Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Extra Lessons Are Always Appreciated	By : QueenB Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 9211 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. No profit is made from this story.

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Severus stalked up and down the classroom, his gimlet eye sweeping over the crowd of absorbed students. As always, he searched out the cheating, laggardly and the plain careless while trying to fasten on no one in particular. He had to maintain rigid control and let no one see his eye linger on anyone.
Damn Potter.
Severus was a ruthlessly honest man. It was a quality he prided himself on (well, except for pulling the wool over Voldemort’s eyes. But no one could fault him for that. The man had come back insane; complete honesty with the barking mad was a lousy policy.). He had to admit there was a purely selfish and totally illicit, reason that he desired to catch Har--Potter--in wrongdoing of any sort during class.
He wanted the boy.
Of course, he wasn’t a boy any longer, not that he’d ever been what anyone could call a carefree youth. There were those that would argue that Harry hadn’t been a true child for years now. It salved his conscience to think of that, to remember that Harry was a consenting adult and not an innocent, unknowing child Severus was corrupting.
Then the doubts would come crashing back in. Harry was less than half his age and still a student. He was the Golden Boy of the wizarding world and Severus was the devil incarnate. Well, technically that title belonged to Voldemort. But to quite a few wizards and witches, especially those in pureblood families, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was a distant terror, a bogeyman. To the children who had grown up under Severus’s daily terrifying tutelage, the Potions master was a true fiend.
And he was a Death Eater. There was no denying that, now or ever. In the Muggle world, it was said there was no statute of limitations on murder. A man could be hauled in for a killing he’d committed last week or fifty years in the past. They were merciless that way, an attitude Severus understood and condoned.
Was the wizarding world any different? He had killed people, even if no proof existed to tie him to those crimes, and received the Dark Mark, something that condemned him forever as a murderous bastard. If anyone knew what Severus did with their saviour, there would be hell to pay. The fact that Har--POTTER--wanted him as well would matter little in public opinion or that of the school officials. Almost a dozen times a day since his first prohibited liaison with that messy-haired menace, Severus had begun mentally composing his letter of resignation.
Hadn’t he attacked the Gryffindor, in all truthfulness? He had infiltrated the adolescent’s room, secretly and with mischief aforethought. Then he’d given in to his own lust, pounced on the eager flesh and fucked him…quite thoroughly, too. Severus had barely given his victim time to speak much less protest what was being done to him--touching him, kissing over that pliant flesh, thrusting his fingers and then his cock into that waiting hole.
After he’d finished, Severus had wanted nothing more than to leap back upon the bed and continue ravaging that wanton body. He’d only refrained by convincing himself that there were other pressing matters requiring his attentions--like more potions brewing. Potions and their manufacture had been the one great solace throughout all his years of servitude to Voldemort and service to the great but aggravating Dumbledore. Strange, how the thought left him flat these days…unless it was to brew more of the Invisibility Potion.
After he’d left Har--no, Potter’s--quarters the second time, he’d been nearly staggering with post-coital languor. It had been a torment to abandon that supple body with its golden tint and wildly tussled hair. Watching the imp run his hands over his nipples, down the lightly furred chest to paddle in the semen left streaking the tanned abdomen had nearly shattered his resolve to leave.
Merlin save him. He was getting an erection just remembering it, in the middle of class, and he’d never been so grateful for the voluminous robes he wore.
Damn Potter.
Severus stopped short and spun on his heel, his robes flying out behind him with characteristic dramatic flair. It was an action he had practiced to perfection. No, not the whirling robes, although he prided himself on well he managed that sartorial trick, but the sudden stop, pause and lunge to nab some unaware, bumbling pupil by surprise. No matter how often he performed it and how closely they watched for it, the students never saw it coming. He had surprised more than one erring miscreant with that move throughout the years.
But he failed to catch Potter.
In the past few months, the irritating spawn of James Potter had shown exemplary work in his potions. Severus was certain it was entirely due to Miss Granger’s unremitting help and had kept an eagle eye on them both in order to catch them cheating.
But he had to acknowledge that Harry--no, damn it, POTTER!--maintained a respectful distance from the Granger chit. He never so much as caught them exchanging notes in class these days. If she was giving him hints and help, she was careful to do it outside of the classroom where he could find no fault with them.
Severus retreated to his desk for the moment. His erection was becoming painful and walking was not helping. At least sitting relieved the pressure somewhat and allowed time for the problem to subside.
The urge to pounce on Harry (sod it) was nearly overwhelming. He simply couldn’t hold off for the two-day deadline the maddening creature had set and his own frantic desire appalled and worried him.
After their first encounter, Severus had known he would be drawn back as surely as a kite is reeled in on a string. But it galled him to think of how helpless he was to resist this mysterious attraction.
He had seen hundreds of students pass within these hallowed halls, quite a few of them far more handsome or beautiful than that blasted Potter brat. The unfortunate Cedric Diggory had been quite the fetching lad. Draco possessed the sexy swagger, flawless skin, hair, figure and stunningly aristocratic features that had allowed the Malfoy brat to plow his way through most of the student body, if rumor was to be believed. The Malfoys had always spawned beautiful children and Draco had been no exception. Even the visiting Victor Krum had possessed his own sullen charm. None of them had tempted him to transgression.
So why did Harry enthrall him so?
Perhaps it was those eyes. Yes, that was it. He’d cherished a secret, forbidden yen for Lily Evans before she had married a hated Marauder. It was the most he’d ever felt for any woman; it might even have been love. Perhaps this, this, yearning for her son was nothing more than the transference of those feelings to a more--what? Rugged? Appealing? Worthy?--object.
Yet Harry was none of these things. He was, Severus could admit, muscular in all the right places, but only in a slender, elfin way. He was the wizarding world’s shining star...and the thorn in Severus’s side for too many years. He was male and any other female would have been the far more socially acceptable choice.
No, Harry drew him in spite of his unsuitability not because of any possible resemblance to his departed mother.
Severus drew in a slow breath without changing the stony expression on his face. Honesty was hell to live with.
The erection having successfully subsided, he stood once more to resume his prowling. In spite of his narrow stare, he failed to detect any untoward dealings on Harry’s part during the entire class. The potion the Gryffindor had brewed just now was flawless, the pristine golden pink glow emanating from his cauldron untainted with any hint of green or even an errant leaf floating on the surface. Severus did not acknowledge his efforts and simply passed by to pick on some other Gryffindor’s less than stellar abilities.
Merlin, he needed to vent his feelings somehow and that soon. Otherwise, he would give the whole sorry lot of that House detention out of sheer bloody-mindedness.
__________
Unwilling to trust himself in the Great Hall, where his eye might stray to a certain mop-headed prefect, Severus had taken his meals in his own quarters for the last two days. It had been torture to hold off this long. But the two days had passed and now he waited impatiently for the footfall, the knock on his door, the signal that Harry was there.
He picked up the bottle of cognac and set it down again without pouring. It wasn’t as though he needed the false courage it would give him. He had accosted Harry boldly enough in his own Tower when he’d been naked, wandless and quite vulnerable. Here within the sanctity of his own rooms he didn’t need Dutch courage to tussle with one insolent brat.
But he’d taken more care with his hair this evening, washing it repeatedly until every trace of the oils from the potions had left it. His nails had been scraped almost until the flesh bled to remove every scrap of dirt. And he’d taken more cold showers in the past two days than he thought was quite healthy for a man of his age. His mirror had been quite giddy about his unusual ablutions, speculating in a quite irritating manner about who his new conquest could be until he’d hexed it into silence.
Still, he was nervous. Harry was coming to see him and that meant Severus would be visible…fully visible. He wasn’t certain his self-esteem could handle that, not without the imbibing of a hefty dose of liquor.
Severus was not a handsome man. He was downright ugly and he knew it. A nose so big you could hang robes on it, scowling eyes, limp lusterless hair, yellowed teeth and the thin lipless mouth of a lizard did not encompass the visions of romantic fantasies.
He didn’t improve with nakedness, either. On rare occasions, he had taken few sexual partners in his early years, mostly men as desperate as himself, and attracted more by the palpable aura of power and menace that he’d exuded than his looks. The Dark Mark had made it necessary to limit his encounters to either other Death Eaters or random anonymous encounters. Insisting on darkness of an alley where he could remain fully clothed had taken care of that problem although such bouts were less satisfying than what he could have wished.
In latter years, he had simply given up. Filth and squalor revolted him; tussles with nameless and faceless men wearied him. He had convinced himself that sex was something he neither needed nor desired. There was always his hand and a variety of creams and salves that soothed any itch very nicely.
When he was truly desperate, he would create a small Pensieve memory of a previous encounter and wank off to that. Afterwards, he always returned the memory to his head so it wouldn’t fall into unscrupulous hands.
No, sex with willing, happy partners was an impossibility for one so loathsome of visage as Severus and he had come to terms with that fact.
Yet Harry wanted him. Harry had called out his name while he wanked. He had fantasized about his greasy Potions professor and participated eagerly in both sexual bouts with Severus. That level of desire couldn’t be faked. So evidently his looks were no more repellant to Harry than Harry’s were to him.
Severus shifted in his leather chair, the material squeaking under his thighs as he subtly adjusted his trousers again. He had relieved himself once in the shower, anxious to ease the ache that had plagued him since the stray thoughts in his Potions class. He didn’t want to do so again, wishing to save himself for whatever Harry had in mind.
What was the whelp planning? That erotic book he’d seen in Harry’s quarters had stunned him though he’d given Harry no sign of that. He hadn’t spotted it before when he was rifling through Harry’s possessions. Either the whelp had hidden it well (Severus had overlooked the pilfered Slytherin tie and his own salve on his initial prying) or it had been a recent acquisition, something even his so-called friends doubtless knew nothing about.
It hinted at adult desires, at a fully matured mind willing to dare and undertake sexuality beyond childish gropings. Still, the subsequent sex had been tame by Severus’s standards and the blindfold…all right, that had been unexpected, causing arousal and anxiety in almost equal measure. The one emotion did not necessarily cancel out the other and had enhanced the experience immeasurably.
Oh, Harry had depths; Severus had come to learn that to his cost. How quickly the Gryffindor had divined his true identity on that first trial of the Invisibility Potion, keeping him from escaping after the sex, when a man is at his weakest. Severus couldn’t even complain about his stolen property lest the rest of the details of those sordid (molten, arousing, delicious--oh dear god) encounters come out.
He shifted in his chair again.
Blast the whelp! Where was he? It was past eight o’clock! What was he waiting for? True, he had given no specific time that he would appear at his dungeon door. But Harry had been so needy when Severus had given in and reappeared in his room. Surely he was as avid for Severus’s touch as the Slytherin was.
So what was keeping him?
Severus ran through his head the various duties of a prefect. Harry had his homework to do, extra studies with Granger, Quidditch practice. Severus’s lips curled in an unconscious sneer at the thought of that barbaric game.
However, he had to admit it had its uses. It had given Harry a beautifully built body, taut in all the right places without a spare bit of flesh on him. And that luscious arse…
Severus growled and sprang from his chair. He began to stalk back and forth in his living room, running his hand through his hair. Where the HELL was Potter?!?
So great was his agitation he nearly missed it. But there it was--a knock on the door. He ran to the door faster than he’d ever answered a summons from the Dark Lord and yanked it open.
No one. Well, of course not. Harry was wearing his cloak. Severus reached out uncertainly. “Harry?” he whispered.
His fingers met--nothing. Frowning, he stepped forward…and knocked his boot against the heavy metal box on the floor of the dungeon. Swearing under his breath, he reached down to pick up the strange object. His eyes narrowed as he recognized it.
This was Harry’s silver box, the--what had he called it? Tape recorder? What was this doing here? He looked around uncertainly before whipping out his wand. “Accio Invisibility Cloak!”
Nothing came to him. There was no whoosh of sound, no silky sensation draping itself over his arm. Harry must have been too far away or have the cloak safely under lock and key. So the brat himself was nowhere near. Then what was the meaning behind this mysterious gift?
Resisting the urge to slam his door shut, Severus let it close quietly and then carried the Muggle object back to his living room. Turning it over, he saw a piece of paper taped to the bottom.
He peeled it off and opened it. There was nothing written on it. But Harry had learned caution in recent years and Severus could detect the faint spell on the note. Waving his wand carefully over it, he muttered “Revelio” and words began to appear on it.
“Hello, Severus. I hope you don’t mind my calling you that.”
Severus frowned sourly. As if he had any choice in the matter.
“I’ve been careful. I’ve spelled this note so no one but you can read it. You might want to burn it afterwards. But read on. I expect I have some explaining to do.
“I said I’d come to your door. I didn’t say we’d be having sex tonight.”
His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. What? No sex? It was ridiculous, this crushing sense of disappointment, accompanied by the unhappy ache in his groin. But there it was. He had been expecting nothing less than a repeat of their previous encounters and now he was thwarted. What did that wretched boy mean by it?
“I did come to your door, naked underneath my cloak. Think about that for a moment. But this was what I actually had in mind for you. Think of it as a little incentive.”
Severus’s teeth clenched. Incentive? Torture, more like. The unpleasant child was penalizing him for his neglect of the previous week; he just knew it!
“I flatter myself that you might have been thinking about me, unless you had forgotten our little agreement. So I hope this will be a suitable stand-in. Maybe next time you come to me, you’ll want more than what we’ve shared so far.”
That cheeky, arrogant, sly little…bastard! Forgotten their agreement? Harry knew full well that Severus Snape forgot nothing!
He was on the verge of smashing the box on the floor and storming to Harry’s quarters, demanding…
Blast, hell and damnation. He was in no position to demand anything and he knew it. Harry might well have prepared for that contingency. He might have locked the door. Or he might have kept it unlocked and be studying with that Granger know-it-all…and wouldn’t that be embarrassing to Severus even if he himself were invisible? Granger might wonder why Harry’s door suddenly flew open for no reason but the brat would know who was standing there.
The thought of the boy’s insufferable, knowing grin was enough to stay Severus from his impetuous first impulse. He took a deep breath. Then another.
Realizing he was clenching his hand on the tape recorder hard enough to do damage, he relaxed his grip and began reading the note once more.
“There is a tape already inside the recorder. So all you have to do is press the ‘Play’ button. You might want to put a silencing spell on your quarters if you haven’t done it already. And get yourself comfortable. Soft sheets, warm salve…you get the idea. Oh, and give it back to me afterwards. I’ve got other plans for it.”
Severus sneered. Merlin, did the boy imagine him to be an imbecile? Of course there were silencing spells on his rooms. He had occasionally had visitors here that he wanted no one else to know about and silencing spells had become de rigueur for him. But that part about soft sheets was intriguing, to say the least.
He licked his lips unconsciously as he realized the true nature of what he might be holding. He raced to his bedroom and divested himself of his clothing with almost unseemly haste.
Naked at last, he stretched out on the bed and summoned his second-favorite salve (curse the boy for confiscating his best--he wondered if that had been deliberate) and set the tape recorder on his nightstand. He peered over it until he found the right button and depressed it.
There was a barely audible whirring noise. Then, “Ummmm. Oh, Severus. I love the taste of you.”
He started. Harry’s voice. He swallowed as the voice continued.
“I’m sucking at your neck. The way you nuzzled at mine makes me think that’s how you liked to be touched and you were trying it out on my body. Am I right?”
It was a good guess. When with a new lover, you tried the things you found most comfortable and familiar. Any lover worth the name was certain to tell what they did and didn’t care for. Severus arched his neck and clasped it lightly in his hand.
“My lips brush over your pulse and you gasp. I suck there, hard, hoping to leave a bruise. Even if I can’t see it, you will. I’m hoping you’ll leave it there, refusing to heal it, so you can touch it and feel the tenderness throbbing. I want you to remember who put it there.”
There was a curious possessiveness to that statement. No one had ever wished to claim him, not since Voldemort. Somehow he knew that there was care for him in the Gryffindor’s unspoken demand that the Dark Lord had never had.
“Imagine my hand, brushing over your chest. I want to twist your nipples. Do you like that?” There was a pause, as though the unseen speaker were actually waiting for an answer.
Severus drew in a breath and lay back on the bed. “Yes,” he whispered. His hands reached almost unconsciously for the flat nubs on his chest.
“Good.” The voice lowered to a whisper. “I like the way they feel under my fingertips, the rough pebbly sensation. I want to taste them too, Severus.” There was a slight lapping sound, very like a tongue flicking over a delicate area.
Severus disdained the use of ordinary saliva. It just didn’t provide the proper friction for him. So he dipped into the salve and began laving his nipples with it, his eyes shuttering as it quickly warmed with his body heat. He bit his lip as he pinched them harder, imagining Harry’s calloused fingers.
“I’m trying to imagine what you look like. It’s hard for me to picture. I’ve seen almost nothing of your body throughout the years. But what I’ve felt…” There was a sigh. Severus found himself breathing out at almost the same time.
“Your skin is so soft and supple. And there’s a bit of fur on your chest--not much, that I could tell. But I like that. I don’t like picking hair out of my teeth.” There was a soft laugh at that.
“I’m running my tongue down your chest, down the narrow part between your ribs. Your stomach flutters under my tongue and I hear your breath catch. When I reach the tip of your cock, I stop to admire it. It looks so…big.”
There was a sound like lips being lipped…or something else. Severus’s cock gave a twitch and he wrapped his fingers around it, giving it a tentative squeeze. Potter hadn’t spoken of touching his cock yet and he was loath to do anything to shatter the spell being woven around him like a silken web.
“I remember seeing it, outlined in cream. I wanted to touch it then but it all happened so fast I didn’t have the chance. Now I’m going to make up for lost opportunity. So I slick up my hands and hold it in my fist.” There was a short stretch of silence. Evidently whatever was happening made too slight a sound to be caught on tape.
“I start to stroke it. Soon it’s clear I’m moving too slowly to suit you and you wrap your hand around mine, urging me to go faster. Do you like it like this, Severus? Running my hand up and down your length, rubbing my thumb on the veins, over the leaking head?”
“Oh Merlin, yes. Harry, don’t stop.” Severus’s eyes clenched shut, the better to summon the image being played out for him. Harry, gloriously naked, crouched over his body, one fist working his cock with quickening precision. From the machine, he could hear the sound of flesh sliding over flesh, a perfect accompaniment to Harry’s words and his own movements.
“When I heft your balls in my other hand, press my thumb over every wrinkle, you let out a startled sound, like you weren’t expecting it. But you lift your hips up, just a little, encouraging me. So I touch and fondle them while I’m playing with your cock.”
Harry’s voice was just a touch shaky now. Severus could detect a slight hitch at every other word. His own breathing had changed to a stifled gasping. He tried to concentrate on what came next.
“You’re….oh Merlin. So close…” Was Harry talking about himself or Severus? The slapping noises grew more urgent. “Your…cock slides in my hand. It’s thicker and fatter, getting darker at the head. You sound hoarse now while you tell me to stroke…faster. You’re almost there.”
Yes, he was indeed. Severus was wanking with almost frenzied abandon at his own prick. The slapping noises from his own fist had become indistinguishable from those on the tape.
“Suddenly you brush my hands away. Wordlessly, you urge me to stop.”
Severus’s eyes flew open as he glared at the offending machine. Stop? Hell, no, he didn’t want this to stop now! He wondered how he could get the tape inside to reverse itself to repeat the last delicious passage and he was on the verge of fiddling with it to find out when the voice resumed.
“You push me back and I fall over on to the bed. You tell me you want to fuck me now, that I’ve kept you waiting too long and that you can’t stand it. I like the impatience in your voice. You don’t promise to be gentle but that’s not what I want or need right now and you know it.”
So the boy liked a bit of force? Severus had seen a little of that during their last encounter but still hadn’t wanted to hurt him. Violence and pain had been a regular part of his life once; it wasn’t something he wanted to bring to bed with him now, especially not with Harry.
But the voice continued, ignorant of his speculations. “You dig your fingers into the salve. I spread my legs to prepare for you. You swirl a long finger around my butthole. When I lift myself up on my elbows to see, you slide it inside me.”
There was a pause and then a whimper from the machine. Harry’s breathing was indeed heavier, broken by sharp, intermittent cries. He knew what the boy was doing, could picture Harry frigging himself. Severus moaned at the picture flaring to life behind his tightly screwed eyelids. He began tugging at his balls, the sensation causing his hips to twist on the bed.
“Oh, Severus. You’re…you keep hitting me there, on that spot, digging into me. Your eyes are staring…into mine, daring me to look away. I want to keep looking but when you stick in another finger, I just can’t.”
He could hear the bed Harry was in creaking, the boy’s…no, the man’s cries getting louder, almost feral in their intensity. “Harry, oh, yes. Spread your legs for me,” he gritted.
“My hips are rising…and falling, following…oh Merlin. It’s like…you’re…more there…lifting me with…your…hand. Then you know…I’m ready. Somehow you know before I do…you take away…your…fingers…and you thrust into me…hard. There was a barked cry followed by a drawn-out moan.
“You look…I don’t know how to describe it. You’re eager but you look…wild too…like you know…you can’t hold back.
No, he couldn’t. Harry had guessed that much. Severus would come soon. But he needed, no, wanted to stem the rising tide. He wanted to come with his phantom lover. Was it his imagination or was Harry lasting longer than on their previous times together?
“You’re…inside…and you’re so… Oh, Merlin. It’s incredible. I’ve wanted…you…so long. And now you’re…tilting my body…up…hitting…there…that place…inside. Sev’rus. Sev… Sev…rus. Oh, yes…shit…don’t…” There are sounds from the machine of Harry’s bed creaking, the mattress springs groaning with every movement.
“Harrrrry.” The illusion was complete. God, at this moment, every inch of Severus felt attuned to his unseen lover. Severus could sense the presence of another with him, smell the dusky cinnamon of Harry’s skin, feel the furred chest scratching against his own. The heat of his hand was Harry’s heat, the voice Harry’s voice and the wild cries echoing around the room answered his own. Heat was flaring over his skin in waves. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, as the waiting orgasm crashed over him.
There was a choked scream from the machine and, with a shout, Severus came all over his fingers. He couldn’t seem to stop and tugged at his cock until he knew himself to be entirely spent.
Dragging breaths came from the recorder and the Slytherin on the bed. Severus didn’t trust himself to speak, didn’t dare open his eyes. There was a copious stickiness now seeping into the sheets but he made no motion to clean it right away. He couldn’t bring himself to break the fantasy just yet and simply let himself lie bonelessly on the sheets.
In his mind, he could see Harry as he’d last left him: the green eyes darkened with spent passion, the golden skin gloriously flushed, the whole body trembling slightly in the aftermath. Did Harry look that way still or was he eyeing that machine, carefully planning his next words?
After several moments, the silence grew unnerving. Was that the end? Didn’t Harry have something more to say to him? Such as when he actually was coming to see Severus in the flesh?
The voice when it came was roughened with satiation. That’s what you could have been having every night that past week you kept away from me, Severus. I don’t know who you think you’re saving by staying away. But if you car…if you want me half as much as I want you, you’ll be with me for as long as we have together.
“No more waiting, Severus. Come to me.”
He would dearly love to throttle the man for his temerity. Yet Severus was so tired, worn out with his own culmination and the strain of expectancy and hope, he didn’t think he could move just yet.
It was so tempting to give in, to accept what they both wanted. Severus need not be alone. He had someone when he’d never dared think there could be another. He had not allowed himself such hope for years. Now there truly was one who hungered for him, desired him for exactly who he was.
He knew what it was like to be careful, could cover his tracks for as long as needed. And if he were discovered…?
He would manage. Severus had learned how to fall from the heights and land on his feet. And now he knew there was someone else waiting to catch him.
Glancing at the machine, he wondered how and when he would return it to Harry. He certainly couldn’t carry it through the halls while invisible. He could hand it back to Harry after the next Potions class when all the other students were gone, he supposed.
Severus grinned slowly, a sharklike smile. Perhaps an overdue detention was in order…

TBC
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Extra Lessons Are Always Appreciated