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Like A Virgin

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"Is this a joke?" Harry asked, his initial excitement at the sight of the gift, wrapped in metallic green paper with a silver bow, faded to confusion as he peered at the befuddling mix of delicate fabrics, lace, mesh and silk, nestled in the box.

"I recognise that you and I have only recently become well-acquainted, Harry, but I should think by now you know that I'm not the type of man who jokes." Severus punctuated his declaration with a very sober sneer.


Severus pulled his eyes away from the contents of the box to meet Harry's gaze. "When I inquired what you wanted for your birthday, what was your response?" Severus lifted an eyebrow and stared at Harry defensively.


"Surprise me, you said."

Well, yeah, but..." He fished inside the box to pull out a pair of Slytherin green patent leather shoes, with a platform heel and a shiny silver buckle. He gave Severus a look that clearly stated, What the fuck?

"The fancy dress party was not my idea," Severus said tersely.

Harry's eyes widened in horror. "I'm not wearing this to the party!" His finger hooked around a pair of white mesh knickers that had an artful pattern of green lace in a panel over the front. "You can't be serious." If the man wanted him to don the frilly stuff in private, it was weird, but he was up for nearly anything. He was not going out in public in knickers.

"How long have we been doing this?" Severus asked.

Harry frowned. "Doing what?"

Severus held up a finger and waved it between them. "This thing we're doing," he specified.

"Four months," Harry said cautiously. As you well know, he added silently. Four insanely pleasurable months. They had, in fact, been the best four months Harry had spent in his adult life. If not his whole life. But.

Severus nodded as though to award Harry house points. "And roughly one month into this, I recall you and I made a deal."

"A deal?"

Severus gave him a hard look. "You don't remember."

Harry cast his mind back and bit his lip. The dark eyes narrowed as he struggled to work out just what he'd agreed to. The gaze was intense and promised punishment. It was not a look that was conducive to quick thinking. "I-"

"You dragged me to that Ministry event," Severus reminded him.

Harry rolled his eyes. "It was the ten-year memorial, Severus. You couldn't not come," he said, exasperated at the memory of the ordeal of trying to convince one of the guests of honour to make an appearance.

"On the contrary, Harry. I could have quite happily skipped the entire sentiment-ridden, politically motivated affair. But I went. Do you recall why I went?"

I – I talked you into it," Harry said weakly. He could see where this was going and he didn't like it one bit.

"You made me a promise," Severus specified. "Do you recall that promise?"

Oh, he recalled it. Panic began to swell and Harry put on his best negotiating face. He smiled, "But Severus ... I can't possibly go out like this. It's my birthday party," he said in a desperately reasonable tone. "Molly will be there," he pointed out.

By the look on the man's face, Harry thought he might just as easily move mountains.

"Do you recall your promise?" Severus asked stonily.

"I said that if you went, I'd do anything you asked," Harry recalled in a dull tone. "But-"

"And as I recall, you wisely added conditions to that promise," Severus said, a hint of a victorious smile playing at the corners of that grim mouth.

"I wouldn't be used as a guinea pig for your research," Harry sighed. "And I wouldn't disembowel toads or wash cauldrons. But-"

"Quite, which I've never asked you to do." The look on his face told Harry that he wouldn't be quite trusted to do the job properly anyway. "I don't recall that the restrictions extended to clothing."

Harry frowned. "Well, how was I to know you're a pervert?" he snapped.

A feral look took hold of the other man's features. He smiled slowly. "If I recall – and let me assure you that I recall every single second– it was our mutual appreciation for the perverse that brought us together."

Harry had to concede the point. A small shiver of memory raced through, making his nipples go hard and causing other bits to stir as well. "But it's a family party," he pleaded in a small voice.

Severus looked him square in the eyes. "I see. The word of a Gryffindor used to be worth so much more," he said.

Harry's heart sank. "But-"

"If I know George Weasley, you won't be the only one kitted up like a tart," Severus pointed out.

Harry frowned, knowing the man was likely to be spot on. George rarely passed up the opportunity to dress in women's underwear. Harry hadn't ever given it much thought before now. He let out a harsh breath and pouted. "But the colours," he complained.

"White, green and silver. They are perfectly good colours," Severus said, his eyes glittering with amusement. "Green is your best colour."

"Wouldn't black have been more appropriate?" Harry said, staring balefully into the box.

"To celebrate the birth of our Divine Saviour? I should think not," Severus scoffed.

Three hours later, Harry stood in Severus' bedroom before a full-length mirror that hung on the wall. A mirror which reflected the mentality of its owner, judging by the wolf-whistles Harry'd been favoured with over the past ten minutes. His newly epilated legs were clad in white silk, stretching up out of the impossibly high Mary Jane platform shoes. The tops of the stockings were green lace with a silver silk ribbon threaded through. Hairless golden thighs led to a pair of white mesh knickers, which cut across the rounded curve of Harry's arse. Above that, an equally pristine corset, trimmed in green across the top, bound his middle. His flat, pink nipples peered out from over the top of it. The long ends of the silver ribbon that ensured the corset would make breathing a delicate art, tickled the backs of Harry's thighs.

He looked like a Slytherin bride on her wedding night. He imagined the looks on his friends' faces when he walked into the party like this. The piss-taking that would follow him in the years to come. They'd all been suitably incredulous when Harry began this affair, but, as friends do, decided to accept Harry's new lover as a necessary evil. "Whatever makes you happy, mate," Ron had said, with a doubtful look.

This would only serve to confirm their worst fears.

Harry stared despondently at his reflected form. Green was a good colour for him, bringing out his eyes. The white made him look slightly less pale, he supposed. He felt tall, at least. He turned to admire the way the height of the heels lifted his backside nicely. He did have a nice arse. The panel at the front of the knickers, comprising several strips of green lace criss-crossing over his cock, artfully hid the swelling package inside. So long as he kept his thoughts somewhat disciplined, there shouldn't be too many problems.

The door to the bedroom opened and Severus stepped inside, freezing to stare covetously at the man dressed in the gifted clothes. His black eyes grew impossibly dark. "There's something missing," he said in his deepest voice that reverberated through Harry's insides.

Harry turned and Severus walked forward, pulling a small, silver cylinder from the pocket of his black trousers. Harry frowned at the sight of the blood-red lipstick. "I thought you didn't like girls," he pouted.

A wicked glint flashed in the man's eyes as he brought the creamy stick to Harry's extended bottom lip. "I should not have to point out that you, Mister Potter, are not a girl. You are a man in particularly fine lingerie. There is a small difference."

"Oy!" Harry protested, pulling his mouth away from the man's attentions. "Not so small!" he said, grinning.

Severus smirked and began smoothing the paint over Harry's lips carefully. "I stand corrected," he said in a low voice. "There is a huge difference. Positively enormous."

Harry pulled away again to glare. "Now you're just taking the piss," he admonished.

"Turn around," Severus commanded. His voice was barely audible, but demanded instant obedience.

Harry turned to face the mirror, his eyes taking in the unrecognizable man staring back at him.

"There's still something missing," the mirror reflected.

"I quite agree." Severus pulled what looked to be another ribbon – black, this time – from his pocket. He stretched it across Harry's throat. A snake arrange in a figure of eight, swallowing its tail dangled from the choker. Green emerald winked up where the eyes would be. Severus' fingers brushed over the back of his neck as he fastened it.

"Perfect," the mirror complimented.

Severus hummed his accordance.

"You realise we're going to a party of Gryffindors," Harry said irritably. The smile that twisted onto his lover's lips told him that not only was Severus well-aware of that fact, it was the very inspiration behind the costume.

"Oh, dear," Severus said. "Are we?"

For all the feigned innocence, there was nothing innocent about the way he was looking at Harry's reflection. "This is some weird territorial thing, isn't it?" Harry asked breathlessly.

Severus didn't respond. He snaked an arm under Harry's and trailed a long, stained finger along the top of the impeccably white corset, fingernail scraping over the tightening nub of Harry's nipple. Harry was indescribably pleased to realise that with the height of his shoes, he needed only arch his back to discover just how much his lover appreciated the game of dress-up. Harry moaned appreciatively. Severus stroked down the side of the ribbed corset, before laying his hand against Harry's flat belly. His fingers slipped inside the panties. Harry's cock, confined as it had been, took advantage of the small opening to pop out for some air.

Severus gave a sound of appreciation and rolled his hips forward.

"If you start this, we'll never make it to the party," Harry complained half-heartedly. He stuck his hand into the ill-fitting underwear to try and choke off the blood supply to his cock.

"Now that would be a shame," Severus intoned, pulling his hips back in favour of running his fingertips along the hem of the knickers that stretched across Harry's bottom, following it to the bunched fabric that gathered over Harry's opening.

"It's my birthday party," Harry reminded the man. He tried for an impatient tone, but couldn't manage to put a voice to the words.

"I assure you, Harry, there is no one on this earth who will celebrate your existence more ardently than I," Severus promised. He met Harry's eyes in the mirror before sinking out of sight.

Harry let out a pleading, "Severus," but he wouldn't have been able to say what he was pleading for as that large, hooked nose slid into his cleft. A hot, wet tongue prodded at the bunch of fabric between his arse cheeks. Severus' hands urged Harry's legs wider, and then fingers slipped under the hem of the knickers, thumbs prising the cheeks apart.

Harry's palms pressed against the mirror for support. His legs going even wider as that sweet, wicked tongue teased his arse through the flimsy fabric of the pants. His legs felt distinctly unsteady, but the reflection of them stretching out of the shiny green shoes was inexplicably exciting. Harry shouted as the fabric of the pants was wrenched aside, favouring him with the full power of that wet tongue poking into him. All thoughts of his birthday party melted away, along with his wits, into a growing pool of need in his belly.

Severus' palm rubbed over his balls and up the lace panel of the pants, flattening over the shaft and rubbing teasingly. Harry's eyes slipped close as a needy whine sounded in his throat. The head of his cock was strangled by the tight waistband and wept against his belly as Severus tortured his opening with a combination of tongue and thumb, peeking inside and sliding over the pucker, exciting the flesh.

"The very picture of a blushing, virgin bride," the mirror crooned. Harry half-laughed, half-whimpered at the thought of the mirror cheering on its master. It wasn't the first time, though, and Harry had stopped finding it off-putting. It was merely a reflection of its owner.

"Severus withdrew from between his legs and stood behind him, gripping his hips forcefully. "I reckon we'll get him begging like a whore before the end," Severus whispered before sliding his tongue up Harry's neck. The man's teeth met Harry's earlobe.

Harry's eyes were dark and passionate when he opened them to stare at the other man in the mirror. Severus met them with a dark smile. "Oh, how I would have liked to be your first," the man said. "To watch you use that celebrated Gryffindor bravery to battle the pain as you were penetrated." His hands slid into the knickers and pushed them down to stretch across the top of Harry's thighs. Harry's cock bobbed heavily forward, kissing the mirror in front of him.

Harry stretched his neck sideways, desperate to kiss the other man. Severus, teased his mouth with his tongue, but stayed just out of reach. His hands stroked over the heated flesh of Harry's arse, squeezing the orbs and pulling them apart. Severus pressed his clothed hips forward.

"But you gave your flower to an oblivious Muggle, didn't you?" he growled. "A man who had no idea of the value of the gift he received. A man who didn't think to collect every whimper, every gasp, every single, needy moan. An undeserving man, Harry."

Harry whimpered, "Please," he begged. He knew that was what the man was waiting for. He also knew that the man wouldn't be fooled by pre-emptive pleading.

Severus chuckled. Harry heard the sound of a zip and jutted his arse back eagerly. "But I should thank your Muggle. Look at yourself. Look how much you want it. Tell me what you want."

"Cock," Harry breathed, having learnt that any vague response would only prolong the torture.

"Cock," Severus echoed, rewarding Harry by the fleshy feeling of Severus' hard cock, sliding into his crease. Harry could hear the whizzing sound of something being summoned. "You're hungry for it, aren't you? Open your eyes, Harry," he commanded and Harry's eyes snapped open obediently, taking in the flush of his cheeks, the blood red lips, the green eyes glinting with wild desperation.

Harry's eyes shifted to the man behind him. He looked at once predatory and possessive. Harry felt his cheeks prised apart and leant forward to aid in the man's efforts. Instead of the man's cock, Harry felt two slick thumbs slip inside him and pull outward. His eyes went unfocussed. "Severus," he whispered reverently.

"We're going to try and recreate the pain, Harry. I've seen a hint of what you must have looked like when that first, unworthy lover carelessly took what you so recklessly tossed away. I see it when I enter you. The creased brow. The biting of your bottom lip. Only an instant before the inevitable pleasure comes to remind you why you love cock. Say it."

"I love cock," Harry adamantly agreed.

Another summoning charm and Harry saw the blur of the object flying into Severus' hand, but he couldn't identify it until he felt the slick round tip slip easily past the ring of trained muscle. Harry bit his bottom lip in anticipation. His hand closed over his cock and stroked it twice before returning his palm to the mirror.

"You have lipstick on your teeth," the mirror offered helpfully. Harry ran his tongue over them distractedly.

"I think that's enough from you," Severus told the mirror firmly, punctuating his command to the mirror by pressing the plug deep inside Harry, capturing his attention once more. "You're still so tight. I can only imagine how it must have been for him. How squeezing the heat of your arse. How he must have enjoyed it. Had he but known the rare thing he'd just been given, I daresay he'd have savoured it."

The plug stroked him on the inside, but wasn't quite what Harry wanted. It certainly wasn't what he needed and soon the begging was quite sincere. "Now, Severus ... For fuck's sake, please. Fuck me."

"Against a wall, wasn't it? In a club. You were in such a hurry to become a man," Severus teased, not picking up the pace and not giving Harry what he needed. He began to move the plug in circles, stretching him wider, but not enough. As though hearing the thought, Severus pulled the plug back and then returned it, slipping his finger in beside it.

"Oh..." Harry gasped, bringing his hands back to prise his own cheeks apart, leaning his forehead against the mirror for stability. His bollocks hung, rubbing over the panties stretched just under them.

"How beautiful you must have been. And he never even saw you, did he? He didn't even care to watch. Such a waste, Harry. Such a shame."

"Damn it, Severus. Fuck me," Harry ordered.

He could feel something change about the plug inside him, but he couldn't say what. He didn't particularly care because all he really wanted was for the thing to be replaced by the man behind him. "Hands on the wall, Harry. You keep that pretty face up. I want to see you," Severus said and Harry obeyed, bending forward a bit more and blinking back at the man who watched him with a dangerously hungry expression. Harry's teeth were bared in an equally fierce expression. The man smirked at the challenge and suddenly Harry felt what he'd been waiting for. The soft-but-hard head of Severus' cock pressed against his opening.

It took Harry a second to realise that the plug hadn't been removed. "What-" he said, his eyes widening.

Severus waited for the realisation to hit before pressing forward. Harry's mouth stretched open in a wordless protest that shattered into panicked panting. Severus' eyes went unfocussed as his cock was pressed against the hard plastic of the implement inside Harry and squeezed by the protesting ring of muscles.

The pain was intense and bordered the heretofore unknown realm of safe-word pain. Harry's face was taut with exertion as he tried to breathe the sorts of breaths one took to get past that, but as Severus' cock pressed past the ring to fit itself alongside the foreign object, panting was all Harry could manage.

"Perfect," Severus breathed, one hand stroking over the corset, which was doing nothing to help Harry in his attempt at deep calming breaths. "Look how beautiful you are, Harry. The flush in your cheeks, the glow of sweat. The look of sheer determination," Severus continued as he rocked in minute movements.

Harry was going to split at the seams, he knew. It was too much. With every expelled breath, the word "ow" dropped out of his mouth. But when his eyes met with the dark, territorial gaze of his lover, he drew on some last reserve of strength to endure a bit longer. He took another quick gasping breath and frowned, concentrating on his submission.

"Good boy," Severus said and Harry flushed with pleasure at the encouragement. Severus went quiet as he continued to press inside, his cock stretching Harry impossibly wide. His eyes never left Harry's and Harry knew that he was encoding every single wince, every grimace, every sigh and gasp and moan. Suddenly, Harry thought he understood what it was to be truly adored.

Harry surrendered to the pain, eyes slipping shut as he tried to will himself wider without moving an inch. He clung to the wall and concentrated on the slow parting of his insides. Severus' harsh breaths brought him pleasure; his spat curses brought an ecstatic smile to Harry's face. After an eternity, Severus' hips were flush against Harry's arse, his cock buried deep inside, nestled snugly against the plug.

For a long moment, he stood still, stroking Harry through the silk corset, peppering his shoulders with kisses intended to soothe, to reassure. The worst part was over.

There was none of this his first time, but he could hardly blame the bloke involved. Harry was so adamant on getting fucked before he turned twenty-one, that he smiled prettily at an anonymous Muggle, wiggled his arse a bit and then got what he'd been fishing for. There were no fireworks. He hadn't even managed to maintain his erection through the affair, let alone come. But his mission, as it were, had been accomplished. Everything that had come after could only be an improvement.

This pain was more intense than Harry's vague memory of his first time. He opened his eyes to see through a lipstick smear on the obediently silent mirror. He felt like one of those music box ballerina's balanced on her toes with a stick up her arse, spinning and dizzy and beautiful. Severus' eyes met his, his hand slid up Harry's spine, up the back of his head to close around a fistful of hair. "My beautiful little whore," the man said.

Harry gave a wide grin and the man drew back before slamming into place, pressing the implement downward against Harry's prostate causing stars to burst in front of Harry's eyes. Severus wrenched his head backward and up as he began moving now in earnest. Every inward thrust married the pain to pleasure. Everything hurt exquisitely. Severus' hand wrapped around his flagging erection and coaxed it back to life.

Harry mindlessly rocked his hips backward, giving a hiss of pain that became a shout of pleasure as Severus thrust forward again. He could feel Severus against the walls of his arse, moving within the increasingly accommodating space. The implement seemed to be moving independently and Harry lost track of anything except the pleasurepain coursing through him. He became sensation, raw and fierce. Noises he would have never thought possible rocketed out of him, filling the air with a discordant aria of ecstasy.

He stood suspended between the pulling of his cock and the pounding of his arse. It was all he could do to keep his knees from buckling, to keep from toppling over as his body was used and filled again and again. It was too much, and soon the coil tightening in his belly sprung spectacularly. He exploded. His face pressed against the mirror in front of him that was being coated with his seed. Severus' tight groan followed and he slammed his hips home one more time.

Severus' arms curled around him, pulling him in a tight embrace. Both bodies shuddered as the aftershocks broke through them again and again. Severus' lips brushed Harry's jaw. Harry turned his head to favour the man with a grateful kiss, slow and meaningful. "You are exquisite," the man told him and Harry melted at the words.

Severus summoned a cloth before slipping out of Harry's abused hole. Harry winced as the plug, which, he noted, had been transformed into some sort of knobbly shoehorn, was pulled out and then banished. Severus ran a cloth over his backside, leaving Harry to wonder why he didn't just use a cleaning charm, as usual. Harry looked at the mess covering the mirror and the mess reflected back at him. His face was a smear of red lipstick, streaked along his cheek. His hair was even more impossible than normal. The panties, stretched over his thighs were hiked back up into place. Harry pulled his legs together and turned around.

"That was so much better than the first time," he said, reaching down to tuck the other man away into his black trousers.

Severus smirked and waved his wand. Dark robes flew through the air from his armoire. Severus handed them over.

"What is this?" Harry asked.

"Your costume. You couldn't possibly go like that, Harry. It's a family party, after all."


"You're late," Hermione growled as the couple entered the Burrow. She was dressed as a Muggle doctor. "Really, Harry. This party is for you, after all."

Harry tried for a contrite expression, but he found that after the sex that evening, none of his muscles were working properly. "I'm really sorry, Hermione. It was my fault," he lied.

"Harry was having problems with his costume," Severus supplied.

Hermione gave a doubtful look at Harry's costume. Her brow furrowed. "Harry, are you wearing heels?"

"Ah, the naughty nun. A classic," George said, coming up to greet them in a skin tight dress that was just long enough to hide his arse, provided he didn't move around too much. His sparkly wig of tinsel bounced as he walked. He certainly had no trouble walking in heels. "Show us what you've got under there, then," he urged.

The rest of the Weasleys and gathered friends looked over in interest. Harry blushed spectacularly and then raised the hem of the voluminous habit to display his shiny green shoes, and the white stockings. That would have to do, he thought.

A chorus of good humoured laughter rose up and Harry dropped his robes demurely and straightened his... Nun hat-thing.

"What about you Professor? Shouldn't you be wearing a collar or something?" Ron said to Severus, who raised a patient eyebrow.

"I have no interest in becoming a priest, Ronald," he said. "I've come as a vampire."

Harry gave his lover an annoyed look and then explained to the befuddled audience, "Vampires look like everyone else."

The night progressed amicably. Mrs Weasley had outdone herself on the flying snitch cake ("I'll never be too old for Quidditch, Molly," Harry assured her). The firewhisky and mead was plentiful. He tore into his gifts (spell repellent robes from Mr and Mrs Weasley, the Fair and Truthful Account of the Life of Albus Dumbledore, by Minerva McGonagall from Hermione and the latest in the range of Weasley Wheezes, a Polyjuice pill – which apparently allowed one to change sex for an hour, without irreparable surgery!).

As the night wore on, Harry became increasingly annoyed that every time he looked at his lover, the man's gaze seemed trained on George Weasley's barely covered arse. As alcohol gradually erased reason, Harry pulled the man toward him and hissed into his ear, "If I catch you staring at George's arse one more time, you will regret it."

Severus looked at him a long moment and then took a small sip from the glass of whisky he'd been nursing all night. He leant in to speak calmly. "I have no interest in gingers or Mr Weasley's freckled arse," he said firmly. "I was merely considering just how wet that bunch of fabric nestled in your arse must be by now. How my come has been seeping out of you for the better part of two hours." As by magic, Harry's mind went to moist strip of cotton covering his arsehole. He felt vaguely grateful that the knickers were so tight. "I was thinking how easily I could slide into you right now, how beautifully pliant you would be." Harry's mouth hung open. He'd stopped breathing. Severus' hand slid down his back and came to rest on his arse, fingers stroking the cleft through the robes. Severus continued. "I was further looking forward to watching your bright, red lips stretch over my cock. Picturing how dazzling your eyes would be as you tried to control your gag reflex."

"Gah," Harry breathed.

"Harry, my dear. You looked flushed," Molly said, coming up to pat him on the face. Severus' pinched his arse before removing his hand.

"Harry was feeling a bit out of sorts, this evening Molly. I gave him something to sort him out, but it would seem it was insufficient."

Harry stared mutely at his lover. Molly's hand pressed to his forehead in concern. "You're sweating, you poor thing. You should have said. I think we'd better let Severus take you to bed."

Harry successfully did not choke. "But the party," he tried to protest.

"Nonsense. There's no use making yourself ill. This lot will carry on without you," Molly fussed, pulling him toward the door. She shot out an order for Ginny to gather his things.

Severus stood silently smug beside him. No one but Harry saw the satisfied glint in the man's fathomless eyes. He stood vigilantly by as Harry bid goodnight to his friends and adopted family. Ginny handed over the bag of gifts and favoured him with a wholly unconvinced look. He supposed Ginny was well-placed to recognise the real reason behind the precipitous departure.

Molly pulled him into a hug and then, much to Harry's delight, treated Severus to the same. "Oh Severus," she sighed. "I admit that I was concerned when you and Harry started dating. What with your history and ... well, the age difference. But after seeing how you look at him ..." Severus' eyes widened. He went stiff beside Harry. "Well, let's just say that we know that look, don't we, Arthur?" she beamed.

The faint sound of gagging could be heard in Ron's corner.

"Thank you, Molly," Severus said, backing away slowly with a hunted look.

"Good night," Harry bid.

"She apparently didn't notice the way you were ogling George," Harry sniped as the two men arrived at Severus' house. "I can't believe you got me kicked out of my own birthday party," he continued. "One ni-"

Severus kissed him soundly, pressing him up against the door and shoving his tongue down his throat to silence the snarking. It should have been irritating just how well it worked, but Harry suddenly recalled the reason he'd been found in such a flushed state.

Severus stood back and smirked smugly. With a flourish of Severus' wand, something white soared from some unknown place in the house. Severus lifted his head and fastened the priest's collar around his neck. Harry eyed the thing, struck dumb by the multitude of fantasies that were born from the image.

"Do you have anything to confess, sister?" the man said in a low voice.

A rush of excitement set his senses alive once more. Harry took a deep breath. "I think I love you," he sighed.

Severus blinked a moment, clearly taken aback at the careless expression of sentiment. Harry bit his lip to punish it. Severus stepped forward and ran his finger along Harry's jaw, tilting his face up. He bowed his head to press a kiss to the abused bottom lip. "The sin of idolatry," he whispered. "You'll have to pray hard for forgiveness," he said, the corner of his lip twitching up in amusement.

In the end, Harry prayed for and choked on the benevolent forgiveness of the dutiful priest. He was further bent in supplication and filled until he cried out in religious fervour.

Later when the costumes were shed and the lipstick wiped away, the two men lay tangled in bed, floating toward the edge of sleep. Harry winced in memory of the slip up that launched his penance. "Am I forgiven?" he asked sleepily.

Severus gave a low laugh and pressed his lips to the top of Harry's head. "There was never anything to forgive," he whispered back.