A/N: Written for the third wave of the Dawn to Dusk fest (http://www.kardasi.com/HPSS/. Challenge: Write four separate drabbles, stories of exactly one hundred words
each. All drabbles must be interconnected somehow and they must go from G to PG to R to NC17. One of each.
With Kira's kind permission, I have reversed the ratings order of the drabbles. Thanks to Nimori and Maeglin for looking these over for me before posting.
Three months before Potter left Hogwarts, Snape fucked him for the first time.
Potter's body opened reluctantly to accept him and he ravaged it with fierce strokes, one ear cocked for the moment Potter's moans changed timbre from pain to pleasure. But when the change came, it was not in the form of words, but in the barely perceptible relaxation of Potter's muscles, the softening of his handsome face into an expression of almost innocent wonder, and the metamorphosis was unsettling.
By the time Potter arched and came into his own hand, Snape knew everything else had changed, as well.
****
R
The night before Harry left Hogwarts, Severus made love to him one last time.
Their movements were slow and luxurious, punctuated with long anticipatory pauses that left them both breathless. Severus's climax was sharp and bittersweet; when he fell to the bed beside Harry, his bones were melting and his heart ached.
"I'll write you," Harry said.
*Please,* Severus thought.
"Don't," Severus said.
Harry frowned. "Why not?"
*Don't forget me.* "Forget me, Potter. Go live your life. I have nothing more to give you."
"I don't care. I love you."
Severus looked away until Harry gathered his things and left.
***
PG
Six months after Harry left Hogwarts, he found a letter to Severus he had started but never finished. The parchment was smeared and dark with lines crossing out the words he'd wished he could say but didn't dare.
The letter was old now, and it made him smile to read it. Snape had been right; he had nothing to offer that Harry had not found in the beds of any one of his many lovers since then. He'd been foolish to imagine it had been anything more.
He crumpled the letter into a ball and tossed it into the hearth.
***
G
Every morning when the post owls arrived, Severus looked up with a guarded sense of hope. Perhaps today would bring the long expected, long overdue letter. And every morning, the birds swooped low over the staff table, bringing him an avalanche of magazines, howlers and mountains of other unwanted correspondence, but the writing on the envelopes never matched the tiny, neatly looped script he so longed to see.
The mornings piled one upon the next, and the tiny spark of hope he'd nurtured for so long began to die.
One year after Harry left Hogwarts, Severus finally stopped looking up.