WARNING: This is a slash story, which means it contains male/male erotic content involving consenting adults. If you're not of legal age or are offended by such material, please go find something else to read.

Title: Do As I Say (And I Will Be Your Slave)
Author: JayKay
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Snape/Harry/Remus
Category: PWP
Summary: Harry turns himself over to his lovers' tender mercies.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter related characters and concepts are copyrighted by JKR and Warner Brothers; this is for non-profit, entertainment purposes only.
Notes: This is a sequel to "Cherry Bomb," which is the threesome PWP I wrote to answer the "write Snape as a virgin" challenge. But really, the only thing you need to know about the "plot" to follow this story is that it takes place several years after Harry's graduation (he's in his early 20s), he's Remus' long-time lover, and when they found out Snape was a virgin, they deflowered him. That's basically it. I'm also answering Telanu's challenge to include the line "Oh, Professor Snape, you sexy bitch" in a fic.

*~*~*

Oh, Professor Snape, you sexy bitch...

A little bit of planning and arriving early for the faculty meeting had allowed Harry to arrange an unobstructed view of Snape, who always sat in the same place: two seats down from Dumbledore, who sat at the head. By positioning himself on the opposite side and end of the rectangular table, Harry could pretend to be paying attention to Dumbledore, when he was actually staring at Snape.

It had been just over two weeks had passed since he and Remus had discovered Snape was a fortysomething-year-old virgin and had taken it upon themselves to alleviate that condition. In that time, they hadn't given Snape any more lessons, but it wasn't for lack of interest on anyone's part. Things had been too busy, and their schedules had been off just enough to prevent another all-night romp, but it looked as if the up-coming weekend was going to be clear for all of them.

Still, they had spent time with each other, and it had been surprisingly pleasant. Among other things, they had dragged Snape to the Three Broomsticks one evening, and they had sat together during the last Hogwarts Quidditch match. Hufflepuff was playing Ravenclaw, which meant none of them had House loyalties to support. Snape was still as caustic as ever, but Harry found his company oddly enjoyable.

In fact, Harry had been eager to get Snape back into their bed, a thought which had disconcerted him until he admitted his continued sexual interest to Remus and discovered his partner shared it.

"I mean, I used to hate him," Harry had said, a bewildered note in his voice. "And now I want to shag him. How did that happen?"

"It's a fine line, and all that," Remus had replied with a mischievous smile, ducking when Harry took a mock-swing at him. "But I do understand, Harry. Sev's an intriguing man, and I like him. I've always liked him, in an odd sort of way, even when he blamed me for the Shrieking Shack incident." He shrugged negligently. "We worked all that out during the War, though."

"Did you want to sleep with him?" Harry asked, fascinated by this unexpected bit of information.

"Let's just say I wouldn't have kicked him out of bed. There's just something about him." His smile widened to a grin. "Besides, we were his first lovers," he added. "No one has touched him other than us, no one has ever given him pleasure or received pleasure from him but us. As strange as it sounds, I feel... proprietary now."

The more Harry had thought about that, the more he agreed. A little pang of jealousy stabbed him at the thought of Snape with anyone other than himself and Remus. One night, and he'd become possessive. He was the only one who had claimed that long, lean body, and he didn't want to share it with anyone other than Remus.

"So do I, but I love you," he had said, and Remus had captured his hand and kissed it.

"I love you, too. Nothing will change that," he assured Harry softly. "So what's wrong?"

"Well... you and I... we're together..."

"It's not like you're cheating on me." Remus gave his hand a squeeze. "Watching you with Sev didn't hurt me or make me feel jealous. Randy as hell, but not jealous." He turned serious once more, fixing Harry with a somber look. "What about you?"

"No, it didn't bother me, either," he answered honestly. "I thought it was brilliant. It's just a bit unusual, that's all. I never expected anything like this to happen."

"We don't have to let it happen again, you know," Remus said, but Harry shook his head vehemently.

"I want to!" he exclaimed, then grinned sheepishly. "That is... if you do as well, love."

Remus laughed and kissed him. "I do, very much. There's so much he has left to learn, and I want us to teach him."

And so they were agreed: they would include Snape in their amorous activities for as long as he wanted the lessons to continue, and neither of them would feel guilty for wanting it.

And so Harry amused himself during the faculty meeting by watching his other lover, making plans for the weekend that involved a lot of dampness, a lot of stickiness, and little sleep. He couldn't say exactly why Snape was so damned sexy. Snape certainly didn't fit the standard images of male beauty, far from it. His nose was too big, his skin was sallow, and sometimes it seemed as if he went out of his way to make certain he wasn't liked. Hardly conducive to sexiness, but still...

Harry stared at him, feeling a stirring in his groin. There was something inherently tasty about him. Maybe it was the mystery. Maybe it was his enigmatic air. Maybe it was his mellifluous voice, or his elegant, graceful hands, or his dark, intense eyes.

Suddenly, a little imp of mischief rose up within him, and he covered his mouth with his fingers, silently mouthing the words of a certain spell.

At the other end of the table, Snape shifted in his chair a little, but otherwise, his expression didn't change; he still looked as closed-off as ever.

Harry continued silently chanting the spell, staring at Snape, not blinking.

Clearing his throat quietly, Snape shifted again, more obviously this time, and Harry could see a flush blooming in his cheeks. Snape glanced around the table, his gaze falling on Harry, and it took him all of two seconds to realize what was going on. The warning glare he shot Harry was unmistakable, but Harry just grinned, unrepentant.

After the meeting was over, Harry remained seated, waiting until the room cleared so he could finalize their plans with Snape, who also remained seated for a moment, but Harry suspected it was for an entirely different reason.

"We're still on for tonight, yes?" Harry asked, once their fellow faculty members were finally gone and the door was shut, giving him a moment of privacy with Snape.

Snape looked at him from beneath a spill of ink-black hair, his dark eyes glittering, his lips compressed into a harsh line. Harry felt the bottom drop out of his stomach, a conditioned response to The Look, left over from his years in Snape's potions class.

Slowly, Snape rose to his feet, an ominous figure draped in black, and he stalked toward Harry's chair with a measured pace, his footsteps resounding off the stone floor. Harry's mouth went dry, and he clutched the arms of his chair, more aroused than he believed possible by the sight, even though he knew Snape might very well be furious with him.

Moving behind his chair, Snape curved one arm around Harry's shoulders, pinning him in place, and he leaned down so that his lips were against Harry's ear.

"You find it amusing to use the Magic Fingers spell on me, hhm?"

His voice was soft, as dark as his eyes, and Harry wanted to seal his mouth over Snape's and swallow the sound.

"I will remember that tonight."

"Promise?" Harry asked boldly.

"You have my solemn vow on it."

That pronouncement was followed by a nip on his earlobe, and Harry closed his eyes and gasped. His ears were his weakness: the slightest touch could reduce him to pudding, and Remus had taught Snape that on the first night they were together.

Suddenly, he was free, and his eyes flew open, his system jarred by the abrupt absence of the heavy warmth of Snape's arm around him. But Snape was already on the way out, not looking back at Harry as he strode away. Harry stayed put for a moment, still feeling a tingle in his earlobe.

Night couldn't arrive quickly enough.

*~*~*

At long last, the appointed hour struck, and Harry hurried to the dungeon as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself, anticipation fuelling his pace. He nodded and smiled at his students when he passed them in the halls, but he didn't stop to chat. Oh, no. He had somewhere to be!

The door to Snape's quarters was ajar when he arrived, and he pushed it further open, peering into the room beyond. The room was dark, except for the golden glow of the fire, and there didn't seem to be anyone there. Perhaps Snape was running late? A last minute detention to give to some hapless student? But then why was his door open...?

Harry stepped into the parlor and closed the door, looking around. The bedroom door was open, but there was no sign of movement in there either.

Curious...

"Hello?"

He was certain they'd agreed to meet in Snape's quarters, since Snape had a huge bed that was more than big enough to fit all three of them comfortably. Surely Snape and Remus weren't waiting for him at home--?

"Mr. Potter."

He whirled to see Snape emerging from the shadows, gliding into the dim light like a silent nocturnal predator. He held his ground as Snape moved toward him, unable to tell where Snape's robes left off and the shadows began.

"You've been disruptive again, Mr. Potter." Snape came to a stop in front of Harry and ran his finger along Harry's jaw, and Harry shivered at the trail of sparks that touch left on his skin. "Interrupting an important meeting. Improper use of magic. These are quite serious offenses."

Every word was a black velvet caress, and Harry wanted to drown in the warm melted butter that was Snape's voice.

"Always the policeman," Harry breathed, meeting Snape's gaze and holding it, captivated by the intensity he saw burning in those depths. "Always the guardian."

Snape cupped Harry's cheek in his palm, and Harry leaned into the touch, nipping lightly at the thumb Snape brushed across his lips.

"Someone had to look after you," Snape said, his gaze roaming over Harry's face as if he were memorizing the details. "You never seemed to look after your own safety. You just rushed in headlong." He smoothed his other hand over Harry's short but unruly waves of hair, letting his hand come to rest on the back of Harry's neck. "You needed a guardian."

"Is that what you were?" Harry allowed Snape to pull him closer, to angle him into place for a kiss. "My guardian?"

Instead of answering, Snape kissed him, moving both hands so he could frame Harry's face and caress his ears; Harry's bones melted at the touch, and he leaned against Snape, moaning as he opened his mouth to Snape's seeking tongue, drawing it in eagerly.

"Shouldn't we wait?" he asked, sounding breathless even to himself when they parted at last. "Remy isn't here..."

A low growl was the only warning he got before he felt a warm body molded against his from behind. Remus reached around him and embraced both Harry and Snape as far as his arms would allow, and Snape did the same; Harry was sandwiched between the two older men, and he had never been so pleased about being trapped before in his life.

"Yes, I am."

Over Harry's shoulder, Remus leaned forward to kiss Snape, and Harry turned his head to watch, aroused by the lingering play of lips and tongues.

"I got your message," Remus told Snape, who nodded.

"And?"

"Let's do it."

Harry could hear the feral grin in Remus' voice, and his eyes went wide. Remus and Snape had made plans? Without him? Was that a good thing or a bad thing? he wondered.

Skimming his hands up and down Harry's arms, Remus nuzzled his cheek against Harry's dark hair, touselling it even more than it was naturally.

"Just relax, Harry," he murmured. "Lean on me. I'll support you. Just give yourself over to us."

Oh, that sounded deliciously promising...

"What do you mean?"

"We want you to give over control to us," Remus said, closing his fingers around Harry's wrists and pulling them behind his back. "Put yourself completely in our hands tonight. Do nothing but relax and let us please you."

A shiver of sensual delight rippled along Harry's spine, and he let himself go limp against Remus' chest. He'd never totally given up control before, but the thought didn't frighten him, not with Remus and Severus. In fact, the thought of having both of them touching him, caressing him, making love to him, of being the complete focus of their attention was the most erotic, arousing idea he'd heard in a long time.

"Yes," he whispered, and Severus' mouth quirked up on one side.

His dark eyes smoldering with banked heat, Severus placed his hand on the center of Harry's chest, his fingers splayed.

"Teach me, Remus." He spoke to Remus, but his eyes never left Harry's. "I made a promise I intend to keep. Show me how to make him writhe. Show me how to make him beg."

Holding Harry's wrists in one hand, Remus tugged aside the collar of Harry's robes with the other, baring the tender joining of neck and shoulder, trailing his fingertips along the side of Harry's throat.

"Start here," he instructed. "Don't touch his ears, not yet. Make him wait for that."

Harry swallowed hard past the dryness in his throat, watching Severus move in closer, his eyes so dilated that only a thin ring of green remained surrounding the pupil. They were going to torture him with anticipation, they were going to turn him into a limp, sobbing wreck -- and he wanted it so badly, he could taste it.

"He likes to be nibbled," Remus said, his voice deceptively calm and soft for one who had plotted to drive his partner insane with pleasure. "Don't you, love? Use your teeth, Sev. Not too hard, though."

Harry gasped at the first nip of his flesh and tilted his head to one side, giving Severus clear and easy access to his neck; while Remus kept hold of his hands from behind, Severus unfastened the neck of Harry's robes. Beneath the fabric, he fit his hands along the curve of Harry's shoulders, caressing Harry's collarbones with his thumbs.

"Ten points to Gryffindor for being so well-prepared," he said, lifting his head to meet Harry's gaze, his dark eyes filled with amusement at his discovery: beneath his robes, Harry was already naked.

"Slytherins haven't cornered the market on planning ahead," he replied, and Severus lifted one eloquent eyebrow.

"Such cheek," he drawled. "Remus, we really should do something about that."

"I've only found one way that ever works," Remus said, reaching around to capture Harry's chin and pull him into a kiss.

Despite the awkward position, Harry returned the kiss eagerly, seeking out his lover's tongue -- and suddenly, he felt a nip of teeth on his earlobe, and he wanted to gasp, but Remus held his mouth captive. He had no choice but to wriggle helplessly in their grasp while Severus made a leisurely exploration of his ear, and Remus drew his tongue in deep, sucking it gently.

A warm, wet tongue traced the outer shell of his ear, and his knees weakened. Lightly nibbling teeth re-traced the same trail, and his legs threatened to buckle beneath him. He sagged against Remus, who wrapped his free arm around Harry's waist, holding him firmly in place.

"Relax," he murmured. "I've got you. I won't let you fall."

The tongue began delving into Harry's ear, every little ridge and crevasse touched and tasted, and Harry closed his eyes, releasing a low moan that escalated when Remus began mirroring Severus' exploration on his other ear. With both of them licking and nibbling his ears, Harry felt himself beginning to ache with need, blood rushing from his head to pool lower on his body; he longed to touch them, to wrap his arms around them, to caress them, but Remus' hands were clamped around his wrists, and he knew his lover was stronger than his slender build implied.

Sliding his lips along Harry's jaw, Severus made his way to Harry's mouth, claiming it, and Harry surrendered willingly, parting his lips, offering them up for plunder, and straining for more as they were sucked and bitten to a rosy hue. Meanwhile, Remus bent his head and began tracing figure-eights on the back of Harry's neck with his tongue, and Harry was trapped between wanting to tilt his head back for the kiss, and wanting to tilt it forward for the tight, wet patterns being traced on his skin.

"Undress him." Remus whispered, hot breath ghosting past Harry's ear and making him shiver. "You're ready for more, aren't you, love?" His baritone voice was a dark, furry blanket, wrapping Harry in sensual warmth.

How much more lucky could he get? Harry wondered. Having two lovers who could probably make him come just by talking to him was an embarrassment of riches.

He nodded in answer to Remus' question, and no sooner had he done so than Severus' long, agile fingers went to work, unfastening his robe the rest of the way down; Remus released Harry's wrists, allowing Severus to push the robes off Harry's shoulders and slide them down his arms. They puddled at his feet; Severus knelt to pick them up, and tapped the side of Harry's left foot, still in its shoe.

"We forgot something," he said, glancing up at Remus, who wrapped his arms securely around Harry's chest again to support him.

"Lift your foot," he instructed Harry softly. "There, that's it..."

Leaning his weight against Remus, Harry managed to lift the lead weight that was his left foot high enough for Severus to untie his shoe and pull it off, then repeated with his other foot. The stones were chilly beneath his bare feet, but the rest of his body was more than hot enough to help him forget. He rested in Remus' arms, aware that he was naked and his lovers were fully dressed, but he wasn't embarrassed, even when Severus stepped back to look at him. The flicker of desire in the dark eyes appraising him mitigated any awkwardness he might have felt under such scrutiny.

"Like what you see?" His own voice was a husky, tempting purr.

He expected a scathing retort, some sort of set-down meant to put him in his place, but Severus continued his leisurely perusal in silence, and Harry imagined he could feel the weight of that intense gaze like a touch.

"Yes."

Harry blinked, taken aback by the simple affirmation, delivered in a matter-of-fact tone with no hint of emotion behind it. But it was still a compliment, nonetheless, which he hadn't expected.

"Then come show him how much." Remus beckoned to Severus. "Put your arms around my neck," he instructed Harry softly, "and keep them there."

Obediently, Harry curved his arms up and back around Remus' neck, leaving himself open and vulnerable, and Remus trailed the back of his fingers down the newly-exposed underside of Harry's arm. Harry let his head fall back on Remus' shoulder and closed his eyes, gasping when Remus began to nuzzle that sensitive expanse of pale, smooth skin.

"Stroke his sides." Remus glanced up at Severus. "He likes that. Not too lightly, he's a bit ticklish."

Harry felt warm hands at his waist, felt them sliding up to his armpits and back down in a sure, firm caress. Another pair of hands joined them, moving lower, massaging his hipbones and skimming along his abdomen. Harry didn't open his eyes; he wanted to feel, not see. He wanted to bask in the attention, and enjoy the heightened sensitivity he experienced now that he was focused on touch rather than sight. His skin felt as if it had become one massive nerve ending, the slightest brush of fingers stirring him to greater arousal -- and when someone finally began teasing his nipples, it was enough to make him arch toward that delicious touch.

"Oh, yes," Remus whispered, a note of approval in his voice. "You remember what to do with those well enough."

Severus, then. A tingle ran down Harry's spine at the thought of the dignified Potions Master caressing his nipples with the intent to arouse him. It wasn't a concept he had ever remotely considered before he and Remus had taken Severus' virginity, but now that it had become reality, he loved it. He loved the idea of being touched by Severus Snape, loved that he was one of the two people in the world who could break through the man's shell of reserve.

And then a warm, wet tongue lapped at his right nipple, and all coherent thought fled for the moment as his world spiraled down to nothing but an aching bud of hardened flesh and the tongue laving it. If he could have, he would have grabbed Severus' head and anchored him there, but even though Remus wasn't holding his arms in place, he didn't want to move them. He didn't want to break the rules of their game and end it, not so soon.

Lips closed over his nipple, and he felt suction, followed by -- nothing. Oh, God, no, he whimpered silently. Come back, you have to come back, you can't leave me like this--

More suction, hard and fast on his other nipple, and Harry cried out sharply, arching and straining away from Remus' body in a silent plea for more. The warm mouth left his nipples and began a trail down his chest, mapping and exploring his skin with exquisite thoroughness. A tongue flicked out to taste him, teeth nibbled lightly along the way, and then he felt Severus' cheek nuzzling against his hip, mere inches away from his aching shaft, which had been neglected during all this preliminary torture.

"I want to learn what to do." Severus' voice sounded deeper and huskier than usual; long fingers curled around him, stroking gently, and Harry moaned as he tilted his hips forward in a brazen plea for more.

"Next time, Sev," Remus promised. "Harry's far better at giving oral pleasure than I am. You'd best let him teach you." His voice held an undercurrent of amusement. "And I don't think he's in the right frame of mind for giving lessons right now." He caressed Harry's cheek lovingly, his fingers cool against Harry's flushed and heated skin. "Do you want to come now?" he asked in the same kind of soft, gentle voice he might use to ask if Harry was feeling quite well. "Or would you rather wait?"

"Now, please now, I can't wait," he babbled, darting a wild look back and forth between Remus and Severus. He was hard, aching, throbbing, leaking, poised on the verge of explosion -- he couldn't possibly wait for whatever evil schemes they had planned next! He needed release, and he needed it now.

"All right." Remus stroked his hair soothingly with one hand -- and teased his nipple mercilessly with the other, making him writhe. "Sev, change places with me."

As smoothly as if they had practiced the move, Remus transferred Harry's limp body over to Severus without so much as a single jarring bump, and Harry found himself cradled against an unfamiliar form. Severus was taller, and he could tuck Harry under his chin in a way that Remus, who was closer to him in height, could not. It was an oddly secure feeling, and he realized he liked it just as much as he liked being able to kiss Remus without lifting himself up on his toes.

At some point, Severus had taken off his robes, and while he hadn't gone to the expedient extremes that Harry had, he wasn't wearing his usual layer-upon-layer of clothing. All that remained between them from the waist up was a thin black shirt that felt delicious sliding against Harry's skin, and he was fairly certain it was silk.

But all musings on Severus' wardrobe ceased when Remus dropped to his knees in front of him and grasped his hips.

"I know what you want, love." Remus tilted his head back, gazing up at Harry with smoky, sultry eyes, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his mouth; Harry reached down and skimmed his fingertips across Remus' forehead and down his cheek, heart-shattering love surging in his chest. "Do it."

With that, he took Harry into his mouth until his nose reached the nest of dark curls surrounding the base; Harry had learned how to deep-throat at a young age -- bless Fred Weasley's wicked soul -- but Remus had only learned after getting involved with Harry. He'd been practicing diligently ever since, however, and he used all of his skills now, drawing Harry in deep.

Tangling his fingers in Remus' hair, Harry groaned and flexed his hips, not quite thrusting yet; he was enjoying the feel of his lover's tongue wriggling along the underside and swirling around the head, teasing him with delicate pleasure. Looking down, he was enthralled by the intensity in Remus' expression, by the look and feel of his lips -- rosy and moist -- sliding up and down his shaft.

Then Severus began caressing Harry's chest, sliding his hand down to his abdomen and back up, side-tracking to swirl his forefinger around Harry's nipples before massaging them. Throwing his head back against Severus' shoulder, Harry moaned and, clenching his fingers in Remus' hair to hold him still, he began to thrust, fucking his lover's mouth. Remus' fingers tightened on his hips, a low answering moan rising from his throat, and behind him, Harry could feel the rise and fall of Severus' chest growing more rapid as his breathing accelerated.

He felt hot, open-mouthed kisses being rained on his neck and shoulders, felt the exploratory caresses grow rougher, massaging escalating to pinching, and Harry panted with need, sucking air into his starved lungs as the pleasure-tension coiled tight within him.

"Oh, God, Remy, yes," he hissed as Remus began using his tongue again. "Perfect, love, so perfect..."

And then Remus began sucking as well, and Harry lost himself in the exquisite pleasure; he gave himself over to pure sensation, pistoning his hips harder and faster into the warm, wet haven Remus offered until the tension spiraled out of control, and he cried out, shaking with release as his seed spurted into his lover's throat. He felt Remus swallowing eagerly as he sagged against Severus' chest, boneless, and Severus wrapped one arm around his waist, cradling him, and smoothed his damp, tousled hair with slow, gentle strokes of his palm.

"Let's get him into bed."

Harry could feel as well as hear Severus' voice, a low rumble against his back. He was vaguely aware of Remus rising to his feet, wiping his mouth, and Harry wished he had the strength to demand a kiss. But he didn't; he felt too drained to issue so much as a single peep in protest as they helped him onto the bed, carefully arranging him against the pillows. The covers had already been turned back, and Severus pulled a light sheet over him while Remus tucked a pillow behind his head.

Summoning strength and energy from resources he didn't know he had, Harry managed to rouse himself enough to turn his head, watching as Severus and Remus stepped back from the bed and looked at each other. Remus smiled, and Severus lifted an eyebrow at him.

"We're overdressed," Remus said in the voice Harry knew meant he was about to do something deliciously wicked.

"Then perhaps we should remedy that problem while Harry recovers," Severus replied, reaching out to trail his forefinger down Remus' throat to the collar of his shirt.

"Your pragmatism is something I've always liked about you, Sev," Remus murmured as he moved into Severus' waiting arms, and Harry lay still and said nothing, feeling the first stirrings of new arousal as he watched, content to enjoy the sight of his two lovers reaching for each other with the same eager delight with which they had reached for him.

Their lips met in a fiery kiss, the intensity of it telling Harry that while his passion may have been sated for the moment, theirs still flared hot; moans punctuated every new angling for more contact, every little bite and nibble, and Harry saw darting flashes of tongue as they explored back and forth. Remus wound his arms around Severus' neck as tightly as he could, pulling him down, and Severus -- to Harry's astonishment -- slid his hands down to cup Remus' backside, hauling him up so that they were hip-to-hip. It seemed the austere Potions Master was fast losing his inhibitions.

They were both breathless and panting when they parted at last, having bitten and sucked each other's lips enough that they looked swollen. Staring deeply into Severus' eyes, Remus began rocking his hips suggestively, and Harry saw Severus' fingers tighten. Sliding his hands down, Remus reached for the top button of Severus' shirt and unfastened it, then peeled back the fabric and nuzzled the skin he had uncovered before running his tongue from the V of the neckline all the way up Severus' throat to his chin, coaxing a low groan from his partner.

He continued unbuttoning the shirt, showering each new expanse of bare skin with kisses, licks and bites until it was undone, and he all but ripped it off Severus' back and tossed it aside. His tawny eyes gleamed in the dim light, and a feral growl rose in his throat as he surveyed his prey, reaching for Severus' trousers next, but Severus grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand away.

Remus gave him a questioning look, but then Severus yanked at the hem of his shirt, and he quickly helped remove the unwanted garment, letting it join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. With a noise of pure satisfaction, Severus closed his mouth over Remus' left nipple and began suckling urgently; Remus hissed and arched his back, plunging his fingers into Severus' hair, holding him in place. Harry watched, rapt, as Severus began moving down Remus' body; he was fascinated by this new perspective, able to witness every reaction the way he couldn't when he was involved. He saw Remus' lips part in a silent gasp when Severus nuzzled the soft thatch of hair on his stomach, saw his eyelids flutter shut and his expression suffuse with pleasure as Severus unbuttoned his jeans and slid his fingers beneath the faded denim.

He felt himself beginning to harden again, and he was shocked to realize he wouldn't mind watching Remus and Severus make love -- without him involved at all! But it made sense once he thought about it. He loved Remus, and wanted him to be happy, and besides, it wasn't an entirely altruistic gesture on his part to let his beautiful, sexy partner make love with another, equally desireable man while he watched. People paid good money for that sort of thing all the time.

And as for Severus... well, maybe it really was a fine line, and all that. It wasn't something he cared to think about at the moment, however. There were other, more pressing matters to consider, such as the fact that they were both naked, and Remus was rubbing languidly against Severus and growling in the way that meant someone was about to get pounced on.

Throwing back the sheet, Harry levered himself onto one elbow, unaware that he was staring at the pair with wide eyes and a slack jaw; their arms still linked around one another, they turned their heads to look at him, and Remus rested his cheek on Severus' bare shoulder, and while his lips were smiling, his eyes were smoldering.

"Our Harry has recovered," Remus purred, and Harry felt a warm glow burst in his stomach and spread throughout his body.

Our Harry. He liked the sound of that...

"So he has." Severus' expression was as somber as ever. "Shall we pick up where we left off?"

"Oh, yes..."

One last, lingering brush of their lips, and then they parted, turning their attention on Harry once more; Remus slid into bed on his right, while Severus claimed his left, and Harry lay still between them, waiting, anticipating.

"Roll over, love." Remus glanced over at Severus after issuing his instructions. "You've learned what to do with the front side," he said. "Now it's time to learn about the back."

Grabbing a pillow as he settled onto his stomach, Harry tucked it under his head and wrapped his arms around it, watching expectantly as Remus sat up beside him and motioned for Severus to do the same.

"Start by massaging his shoulders," Remus said, reaching out and demonstrating on one shoulder, leaving the other for Severus. "Knead the muscle... just like that..."

Harry closed his eyes, relaxing under their ministering touch. Remus' hands were firm and sure; Severus' touch was light at first, as if he wasn't certain how hard he could massage without hurting, but Harry's encouraging sighs and moans soon assured him, and he began digging into the muscles as firmly as Remus.

"Work your way down his back..."

Together, they massaged every inch of his back until Harry was limp and pliant -- and then the sensual barrage began.

"Look at him, Sev. He's relaxed, waiting for us. Use your imagination. What would you like to do to him now?"

The answer came not in words, but in the slow, wet drag of a tongue along the length of Harry's spine, and his fingers clenched in the pillow as Severus began to explore anew, covering the skin he had caressed with his hands in a different way, using his lips, teeth, and tongue. Not an inch of Harry's neck, shoulders and back lacked attention; every deft touch sent shivers through him, and when that questing mouth moved down, skimming over his buttocks, Harry spread his legs willingly, allowing it to fasten onto his inner thigh and suck greedily until the blood rose, marking him.

"You wanted to make him beg?" Remus asked softly. Severus must have nodded, because Remus continued after a moment's pause. "There's a way, if you're willing."

"What is it?"

A single finger stroked lightly between his buttocks, and Harry groaned, burying his burning face in the pillow. His secret was out. If Severus were willing to do that, Harry knew he'd beg right enough -- he'd beg, plead, writhe, he'd do whatever Severus wanted to see or hear to get more.

Hands on his buttocks, spreading them... Harry tightened his grip on the pillow, bracing himself, but it wasn't enough to keep him from crying out with pleasure at the first, hesitant touch of a tongue.

"See?" There was an undercurrent of laughter in Remus' voice. "Give him more, and he'll be yours."

The tongue grew bolder, as if encouraged, tentative licks turning into broad sweeps and firm circling; parting his legs as wide as he could, Harry opened himself to the maddening caresses, strangled whimpers emerging from his throat as every touch sent him into spirals of dizzying pleasure. And then -- and then that wicked tongue began to move inside him, in and out, stroking him, fucking him, and it was unbearable, he had to have more, he needed more, needed to feel something more substantial than a tongue inside him--

"Please!" The cry wrenched out of him, unbidden. "Please, more, I need more, need you, please, oh, God, just do it..."

He moaned in disappointment when the tongue withdrew, but then two pairs of hands rolled him over, and while Remus stretched out beside him, Severus moved between his legs, pushing them apart with his knee. Harry flattened himself against the pillows, shaking with need, staring up at Severus with liquid green eyes.

"Tell me what you want, Harry." Severus rocked against Harry slowly, a maddening tease.

"You, I want you." Harry reached for him, scrabbling at his shoulders, trying to pull him down. "Please, I need you, I need to feel you inside me." He spread his legs in blatant invitation, bending and raising his knees to present the perfect angle, offering himself up. He couldn't remember anything he had ever wanted more than to feel this man inside him, claiming him. "Do it, take me now, please, love, please."

Severus went still for a moment, his eyes widening -- and then with a fierce growl, he swooped down on Harry, kissing him roughly, swallowing Harry's cry of relief and delight when he nudged against Harry's opening, pushing past the tight ring of muscle. The slow thrust of his tongue matched the slow thrust of his shaft as he eased into Harry's eager body, and Harry arched his back at the welcome invasion, reveling in the dual penetration, only vaguely aware of how easily Severus had slid inside him. Remus' slick fingers teasing his nipples let him know how Severus had gotten prepared, but he didn't know -- or care -- when it had happened. He only cared that Severus was buried deep within him at last, and he wrapped his legs around Severus' waist, tilting his hips up to meet each thrust.

"He's so tight, isn't he?" Remus whispered, a sultry purr that enflamed Harry even more. "So tight, so hot... and so willing. He wants you so much, Sev. Take him, pound him into the mattress, if you like."

Harry choked back a needy sob, tilting his chin back to expose his vulnerable neck as Severus released his mouth, only to have Remus claim it, his lover's seeking tongue mating with his. Little mewling noises escaped his throat as Remus made love to him with his tongue, a counterpoint to Severus' smooth, deep thrusts.

But it was too slow, and he began to wriggle, unable to hold himself still, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as he strained toward an elusive release. He needed more, he needed faster, he needed harder, and as if sensing this, Severus' tempo increased, and Harry moaned loudly to encourage him. Remus' fingers closed around Harry's aching, leaking shaft, his hair brushing against Harry's over-sensitized skin and enflaming him beyond endurance, and Severus grabbed Harry's hips, dragging him along as he rocked back on his knees, positioning himself so that he could hold Harry still as he began to thrust harder, stroking faster.

Harry's entire body went taut, caught between Remus pumping him and Severus pounding into him, and he hovered on the brink for an eternal moment, his eyes squeezed shut, his fists clenched, white lights dancing behind his eyes -- and the explosion rocked him, the wordless cry of hoarse ecstacy wrenched from him as he came harder than he had ever before in his life. The world faded a little as he collapsed, marginally aware of Severus' final pounding thrust deep inside him, of the little reflexive thrusts that followed in the aftermath, of two hot, sweat-slicked bodies nestling against him on either side.

All he could do was lie there, limp, sated, gasping for breath. He didn't even have the energy to open his eyes when he felt Severus shifting beside him, as if sitting up.

"Come here."

Harry cracked his eyes open, pretty sure that command wasn't for him; at least, he hoped it wasn't, since he didn't think he could move yet. But no. Remus crawled over him, moving into Severus' arms, lying between Severus' bent knees and leaning against Severus' chest. It wasn't until Severus began sliding his hands down Remus' body that Harry realized Remus was the only one of them who hadn't come yet, and he felt a twinge of guilt... but only a twinge. If his moans were any indication, he was being taken care of just fine.

Exerting the supreme effort of rolling onto his side, he watched as Remus let his head fall back against Severus' shoulder, his body splayed in an attitude of total relaxation and trust; Remus had surrendered himself to Severus' hands completely. It wasn't long before Remus' back arched, his breathing becoming labored as he neared the pinnacle of release; a few more strokes, and his hips pistoned sharply as he rode out his orgasm, thrusting against Severus' hand, before collapsing limply.

Looking as if he were quite pleased with himself, Severus reached for his wand, which he'd left on the bedside table, conjured some wet, hot bathclothes, and he cleaned up himself and Remus before glancing over at Harry, who held out his hand for one of the cloths. He had recovered enough to wipe himself off, and besides, Remus was almost asleep, nestled against Severus' chest, and it seemed a shame to disturb him.

Once he was clean enough to rest comfortably, Harry scooted over and, claiming as much of Severus as he could for a pillow, threw his arm across both of his lovers and settled in. He felt the weight of Severus' arm draped over his back, felt Remus reach for him sleepily, and he sighed with utter contenment as he let sleep creep up to claim him.

His last thought before he drifted off was, Whoever said three's a crowd was dead wrong.