Work Text:
First Kiss
by Leianora
Harry remembered the first kiss he'd shared with Severus Snape. It hadn't been at all what he'd been expecting, but nothing was "normal" for him, so he didn't allow himself to be disappointed; especially when he reminded himself that such bliss had been the result. If he hadn't taken that rash first step,
Severus and he wouldn't have gotten together at all, and that really wasn't something he wanted to think about.
He'd tried kissing girls, and every time he'd done it, it'd been an utter disaster. Cho Chang had cried and her kiss had been wet and gross. He'd been too nervous and confused to really appreciate anything about it, but even after it was over, it'd seemed all wrong, so he'd determined to try it with other people, to see if he was the cause of all the trouble. Thus far, he hadn't been disabused of the notion, and that was what had been driving him insane for the better part of his final term at Hogwarts.
He'd tried with Ginny, but he'd come away from the experience feeling absolutely nothing. He later told himself that it was because he'd tried something too intimate too soon after Sirius's death, and he was too emotionally exhausted to appreciate it. So, he'd tried to get her to do it again later, but she'd refused.
He'd tried Lavender Brown next, and had suffered utter humiliation as a result. Lavender had told Parvati that Harry was an absolutely horrible kisser, and they had then proceeded to tell everyone they could find. Harry' had to endure several Slytherins making kissy faces and noises at him for the better part of two weeks. He'd wandered around in a shocked stupor for days afterwards, convincing himself that if he could just find a crack in the floor big enough, he could disappear forever and not have to worry about being humiliated ever again. It was on that fateful night that everything changed for Harry.
He was mournfully wandering the halls at two in the morning, muttering to himself over and over again, "I'm a seventeen-year-old virgin," when Professor Snape had caught him.
"Potter, what are you doing out of bed? Surely you don't consider yourself above the rules. If you do, I'd like to remind you that while you were the one to throw the spell that defeated the Dark Lord, you were not alone in the fight, so your celebrity hardly makes you more special than any of the rest of us."
It was then that Harry had the idea. He stared long and hard at his professor. Over the last year and a half, he and Snape had been forced to work together. They had had several intense shouting matches, and Harry had come away from their cessions feeling more emotional and alive than he had during any other time of the day. He'd even cried once in Snape's presence. True, the man hadn't been exactly sympathetic, but he had given Harry a handkerchief to wipe his eyes and had then continued their offensive magic lesson as if nothing had happened.
Harry blinked when he realized that he was being stared at by the man he'd grown to respect, and eventually to trust. He leaned forward, and the distance that had been between them only moments before was closed.
He pressed his lips against Snape's, not caring about anything but what he was feeling. Snape's lips were firm, thin, hard, just as Harry'd imagined they'd be. He froze, shocked by Harry's utter audacity. After a few seconds, he'd pulled away, and then glared at his recalcitrant student.
"Mr. Potter," he murmured softly. "If you're going to go through life doing things by half measures, I can assure you, your existence will not be very fulfilling."
Before Harry could puzzle out what he meant by that, Snape had pinned Harry against the wall, and was brutally kissing him. Harry nearly fell to the ground.
He would have, had Snape not been holding his upper arms in a tight grip that would leave bruises in the morning. As it was, he had no control over this kiss, over the situation, or his body's reactions. Snape had, of course, felt Harry's erection pressing insistently against his leg. He'd chuckled darkly, his voice making Harry's cock grow even harder. He'd leaned in again, and Harry concentrated on what he was feeling, as Snape proceeded to kiss him a third time. Snape's lips were firm, as before, but they'd opened, and his teeth were softly nibbling at Harry's lips. His tongue was demanding entrance into Harry's mouth. Unable to stop what was happening, and not entirely sure he wanted to; Harry parted his lips and allowed himself to be thoroughly kissed as he had never been before.
"I hope you've enjoyed your little prank, Mr. Potter," Severus said.
Harry's eyes had widened, and he'd nearly struck the man, so furious had he become. When he spoke, he was careful to keep his own voice as soft as Snape's.
He'd show the bastard that he'd learned how to control himself and his emotions.
"It's not a prank, Professor. I only wanted to see if I was doing this right."
He hadn't meant to say that. The moment the words were out of his mouth, he'd blushed and stared at the ground. Snape, however, had chuckled again.
"Mr. Potter, as with anything else one learns, this sort of thing requires practice. Study, finish your term here, and then come back to me, if you're still of a mind. We'll continue our lessons then."
Without another word, he'd left, not even bothering to look back to see Harry's reaction. Harry was very glad of that, because the moment the man had left, he'd fallen to the floor, too shaken to move for several minutes
Once he'd moved, however, he'd returned to Gryffindor tower to take care of his problem, and renewed his determination to return to the school once his days as a student were finished.
end