Dilemma

Pent up emotions and spur of the moment decisions can only cause one thing: mistakes—and these mistakes may cause…what? Snarry OotP-verse

Chapter 1

I realized and accepted I preferred men in my third year.

The way I felt about Cho was entirely different from how I felt about Professor Lupin. I don't know if I liked him because of his maturity or his sense of humor or his kindness and understanding.

But I was undeniably attracted to him by the time December rolled around. It was painful, being so close to him and unable to tell him how I felt.

I was afraid he'd reject me if I told him, or if he didn't that he'd leave the school.

He left anyway at the end of the year after exams.

I despised Snape for that. I pined for Professor Lupin even after he left through my fourth year and halfway through fifth.

Professor Snape pulled out. I stumble into the desk behind me, steadying myself against it.

"Yet again, Potter, you have proven you are completely incapable of listening to directions. I told you, time and time again to practice!"

I refuse to look up at him. I wish he'd just shut up.

"With as much effort you put into your other classes, I'd think a simple assignment like clearing your bloody mind would be an easy task. You amaze me by your lack of enthusiasm."

Who'd be enthusiastic having to spend extra time with this git?

"I'm not surprised, however," he drawls.

Oh, Merlin. Just shut up!

"With your skills, it's amazing you're good at anything. There aren't many who are so inept!"

I want him to shut up. Only to shut up. I've taken enough of his abuse and I'm tired of it. So I tackle him, slamming my mouth against his before seizing my bag and heading to the door in a huff.

I did not expect, not once, Snape to seize my arm and pull me back to him. Nor did I expect for him to pin me against the wall. Or for him to return my spiteful kiss.

But it happened anyway.

Not much scares me. I'm almost stupidly brave. I know that I'm stupidly brave. Hermione and Ron have told me that enough times. However, I'm scared right now. So scared I can't think or move.

Fear, it seems, can be fleeting because it seems years of frustration and anger melt away. I hadn't thought much about Snape. I never liked him. He was quite vocal about hating me, always comparing me to my dad.

I'm tired of all my pent up desires which Lupin won't return, regardless whether I tell him or not. It was hard not to notice how he acted around Tonks and vice versa over the summer.

Snape's hands rest on my hips, pulling me closer to him. I grind against him, begging for more than violent kisses. I want to feel his skin against my hands, against my body…I want his lips on my jaw, my throat, everywhere. I want to be connected in body and soul.

His nails dig into my hips and I feel how rigid he is. What is he resisting?

The kiss breaks and he pushes me out the door.

"We're done for today, Potter," he tells me, his breathing is heavy. "Practice like I've told you and we'll convene next week." The door slams in my face before I can say anything.

I walk back to Gryffindor, thinking through what just happened between me and Snape.

Fuck.

#

"Oh, Harry," Hermione mutters, shaking her head in her hands. "What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," I hiss, trying not to yell. Ron is busy playing chess with Ginny. Which is a relief. He'd not understand at all. I don't really understand it.

"Do you think you might have a crush on him?" she asks.

"I don't know, I say. "Maybe, but Hermione, come on! It's Snape. Since when have I ever expressed interest in him? Until recently I only liked Lupin."

"I know," she said, crossing her arms. "While I'm not one to talk about liking teachers, I'm glad you got over him, Harry. It was tearing you apart—especially after he started to date Tonks. But I don't think pining after Professor Snape is any better."

"He kissed me back."

Hermione's mouth opened. "Oh, God, Harry…"

"What?"

"He's a teacher, that's what! Did both of your brains decide to take a vacation?"

"Thank you, Hermione, for having a blunt edged sword for a tongue."

"I'm sorry, Harry, but…I'm just worried about you, that's all."

I nod, "Thanks for that."

"You're very welcome," she said, embracing me. "Tell me if things go. And I'll be there for you tomorrow after Potions."

Crap, I forgot! I really don't want to go to classes tomorrow.

"You think I can get away with a sick day?"

"No, you'll need them for whatever injuries you acquire later in the year," Hermione reminded me. Damn her.

"Fine. I won't skip, but I really don't want to go to school tomorrow."

"I know, I know."

The clock chimed eleven and I stand. "I'm going to bed."

"Goodnight."

"'Night."

I ascend the stairs to the boy's dorm. Slipping into the room, I get ready for bed, my thoughts refusing to think of anything but what had transpired in Snape's classroom.

I kept thinking of things that have been rather helpful turn off's.

I go to bed, not feeling any need to jerk off. But my subconscious had other plans for me.

His nails dig into my hips. Why is he so rigid?

Any resistance he's fighting chips away his resolve. His grasp lessens enough that his nails stop digging into my skin. He finally moves against me. A groan I can't suppress escapes my lips. My hands hold his robes in a death grip.

I'm shoved against the wall and he kisses my neck, nipping sensitive skin and sucking it, leaving mark. A hand slides over my abdomen. It unbuttons my pants and slides inside my boxers. His large, calloused hand against my hot member entices another groan out of me.

I hear a rumbling. He's growling. Snape's hand massages my erection.

"No one," he whispers in my ear, "jumps me, Potter. Is that clear?"

"Yes," I manage.

"Good."

"Let go."

I can feel his smile, the curve of his lips against my jaw. He doesn't let go.

"Let go," I repeat with slightly more force. "Professor, please—"

I bolt upright in bed, breathing heavily.

"Another nightmare, Harry?" Neville asks, coming out of the bathroom, scratching his belly.

I nod my head.

Neville says nothing more, too tired to really care. He goes back to sleep.

My lower body is on fire and I close the blinds. I glare at my erection, enraged that my body would react to Snape—Snape of all people! Of course it's not the first time I've gotten hard over a teacher (as you know, I am still struggling with my crushed feelings for Lupin).

But it's Snape!

I don't want to risk waking my roommates who still sleep soundly. I hope I wasn't moaning. Fuck, that'd be the worst! So should I go take a shower or…

My lips are still tingling from where Snape had touched them.

My hips can still feel his hands pressing against them; his nails digging into them.

I want to feel his hands on me again. I want his lips bruising my skin.

I cast a silencing charm around my bed. Once my wand is on the nightstand beside me again, I discard my pajamas and slide my hand over my groin, enticing shivers to crawl up my spine.

I massage my dick with one hand while the other grasps my balls.

I spread my legs apart, sliding my hand further down until I could feel puckered skin. I tease it, groaning before remembering the lube. I douse my fingers in it and resume my ministrations, sliding my fingers, one at a time, inside my ass.

Breathing shallowly, my imagination running wild…black eyes flash in my mind.

"Severus…" I whisper.

Semen spurts over my stomach and chest. While I clean up, guilt seeps into me.

Why I feel guilt, I don't know.

I've not felt guilty after masturbating before. Does it have anything to do with who the object of my fantasies had been tonight? If so, then ought I have felt this way about Lupin? I never did.

So why would I feel this way about Snape?

I don't don my pj's again, lying under the covers.

I still feel Snape's nails digging into my hips.