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Summary: God, he hated his body. Why did it have to go and lust after Snape of all people?
Detention Again?
by Jade
"Detention, Potter."
Harry's jaw set in a furious line as once again those words rang out across the Potions classroom. He didn't even bother to protest that, as usual, he was innocent, because Snape didn't care. He needed only the flimsiest of excuses to punish his least favourite student, and even Dumbledore wouldn't do a thing about it, just beam at Harry and say, "Professor Snape is not out to get you, Harry." But he was, Harry knew it, and he was furious with himself because somewhere deep inside his twisted little psyche wanted it. Wanted him. Wanted greasy, cruel, vindictive Severus Snape.
Powerful, brooding, velvet-voiced, sexy Severus Snape.
Curse his sixteen year old hormones for deciding to wake up *now*, to *him.*
The class ended, and Harry packed his book bag, slamming things around as much as possible, glaring at everyone around him equally.
He was most annoyed with himself.
He'd always been fascinated with Snape, but he'd thought it was just hate. But then he'd had a dream, of Snape and detention and bending over a table and... he'd woken up with wet sheets and a furious realisation why he couldn't keep his mind off the man.
The next time he'd been in Potions, he'd tried and tried not to think of the dream, but as usual when he didn't want to think of a thing, there it was large in his mind. Snape had stopped in front of his desk and asked in the silkiest of tones if Mr. Potter was quite all right or did he need to rush off to Madame Pomfrey again?
Harry had glared up at Snape and his blush had deepened as he realised he was rock hard for the teacher he hated most. He'd mumbled something about being fine, then immediately caused his potion to emit loud belching noises by adding too much powdered frog entrails. The class dissolved into hilarity, and points were taken from Gryffindor.
And so it went.
And right on schedule, he had detention again, this time for *not* messing up a potion. Life was so unfair.
Harry glared down at his book bag as Snape glided to a stop in front of him.
"Here. Eight o'clock. Don't be late," Snape purred, then turned on his heel and was gone in a swish of cape.
Harry breathed deeply for a few moments, willing his erection away, so he could go out and rejoin his friends.
God, he hated his body. Why did it have to go and lust after Snape of all people? It was bad enough that he apparently was gay; he hadn't even got a little hard in fifth year when Parvati had slipped on the steps and her skirt had flown up, revealing that she wore a pink thong. He'd had to hear the retelling by his roommates for days after, Ron's rendition being particularly detailed. Though he never mentioned it around Hermione.
That's when he was sure.
He started taking showers at odd times when no one else was around. He had all these thoughts and no outlet, so he wanked a lot.
Then he dreamed about Snape, and Potions became a whole new level of hell.
He still hated the greasy bastard. Just because he fancied him didn't mean he liked him. The man was bitter and petty and sexy and... oh fuck he'd just got distracted again. This was not the time to be aroused, as he was currently approaching the Potions classroom for his detention.
He stopped outside the door and tried desperately to will his erection away. He closed his eyes tightly and pressed one palm on his hard cock and breathed deeply.
This was, of course, when the door swung open.
"Well, Mr. Potter, are you going to stand out there all..." Snape trailed off, Harry opened his eyes, blushed, and then remembered to move his hand.
He could think of nothing to say, so they stared at one another for a long moment.
Harry waited for the scathing remarks but they didn't come.
Snape just stepped back, holding the door open to admit Harry, the only sign that anything was amiss his slightly widened eyes.
Harry sighed and sank down in a chair, but Snape said, "Oh, no, Mr. Potter. You are not going to spend *this* detention lazing about and doing homework for other classes on *my* time." The man seemed to have recovered his usual nastiness. "Come here."
Get up again? Now? Harry sighed again and stood up, pulling his robe about him to hide the erection that never quite went away when he was around Snape.
Snape was standing by a huge cauldron in the center of the room, dark eyes manically glittering in the torchlight. Of course, Snape always looked slightly manic but that just added to his sexy charm in Harry's opinion. Oops, getting distracted again. Must stop that.
Harry shuffled over to where Snape stood. He looked expectantly at the teacher, hoping he didn't look like he was busy picturing what Snape looked like naked.
Snape just sneered down at him, and Harry's cock gave a jump. "Mr. Potter," he said silkily. "Do you have any idea what is in this cauldron?"
"Um..." Was this a trick question? "A potion, sir?" he ventured.
"Idiot boy," Snape snarled, and Harry stifled a squeak because the sound was so sexy. He grabbed Harry's arm ("oh god oh god he's touching me," screamed Harry's libido) and roughly pulled him closer to the cauldron. "What *kind* of potion?"
Harry stared blankly into the seething, bubbling pink mass in the cauldron. "I don't know, sir," he stammered. As a point of fact, all he could really think about was the fact that Snape was *right next to him*, not inches away, and *was still holding his arm*. All other coherent thought had now short-circuited. He was so hard that he was sure his cock could drill a hole through the side of the cauldron right now. Which probably wouldn't be a good idea, since he had no bloody clue what was in it. Which was what Snape was asking... oh.
"Precisely," Snape smirked, and Harry had to backtrack to remember just what Snape was agreeing to. Surely not that he could drill a hole with his cock through the cauldron... "I think you need to learn how to identify an unknown potion, Potter."
"Oh," Harry said. He had to admit that would be a useful skill.
Snape sighed and released Harry's arm, and Harry suppressed a pout. "Yes. Well, there are several ways to narrow down the composition of a potion," Snape began, slipping into that lecture voice that lulled Harry into fantasies. "I myself can identify over twelve thousand, five hundred and thirty... are you listening, Potter?"
"Yes, sir," mumbled Harry and dragged his eyes away from Snape's mouth and back to the potion.
"The first thing to remember is that potions have specific colours," Snape went on. "If they are brewed correctly," with unneeded emphasis on the last word, "They will have a consistent colour that you can use to narrow down the possibilities. Not many potions, for instance, are this exact shade of sickening pink." The sneer was evident in his voice though Harry didn't dare look up at him.
Harry nodded, trying to remember what Snape was telling him as he went on. "If you look in the back of your Potions text, you will find a cross-referenced index of the properties of over five thousand basic potions and their physical properties. When we have finished identifying the properties of this potion, you will look them up and identify it. So be sure and pay attention."
Harry nodded, making a mental note. Repulsive, no, sickening pink. Got it.
"What is another physical property of a potion that is quite readily apparent, Potter?" asked Snape.
Oh, how was he supposed to answer questions with Snape so close and he could almost smell the man and... oh. "Smell, sir."
"Good," Snape admitted grudgingly. "Smell is arguably the most definitive characteristic of a potion."
Harry tried not to grin. He'd got something right!
"What does this potion smell like, Potter?" asked Snape.
"Um..." Harry took a sniff. "It smells sweet, sort of." He hoped that was enough.
"What kind of sweet?" demanded Snape. "Sugary sweet? Honey sweet? Flowery sweet? You life may depend on this, boy!" Snape raised his voice, but only managed to raise Harry's desire.
"I... I..." Harry took another tentative sniff. "I don't know, sir."
"Well, smell it then!" said Snape. "Really get a good noseful."
Harry leaned over slightly and sniffed again. "I just don't know, sir, I can't tell," he whimpered.
"I said, get a good sniff!" growled Snape, and stepped behind the boy, put his hand on the small of Harry's back and *pushed* him down, face into the cauldron.
This time Harry did squeak, thinking Snape was going to drown him in the foul liquid. But he didn't, he stopped pushing before Harry's nose was too close, but didn't let him come up.
Suddenly, Harry realised two things.
Snape was *right behind him.* That meant his ass was right in front of Snape's crotch. He moaned softly.
And if he moved back just an inch or so, he would *feel* Snape against him. Only for an instant, and he could blame it on losing his balance, Snape would be furious but there wasn't much he could do, and he always thought this position looked so sexy...
Without thinking any more, Harry took a deep breath and pushed back, pretending to stumble, hoping he'd got the direction right because he was sure he'd never get this chance again...
It was just as he'd dreamed, and he'd aimed perfectly, coming up hard against Snape's upper thighs, pressing back against the man's body...
It look Harry just a second to realise what it was he was feeling.
A hard line pressed into him, lined up perfectly with the cleft of his ass, and just for a moment Snape pressed back, their bodies lined up and Harry gasped with the sheer perfection of a hard cock pressed against his ass.
Then a gasp and the pressure was gone, Snape had clearly stepped back and Harry was free to stand again. He whirled around, facing Snape, who was backed against the wall looking mortified.
They stared at each other for a long moment, Harry breathing hard and thinking fast. "Professor..." he began, but he was cut off.
"Don't," snarled Snape. "Just don't say it." He sagged against the wall, putting his head in his hands. "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter," he said, words muffled by his hands, not looking at Harry. "I know that's far from adequate, but it will have to do. I will never touch you again, rest assured." A shuddering breath, and he continued, "Detention is over. You may go."
Harry was still standing in the same place, stunned beyond belief. The ramifications were still flying around in his mind as he moved across the floor to Snape. He stood still in front of the imposing man, and whispered, "No."
Snape raised his head and looked at Harry, and flinched back when he saw how close the boy was. "I said get out," he said dangerously.
Strangely, Harry felt full of confidence now. There was no mistaking what he had felt, nor Snape's reaction when discovered. "You want me," he said unnecessarily.
Snape stood up straight again, regaining his full height, fists balled at his sides. "Leave now, Mr. Potter. Or I will not be responsible for my actions."
If Snape thought that would put Harry off, he was dead wrong. It just made Harry hotter. He stepped closer, looking up defiantly. "Make me." He was a bare foot away from Snape now, and his own cock throbbed. He was a Gryffindor, and his courage would not fail him.
"Damn you, boy," growled Snape, and in a flash he had hold of Harry's shoulders in a painful grip. He shook him slightly, and said, voice tinged with desperation, "Go now!"
"No," repeated Harry, looking straight into those dark eyes. "I want you." And he wrenched himself loose, forward against Snape, and he clumsily and hastily pressed his lips against the older man's. He grabbed handfuls of Snape's robes to steady himself and pressed as much of his body as he could against the other man.
Snape didn't even move for a long moment; Harry could have been kissing a statue. He'd begun to despair when a sound of wrenching *need* came from Snape. Halfway between a growl and a whimper, and with that Snape responded to the kiss, bringing his hands up to the small of Harry's back and pressing lightly.
It was Harry's turn to whimper as he felt a tongue lick at his lower lip, and he got the idea, and parted them. Immediately, Snape's tongue was in his mouth, moving and caressing, and Harry had to remind himself to breathe as he tried to kiss back. Harry had never done this before, gone this far in a kiss. But god, it was wonderful.
Finally, Snape pulled back, and Harry almost gasped at the look on the man's face. Clear need, desire, lust was written all over it; Harry had never seen the man look so open.
"What am I doing?" he whispered brokenly. "I'm so sorry..."
"No," said Harry firmly. "It's me, I started this, it's not your fault, I want this..." The first time they'd spoken without insults and derision, and Harry was reassuring Snape.
"No, you're a child, you don't know what you want..." Snape said, but with none of his usual vitriol.
Harry bit his lip, and pressed his erection against Snape's thigh. "I know I want you," he whispered.
A soft, desperate moan came from Snape then, and he pressed his thigh forward, rubbing against Harry's erection, even as he said, "We can't..."
"We can," Harry said breathlessly, lust sparking through him from the pressure of Snape's thigh. "You want me..." And he slid a hand between them and, not knowing where this boldness had come from, placed his hand on Snape's arousal. God, it felt huge, and hot, and sent another spike of desire through him that left him feeling weak. That was a hard cock, a *man's* cock, and Snape no doubt knew exactly what he was doing.
Snape closed his eyes, and Harry watched as the man's forehead creased as if he were having an internal war. "Potter... Harry..." he whispered without opening his eyes. "Tell me you've done this before..."
Harry stared up at Snape. He could lie, but it would become rather obvious if this continued that he had no idea what he was doing, so... "No, sir, I haven't," he said quietly. "Is that bad?" He knew many of his classmates were sexually active, but none of them had the unique problems he had. Like being in lust with his professor.
Now Snape did whimper, and the sound made Harry even harder. "You're a virgin?" Snape seemed to stumble over the word.
"Yes," Harry said, hanging his head. "Sorry." Now Snape wouldn't want him, knowing he was completely inexperienced. He stilled his hand.
"No one has ever touched you?" Snape asked with an unreadable look.
"I've only been kissed once, well, more than once now," Harry said miserably. "Once before." He started to withdraw his hand, certain Snape was going to send him away.
But Snape's hand caught Harry's, pressing it back onto his erection, and Harry chanced a look up into those dark eyes. "Untouched?" he whispered, and though Harry wasn't sure if Snape wanted an answer, he nodded silently.
"Merlin help me," Snape whispered in a strangled voice, then crushed his lips to Harry's in a kiss that made even the last one pale in comparison.
Harry lost himself in the kiss, no longer worrying that he was inexperienced; in fact, Snape seemed to like it. The older wizard seemed to have lost all reservations now, and he ravished Harry's mouth with an intensity that made Harry forget to breathe again. Harry felt himself pulled even closer to the older man, and he moved his hands up to hook around Snape's neck. It was then that it hit him; he was actually kissing Snape, in the Potion master's arms, and that was Snape's hard cock pressed against him... it was actually happening.
By the time Snape pulled back, Harry was panting and rocking his erection against Snape's thigh desperately. Snape smirked down at him and pushed the boy against the nearest wall. Harry whimpered, the wall solid against his back and Snape hot against his front. It was too much, he was too inexperienced, he was going to...
Harry gasped as Snape pulled back enough to get a hand between them. That graceful hand sought out Harry's trouser buttons, and made short work of them. Harry moaned and tried to protest as Snape's hand slid inside his underwear and wrapped around his dripping cock. "I... I can't..." he panted desperately, trying hard to hold back.
"I know, Potter," purred Snape, leaning down to speak directly in Harry's ear, so close the man's hot breath even turned him on. He stroked Harry's cock quickly, savagely, and said, "Let go, boy, just feel..."
"Oh god..." Harry cried out, as his hips jerked, pushing his arousal in and out of Snape's hand. He was going to come, Snape was making him come and oh god this couldn't be real... Snape's hand tightened on his cock, and Harry climaxed, helplessly, loudly, messily. The pleasure went on forever, and Snape kept stroking him, and Harry could feel the wet heat of his seed gush out. He came down slowly as Snape slowed his strokes, and Harry caught his breath. He whimpered.
Snape smirked down at him, looking very satisfied, and said softly, "Good boy."
Snape cleaned Harry off with a spell, and leaned down and kissed him more gently. Harry kissed back, wriggling as close as possible to Snape. His body still sung with pleasure and he was breathless.
Harry moaned as he felt Snape's hands slide down his back. When those hands got to his ass, he whimpered and pulled back. He could feel Snape's arousal against his stomach. He wanted to touch it.
Harry worked a hand between them, and was rewarded by a sexy growl from Snape that made his cock start to twitch to life.
"Stop it, boy, or you'll get more than you bargained for," Snape breathed.
Harry didn't stop. He squeezed the hard length through the material of the man's trousers, thrilled at the feeling.
"Potter," growled Snape. "Unless you want me to throw you down on the desk and rip your clothes off, stop now." The man's voice dripped with lust, and Harry was addicted.
And he didn't stop.
"Right," said Snape in that deep velvet confection of a voice. And he picked up Harry, carried him across the room and set him on top of his desk.
Harry moaned at the man's sheer strength, and lay back on the desk. "Professor..." he still couldn't believe Snape wanted him, had just made him come, was leaning over him. He grabbed handfuls of the black robes and pulled the older man down on top of him.
"Potter..." Snape's protest was cut off as Harry kissed him hard. This time, Harry felt more bold and he arched up against Snape's body. He parted his legs so the older wizard could get closer.
Snape shifted, and suddenly he was fully on top of Harry, and he gasped. This was it, the solid weight of the bigger man over him, almost pinning him down, it was perfect. He felt himself hardening again already, the pressure almost painful but delicious. He could feel Snape's arousal, big and hard and the implication of what the powerful man wanted to do to him made him moan. He wanted it. He spread his legs more.
Snape kissed him back savagely, pressing their bodies together, rocking his hips against Harry's returning arousal. He pulled back and said, "Potter, we have to stop..."
"Why?" protested Harry. "I want it." He'd never heard Snape sound that way, breathless and out of control, and he loved it. He'd done this to him, the man who was always so tightly in control and emotionless.
"Do you know what you're asking for?" Snape replied, tightly checked desire evident in his voice.
Harry nodded. He knew what sex was like between two men, though he'd never done it. "You want... I want you to..." He took a deep breath, blushing but forging ahead. "Want you to fuck me."
Snape groaned then, and it was the most erotic thing Harry could have imagined. He ran a thumb over Harry's lip and said, "Say that again..."
Harry whimpered now. Snape was turned on by him saying that... oh god, he was rock hard again. "Want you to fuck me, please, sir," he whispered, eyes wide. Just saying it made him even hotter.
Snape closed his eyes and looked for all the world like someone fighting an internal war, which Harry supposed he might have been. But he didn't move off of Harry, nor did the insistent hardness go away. Then he opened his eyes, and Harry fought the urge to squirm under that coal black stare. "Tell me to stop and I will."
Then Snape set to undressing Harry, almost reverently freeing him from robes, shirt, trousers, undergarments and shoes. The socks he left on, but Harry didn't care. With each new bit of skin exposed to the cold dungeon air, Snape lavished kisses and caresses. By the time Harry was naked, he was also about to beg for more.
Harry lay back on Snape's huge desk, and the man just looked down at him while he shrugged off his robes. Harry tried not to pant when Snape started to unbutton his shirt and creamy pale skin came into view. Snape took off his shirt, and his inky black hair lay across his pale shoulders, and Harry thought he would come just from that. He really wanted to let his hand stray down to his aching cock, but he knew that he would come far too easily with those eyes on him.
Harry whined with disappointment when Snape didn't take off his trousers, but walked across the room to get a small crystal bottle. The liquid inside shone gold in the torchlight and Harry could tell it was a kind of oil. Then he figured out why Snape needed it, and he blushed some more.
Snape held the bottle up to the light and smirked. "If you've changed your mind, Potter..."
Harry shook his head rapidly, and said, "No, sir, I haven't." Biting back his embarrassment and to show his readiness, Harry spread his legs wide, putting his socked feet on the edge of the desk, and ran his legs down the inside of his thighs. "Please, sir, want you to do it."
Snape's smirk faltered and his eyes swept over Harry. "For once, we are in complete agreement." The look of lust on Snape's face was something that Harry wouldn't soon forget.
Snape stepped between Harry's legs, pushing his knees apart further. Harry drew a shuddering breath as he was exposed to the Potions Master's piercing eyes. Snape's hands traced lightly down the boy's inner thighs, and Harry gasped, spreading his legs apart even more, arching up into the touch. Just the man's eyes and hands on him made him feel like he was on fire, possessed, and he couldn't wait to really be taken by him.
Snape poured some of the oil into his hand, then he ran that hand delicately up and down Harry's cleft, just ghosting over his opening.
"Oh god," gasped Harry, then moaned deeply as one finger pushed against his entrance.
Snape smirked down at him. "I never thought I'd see you like this, Potter."
Harry was panting slightly, but he had just enough presence of mind to answer, "But you thought about it, didn't you, Professor?" he said, using the man's title deliberately. Why did it surprise him that Snape was as twisted as him? "Did you imagine me like this, naked and spread out on your desk?" The thought of his professor thinking of him that way, perhaps right in class, was incredibly arousing.
Harry watched as Snape's face darkened with lust and he hoped he hadn't gone too far. But then Snape smirked even more, and slid a finger inside Harry, and the boy gasped. "Actually, *Mr.* Potter," he said in that incredible velvety voice, "I have thought of it. Rather often. Thought of what it would be like to shove my cock inside your sweet little tight ass." He moved the finger in an out slowly, and he leaned down over Harry, running his other hand down the boy's chest, and added silkily, "And I'm about to find out."
"Ohhh," moaned Harry, and he tried to breathe steadily. That finger inside him felt odd but at the same time it made him ache for more. He twisted, trying to get the finger deeper, and Snape added another finger. The fingers moved inside him, and suddenly it felt so good he was nearly screaming, arching up off the desk.
Snape just gave his crooked smirk and kept at it, adding another finger and Harry was panting now. He looked up at the dark-haired man, and he still could barely believe this was Snape. But he had to admit, their relationship had always been fraught with emotion, and he'd heard that people who hated each other were sometimes masking sexual attraction. And he'd always been oddly fascinated by Snape... it was time to stop thinking now. Snape had withdrawn his fingers and was now unzipping his trousers.
Harry's eyes fixed on Snape's trousers, as if he had to see the proof of Snape's passion himself to believe it. He moaned when the man pulled out a very hard, very large cock, and smoothed oil on it. He looked up and noticed Harry's scrutiny, and laughed softly. "What do you want, Harry?"
Harry's first name from Snape's mouth sounded incredibly intimate, and it spurred him to say, "You, sir, please take me..."
"Oh, I will," promised Snape, and he grasped Harry's hips, pulling him to the edge of the desk, before leaning forward and pressing something very hot and thick against the boy's entrance.
"Oh, god, yes," Harry gasped, and then Snape was pushing inside him, stretching him open, filling him and it almost hurt but not quite. A good kind of almost-hurt, and the look on Snape's face was almost the best thing. He was looking at Harry through half-lidded eyes that were filled with need.
Then Snape was moaning, and Harry decided that, in that incredible voice, sounds of pleasure should be illegal. Snape's breathy moans and his invading cock were combining to drive Harry insane. But he never wanted it to stop.
Harry gasped and moaned and pleaded for more, and Snape complied; soon he was driving in and out of the boy, gripping his hips and building up speed. It was too good, but Harry had one more request: "Talk to me..."
Snape raised an eyebrow in a very Snape-like manner, though they were in a very un-Snape-like situation. "Why, Mr. Potter, I do believe that the wizarding world would be quite shocked at their favourite boy's depravity."
Normally, such a statement would have annoyed Harry, if not angered him, but since Snape was currently buggering him senseless, cock sliding across his prostate with nearly every stroke, the words just drove him higher. He just nodded, gasping, and said "Yes, sir!"
Snape continued to drive in and out of Harry, and he ran a hand down the boy's smooth chest. "So pretty," he purred. "I've wanted to see you this way for some time now, boy. Tell me, how long have you wanted me to fuck you?"
Harry gasped and arched up, loving the sound of what Snape was saying as he took him. "Since last year, sir," he answered, breath hitching.
"Mmm," said Snape, snapping his hips as he drove in deeper. "Naughty little, boy, Potter. Tell me, did you wank off, thinking of me?" He almost growled that last, wrapping his elegant hand around Harry's cock.
"Yes!" Harry screamed, and it was an answer both to Snape's question and what he was doing to him. He arched up, driving into that hand as best he could while Snape drove into him. He dared to ask a question. "Please, sir, did you think of me that... that way too?"
"You mean," Snape purred deliberately slowly, as he began to stroke Harry's erection, "Did I stroke my cock like this," he moved his hand faster on Harry's length, as if to demonstrate, "While I thought of you?"
Harry nodded desperately, pleasure welling up inside him inexorably.
"Yes," hissed Snape, stroking faster, and that did it for Harry; screaming Snape's name, he came so hard he thought he would die from it. On and on, he pulsed his seed over his chest and stomach and Snape's hand.
Snape still drove in and out of Harry hard; when Harry was able to open his eyes he saw the older man watching him intently, quite obviously holding back his own release.
Their eyes met, and Snape sped up, murmuring "Harry," just once before he stiffened, and Harry felt himself filled by something hot and perfect. His eyes were fixed to Snape's face. He wanted to remember every detail.
Then Snape slumped down on top of Harry, and kissed him long and slow as he pulled out. Harry just lay back, clutching at Snape's shoulders.
Finally, Snape pulled back to look at him, and Harry had never seen such uncertainty in those dark eyes. "Harry, I'm sorry..."
But Harry cut him off. He didn't want to hear that Snape was sorry, because he wasn't. He didn't want to ask if this would ever happen again. All he said was, "Thank you."
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