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“You won, and she chose you, and she loved you, and she’s gone… Now I’ve got to be there for her son” - It’s Over Isn’t It by Rebecca Sugar
Giving up his body for a half hour is the least he could do, especially when Harry (her son) came to him looking so pathetically melancholic.
It doesn’t matter that Potter has his pick of the Wizarding world, that he could easily find someone younger, attractive, good. He apparently wants what he wants. So, in turn, it doesn’t matter that Snape has little interest in being groped by a former student.
It’s the eyes.
It’s always been the damn eyes.
Beautiful, well-missed green eyes, all Lily and none of James. The things those eyes made him do, are still making him do.
The worst (best) part is that Potter refuses to break eye contact even with his mouth full of Severus’ breast. The obscene sound of his stroking, all slick and dripping wet, makes Harry’s pupils large, pleasure unhidden in their depths. His muffled panting grows louder each time Snape is masochistic enough to meet them.
His hand begins to cramp, the muscles in his arm unaccustomed to such movements. Thankfully, The Chosen One’s hips grow more untamed in their thrusting every minute. He can only hope the boy won’t desire a repeat affair. Saying no to him would be like spitting on her grave.
Finally, Harry’s eyes close, a merciful reprise. His greedy mouth continues to suckle through his orgasm, careful not to bite, his cock spurting ropes over Severus’ hand and the back of the settee. When he does open his eyes again, he’s all smiles and gentle doe eyes.
“That was brilliant,” the boy sighs. “Can I get you off now?”
“That won’t be necessary.” A wordless charm has them both cleaned of fluids, allowing Snape to finally, thankfully, put his breasts away.
“Oh, um, okay.” Dorky glasses askew, mussed hair, and glowing cheeks make Potter almost pretty.
“You’re allowed to have nice things for yourself,” He awkwardly extracts himself from Snape’s lap.
“Especially after everything.”
Meaning the spying and the killing and the saving and the heartache.
He doesn’t quite know how to answer without snark or insult, so he elects to say nothing at all. Even when Harry sighs, even when the boy requests he keeps in touch and takes care of himself, even when the floo goes inactive and he’s left alone.