself to a hearty handshake.

They walked along the Alley, stopping in a shop or two where Snape still had purchases to make; this accomplished, they headed through the Leaky Cauldron, where they removed their wizarding robes, then ventured into Muggle London for lunch.

By this time, they were entirely comfortable with each other, something Snape'd worried about ever since he'd responded to Bill's owl. They exchanged news of what they'd been up to, then found themselves in a queue at the restaurant that Bill'd chosen for them.

Snape couldn't keep his eyes off of Bill, and didn't care when he was suddenly caught at it—he enjoyed the slight blush in the man's face when he realized Snape was watching him, although he didn't seem to be the least bit embarrassed. Leaning forward, Bill murmured close to his ear, "Are you hungry?"

Snape considered, then shrugged. "Not really." He met Bill's eyes. "Not for lunch, anyway." He took in a sharp breath when Bill, close enough to touch him, brushed a hand over his wrist.

"Then, let's go. We can eat later." Not waiting for a reply, Bill directed Snape firmly with a hand at his elbow, then out into the street, where the two of them took off at a fast clip. "I'm only around the corner."

There were both tall and long-legged, but still, Snape fought to keep up. As they walked at breakneck speed, Snape shot Bill a sideways glance and their eyes connected. Bill laughed and startled Snape when he took off at a run. Hesitating only for a moment, Snape followed.

They raced to the end of the street, where Bill tugged Snape up a flight of broad steps to a doorway. From the foyer, they walked quickly along the corridor to the lift, where once inside, they unashamedly panted from exertion, causing the other occupants to shift as far away as the tiny space allowed.

As they approached the door to Bill's flat, they were still breathing audibly as he let them in with his key.

"This is it," Bill said as he threw his key to the side and turned to Snape.

Snape ignored the room. "This is it," he said soberly.

"So, since we didn't eat, can I get you something to dr—" Bill stopped as Snape took a step toward him, shaking his head.

Placing his hand against Bill's chest, Snape took another step until they were face to face. Angling his head, he hesitated for a moment, their lips poised close together, but not yet touching. Snape could feel the heat of their skin, then moved that last little bit, slipping his tongue along the crevice of Bill's mouth. He felt a hand come up at his waist, then slide to the small of his back to pull them tight together. It was a gentler kiss than their first one, as they explored each other, mingling breath and patiently taking their time. When Snape finally turned his head to the side, he murmured at Bill's ear, "I'm going to finish what I started."

Without another word, he placed his hands on Bill's arms, then drew his hands downward as he fell to his knees in front of him. For an instant, he rested his face against the rough fabric of Bill's trousers, then pushed himself slightly away, bringing his hands from Bill's hips to his fly. He didn't hurry, methodically undoing one button at a time, then weaving his hand through the folds of his y-fronts. Bill had stood, quiescent, until Snape touched the skin of his cock to free it; his hands came up and took hold of Snape's hair, at the same time as he shifted slightly forward, groaning out something that sounded strangely like, "Ohgodyes,"

Snape smiled, holding the shaft firmly with one hand, while he used the fingers of the other to stroke it. "Hmmm, let me see, where was I?" he muttered just before he opened his mouth and swallowed the entire length, letting go to grab Bill at the hips. He almost gagged when Bill rutted forward suddenly and uncontrollably. Pushing his thumbs hard into the hollows of the hips, Snape gave a subtle warning that Bill must've understood, as he pulled back slightly, mumbling, "Sorry," as he worked his fingers into the hair at the back of Snape's neck.

Sucking for all he was worth, Snape plunged and pulled back, plunged and pulled back a half a dozen times, when he sensed Bill try to warn him, but Snape buried his nose in his crotch, his mouth full of cock and held on, swallowing almost convulsively. He could feel Bill stagger a bit as his legs lost their strength, but he held his feet, sighing loudly as he stroked Snape's hair with both hands, while Snape took his time to relinquish his cock, then noisily clean it with long strokes of his tongue. When he was finished, he sat back on his heels and looked up at Bill. Wiping at his mouth, Snape sucked on a finger, then pronounced, "Delicious."

Bill reached down and stroked Snape's cheek for a moment, then held out his other hand and easily pulled him to his feet. He didn't let go, but led them both down a short hallway into a sparsely furnished room: a lamp on a nightstand, a small wardrobe and a bed. Bill turned to Snape, unsmiling, and asked, "What would you like to do?"

Snape cast he eyes around the room, stalling for time. This wasn't how he'd thought things would go; no, this was so much better. No adolescent rush to do it all in one go. Snape saw possibilities here—he'd never expected Bill to ask what he wanted, and now…now, thinking back to what he'd seen in the man's mind, he suddenly felt sure of what he was about to do.

"Remember what I saw in your mind?" he asked softly, meeting Bill's eyes, and holding them even after he nodded. Snape took a step closer, then reached out to place a hand on each of his shoulders. "A picture is worth a thousand words," he murmured, watching Bill closely. To his credit, he got it immediately.

"You're sure?" Bill asked, placing his hands at Snape's waist.

"I am," Snape replied, taking a deep breath to prepare himself.

"Legilimens."

Snape heard the words as a whisper against his lips. He had to force himself not to Occlude as he felt the ice cold finger of another mind attempting to breach his own. Keeping his eyes open, Snape could no longer see Bill's face, as he concentrated on dropping his defenses and laying his memories and thoughts out like a welcome mat. He caught glimpses as they flitted past his sightless eyes, some of them quickly, others oozing like paint down a wall, the images blurred and distorted. The sensation of cold became one of pain.

It was an effort to keep his feet all of a sudden, and he felt himself stagger and strong hands anchor him. And still the reel rolled, vivid colors and flashes of sound and even smell assaulted him as it was all laid bare.

Abruptly, he felt the sharp stabbing pain recede, then Bill came into focus in front of him. Snape had to fight the urge to collapse against him, but did manage to mutter, "Make yourself at home, why don't you?" He heard Bill laugh, as if from a distance, and now he didn't resist when Bill led him to sit on the edge of the bed.

Reaching up, Bill tapped Snape's forehead with a fingertip. "This is what you want?" he asked.

Closing his eyes, Snape replied, "Yes."

"And it has nothing to do with what you saw in me?"

"Not at all," Snape told him, opening his eyes, puzzled.

Bill smiled. "Good."

***

Snape took a moment to remind himself that this had been his fantasy, just before the object of his obsession, obviously inexperienced but strangely not nervous, was about to penetrate him. He was folded in half, legs thrown over Bill's shoulders, watching as the man lubed himself between them. When he was done, Snape told him, "Use more."

There was one split second when they stopped to look at each other, and Snape had to blink as a drop of sweat from the tip of Bill's nose plunked into his eye. He was about to mutter something sarcastic, like, "Get on with it," when Bill surprised him by getting on with it in one seamless and sudden thrust that made Snape hiss with pleasure.

He prepared himself to move with the next plunge, but Bill surprised him by stopping, buried to his balls.

"What now?" Snape asked, panting.

"Are you always like this?" Bill asked, digging his nails into the flesh of Snape's collarbone.

Snape swallowed hard, as he detected the slight change in the timbre of Bill's voice. He shook his head. "No, I'm not."

"Then…" Bill pulled out slowly. "I'd like you to let me fuck you in peace, the way I want to do it, how fast I want to do it. Do you understand?" he asked quietly, but with an authority that made Snape's cock twitch between them.

"Yes."

"Yes what?" Bill prompted as he slammed home with a thwack.

Snape's eyes widened. "Yes, sir," he said with a sigh.



Fall 1989

Snape discovered he couldn't stay away, and if he had, he knew that the shoe would've been on the other foot, and weekends would've found Bill making the trip to Hogsmeade instead. They did that occasionally, but it was easier for Snape to go to London, where they had a place to cohabit for their days together. They were like two children in a candy shop in those first few months, as they both gave in to their fantasies and mutual obsession with an alacrity and frequency that had Snape thinking often of rabbits and other prolific species.

He found that having a steady partner and a routine were comforting. Although he did wonder sometimes how Bill knew the things that he did, Snape never came out and asked him directly. He assumed it wasn't just a matter of what Bill had seen in his mind, because Snape had seen much of the same in Bill's first. They just happened to share some particularly specific sexual tastes.

They did have a very forthright discussion of what each of them wanted, of what would be expected, as well as creating safe words and boundaries. Unlike the rooms Snape had frequented in Diagon Alley, the two of them agreed on a modest collection of accessories—a few gags, some uncomplicated bindings, a butt plug and some all-purpose rings and floggers.

And a collar of Bill's own choosing. They'd gone together to pick it out, and now Snape was never without it when they were together. Wider than what he was used to, it was lined with soft cloth on the inside, but minus the O-rings on the outside, except for the small one at the back where the leash attached. The first time Bill'd fastened it on him, Snape knelt, naked, in the middle of the sitting room.

"You will wear it at all times. If I'm not here when you arrive, you must immediately undress, put it on and kneel in this spot until I release you." Bill stroked his head, then signaled for Snape to lower his face to the floor. His foot on Snape's neck, he asked, "Do you understand?"

"Yes, master," Snape ground out of the side of his mouth, his cock already hard.

Later that evening, Bill sat in an armchair with Snape kneeling at his side. They'd had a small dinner of take-away earlier, and were talking over their week before they retired for the night.

"When did you first start to like me?" Bill asked.

Snape thought. "Like you? I've never liked you," he said dryly.

Bill laughed. "Do you know, I crushed on you in third year""



Looking horrified, Snape echoed, "Third year?"

"Yeah, but I'll tell you when it became something completely different. Something I knew was important, even though I was young."

Snape swallowed the urge to inform him that he was still young. Tilting his head to the side, Snape said, "I remember seeing you for the first time…in that way as well. When was it for you?" he asked.

Without hesitation, Bill told him, "The Sorting at the beginning of sixth year. I wasn't paying attention—reading, you see, and all of the sudden, I got this funny feeling, and I knew it was you watching me. I sort of looked up once, and you were. But instead of it creeping me out, I…"

Gooseflesh had come up on Snape's arms as he listened. The boy had seen him. "You what?"

"I had to run up to the dorm and wank. That's when I knew," he said rather smugly. "From that moment on, I thought about you…more than was healthy."

"Hmm, indeed," Snape said thoughtfully.

"So, when did you?" Bill asked, then when Snape looked puzzled, he added, "Notice me?"

"Oh," Snape tried to affect nonchalance, "the same evening. As you said, I was watching you. Quite by accident, really. But you reminded me of someone I once knew. It was a rather…singular moment," he murmured.

"Someone you cared about?" Bill asked, a bit darkly, making Snape laugh aloud.

"Yes, someone I cared about, but not in the way you think. She was a girl, and as you know, my interests lie elsewhere." He frowned for a moment. "I've been curious. You're aware of my preferences now…and some details of my past…and I was wondering, if you're disappointed…" he finished, stunned that he'd asked such a question.

But Bill shook his head emphatically. "Not at all. That was your past, wasn't it?" When Snape nodded warily, Bill reached over and tugged on the short leash to his collar. "I believe that life is all about what comes next."

***

Snape lay in the bed one night in the London flat, his chest to Bill's back, his arms curled protectively around him. He was trying to remember what he'd felt like when he'd been Bill's age, at nineteen.

He'd never been so mature, or self-assured. Sometimes he felt as if Bill were the elder of the two of them. He was a natural and unselfconscious leader, easy in his own skin, and sure of his abilities. Even though they'd been together less than six months, Snape trusted him implicitly, and obeyed immediately; actually, he wasn't surprised. Somehow, somewhere deep down inside, he'd known from that first moment when the idea had taken form in his head, back in Bill's sixth year, that they were made for this: a harmonious arrangement where both of them met each other's needs.

And unlike his 'scenes' with his prior masters, where he'd relished being bound, where his capacity to participate had been taken away, he now found what he felt was a nobler pleasure: the satisfaction of submitting to restraints that weren't physical at all, but ones that came as a result of his own choice to obey freely. Trust and obedience, willingly given, became the watchwords of Snape's life.

***

For the first time in his life, Snape looked forward to the Yule holidays—an extended stretch of days where he and Bill would be able to meet.

It was Boxing Day, and Bill was sitting astride Snape's hips, reaching over him to tie his hands to the bed posts. When he sat back to survey his handiwork, Snape said wryly, "If your mother could see you now."

Bill's eyes grew wide. "Oh god, don't say such a thing."

"She'd skin me alive, if she knew," Snape said soberly, grimacing as Bill tweaked both of his nipples simultaneously.

"Nah, she'd kill you in your sleep. I'm her firstborn, remember, and she expects bunches of little Weasleys some day."

"That should be interesting," Snape muttered as Bill leant in to shut him up.

°°°§§§°°°

1990-91

"They're incorrigible. And what's worse, they treat losing points and earning detention like they're badges of honor. Honestly, I don't know how your parents survived them, or why you older boys let them live."

Bill snorted. "Funny you didn't notice them last year."

"I think they were laying their plans of destruction and world dominance, getting ready," Snape opined. "Even Binns has complained, and no one ruffles Binns."

"Well, I'll let you in on a little secret. It might make a difference if you separate them—not only in class, but have their detentions at different times or on different nights. It's the one thing that really seems to bother them, being apart."

Snape scowled. "Well, I'll give it a try and pass it along to my colleagues if it seems to work." He thought for a moment, then smiled faintly. "I will say, though, I've never seen Peeves cry before."

Looking up, his eyebrows raised, Bill asked, "They made Peeves cry?"

Nodding, Snape laughed softly, his eyes glittering. "They did. It was a sight to behold."

That evening, Snape served Bill dinner, waiting patiently on his knees while Bill ate and fed him bites of food from his plate. Afterward, the two of them talked, Snape in his customary place at the foot of Bill's chair. For the last hour, Snape knelt up, clad only in his collar, and read to Bill from a book he'd chosen for them. Bill listened, his head thrown back, his fingers playing with the short leash tethered to Snape's neck.

When the clock struck ten, Bill stood and led Snape, on his hands and knees, to the bath, where he waited while Snape drew the water. Once the tub was full, Snape knelt to the side while Bill climbed in, then gathered the soap and flannel to wash his master. One of Snape's favorite activities was to wash his long red hair, and to afterwards brush it out in long even strokes.

They didn't always have sex when they finally went to bed, but on this night they did. Still damp from the bath, Snape's arms and legs were tightly stretched out, tied to the bed posts. Unlike most nights with his prior masters, Snape almost always was allowed to come before they went to sleep.

He moaned and arched upward as he felt the hot breath at his groin and a hand insinuating itself under his balls. It paused to roll them slowly, then he felt a single finger penetrate him.

"You like that, hmmmm?" Bill asked him breathily.

Straining at the ties, Snape muttered, "You have to ask?" and received a playful slap to the side of his thigh for his sarcasm.

"Severus, if you're very good, we'll do something different…"

Snape groaned, "I'll be very good, then."

Bill got right to it, then; splaying his hands on Snape's chest, he knelt between Snape's spread-eagled legs and vigorously and mercilessly proceeded to suck him off. Snape was breathless and trembling throughout most of it, arching up off the bed as much as his bonds would allow, but then was pinned to the mattress when he came, Bill's hands holding him firmly in place as he swallowed and sucked, and swallowed some more.

Still limp and slightly shaking, Snape was only vaguely aware that Bill had moved from atop him and was quickly untying the bonds.

"Come on, Severus. Up on your knees at the end of the bed."

Snape sluggishly obeyed, watching as Bill stretched himself out then beckoned with both hands. "Here, come up," he directed, reaching out for him.

On his knees, Snape scrambled forward, then at Bill's prodding he straddled his hips, reaching out to take hold of Bill's cock, fisting it several times as he watched the expression of sheer lust on Bill's face.

Bill ordered him, "More lube." Snape Accio'd the bottle, then liberally coated Bill's cock, doing it slowly and sensuously, enjoying the growing impatience in Bill's eyes.

"Lift up, and sit on my cock," Bill said huskily. "No hands. Put them behind your head."

Struggling to obey, Snape lifted as he placed his hands behind his head. He was unable to guide himself now, so completely exposed and vulnerable, as he felt Bill's hands on his thighs, moving him into position. Then with a pull downward, Snape was impaled so suddenly and forcefully that he cried out. He fought to not push up with his knees, as the ache of a sensation spread like fire through his groin. Bill held him there, his eyes fastened on Snape's face.

They sat there like that for a long moment, then Bill slapped his behind with the flat of his hand. "Lift up with your knees." Snape obeyed and was instantly speared as Bill pulled him down again. Over and over they repeated the motion, until there was no space between the ups and downs, and Snape had to bite his lip to keep from crying out as he felt himself repeatedly spiked from beneath, powerless to control the depth of penetration. Bill was pushing up violently with his hips, then pulling down on Snape's with each stroke.

Snape threw his head back, bending his elbows forward so they almost touched his ears, allowing himself to be ridden, yearning with the desire to drop his aching arms. When Bill finally came, he fixed Snape's hips snug to his own and thrust over and over, sending a streak of warmth and exquisite pain deep inside of Snape, who fought to stay upright against the rolling motion.

Sweat-soaked, Bill reached up and dragged him down, and they lay together, Bill still deep inside him, as they recovered their breath. When they were finally quiet, Bill gently pushed him to the side, muttered a cleansing spell, then pulled Snape into his arms.

Smoothing his hair, Bill asked him, "Did you like that?"

Blowing out a breath, Snape answered, "It was perfectly fine."

Bill pinched his arm. "What was wrong with it?"

Snape shrugged. "Nothing wrong with it. Just not my first choice of position."

"I'd've thought you'd like the helplessness of it."

Shaking his head, Snape said, "That much is true, but it's the sensation of…being flown like a kite, tethered by just…your cock. Not enough control," he finally admitted.

"Well, perhaps we need to work a bit more on trust, then?"

"I don’t think it has anything to do with trust," Snape disagreed. "More a matter of my preference for restraint of some sort, if only your arms."

They were quiet for a while, pressed together as their skin dried under the warmth of the coverlet. Snape wasn't certain if Bill was still awake, so he asked his question softly.

"What is it like, having so many brothers?"

He felt the chuckle at his back. "Listen, you can have Fred and George anytime you want. I'm sure Mum and Dad'll even pay you."

Snape smiled into the dark. "Thank you, I'll pass. No, what I meant was…do you get along? Do you look forward to seeing them on the holidays…or…?"

Bill was stroking the line of Snape's arm, shoulder to wrist, over and over. "Sure I do. I grew up with them. They're my flesh and blood—there's not a thing I wouldn't do for them," he answered.

"Because they're flesh and blood."

"Not just because of that. Because I love them—even the twins. We're family. A close family, and one thing our parents did was love us all the same, and teach us to do the same with each other." He paused. "I've never really thought about it before. Why do you ask?"

Snape was quiet for a moment, then said, "I was thinking—you realize I have no point of reference, being an only child. A family, in a way, is insurance that you'll be remembered."

Bill snorted. "I dunno. Once I slept through dinner and when I came down, no one'd missed me at all, and they'd eaten my lamb chop."

Snape was suddenly filled with a vague longing. "You survived, I see. No, what I was thinking of is how we remember people. You have these pictures of me in your head—snapshots, if you will. From your years at Hogwarts, and now from these times we spend together. But they're, I don't know, only a part of a larger picture of me that you'll never see." He stopped, lost in his thoughts, until Bill prompted him.

"So what's wrong with that? No matter what happens, I'll always have these…snapshots as you called them, to remember you by," Bill countered.

"True, I'm not complaining. It's just…with a family, especially one as large," he almost added 'and happy', but caught himself, "as yours, there's an ongoing moving picture of your life, from the moment you first took a breath, through every single milestone of your life, multiple versions of it in fact. You'll always be remembered as a continuous representation of a life called Bill Weasley, while someone like myself will only be remembered in still shots captured here and there, scattered in the lives of those who never really knew or cared about me. Snapshots that will never be put together to form a larger picture." He knew Bill would protest, so he added quickly, "It's the way life is; I was just thinking of how things balance out. The hardships of a large family are perhaps compensated for by other things that aren't clear to a casual inspection." He sighed and submitted when Bill insistently prodded him to roll over to face him.

"All of that is true," Bill told him. "Just so you know, you're larger than life to me." He kissed Snape thoroughly and sweetly. "What the two of us do…you're the only one I've ever wanted to do this with. I know it helps you, and I can't explain why, but I've always wanted to help you somehow. I want to protect you—isn't that strange? As if I could. As if you need me to. But something—this—makes me believe that we're meant to be together. Who knows what it all means? But that's how it is. So you might not have a family to remember you, but I'm telling you—you're the most memorable person of my life, and I doubt anyone will ever take that spot from you."

Bill was soon asleep, but his words kept Snape from following. He wondered why he felt safe with Bill in a way he'd never felt with David, or Sven or Christian. He supposed it was because although they'd been sexual partners and companions who implicitly trusted and respected one another, they'd never felt they owed each other anything outside of those rooms in Diagon Alley. They'd talked, of course, and tried to help each other, but it wasn't the same as what he had with this man.

The difference was, of course, that he and Bill were not just playing out a scene once a week, immersed in roles that didn't survive beyond these walls; no, they were lovers. And Snape liked the sound of that more than he cared to admit.

***

At the end of August, Bill and Snape spent the weekend together as usual. Another Weasley was about to start at Hogwarts, as well as Lily Potter's son.

"So typical of you to leave me now, when I'll be needing you more than ever," Snape complained.

Bill poked him in the ribs. "Two little first years, Severus. Won't be all that bad. And Percy'll be there to keep them in line—after the twins, how bad could they be? And Potter? He'll probably need taking down a peg or two, your specialty," he teased.

Snape sneered at him. "Most likely just like his father."

"Tsk, tsk, give him the benefit of making his own bad first impression," Bill told him.

"You'll be coming again in a month, then?" Snape asked as he rolled to his side. "Fucking Egypt. Could you have chosen anyplace farther?" he complained.

"Time'll fly; you'll see," Bill said wisely, just before he kissed him. "But you will not pleasure yourself, Severus," he said sternly. "You will wait for me."

Just the thought of it, and the sound of steel in Bill's voice, made Snape hard.

°°°§§§°°°

1991-92

He was very vocal on this notion that time would fly; Bill had to suffer through what Snape had to say on that matter every single time he returned.

Snape found that the weeks in between Bill's visits positively crawled. On the weekends he spent alone, Snape was in a terrible temper; he'd tried in the first month to occupy himself with projects, then in October had fled to the Hog's Head in desperation. But he discovered that he was more miserable on those nights when he went, a solitary drinker who refused any and all offers of companionship.

He'd rented a room in Hogsmeade, as their finances would not often allow them the luxury of an entire weekend in London. It was small and dingy, but also without drafts and entirely private, which was all the two of them needed. On the Fridays when Bill was to come, Snape forewent dinner in the Great Hall, anxious to be there when Bill would arrive. He never knew exactly when this would be, but he didn't want to waste any of the little time they had together.

And the directive to save himself for Bill was one that he strictly followed. He'd no idea if Bill required the same of himself, but as his master, it was perfectly within his right to demand it, given the rules they'd laid down two years ago. Besides, it made that first night together all the more explosive and passionate—truly the best part of Snape's month. Bill had, however, once he'd seen how hard the separation was on Snape, offered to soften his restrictions.

"Do you want to renegotiate this? Perhaps on the weekends when I'm not here, you could go to see your friends in Diagon Alley? Or toss off, say, once on those weekends?" He lifted Snape's chin with his hand and forced him to look at him. "Severus, there's no shame in changing this. I'm worried about you."

Snape, kneeling at his side, naked except for his collar, asked him, "Are you pleased that I'm able to do this?"

Bill didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Then this is the way I'd like to keep it," Snape replied solemnly.

Snape had found, as time passed, that the outer props that they used became fewer and fewer. Bill led him gently, teaching him a discipline that didn't require bindings or whippings or force of any kind. Just a word, just a light slap to his buttock was enough to position him for hours. And Snape felt himself freer than ever, restrained by the voice he trusted, gladly accepting hardship in its more intangible forms of self-denial and obedience, no matter the cost.

It was worth it.

***

"What's the boy like?" Bill asked curiously over the Yule hols, when he and Snape were able to relocate to a set of rented rooms in London.

Snape was peeling an orange with a small sharp knife, producing one long continuous spiral that almost touched the floor. "He's cheeky, not overly bright, so far as I can tell, and he's the spitting image of his father at that age, although he has his mother's eyes." The peel dropped off just as he finished. Picking it up from the floor, he leant over and draped it around Bill's neck, arranging it so it was tied in a loopy bow. "And Albus indulges him far too much."

"How do you indulge a first year?" Bill asked, then allowed Snape to slide a section of orange into his mouth. He made a grand production of making sucking sounds before he chewed and swallowed.

"You're disgusting, you know that?" Snape chided, then added, "He allowed him on the Gryffindor team, although he'd never sat a broom in his life; and just before I left, Albus informed me that he was giving the boy his father's old invisibility cloak. Just the sort of thing a first year should have." He shook his head, then reached over and pushed another piece of orange between Bill's lips.

Bill briefly chewed and swallowed, then caught Snape's hand, and sucked at the juice on his fingers. Snape felt a flip-flop in his groin, then pulled his hand away to break off another piece, trying but failing miserably to look repulsed.

Laughing, Bill lay back on the settee. "I don't understand why this boy gets to you. I've never heard you go on about a student like this, let alone a first year."

"It's complicated," Snape murmured, then looked surprised when Bill caught his wrist.

"So tell me," Bill said.

"Out of bounds, this is," Snape replied, then leant back with a sigh as Bill pulled on his collar, forcing him to lay his head in his lap.

***

The students had just left for the year. Snape sat in the headmaster's office, listening soberly to what Dumbledore was telling him about Quirrell.

"I don't understand," he said dumbly. "Why would the boy say it was Voldemort?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I think it's clear, Severus. And these are suspicions I've always harbored, for reasons of my own. Tom Riddle was an extraordinary wizard in many ways, and I wouldn't be surprised if he'd dabbled in immortality. Up until this year, it remained a suspicion, but now we have evidence."

"The boy's word?" Snape asked, incredulous. "A boy who thinks far too much of the past."

The old man stroked his chin. "I don't think so. He knows very little about his parents, you might be surprised to learn. Hagrid told me his relatives allowed him to believe they had been killed in a car crash. No, I'm certain he was telling the truth. And you cannot deny what happened to Quirrell. No, what we must be now, Severus, is vigilant. An ill wind is blowing, I fear. There are things I must see to…"

Snape shuddered.

°°°§§§°°°

1992-1993

Snape would never say he loved the man. He knew he didn't. A small still voice inside him asked, now and again, what do you know of love anyway? It could stare you in the face and you'd be none the wiser. In any case, it wasn't something he worried about. There were times, though, when he almost believed that he did love him. Times when he realized how much he thought of the man, how he anticipated their time together, and what they did when they were. He loved to watch Bill, especially when Bill was engaged in an activity that required him to concentrate and so was unaware that Snape was watching.

Snape was covertly enjoying exactly that on this particular afternoon. He was squatting at one end of the sitting room, knees bent and spread wide, hands (mercifully) resting atop his thighs, naked of course, except for his collar and a set of toothed nipple clamps, which were attached by a taut, lightweight Y-chain to a ring fastened snugly around his balls and cock.

The sun was streaming in through the window, making a fiery halo around the head bent over the book. Bill was reading and taking notes on a parchment set to the side, his eyes squinting as he thought, tapping the end of his quill distractedly on the tabletop. From time to time, he looked up at Snape, and would smile, obviously pleased that Snape was holding his position so well, without restlessness or complaint.

The mere sight of the approval and pleasure in those eyes was enough to make Snape's cock bob in anticipation, and just this slight shifting of the chain would send a frisson of pain straight to his nipples. This, of course, made Bill laugh out loud, so Snape flushed in humiliation and arousal.

Time lost all meaning in scenes like this, when muscles began to quiver and sweat dripped from his forehead. He controlled himself by taking deep, measured breaths, and focusing on Bill's silhouette in the fading afternoon light. The position became an agony to be endured, a task that he'd been set by a devoted master, and Snape was determined not to fail. His mind wandered as he sought to occupy it with anything other than the ache and strain in his legs and back, the dull throbbing in his groin that spread up, sheet-like, to engulf the two points of pain on his chest.

"Hey," he heard from close by, so that his eyes snapped open. Bill was no longer at the table; he'd moved to stand behind him. Snape wondered that he hadn't heard him, but he could hear him now, a rustling of clothing being removed, then the creak of the floorboards as Bill knelt, circling his arms around Snape's waist from behind. Snape had to resist the urge to lean back, and was glad that he did when Bill spoke.

"Stay still, just a bit longer," he murmured at Snape's ear, his hands sliding up to playfully tug on the chains, making Snape bite back a groan, and a new sheen of sweat break out on his forehead. After a moment of fiddling with the play in the chains and the one leading to his cock, Bill removed the clamps, one after the other. Once again, Snape had to stifle a cry as the blood rushed back into his nipples. Bill took his time to massage them between his thumbs and fingers, and Snape almost sobbed at the sensation, so tender and sore they'd become over the past several days.

"Shhh, almost there," Bill soothed him, lowering his arms, so that one circled Snape's waist, supporting him, as the other drifted further down and back, grazing his hip with a fingernail as he went. Snape could hear Bill's lips as he made no secret of the fact that he was licking his fingers, and just as Snape realized what was about to happen, Bill reached beneath him, slid the fingers to locate, then used them to penetrate him in a single, swift push.

Snape reflexively arched his bottom upward, but Bill's hand at his waist held him in place, as Snape softly swore aloud, gritting his teeth as he felt the pressure of another finger.

A hot breath puffed at his ear, "Is that good?"

Barely managing the breath to answer, Snape grunted an incoherent affirmative, then began to pant in earnest when the hand at his waist dropped and grabbed hold of his cock, and after a moment of fumbling, sprang it loose from its confining ring.

His body was a blur of sensation, as he teetered on the balls of his feet, trying to push on and off the fingers and keep his balance, the long muscles in his thighs screaming for relief, as Bill expertly pumped his cock with rough, steady strokes. Snape was torn between the violent urge to push down on the hand beneath him and up into the one in front. It took almost a superhuman effort to stay upright and keep his hands on his thighs, as he trembled with exertion from his hours of no movement at all, to this torture of sensual rhythm.

Suddenly, Bill anchored his face into the crook of Snape's neck, then slid back to bite him none too gently on the cusp of his shoulder, while his hands continued to poke and pump, until Snape was undone: with a strangled cry, he erupted, shooting jism up high enough for him to see it. He threw his head back abruptly, an unfortunate move that had it connecting with what felt like Bill's chin. Snape heard him yelp, but he was beyond caring, as he finally listed to the side, and took them both crashing to the floor, with Snape still in the throes of his climax. He felt the fingers leave his hole as he curled up on his side, gasping for air, ignoring for now what was sure to be a painful reawakening of abused nerves and muscles.

Bill was at his side, kneeling, smoothing away the hair plastered to Snape's face. "Well, I think you gave me a black eye."

Snape smiled wanly. "Glad it was good for you too."

***

There was a comfort in tedium, Snape supposed. Here he was in his eleventh year of teaching, and he no longer had to plan lessons, nor pull his hair out over unruly or disrespectful students. There was a rhythm to his life now, one where there were very few waves; there was the occasional student who on a rare day made him feel like he was doing some good, and the pleasure of a fine whiskey and a good book in front of the fire. Snape decided that he liked the predictable, and the ordering of his life by the weekends marked in red on his calendar was the very best thing of all.

There were times, though, in the dead of night when Snape would awaken and realize that once again he'd dreamed of running in the rain, but he no longer saw his savior. Just until he fell asleep, he'd be filled with uneasiness—life was certainly good, but only the foolish would expect it to remain that way. And when it all went to pieces, what would he do then, without the savior in his dreams to come to his rescue?

***

Snape looked at Bill uncertainly. "We've never done this."

"I'd like to try," Bill said with a shrug. "You've done it before, I thought you said…"

"Of course, I have." He rubbed a collarbone distractedly, then got up and followed Bill into the bedchamber, not understanding what lay behind his reluctance.

But not too long after, when they were naked in the bed, after a goodly amount of foreplay, Snape felt a flash of panic that was there for a moment and gone just as quickly.

"What?" Bill asked him, flat on his back, looking up at Snape.

Moving in as he lifted Bill's legs, Snape shook his head. "Nothing."

Pulling back just a bit as he squirted a dollop of lube onto his hand, Snape made a loose fist, and pumped the jelly over his cock. As he moved forward, his cock in his hands, Bill grabbed the back of his thighs and pulled.

"Certain you're ready?" Snape asked again, pushing the head of his cock against Bill's arsehole.

"Severus, I'm ready. Believe me, I wouldn't let you near me if I weren't. Can we stop talking now?" Bill asked exasperatedly.

Now that his cock was engaged, Snape let go and leant forward, latching onto Bill's shoulders with his hands. The two of them moved at the very same time, the net effect being Snape buried in his lover in a single thrust. He stopped, his head down, as Bill let out a moan, half-pleasure, half-complaint.

"God, I forgot what it feels like, but mmmm," Bill finished as he pushed with his hips. "C'mon, do it again."

Snape slowly looked up, and shook his head.

Bill looked puzzled and stopped moving. "What's wrong?"

Looking miserable, Snape muttered, "Ellerby."

Not seeming to understand, Bill tilted his head to the side, then his eyes widened as he pulled himself back in the bed, repeating the word, "Ellerby?"

"Yes, Ellerby," Snape ground out, looking with dismay at his cock dangling between his legs, already flaccid. "You got it the first time."

Scrambling to him on the bed, Bill put his arms around him. "I'm sorry I was so dense, but you've never used it before. Did I hurt you?"

Snape shot him a baleful look. "I was about to fuck you. How could you've hurt me?" he asked gruffly, shaking Bill's hand from his arm. "I just…I've never done this…"

"But you said you had," Bill said, his mouth dropping open.

After a heavy sigh, Snape admitted, "I actually have. But not…." He blew out a breath. "Every time I topped it was with someone I barely knew, mostly blokes I just met for a one-off."

Something very much like relief flooded through Bill's eyes. "Ah. I see. So this is different because you know me?"

"No, not exactly, it's because I've never in my life fucked someone I care about. And for some reason…it's paralyzing. Just the prospect of it."

Bill seemed as if he were trying to understand. "You wouldn't hurt me, I'm sure of it, and it's something I'd really like to do every once in a while." When he saw the expression on Snape's face, he amended what he'd just said. "Listen, it's such a small thing, really. If you'd rather not, then that's fine with me. I knew it wasn't your preference, but now I know it's something else. Let's just forget it, all right?" He ducked his head to meet Snape's eyes.

"Thank you," Snape simply said.

Bill waved a hand. "You're not getting off that easily. Let's see, how about a bath first, and then a back massage, then you suck me off before I do what I have in mind.

"Which is?" Snape asked wryly.

"I'm in the mood for dessert tonight…you have the sweetest arse, Severus."

Which produced the usual instantaneous embarrassment and arousal.

PART FOUR