Ever Fixed Mark



"Fuck you, Severus," Harry cried through clenched teeth, even as his calf muscles strained and his hands pulled at the manacles holding him bent over Severus's desk. He shuddered as long fingers trailed along his spine.

"Manners, Mr. Potter," Severus murmured as he stalked around Harry's naked, bound body once more. He chuckled when Harry tried to lunge for him and take a bite out of his shoulder when he got too close to those snarling, snapping jaws.

"Let me go," Harry growled as he kicked against the legs of the desk and rattled the manacles, further scratching the desk's scarred surface.

Severus stopped and turned. He stared into Harry's eyes. "No."

"Fuck you, you goddamned son of a bitch! Let me go! You don't fucking own me. Not anymore," Harry roared, slamming his body against the desk again in the futile hope of getting at Severus so that he could claw his eyes out, or bite him somewhere painful.

Severus took a step forward. "Oh, but I do. I do own you."

Harry turned away and shook his head. "No," he whimpered.

Severus stepped closer still and leaned forward so that his lips hovered by Harry's ear. He heard the sound of teeth snapping at air. "Such a vicious little beast," he murmured as he trailed three fingers down the side of Harry's face.

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but found the fingers crammed between his lips instead. His eyes fluttered closed and his body undulated of its own volition as he slowly drew the fingers in. Severus knew him too well.

"What, no gnashing teeth?" Severus taunted as he worked his fingers in and out, fascinated by the contented expression on Harry's face. His cock stirred as a tentative tongue gently lapped at his fingers—sucking, exploring, tasting. "So easy to soothe you," he whispered before snatching his fingers from the tangle of Harry's tongue. Harry couldn't stop the mew of disappointment from escaping.

"Tsk, tsk. This isn't all fun and games. You need to be reminded and punished for your dalliance."

Harry's anger returned full force as his hands curled in anger. "You threw me out, you bastard! You got rid of me."

"I've changed my mind."

"Well, I haven't. I don't want you, you miserable sod."

Severus stepped behind Harry and molded himself to him, smirking at Harry's poorly concealed gasp when he felt how hard Severus's cock was. He reached around and grabbed Harry's erection, giving it a firm, painful squeeze. "Your words lie," he hissed in Harry's ear, enjoying the swallowed moans he wrung from him.

"I don't… I don't… I don't want you," Harry panted, but already his body was beginning to submit. The familiar flare of lust, the hands of a man who knew his body too well—these things could not be ignored.

"Again you lie. Just like you did tonight when I caught you with Draco Malfoy. Rubbing your body against his, letting him touch you and kiss you like some low-class whore."

Harry's eyes fluttered shut as a gasp escaped.

"Oh yes, I'd nearly forgotten what a debauched little whore you could be," Severus whispered as he ground himself into Harry's bare arse. "You like being called a whore, don't you? Don't you?" Severus said with a firm smack.

"Oh fuck," Harry cried, as his head dropped to the desk. "Please," he rasped. "Please let me go."

"Not on your life. Not until you fly apart into a million pieces and you beg me to put you back together again." Severus stepped back and massaged Harry's arse, pinking it with his calloused hands. His fingers dug into Harry's hips as his thumbs hooked alongside Harry's cleft and spread him wide. He chuckled as Harry moaned low in his throat and pushed back against his fingers. "Not yet. No reward before your punishment."

"I've—I've done nothing wrong."

Severus admired Harry's strain and effort as he tried not to rock his hips, tried not to give into the sensation of Severus's nimble fingers slipping along the sides of cleft. But Severus had him at a disadvantage. "Nothing? You've done nothing wrong?" he asked as he stilled his ministrations.

"No, goddamn you!" Harry screamed in frustration as he pushed and pulled against his bonds.

The fingers disappeared, along with the warmth, the weight, of Severus's hands. Long moments passed. Silence. Before Harry could voice his confusion, he heard it singing through the air, a high-pitched warble heralding an explosion of pain. He braced himself.

*Thwack!*

"Fuck!" Harry screamed as the cane caught him across his arse, burning his flesh with its caustic sting.

"Apologize!" Severus barked.

"Fuck you, Severus."

*Thwack!* The cane fell again. Harry screamed as the agony twisted in his gut and flames licked across his arse.

"Apologize!" Severus barked again, as the cane fell twice more in rapid succession. *Thwack!* *Thwack!*

Harry jerked and pulled and tried desperately to get away. "I was only dancing," he blurted in defense. He heard the cane sing again. "No, no, no, NO!" he begged, but it was too late. The cane fell heavily, making Harry's back bow and nearly snap in half before his body fell forward from the unrelenting pain that stole his breath and his resolve in equal measure. "Please, please, please," he begged, his forehead resting against the cool, unforgiving wood.

The cane clattered to the floor. Cold hands massaged Harry's arse, making him hiss and writhe. His face burned with shame as he realized how aroused he'd become. He shuddered when Severus's tongue traced the shell of his ear and he whispered, "I know you too well, my little whore. I know what you need, what you want, what you crave. Admit what you are and apologize and the punishment ends. Then we can have fun. Then I can fuck you and fuck you and fuck you until you finally remember who you belong to." His wooly robes rubbed against Harry's abraded skin, causing Harry cry out, but the heaviness of Severus's cock was too hard to ignore. Harry pushed back with broken sobs.

"That's right. Such a good little whore," Severus whispered in Harry's ear as he rubbed harder and harder, his hands digging into Harry's flesh, his tongue stabbing at his ear, his teeth biting and marking tender flesh. He was losing control. "Do you know what you do to me? Do you? Seeing you in that club tonight, dressed in those clothes, rubbing yourself against Malfoy, all the while staring at me with those half-lidded eyes and that smirk." Severus bit hard into Harry's shoulder, delighting in the way it made him keen and scrabble across the desk. "You did it on purpose. You wanted to make me jealous. Didn't you? Didn't you?" he demanded.

"Yes," Harry hissed, finally giving in. "Yes. Wanted … wanted you to see what you gave up. Sorry. So sorry."

"But now I have you again, don't I? You. Are. Mine."

"Please," Harry begged, afraid to acknowledge what he begged for, what he longed for.

"And now the reward. Now I make your body sing," Severus said as he reached over to a small pot and coated his fingers in sweet-smelling unguent and pushed two fingers in.

"Fuck," Harry cried as Severus's long fingers curled and stabbed inside of him.

"Soon, my love, soon," Severus rasped—forgetting himself for a moment as he hastened his preparation.

But Harry couldn't wait. He'd been waiting for too long. "Now, Severus. Fuck me like you always say you will. No control, no finesse, just fuck me," Harry cried as he pushed hard against the fingers. "Fuck your whore," Harry panted, not believing he'd uttered such profane words.

Severus couldn't hold back any longer. With a bit of wandless magic, he Vanished the bonds holding Harry captive and gathered him in his arms, dragging him to the far wall. He pushed Harry against it, and, without warning, pushed in and seated himself.

"Fuck," Harry cried as his fingers clawed at stone and his head fell back against Severus's shoulder. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted as Severus began slamming into him over and over and over, knocking him into the wall with each thrust.

Severus bit Harry's shoulder as he curled his arms around Harry's chest and waist. "Never letting you go. Never fucking letting you go," he gasped as his hips snapped back and forth.

Before long, heat curled at the bottom of his stomach, spreading outward in a dull ache, desperate for satisfaction. He dropped one of his hands and curled it around Harry's length, pumping it with the same wild energy guiding his cock.

"I'm—I'm—I'm," Harry stammered, unable to get the words out, but Severus understood. He squeezed harder and brushed his thumb across Harry's slit—just the way he liked it—and roared as Harry screamed and spurted and sagged against him. Two, three, four thrusts later and Severus joined him, his orgasm ripping through him, pummeling him, and sending them both crashing to the floor.



"You all right, old man?" Harry croaked sometime later, unaware of how long they'd lay sprawled on the cold floor.

"Watch it, brat," Severus growled as he tried to wrest his arm from beneath Harry's back.

Harry rolled over and grasped Severus's face in his hands and kissed him until both of them were breathless. After a few moments, he rolled over and staggered to his feet, casting about for his clothing.

"You could stay," Severus said, wincing at the thick, red marks marring Harry's bottom, and his slow, ginger steps.

Harry waved him off. "Early morning," he said as he transfigured his dragonhide trousers into soft, loose fleece.

Severus watched him dress, not moving from the floor or offering his hospitality again.

Harry hissed as he bent over to retrieve his shoes. "Jesus, Severus, no more caning, all right? Have you got anything? My potion supply is rather limited."

"Of course," Severus said as he rose in a graceful arc and went to his potions store. When he returned, Harry was dressed and standing near a small side table, staring at a picture of the two of them from before—from when they had been together. Severus's throat closed as Harry's fingers reached out and ghosted across the photograph.

"Why do you keep doing this?" Harry asked.

Severus stood silent, assuming that Harry was talking to himself or, perhaps, to the photograph. But Harry turned and faced him, his face open and inquiring. "Why?" he asked again.

A million thoughts flew through Severus's head, but the words would not come. They all sounded needy and shameless and broken. He couldn't say that he did it because he couldn't stand the thought of Harry with anyone else. He refused to admit that he would fly into a million pieces—never to put back to rights, no matter how he begged—should Harry fall in love with someone else. He would not acknowledge that watching Harry whore himself to those silly, silly boys aroused him beyond measure. Instead, he replied, "Because."

Harry snorted. "Of course," he whispered. "We can't do this forever, you know."

"I know."

"It's sick and twisted and … and … that's not how I want you."

"I know."

"I mean, maybe, one day, we can try again. But…."

"I know."

Harry nodded. "Well, see you, then."

Severus inclined his head and watched Harry leave. As the door closed, he allowed himself a moment of despair before pulling himself together again. He could control this, he told himself. He would stop seeking Harry out. He would stop this madness. He walked to the photograph and let his fingers trail down Harry's smiling face. It was one of the only times he'd made Harry happy. He'd hoped—fuckingmotherofMerlin—he'd hoped that, eventually, they'd find each other again, that he could make Harry smile like that again. That time seemed past, though. Their encounters had been reduced to jealous rages and angry, violent sex. He slammed the photograph down, ready to close that chapter of his life.

A piece of neon-green parchment caught his eye. The color pulsed and swirled obscenely. It was a flyer for a new club opening in Diagon Alley in two weeks time—the kind of club where Severus always found Harry. Its lurid swirling was like a homing beacon, a signal that Harry wanted to be found, wanted Severus to find him. Once more. Severus smirked. He pocketed the flyer and his cock stirred at the thought of catching Harry in sweaty embrace with some no-name pretty boy. He sighed with delight at the vision of come-hither eyes sparkling at him, taunting him, begging him to remind him, once again, to whom he belonged.

Fin.



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