InsaneJournal

“You were not at breakfast.” His face became lined with concern, “Are you alright? You do not look well.” It was true, the potion master was clenching fists on either side of his body.

“I...,” there was a swell of something that looked like either nausea or lethargy, “am fine. At least, this is nothing I cannot handle.”

“What is happening?” he reached out a hand to feel the man’s forehead, causing him to gasp.

Closing his eyes, he barked, “Don’t touch me!”

Albus was taken aback, and took his hand back as well. “I am sorry,” he muttered good-naturedly. He still had no idea what was wrong with the man.

“Please leave,” he bit out darkly, obviously battling himself to keep his control. His eyes snapped open and there was fear in them.

“My boy?”

Snape tensed at this not-unusual term of endearment. He closed his eyes and began to shake. “I must ask you to l-leave.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help you . . . .” This prompted a low laugh from the other man. “Well, I will go. But I mean it: just say the word and I will do my best to help out.” He resisted the urge to reach out to him again. “Goodbye, Se—”

“Fuck me!” his licorice-black eyes snapped open.

Albus Dumbledore was stunned into a silence. “You said you want to help,” said the frantic, almost childishly shy voice. “Please,” this word was emphasized so needily that there was but one way to react, if Albus had any heart at all.

He gave a slightly saddened nod and allowed the man to pull him in by the front of his robes in a startlingly quick attack. He could feel some sort of magic radiating from the man, as if he were cursed. Albus Dumbledore would do whatever possible for one of his friends. Especially when he felt as if he had already failed them enough in times past.

“I don’t . . . don’t think I can make it if I don’t get something inside of my arse. Please.”

There was that begging tone again. It ripped his inhibitions at the seams, Dumbledore. He grabbed at the younger man, who was in his nightshirt.

“I’m . . . I’m not allowed to orgasm touching myself . . . the damn spell. Oh God,” he lifted up his shirt, pulling it up and over his head as quickly as he could. “Knew I should have gone home for the holidays . . . .”

It was Dumbledore’s turn to gasp. It had been so long since he had seen another man’s naked cock, much less one so . . . beautiful. Was there another word for it, really? He certainly thought not. “I enjoy having you here, though,” he found himself saying as he let his eyes meet Snape’s.

The boy blushed a bit with a small nod, and then made his way to his own bed a bit awkwardly. His purpling arousal looked positively painful. Albus vowed to remedy that.

“I’m,” the boy flushed brighter, “not entirely sure the spell allows any actual touch to my penis to bring release.”

“Well, we will just have to try, then, won’t we?” The old man sat on the bed next to him and reached for the erection, which was a bit larger than average. He wrapped the other arm around the man’s shoulder and pulled him up against the front of his robes. Stroking at a hard dick was managing to make Dumbledore’s own twitch to life. The hand sped, the boy moaning and positively writhing in his arms, but right when he reached the brink of orgasm, the situation became, pardon the pun, disappointingly anti-climatic. A sob escaped the man’s throat.

“Shhh,” the headmaster said, laying Severus down on the bed. He stood and quickly shed his robes, returning to the mattress in all his naked glory. “Hands and knees, my dear,” he said with a benign smile.

Snape did tense slightly. This was the part he was used to, the fucking. He knew Dumbledore would at least make sure he was hitting his prostate, though. That was a definite plus, there wasn’t any doubting that. But to his immense surprise, he found himself crying out at the feel of a tongue tracing the circumference of his arse hole. “Headmaster!” he exclaimed breathlessly. “Merlin’s whore, that’s delicious!” He pressed back

“So are you,” he replied a bit smugly, nuzzling the part of his arse cheeks.

God, that was the cheesiest, most disgusting thing he’d ever heard. Ever. “I . . . get in me, please!”

He would have rather had the boy on top of him as he laid down, but this would be much easier on the poor, currently trembling form. “So you feel prepared?” he got up from his position.

“I don’t care!” the younger man wailed, and after a moment said that yes, he did feel prepared enough.

Dumbledore’s cock slid home and he felt the boy beneath him let out a large moan, sucking in air with an inward hiss on his next inhale before letting it out in a sigh. “Oh, Albus, it’s been too long . . . .”

“Shhh,” he massaged soft circles into Severus’s shoulder. “Family member at Christmastime?”

“Yes,” said the moaning man, pressing back on the cock inside of him. “Uncle!” For a moment, Dumbledore almost thought he was begging for mercy, but he realized the boy was simply answering his question, voice filled to the brim with lust.

Albus nodded thoughtfully and then began to pick up the pace a little bit, making sure to stroke deeply each time.

“Can feel you in my . . . everywhere.” He was babbling, he knew, and couldn’t help it.

“I’m not as big as you are, though. Beautiful piece you’ve got there,” he said quietly, rocking into his body. He felt like he was about to come, but knew he had to hold on for Snape’s sake, reaching down to pinch a nipple and then rub at it, which had the boy arching into the touch.

“Oh please, please come,” he heard the boy chant after a moment. He realized with a start that this was not an invitation to himself, but one Severus was giving to his own erection, willing it to allow him some release from the torment.

With slower thrusts so he could concentrate, he began magically feeling around within the uncle’s old spell.

“Oh God! Don’t slow down, don’t slow down . . . .”

“Shhh! Let me concentrate,” he said, and soon tried to pull at the core of the spell, entirely pleased when he knew his work was finished, judging from the absolute screech and the spatter of come, not to mention the throbbing contractions around his shaft. Coming with his own whisper of, “Severus!” he ran soothing hands up and down the man’s sides.

Not pulling out, Dumbledore laid down on the bed on his side, pulling Severus with him, spooning. The trembling body settled, and the sobs that had escaped the boy became mere sniffs. “Thank you, Headmaster.”

“No trouble at all,” said the old man with a tired smile. “And I’ll be here for you every Christmas, if you require my service.”

“Even if I require it in between Christmases?”

He paused, taken aback. “Especially then,” he said in reply, feeling himself start to harden up again.

“You really are a lively old bastard, aren’t you?”

“Especially around a stimulating youth such as yourself.” He reached down to assess the situation, finding a half-hard erection there as well, but a hand covered his wrist. “Yes?”

“For now? Just hold me,” said Snape, eyes drooping closed as his voice lowered to an absent sort of whisper. “Just hold me.”

“Until my arms no longer can,” he sincerely declared.

Snape snorted quietly. “Who are you kidding? You’re going to live forever.”

He stroked at the thin, sallow cheek with his free hand. “Only for your sake.”