Title: Made Clean

Rating: NC-17; NSFW unless you lead a far more interesting life than I do.

Pairing: Severus/Harry

Summary: Harry and Severus bid farewell to the past and embark upon a future together that appears distinctly more enjoyable.

Warnings: Graphically slashy, with details. This is not where dwell the pure at heart. If slash or descriptions of sex offend you, this is not the story for you. Don't let the title fool you, there really isn't anything all that clean going on here.

Author's Notes: All appreciation for reading. Feedback is definitely love!

Rain tapped, urgent droplets against the window. Inside, perched precariously on the dusty sill, a solitary candle flickered, threatening fire to the dingy lace curtains that fluttered carelessly on the draft. Once, years ago, fresh paint had been applied to every inch of the windowsill, but time and neglect had taken its toll. Paint peeled in long strips of yellowed ivory, and delicate cobwebs stretched in the upper corners. The upper pane of glass had a long, jagged cut winding through it, through which a few of the more dedicated raindrops squeezed in, dripping a water stain down the neglected wall and onto the bare, scratched wooden flood.

Severus drew back from the window. There was no view, not on this night. Remus Lupin might give thanks for the new moon, but the absence of light was disconcerting, blanketing the streets in darkness, until Severus felt hard-pressed to remember he was not alone on the world. Stars, which might have leant some beauty to the sky, were obscured behind dense clouds. They perched on slate grey haunches, refusing to part and give way to starlight.

The stairs had sat in disuse for too long, and they creaked in protest, giving away Harry's element of surprise. He ascended them slowly, confused and uncertain as he looked around. In truth, he was surprised to have found the place at all. Severus' directions had been precise, but he had written them from memory, and much had changed in the area since his last visit. Factories had grown, then gone out of business, leaving hulking metal wrecks to hover on the horizon like the rotting skeletons of monsters. Several houses had been torn down, replaced with a neat row of townhouses. Most had been lost due to road expansion, and the various land-markers Severus recalled so vividly were mostly gone, or had been changed, remodelled and given new names. The park was still there though, and once Harry had located it, it had been a simple matter to walk the rest of the way to the house.

At the top of the stairs, Harry paused at the landing, looking back over the railing. Confused, he searched for some sign that would give him a clue as to why Severus had asked him to meet him there. Photographs -- all Muggle, and stationary -- perched in tarnished frames, but were all so caked with dirt that Harry could make out no clear facial features. It did not bother him. He had no urge to see pictures of Tobias and Eileen, whom, he had gathered from the occasional comment, Severus had felt little connection with. Of course, he had already visited their old home, the place at Spinner's End Severus kept, but he could think of no one else whose home Severus would have invited him to.

He could not help but notice that here and there, a clean white patch on a dirty wall marked the place where a picture that had been taken down, but the thought provoked no interest. Overall, the house had an atmosphere similar to 12 Grimmauld Place. It lacked the ostentatious trappings, but carried the same aura of neglect. The air did not feel so suffocating as the House of Black had, however, and although the place seemed sad, it did not frighten him. He almost felt he had seen it before, perhaps in a forgotten dream, or on a day when he had been very young.

"Professor?" Harry greeted, drawing a deep breath and moving down the hall. There were three doors on the upstairs floor. Two were tightly shut, but one, at the very end of the hallway, was open, and a faint light emanated from inside, casting a muted golden patch across the otherwise darkened hall.

"In here," Severus said. He moved to the door, cocking his head slightly. "And don't call me 'Professor'. You know full well I am no longer your teacher, nor are you a student. If you can't cope with using my given name, at least use my surname." He caught himself, and smiled ironically. Despite it, he looked almost sad. "You're late."

Harry nodded, rubbing his hair to shake the raindrops from it. "Yes, I know. I got held up at the Ministry. It's madness there. As if we didn't already have enough to do, we've been assigned to investigate a rumour that someone used the Imperius curse over in Westchester. Not to mention these new regulations the bureaucracy keeps trying to pass -- it's search and seizure rights now, did you know? Supposedly, it's being done for our own safety, but I can bet Umbridge had something to do with it, for entirely selfish reasons. My office was in an uproar, of course. They think they can tell the Aurors how to live their --" He was cut off mid-sentence as Severus reached for him, cradled his cheek for a moment, and then kissed him.

"Sorry I'm late," Harry said breathlessly as they came up for air. He took a deep breath and smiled. "I missed you."

"Imagine," Severus said, with a hint of sarcasm. "Just think what would happen to Ronald Weasley if he heard you say that." Nonetheless, his own smile became a touch more sincere, though he still appeared reserved. "I've...thought of you from time to time, as well."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, every time you terrorize some poor, innocent little first-year Gryffindor, I'll bet."

"Third year," Severus corrected. His black eyes shone. "That's when you became interesting. Until then, it wasn't even enjoyable to bait you. You made it entirely too easy." Sighing gently, he tilted his head, studying the man before him. "Harry," he spoke, putting a great deal of feeling into the way he said the name. Potter was a boy no longer. He stood, at twenty, barely an inch shorter than Severus himself. Quidditch, which he still played quite frequently as a hobby despite having turned down numerous offers from professional teams, had kept him in shape, but he was no longer lanky and skinny, as he had once been. He had filled out, grown up. Lily's gorgeous green eyes stared out of Harry's face, but it was his own experience and personality that added the inquisitive expression to them. He had become, in a manner of speaking, an old soul.

Unable to tear himself away from those eyes, Severus stared into Harry's face. He had always avoided making eye contact with Harry when the young man had been a child. Seeing a trace of Lily in a face that otherwise appeared a clone of James Potter had been a slap in the face, every single time. The boy had been unaware, of course, though Severus had taken out his wrath and vindictive fury upon him anyway, preferring to consider James as Harry's sole progenitor, and cancelling Lily out of the equation altogether. Now, though, the resemblance to James had lessened. Perhaps it was due only to the fact that he had gotten to know the young man, but Severus no longer saw just a new James when he laid eyes upon Harry. The young man had his own expressions, far from the proud, smug image of his father. The difference between the two had become startling, once Severus had made himself conscious of it, and begun paying attention. James had been well-bred, and extremely well cared for. He had wanted for nothing: neither food nor love had ever been withheld from him. Harry, however, knew true suffering. His relatives had taught him the meaning of absence, and mistreated him in a way not even Severus had quite experienced. The neglect his own family had administered was different from the conscientious abuse Harry had undergone. But now, when he looked at the other man, whose unruly hair still stuck up in odd places, Severus saw simply Harry, with the barest hint of Lily shining in those eyes.

Blushing slightly under the older man's intense stare, Harry shifted a little. He glanced over Severus' shoulder, taking in the sights. They were in a medium sized bedroom. Like the rest of the unfamiliar house, it had suffered from neglect, and yet it did not seem quite as abandoned feeling as the rest of the place. Infused with spirit, it felt cosy despite the dust. Pale rose wallpaper adored two walls. It shone slightly, as though it had been painted over with a layer of clear and silver glitter. The other walls were the same forgotten sepia as the windowsill.

"Where are we?" he asked, turning back to Severus. "Are we supposed to be here?"

"I think so," Severus answered seriously. He settled one hand on Harry's shoulder, and started to speak. Then he fell silent. After a moment, he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck. Shaking somewhat, he felt Harry's arms go around him as well, holding him tight. The young man nuzzled against him, the warmth of Harry's skin infusing and disturbing the chill that seemed to cling to Severus' form.

"Why?" Harry asked, not letting go. "Why are we here?"

Severus took hold of one of Harry's hands, and drew back. "Because I made a decision, Potter. All my life -- no, not all, but all of it that matters -- I've been wanting one person, someone I can never have. For a very long time, I wasn't able to accept that I would never get my way. As you know," he added wryly, "It made me bitter. I didn't want anyone else. But now..." He met Harry's gaze. "Now I do." Dead serious, he nodded firmly to underline his conviction. "I want you, Harry, and only you, and so I came here, to say goodbye to the past with you at my side."

Heart fluttering, Harry nodded. His mouth felt dry. When one dealt with Severus Snape, they expected cutting sarcasm, and a conversation that flowed like a duel, with each participant trying to get in a clear shot, lest they be struck down themselves. Severus was not one for tearful true confessions, or romantic sap. To hear him confess love, as best he could manage, was overwhelming and unexpected. Harry certainly had not anticipated it. It was not so much that Severus was unable to offer love; he did not seem able to accept it. At some point in time, he had officially deemed himself unworthy of favour and deep sentiment. The sadness that seemed to shadow Severus had not entirely lifted -- Harry, who had learned a thing or two since Hogwarts did not ever expect it to go away completely -- but it was lessened. He was no longer denying himself.

"I love you too, you know," Harry answered nervously, disguising the meaningfulness of the comment with a shrug and a smile, as was his custom. "But, can I --"

"What?"

Harry took a calming breath. "Over here," he said, his cheeks turning red. Slowly, he led the way over to the bed. Peeling back the comforter, he tossed it aside, smoothing one hand over the sheets. They seemed clean enough, not that he had ever been particular. "Look," he went on, hands reaching for the buttons at Severus' collar and undoing them. "It won't work to go to my place. Ron's got the night off, and he said something about inviting Hermione over. And, well, going to Hogwarts with you, it just wouldn't feel right. We were different people there, not to mention getting in and out of your suite without being found out is practically impossible. There's always the Leaky Cauldron, but --"

"What are you getting at, Potter?" Severus asked with a touch of amusement.

Harry's cheeks flamed darker red. He stared at the sheets, but felt the weight of Severus' gaze burning into the back of his neck. "I want to -- I want us --" he spoke incoherently. "I want to be with you," he managed, finally, and felt mortified. Wretched, he looked at Severus. "You know..."

"Here?" Severus' eyes widened, and he raised his eyebrows.

Shrugging, Harry nodded. "Yeah, unless -- I mean, if you don't want to."

Severus rubbed his mouth as he smiled, shaking his head. "You have no idea how badly I 'want to', you honestly don't. However, I'm not sure this is the correct place for such an, ah, intimate experience. Harry, this house was --"

But Harry had already sat down on the bed, his hands behind him slightly as he leaned back in a rather tempting posture. Kicking off his shoes -- trainers, still, despite being a proper grown-up Auror -- he smiled beguilingly. As Severus stood there, gaping, Harry casually looked out the window as he undid the top few buttons of his own shirt. After a few minutes, the feigned casualness evaporated, and he looked up at Severus impatiently. "Well?"

Control, and restraint, the things that Severus had once lived for, and through, as a Death Eater and double agent spy, dissolved. He watched as Harry, smirking, undid his own belt and then beckoned him forward. More encouragement was not necessary. Severus moved closer, pushing Harry's legs apart and standing between them for a moment, dominating as he looked down at the young man, whose eyes shone with desire.

Harry reached up and caught Severus' hand, pulling him closer to the bed. He guided Severus' hand to the bulge in his trousers, and watched as Severus raised a questioning eyebrow, then smiled. Nodding, Harry slid over. "Sit down, okay?"

"I --" Severus faltered. He licked his bottom lip thoughtfully, debating. Then he did as instructed, settling himself down with supreme grace onto the bed. The mattress still feels familiar, he noted, but what truly surprised him was that the memory flooding him did not sting, the way his recollections always used to. There was a sense of peace with the loss, rather than hot-blooded agony. "All right, Mister Potter," he spoke in his best professor's voice, "whatever shall I do next? I presume you have some sort of plan for how you would like this evening to go?"

"Actually, I thought I'd just see how things went, if that is all right with you," answered Harry, grinning. "You know how rash and impulsive us Gryffindors can be. Still, I do have an idea. I'd like you to be, hmmm," he went on, and pushed Severus backwards, hard. "Flat on your back."

As Severus lay back, Harry rose up on his knees. His hands flew to the clasp that closed Severus' trousers, which he unhooked. Impatient, Harry shoved the trousers down and pulled them off, so that they lay discarded upon the floor and the dust. His fingers went for the buttons of Severus' shirt, but the man shook his head.

"Oh, I don't think so. I refuse to be nude while you are fully dressed, Potter," Severus corrected, though his forceful tone was undercut by his sparkling eyes. "Power dynamics," he went on. "A Slytherin would never allow himself to be the most vulnerable in any situation, not even one that appears as promising as this one." He smiled a bit. "Take them off, Potter."

"If you expect me to call you 'Severus'," Harry said, "then don't call me 'Potter'. I have a given name too, you know." He smiled. "As for the trousers, your wish is my command," he added, undoing his own trousers and tossing them into a wrinkled pile. For good measure, he took off his own shirt as well, and watched as Severus followed suit, a bit slower.

Cocking his head, Severus could not resist studying Harry's body. "If only you had been so obliging as a student, you may have had greater success in your lessons."

With a shrug, Harry rolled over onto his side, looking down at Severus. "I got by all right."

"Indeed," Severus acknowledged. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax. The soft pitter-patter of the rain made a reassuring rhythm, and the sound of Harry's gentle breathing on the bed beside him was comforting. There was not a long time for him to dwell on such mundane thoughts, however. Suddenly, he felt Harry's hand pressing down on his hip. Then the young man shifted, and Severus felt Harry's mouth on him. The heat was so unexpected and blissful that he moaned deeply without even realising it, giving voice to his passion.

Harry smiled to himself as he continued to work Severus' body. He ran his tongue meaningfully up the erect shaft, flicking it against the sensitive tip, and was rewarded by the sound of Severus moaning again. Severus' hands reached for him, stroking his hair, and Harry felt himself nearly purring. He took Severus into his mouth again, moving up and down Severus's erection with his lips, stroking him with his tongue. It was an unexpected surprise that Severus stayed still, allowing Harry to administer pleasure. He had expected the professor to fight him, and take control of the situation, but instead Severus merely moaned, his hands clutching fistfuls of bed-sheet and his hips rising off the bed as he unconsciously arched his back. Panting, Severus surrendered to the pleasure, first whispering, then calling out Harry's name as the blissful sensations flooded through him. For a few moments, the world seemed to withdraw, leaving only himself and Harry and the darkness -- the candle had made good its threat, and toppled off the windowsill after a particularly strong gust of wind had rattled the pane, but good fortune had seen to it that the flame was snuffed out before it hit the carpet. Muscles tensed for the sole aim of increasing his gratification, Severus murmured endearments to Harry that seemed to come directly from his subconscious mind; somehow, they passed the filters that normally restrained him from saying anything suggesting of emotion and connection. "I -- love -- you --" he stammered through quick gasps of breath, and he felt Harry take him in deeper, surrounding his erection in wet heat. The young man clung to him, and Severus squeezed his hand, preparing for the thundering orgasm he was just on the verge of having.

Then Harry pulled back. His mouth was twisted in an infuriating smirk. "No, not yet. You didn't think I'd let you have all the fun tonight, did you? Power distribution, Severus." He almost laughed from the startled expression on the other man's face. "My Gryffindor lot aren't as concerned with vulnerability, but we want our fair share. But don't worry," he added, as Severus regarded him, bleary and thunderstruck. "I know you Slytherins always want to be on top."

With a feral growl, Severus sat up, catching hold of Harry's wrists tightly as he did so. His entire body felt tensed with desire for the young man before him, and yet he still felt relaxed. Pure, he thought, but naturally, dismissed the idea. Life as a Death Eater and spy had sent him reeling so far away from innocence, right and wrong that he no longer felt capable of defining purity from corruption, and yet, that was what he felt. Pure, as though past sins had been washed away with the hot strokes of Harry's tongue, as though the whispered promises -- did I really declare my love out loud? Severus wondered. How embarrassing! -- had made him clean again.

"And a true Gryffindor would never missed the opportunity to grovel on his belly," Severus retorted. There was no malice in his voice, only a touch of amusement. "How fitting." He dragged Harry down, onto the bed, and pinned the young man before he could turn over onto his back. "No," he corrected, as Harry twisted. "You stay put."

Rising, Severus slid his hands down Harry's back, enjoying the way Harry's muscles flexed and tensed under his touch. He leaned against the young man for a moment, pressing his lips to the back of Harry's neck to watch him shiver. Underneath his weight, Harry shook, clenching his jaw to hide the moans that threatened to escape him. He wanted to touch Severus, to turn and kiss him, but even as he started moving, Severus put his own hands over Harry's, prohibiting any further movement.

The spell was easy enough to work even wandless, and so Severus performed the charm mentally, smirking as Harry jolted. Warm oil slid over Harry's buttocks and thighs, slicking his skin completely. "You should appreciate that glimpse of my merciful side, Potter," Severus spoke softly, nudging Harry's thighs apart as he moved in closer. "Though I'm afraid you won't see it for long." He spoke the next spell out loud, for the pleasure of watching Harry jolt with surprise as his hands were suddenly pressed down against the mattress by an invisible force. Pinned to the bed, Harry shivered, though more with delight than fear. "My dark side does tend to get the best of me."

"It's all right," Harry said, struggling against the bonds that held him even though he knew it was futile, and really didn't mind being trapped there. "I've stopped seeing everything in black and white. Even darkness has it's use." He smirked. "Just do it hard, okay?"

After that order, Severus found absolutely no reason to utilize restraint. He had considered going slowly, out of respect to Harry's inexperience. The young man had entertained a few female sweethearts, though no relationships had ever been cemented during his time at Hogwarts; Severus presumed Harry had been with women before, but he knew from an earlier confession that aside from casual experimentation, he would be Harry's first male lover. However, the comment stole his careful control.

"Tell me you want me," he ordered. His erection grew harder, and he breathed in heavily, absorbing the damp air that encircled their naked bodies. His fingers, as he plunged them into Harry, were thickly lubricated, but the sudden pressure made Harry cry out nonetheless. He was tight, as Severus had anticipated, but also a quick learner.

Spreading his legs, Harry begged. "I...I want you."

Severus' eyes were half-lidded with bliss. "Show me," he directed. "Tell me how much." He stroked his fingers in and out of Harry, preparing him, and with his other hand he reached for Harry's erection, stroking him languidly.

Shivering at the friction, thrusting into Severus' hand, Harry gasped. He reddened with humiliation, and his voice was low as he spoke. "P -- please! Severus..." He moaned as the hand stroking his erection tightened around him. Severus was close enough for Harry to feel the man's body heat. His hip bumped against Harry's inner thigh, and Harry gasped, desperate. "I want you," he confessed rapidly. "Please -- I need you. I want you more than anything...please! Severus!"

Exercising restraint over himself was extremely difficult, but Severus was careful not to surrender to his passions too soon. It was better to have his fun first, with Harry writhing and panting desperately at his least touch.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Harry?"

"Yes!" On a heavy gust of breath, Harry answered in the affirmative. At work, within the Ministry, Harry was a leader. The youngest of the Aurors, he was nonetheless one of the most respected members of his office. The maturity he had gained in his experience fighting against Voldemort had come to good use, giving him an advantage over his fellow trainees when he had first entered the program, and securing him the best mentors. He was in control there, in charge and yet now, he was completely at a loss. He shifted and trembled, trying to slide backwards in order to better encourage Severus. Every ounce of self-respect was gone; he would do anything requested of him in order to receive pleasure from the black-haired man who had once been his Potions professor. "Fuck me," he breathed, shaking. "Please, Severus, please -- please fuck me -- please, now --"

His breath was stolen as Severus entered him. The forcefulness of the penetration left Harry gasping, and he heard himself shout Severus' name again, much louder and with a distinctive tone of desperation and desire.

Balancing himself with one hand, Severus kept the other tightly wrapped around Harry's cock, sliding it up and down Harry's erection almost carelessly, in a gesture he was sure would drive his partner wild. True to form, Harry's hips jerked forward, as he tried to thrust himself against Severus' hand. The pain of being taken dissolved considerably as he drove himself down against Severus. Every nerve in his body radiated pleasure, especially as Severus entered deeper into his body. Severus' hot tongue lapped along Harry's neck, and then the man sucked Harry's earlobe, taking advantage of the moment to rearrange his position.

"H -- harder --" Harry gasped.

Withdrawing his hand from Harry's cock, Severus complied. His black eyes glittered mischievously; Harry would have to feel the sensation he had requested. Slamming his hips forward, Severus thrust as deeply into Harry's body as he could. His ears rang with Harry's shouts, but alongside the tearful moans of pain, Severus heard the young man whispering his name, professing adoration. As a reward, Severus took hold of Harry's erection once more, stroking him rapidly.

Groaning deeply, Harry pressed his cock against Severus' palm. His body ached with a delicious soreness, and he stretched his legs a hair's width wider, feeling the blunt force of Severus' hips slamming into him. His buttocks stung and reddened as Severus' body crashed against him, sliding in and out with a rhythm that overpowered any rational thought. Harry could hear himself pleading and murmuring, begging to be claimed, whispering his desire to be thoroughly fucked, occasionally moaning Severus' name, but conscious thought seemed a great distance away. The world had narrowed. His concerns stretched no further than the man thrusting into him and the feel of Severus' hands slip-sliding down his cock, coaxing new cries from him. He bucked, then arced backwards to open himself even further to Severus' erection, but then he slipped over the edge. He came in a hot flood, and heard as though from a great distance Severus' deep, low moans of satisfaction as the other man collapsed on top of him, clutching him hard enough to leave marks.

"Harry," Severus said gently, when he could speak. He shifted slightly, settling himself face down on the sweat-damp sheets beside Harry, near enough that they touched. Shuddering with the pleasure that drifted over him, Severus could feel Harry beside him, his body wracked with spasms as he experienced the aftershocks of orgasm. With one hand, he reached out, smoothing back the hair that had fallen over Harry's eyes, and smiled at the dazed, punch-drunk expression Harry wore.

"Everything okay?" he asked playfully, tracing the line of Harry's jaw with one finger.

Harry nodded, and blinked. "Better than okay," he confirmed, and leaned forward, planting a kiss on Severus' cheek. The gesture, perhaps more intimate than an ordinary kiss because of the endearing quality of it, made them both blush. "I -- wow."

"No regrets?" Severus confirmed.

Shaking his head, Harry grinned back. "None," he said easily, catching hold of Severus' hand. "Severus?" he asked.

The way Harry spoke his name made Severus shiver just a bit, and he looked up at the young man, his black eyes wide. "Yes?" he asked carefully.

"Did you mean what you said -- about loving me?" It was awkward, and Harry cringed, looking away as though distracted, though of course he listened with every pore of his body. "I know it's a silly question. I'm not a kid anymore, I realise things aren't always..." He broke off the sentence, unable to articulate what he wanted to say. There was honesty and innocence in his eyes, those unbreakable qualities Dumbledore had called good and Voldemort had labelled weak. "Just," he went on hesitantly, shrugging. "Did you mean it?"

In answer, Severus squeezed Harry's hand tightly, then raised the hand to his lips, so that he could press a kiss against Harry's palm. He did not close his eyes, though they were half-lidded; he was able to see Harry's shoulders sag with relief even before he spoke. "Yes," he said, his gaze intense. "I meant it."

Relieved, Harry uttered a slight laugh. "Whew," he said, with a smile. "I didn't -- I mean it would have been all right if --" Flustered, he gave up. "I didn't think you'd admit to it, even if you did mean it. You know, the Slytherin power plays." He shrugged. "But I'm glad. I love you too."

Severus nodded gravely. "It's not an easy thing to admit to," he confirmed. Then he propped himself up on one elbow. Through the grimy window in the bedroom, which had once been the exclusive domain of Lily Evans when she had been a young girl, Severus could see the clouds disappearing. They parted, admitting the feeblest of starlight to brighten the stormy night. "It's late," he said, matter of fact. "Later than I anticipated. Did you tell me yesterday that you'd have to work nights at the office this week? Something about the department being in chaos?"

"The Creevy case," Harry agreed with a nod. "It's turned the whole department on its head, because we were supposed to be investigating the recent break-in at the Lestrange vault in Gringott's -- that's three robberies with a week of each other -- and then we found out that Colin had..." He shook his head, refusing to examine the thought. "Yeah," he agreed, meeting Severus' eyes. "There's work I could be doing, but maybe just this once, I could sit it out."

With a soft snort, Severus blinked up at Harry. He smirked. "You're sure? Wouldn't you rather be at the Ministry, touting your immense credentials and trying to drum up a bit more popularity? We all know what a sucker you are for fame," he kidded. Harry stuck out his tongue and Severus laughed. "I'd understand, if you had to go."

"I know you would," said Harry, "but the Ministry can go without me for one night. I'm staying here tonight, with you." He pressed a finger to Severus' lips, silencing him. "No contradictions either. It's my turn to be in control. For once, I'm in charge here."

Raising his eyebrows, Severus turned back over, stretching out onto his stomach. "Then by all means," he said, winking, although his expression stayed focussed. Giving Harry a challenging look, he beckoned the young man forward. "Acquaint me with your dominant side."