|Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven,|
@ 2007-08-08 21:51:00
|Entry tags:||coauthor: cruisedirector, hp fic admittance, hp fic draco/harry/severus, hp fic harry/severus|
HP fic: Admittance, ch. 3: Disobedience [Snape/Harry, Draco/Snape/Harry, adult]
Chapter 3, "Disobedience"
Authors: celandineb and cruisedirector
Pairings: Snape/Harry, Draco/Snape/Harry
Warnings: infidelity, rimming, spanking
Summary: Snape is having trouble with his new broom and asks Harry and Draco for help.
Harry was standing in the kitchen, barefoot and yawning as he spelled the teakettle to boil, when the morning post arrived. Two invitations to Ministry functions he had no wish to attend, several requests for donations to worthy causes, a note from Remus... and what was this?
The handwriting was suspiciously familiar, though Harry had never seen it on an envelope before. It was addressed to Messrs. Malfoy and Potter, however, so he slit it open, smoothing out the folded parchment inside. "Draco!" he called out, reading, before he realized that Draco was in the shower. He went into the bathroom -- ignoring Draco's complaints that he was letting in the cold air -- and waved the letter at him.
"We've had a letter from Snape. Seems he's having trouble with his new broom. I think he's asking for us for help."
The water stopped and Draco's arm reached out for a towel. "Having trouble with his broom?" he snickered. "Needs someone to polish the stick, does he?"
Hearing it phrased that way, Harry had to smile. "He says he finally replaced his Cleansweep and thought that two avid Quidditch players might have a suggestion on treating the handle. Of course he didn't actually come right out and ask for help." He started to hand Draco the towel, then thought better of it and began to dry him off himself.
"Of course he didn't actually come right out and say what he really wanted. Probably to have it varnished," Draco snickered, arching his back as Harry rubbed it dry. "How urgent is this problem of his?"
Harry glanced at the parchment. "He's asking if we could come over tomorrow."
"Well, write him back and tell him... wait, what time?" Draco took the parchment from Harry, wet fingers smearing the ink. "Bugger. I'll have to meet you there. I can't not meet my father again -- he'll come here."
"Since we haven't learned that redecorating charm yet, I'd rather not have him visiting," agreed Harry.
"Even if he's the one who's been writing all those flattering Ministry pamphlets?"
Draco grinned and set the parchment down, taking the towel to dry his hair, while Harry shuddered. "I wish Snape hadn't mentioned that. Makes me feel under obligation to him, which is not somewhere I want to be."
"Well, technically you're under a greater obligation to Snape, seeing as he did save your life. Which I suppose means that I'm under an obligation to him as well... what do you suppose I have that he wants?"
The smile on Draco's face was very wicked, and Harry couldn't help noticing that he was half-hard as well. "He seemed to like your arse well enough the other day," Harry teased.
"He was at least as interested in yours," returned Draco. "Which I can well understand. You're the hottest thing on this side of the Channel, you know."
Harry caught sight of his own pink face in the mirror and turned, not wanting to meet Draco's eyes. He didn't want to admit how much it excited him that Snape wanted him that way. Not because he thought it bothered Draco, for Draco seemed intrigued by the idea, and after all, he had been the one to invite Snape over. It just didn't seem quite right after hating Snape for so long that he really wanted to... well, fuck him again, as soon as possible. He hoped he wouldn't get hard talking about broomsticks.
Draco's arms caught him around the waist, and a finger snaked into the waistband of his pyjama bottoms. "I'm feeling quite interested in your arse right now, come to think of it."
"The kettle's boiling," Harry protested weakly, but he was already helping Draco to finish undressing him. Wizarding kettles couldn't boil dry.
The next morning, Harry showered early; he knew that if he saw Draco in the bathroom again, there would just be a repeat of the day before and they would both be late again, if only for personal appointments rather than work. Draco went to meet his father, but because it was a Saturday, Harry had no place he particularly needed to be. He decided to take a walk, hoping that some of his restless agitation would fade before he showed up on Snape's doorstep at the stroke of twelve. For awhile he browsed in Flourish & Blotts, then spent some time in Quality Quidditch Supplies, where he picked up a jar of broom polish. Perhaps Snape really did need help with his broom, after all.
He had never actually been to Snape's flat before; there had been no reason to go. It was off a narrow passage near Knockturn Alley, and Harry walked over cobblestones that smelt of cabbage leaves and cat piss before knocking at number eight, Dorse Close. Snape had always insisted on punctuality at Hogwarts, so Harry was surprised to be kept waiting outside for nearly two minutes after an initial, irritable, "One moment!" When the door finally opened, he beheld a Snape who appeared somewhat disheveled, as if he had thrown his clothing on quickly. "Potter, what are you doing here at this hour?"
"It's twelve o'clock," said Harry blankly, pulling the invitation from his pocket. "Draco had to see Lucius this morning so we said we'd meet here." He held the crumpled letter out. "Don't say that this is a joke."
The parchment was snatched out of his hands and Snape pointed at the time that was written there. "What does that say?"
"That's not a twelve, it's a two. Two o'clock," Snape growled at him.
"Oh. The ink is smudged." Harry felt as if he were eleven years old again, facing an angry Potions professor. There was no way he was going to explain to Snape how the ink had got smeared that way. Trying not to cringe, he said, "I'm sorry -- I guess, ah, I'll come back later..."
Snape was staring at him with a mixture of suspicion and wariness. "Just come in," he demanded irritably.
The paint was peeling on the woodwork of the entryway and the floorboards creaked under Harry's feet, giving way with the dead feel of wood that was close to rotting. "My splendid domicile," Snape said, his tones heavy with irony as he pointed Harry into the sitting room.
Harry shrugged. "It has atmosphere," he offered, but Snape only sneered at his feeble attempt at politeness. This visit seemed unlikely to work out well... and it was going to be two hours before Draco arrived.
"I suppose you'd like a drink," Snape grumbled and disappeared in what was evidently the direction of the kitchen. Harry took the opportunity to glance at the books on the double-stacked shelves. Reading material was something Snape appeared to have in abundance, as opposed to furniture and decorations. Harry was about to pull out a book on poison inks when Snape stepped back in the room and snapped sharply, "Don't touch that!"
"Sorry," said Harry meekly, accepting the bottle of butterbeer from Snape's outstretched hand. "Is it Restricted Section material?"
"Every page contains a sample of the ink described, and if you open it without gloves on, you'll be dead before you reach Invisible Inks," Snape replied crossly.
"Oh." Harry supposed that if Snape was the only one who normally ever used the books, it didn't matter. But it suggested that he had very few visitors, and Harry found himself feeling an unexpected sympathy. He took a drink to cover his confusion. "You said that you bought a new broom? What's the make?"
"I didn't buy it, it was a gift." Snape's vehemence was unexpected and Harry couldn't guess why. Was he embarrassed to be receiving gifts? Did he consider something as practical as a broom to be an indulgence? "Why don't I show it to you?" Turning, he swept out of the room, and Harry set down his butterbeer, assuming that he was meant to follow.
Since the flat was very small, Snape's bedroom was only a few steps away. Harry followed him inside and watched Snape pull the broom from a closet as one might pick up an antique. He laid it carefully on the bed and Harry saw that it was a Thunderbolt -- the newer, faster successor to the Firebolt. He whistled, but Snape appeared to flinch. "Take it, if you like, and give me something more practical in exchange. I don't know what Lucius was thinking, sending me such a thing."
"Don't you want it? Half the professional teams in Britain aren't flying on this quality of broom," said Harry, running his fingers along the smooth shaft longingly. "What's wrong with the handle? It seems perfectly fine to me. Have you flown on it yet?"
Snape flushed unbecomingly. "No. I don't fly much."
"But Lucius gave this to you as a gift?"
Harry didn't mean the remark critically, but Snape seemed to take it that way. "Unless he gave it to me as a bribe, and since I have already nodded meekly and agreed with everything he has told the Ministry..." Abruptly Snape seemed to remember that he was speaking to Lucius son's lover, even though Harry's opinion of Lucius Malfoy could hardly have been any lower. Except for an apparently sincere attachment to his offspring, the elder Malfoy had little to recommend him, Harry felt.
"Well, I don't think you have to worry about scratching it or anything -- unless you fly into the Whomping Willow, this will be hard to damage." His fingers were still stroking the handle and he became aware that Snape was watching them intently. As he snatched them away, heat flooded his face, and worse, his groin.
"So there's nothing you would recommend that I do for preventive maintenance?" Snape reached out and imitated the motion that Harry had been making. "No particular oil, perhaps, to treat the wood and keep it at a proper level of polish for optimum performance?" His eyes were still on Harry as his thumb rubbed over the end of the handle. "I was sure that you, with your fondness for Quidditch, would have suggestions."
Harry swallowed. "I did pick up some broom polish on my way here, but I didn't realize you'd have a Thunderbolt. What I bought is just water-based; I think Thunderbolt's makers recommend something with walnut oil in it."
"Let me see." Snape held out his hand and Harry reached into his pocket, pulling out the little jar. Snape's expression was odd as he took it, and he said "Thank you" without the sneer that Harry half-expected. Anyone would have thought that Snape was happier to get a container of polish than the world's most expensive broom.
Then, to Harry's shock, Snape shoved the broom off the bed and onto the floor. "What..." Harry started to ask, but he never got the question out, because Snape had lunged at him and was kissing him, pulling him toward the bed.
Snape's mouth on his was just as Harry remembered it. No finesse here; this kiss demanded Harry's attention as much as the most meticulous potion instructions he had ever followed in one of Snape's classes. He tumbled down onto the mattress and Snape rolled over on top of him, knocking Harry's glasses askew so that one earpiece was cutting into his cheek, but he ignored it, not wanting anything to interrupt. When Snape finally broke away, breathing heavily, Harry stifled a whimper.
How did Snape do this to him? "Potter," he said in a strained voice, and Harry felt his already stiffening cock leap to attention, prodding against Snape's thigh. He didn't know whether to apologize or wriggle and thrust up, which was what his lower body wanted. Snape, too, looked chagrined for a moment, as if he thought he should ask forgiveness or at least withdraw, but then he reached to straighten Harry's glasses and Harry couldn't hold back the moan that escaped his lips.
In a single gesture Snape removed the glasses and sent them floating across the room. With his vision blurred, the only thing Harry could see clearly were Snape's eyes and mouth hovering just above him. Do that again, he wanted to beg. Somehow what came out instead was "Sir," but it might have meant the same thing.
Certainly Snape seemed to understand, because he brought his mouth to Harry's once again, with just as much avidity as before, and now Harry could tell that Snape's cock was as hard as his own. He thought about having it up his arse, of having Snape fuck him the way he had Draco, and a shudder passed through him. The next time his lips were free, he mumbled, "Please..."
The tone strove for but did not quite achieve that whip-crack it had had in the classroom, but still made Harry's longing flare higher. "Please, sir..." Harry could not force the words fuck me past his lips. "Would you..." His fingers tugged at the fastenings on Snape's robes. Why did Snape always dress like he was going to a funeral, and why did his clothes have so many buttons?
While Harry was fumbling, Snape grasped Harry's shirt and muttered something under his breath. The shirt ripped neatly in two, and Snape tossed aside the pieces as Harry stared. "Surely you can manage a simple 'Reparo,' Potter?"
"I can." And then Harry remembered something Draco had taught him. "Refigo!" He smiled a little as every button on Snape's clothing popped itself free.
Snape looked discomfited for an instant, but a little pleased too, as if Harry had brewed a complex potion correctly when Snape had expected his cauldron to melt instead. He shrugged out of his loosened robes, baring his scarred and aging body defiantly to Harry's gaze. His cock stood up hard and ruddy from dark curls. Harry licked his kiss-swollen lips, recalling the taste from last week. He sat up and reached for it, but to his surprise Snape moved away.
"Your turn, Potter." A moment later Snape had slid down the edge of the bed, pulling Harry forward by his hips. His dark hair fell forward like a curtain over his face as he bent his head into Harry's lap. "Don't think this means that I'm not going to fuck you," he said and ran his tongue over the leaking slit.
"Fuck," Harry gasped, arching helplessly toward Snape's mouth, which opened and sucked him inside. He wouldn't last two minutes like this.
However long it had been since Snape had done this -- and Harry had his suspicions on that score -- his cocksucking technique was more practiced and subtle than his kissing. Just when Harry thought he was about to come, Snape relinquished the suction and instead began a leisurely exploration, slipping his tongue along Harry's shaft and down to his balls, using his teeth to tug at them gently. Harry clenched at the thin duvet and moaned. "Oh -- please -- don't," he babbled.
"Don't?" With a final, rather sharp bite inside Harry's thigh, Snape rose, standing over Harry and staring down at him, his own cock twitching. "Very well. Turn around. On your knees."
Harry's knees were shaking slightly, but he quickly scrambled onto all fours, blurting out, "Yes, sir." It did not seem right that talking to Snape that way in bed made him so hard when it had made him angry for so many years to have to do it. He felt Snape's fingers stroke over his bum, then slide down the middle and hold him open as his tongue picked up where it had left off from the front, coming up behind his balls and right across his arsehole.
It was almost too much for Harry, having Snape's tongue snake inside him, but he could hardly protest. He only hoped that he wouldn't come from this alone, which seemed not at all impossible just at the moment. He wriggled his knees further apart and let his head hang down, quivering as Snape sucked at him.
With a final, delicious lick Snape's tongue left him, only to be replaced by what Harry decided must be two fingers, from the sense of fullness in his arse. Was Snape using... he couldn't be using the broom polish Harry had brought, could he? Well, Snape was the Potions expert... Harry could only hope that he knew what he was doing. It certainly felt like he did; Harry could hear himself moaning as he pressed back on Snape's fingers. "M-more," he whispered, ashamed of how his voice shook yet unable to expend much energy worrying about it. He wanted Snape inside him, even if Snape made him beg for it.
Whether Snape did, indeed, want to make him beg or only to be perfectly clear that Harry wanted this, he leaned over Harry's back so that his chin was brushing Harry's shoulder as he hissed in his ear, "Do you want me to fuck you, Potter?"
Harry nodded, gulped, and then said softly, "Please, sir, yes, I want you to fuck me," with a sense of relief and finality as he spoke aloud what he had been thinking ever since Draco had told him that bedtime story. He tried not to tense up, anticipating. Snape did not keep him waiting long. He buried his mouth in Harry's hair and Harry had the impression that he was trying to stop himself from moaning or perhaps kissing his back.
After a moment Snape moved back slightly, and Harry could hear him sliding slick fingers up his cock, preparing it before he pressed against Harry's stretched entrance and pushed. It was bigger than Draco's, and there was a moment of sharp pain before the thickest part of the head had slid inside. Harry couldn't help grunting in discomfort, and he felt Snape go still.
"Are you all right?" The words were spoken to sound very nearly disinterested, yet Harry was surprised that Snape had asked at all.
"Give me a second," he replied, doing his best to relax. Snape's breath was warm against his ear. Harry inhaled deeply and let the tightness drain away as he exhaled. "All right." Slowly, he felt Snape slide further in, pausing often, but the ache was less than the satisfaction and the noises Harry made now were moans of pleasure rather than pain as he was stretched to his limit. "Please, sir," he begged again, now unashamed by his need. "Fuck me."
Snape's fingers closed around his hip as he began to thrust steadily, shifting upright, which changed the angle. Pleasure so acute that it was almost unbearable shot through Harry; he cried out, clutching the duvet and twisting it completely off the top of the bed. Snape groaned as well, thighs slapping against the backs of Harry's as he moved. Harry wanted desperately to touch himself, but he was afraid that he would lose his balance and be knocked face-first onto the mattress if he lifted either of his hands.
Just when he thought he couldn't bear it, Snape unclenched his fingers from Harry's hip and reached for his cock. He was half-bent over again, and he grunted, "Harry..."
His name on Snape's lips was the sexiest thing Harry had ever heard, he thought, as Snape's hand closed around him. That voice just made every nerve in his body quiver. "Severus," he gasped in return as Snape started to fist his cock in a rapid rhythm. He heard Snape grunt again and begin to pound even harder. Harry was writhing, teetering on the edge between torment and ecstasy as Snape slammed into him. With a wail he exploded, thick splatters of come falling through Snape's fingers and onto the duvet.
Through the haze of pleasure he heard Snape groan his name again, loudly now, as unrestrained as the frenzied movements that drove his cock deep inside Harry. He felt Snape's open mouth on the back of his shoulder and neck, tasting him, sucking, then the hand on his cock left a wet smear over his hip as Snape pulled it to his face, where Harry could hear him sucking the fingers.
"Oh fuck, Severus," he choked, and felt Snape stiffen, pressed deep inside him, no longer thrusting. Then Snape let out a roar and flattened Harry with one final push, crushing Harry's hips as he pumped himself into his arse.
They sprawled forward together. The weight of Snape on top of him was somehow less than Harry had expected; although when he thought about it, Snape and Draco were nearly the same height and build, tall but not broad. But Snape had loomed so large in his days at Hogwarts, and recently, his mind whispered, that it seemed he should be equally huge physically, and not just when it came to that cock now slipping away from him. With a sigh Snape rolled off to Harry's left and Harry twisted around to look at his face. "Thank you," he whispered, and saw Snape's eyebrows go up.
"I trust that Mister Malfoy will forgive us for starting without him?" Harry gave a guilty jump. He hadn't even stopped to think about how Draco might feel about Harry fucking Snape without him present. It was one thing for the three of them to do it together, but this...
"This was all Draco's idea in the first place," he insisted.
"Indeed." Snape's voice was dry.
"Well... last time it was. And I wouldn't be here today if it hadn't been for that," said Harry. He considered the matter. Draco had certainly been quite enthusiastic about the notion of another assignation with Snape, even though they had both assumed all three of them would be present for it. "I don't think he'll mind."
"Then this is all just to add a little spice to your romance?" Now there was a familiar bite in Snape's voice. "Have things become a bit dull already, Potter? Tired of the usual toys? Draco thought I could..."
"I don't know what he thought." The words stung unexpectedly. A minute ago Snape had been calling him Harry and touching him like... well, not like he was a toy. "Maybe he thought you wanted it. He -- he knew I did. I do."
Tentatively Harry reached out and brushed his fingers over Snape's cheek. Snape grabbed his hand, crushing it almost to the point of pain. "Why?"
"I don't know," Harry answered truthfully. He peered at Snape's face, blurry without his glasses. "But don't you want it too?"
There was silence for a long moment, though Harry could feel Snape's chest rising and falling as he breathed, still more heavily than usual. Finally he said, in his most irritated voice, "You know I do."
And is that why you've continued to treat me like vermin even though the war is over? Harry wondered. He felt himself smiling a little; it would be just like Snape to be extra nasty to someone he was attracted to. "Then if we both want it, and Draco doesn't mind..." he began.
"Humph," Snape growled. "I assume you'll want to tell him."
"Of course." Then Harry realized what Snape was really asking. "And yes, I will tell him. You don't have to." He stretched, feeling the almost-pleasurable burn in his arse. "He won't be here for awhile anyhow. And we were up rather late last night. I could stand a bit of rest, couldn't you?" Snape only grunted again, but he let Harry curl up against him, and after a moment Harry felt Snape's arm slide over his shoulders.
One minute he was lying contentedly against Snape, not really thinking about much of anything -- if he started to think, he might get hard again, and what Draco might forgive once, he would certainly object to if he arrived and found Harry and Snape both too tired to respond to him. The next minute, it seemed, someone was clearing his throat loudly and choking back a chuckle, waking Harry from a vague, pleasant dream. He felt Snape tense against him at the same moment he lifted his head to see Draco standing at the foot of the bed, smirking broadly.
"I leave you alone for the morning," Draco said in a stern, professorial voice that sounded unnervingly like Snape in lecture mode. "And what do the two of you get up to?" He sniffed. "This room reeks of sex."
Hell. Harry had anticipated telling Draco -- perhaps even this afternoon while they were at Snape's -- but he had not expected to be in quite such an obviously compromised position while so doing. He couldn't even reach his torn shirt from here to cover himself. Not that he was showing anything Draco hadn't seen before, but...
"I, er, misread the time on the invitation," he explained, thinking even as he said it that it sounded the most feeble excuse in the world. "I thought it was for twelve, when it was really two."
"Misread it, hmm?" Draco's smile broadened. "Now there's a likely story."
"Be quiet, Malfoy, and make yourself useful." Snape groaned faintly. "Potter left a bottle of butterbeer somewhere. Why don't you find it, and fetch some more for the rest of us."
"Honestly, Severus, I walk in on you in bed with my boyfriend, and you make me fetch you drinks!" But Draco was laughing as he walked out of the room, returning a moment later with the bottle Harry had left in the parlor and two more for himself and Snape. While he was gone, Snape and Harry exchanged glances, then slid beneath the duvet as if it had been agreed upon that a little modesty might become them. When Draco walked back in, he snickered again. "You didn't even put up any wards. Now don't tell me you've become shy? Next you'll tell me you've turned vanilla on me."
Harry flushed. Draco had an amazing capacity for making him feel more exposed when he was covered up that any person ought to be able to do. He took a swallow of the tepid butterbeer to avoid answering.
"Shove over a bit," said Draco to Harry, and plopped down on the bed. "So, Severus, was Harry able to help you with your broom problem?"
"We never actually did resolve the broom issue," Snape said to Harry, glancing at him and giving him something very like a wink, except that Harry was certain he must have imagined it because Snape didn't wink. "I was thinking about giving my broom to Potter in exchange for his. I'm certain he'll get more enjoyment out of it."
"It's still 'Potter' is it?" Draco sounded disappointed.
"Harry," said Snape grudgingly, no longer looking at him.
"You know what I think?" Draco's tongue pushed his cheek out. "I think you associate that name with sexual fantasies, so you don't dare say it in public."
"And I think that you need a spanking," Snape retorted.
"Probably," Draco agreed while Harry tried not to choke from inhaling his butterbeer. "You'd love to give me one, wouldn't you? Not quite as good as those fantasies of paddling Harry back at Hogwarts, perhaps, but you know my arse turns a lovely shade of pink."
Now Harry really did choke. Snape had fantasized about paddling him? And had told Draco? Draco swatted him on the back. "Something go down wrong, Harry?" he asked in mock sympathy.
Harry shook his head, his eyes streaming. "You really are an imp of perversity," Snape growled.
"I studied with the best." Draco tugged at the tie he had worn to lunch with his father, squirming. "Is it warm in here? Oh, it's probably me; I seem to be overdressed."
Standing, he began to remove his clothes, unconcerned at being watched... quite pleased, actually, at the way both Harry and Snape turned their heads in his direction. Harry couldn't really see -- between his glasses being off and his eyes watering, he was nearly blind -- but he was aware of Draco strutting a bit as he folded his clothes neatly and put them in a pile on the floor. Slowly Draco's previous words began to make sense to Harry. "Snape spanked you?" he demanded.
"When I deserved it," was Draco's offhand reply. "Didn't you, Severus?" He tilted his butterbeer bottle to his lips and finished it, setting the empty bottle on the windowsill. "Do you think I deserve it now? I say maybe Harry does, for starting without me. Quite unfair."
The idea of Snape spanking one of them was making Harry's cock twitch again. He wasn't sure if he would rather be spanked himself or watch Snape do it to Draco. He and Draco had done it to each other a few times, but it was a bit outside what Harry found comfortable, particularly doing it to someone else, and it embarrassed him to be excited by it.
"Severus?" Draco pressed.
"I can't think of a time when you didn't deserve it," Snape replied to Draco, but he was looking at Harry. His cheeks were flushed and there was heat in his eyes as well -- the same intensity as he had shown just before he leaned over and kissed Harry earlier. "What do you think, Harry?"
The sound of his own name in Snape's mouth made Harry's gut clench. He was nervous; he suspected that Snape spanked the way he kissed and fucked, with more passion than caution, and Harry did not want to find himself tearful and humiliated in front of either Snape or Draco. At the same time, he was painfully excited by the idea.
"Well, Harry?" asked Draco with a trace of a taunt in his voice.
Harry gulped. "I suppose... since we started without him, I do deserve it. Sir. But, er..."
Snape raised his eyebrows. "Yes?"
"I need the loo," Harry admitted. It was going to be difficult to piss with his cock so hard, but better now than accidentally while Snape was spanking him.
"Left out the door, next down," said Snape. Harry hurried out.
The bathroom was as spare as everything else in the flat: dingy walls, gray towels, white soap, immaculately clean faucets. Harry studied his reflection in the small mirror by the sink. He wondered whether Snape was getting off on how nervous he was -- of course Draco was, but Harry would have his revenge later. Snape's dislike of him had been real enough, all those years he was at Hogwarts. What if he decided to indulge his anger? Would Draco stop him? What had Harry got himself into?
Washing his hands, he took a moment to splash water on his face, feeling almost surreal. He was going to walk back into that bedroom and willingly put himself in Snape's hands. He should have been terrified rather than excited, yet the sound of his name in Snape's voice kept ringing in his head... and he had the guilty suspicion that Snape would not have fucked him earlier with such a lack of restraint had Draco been there to watch.
What was Draco going to be doing while Harry was being spanked, anyway? Harry knew his partner well enough to be sure that Draco had some scheme in mind, but he had no idea what it might be. He rested his forehead against the wall for a moment, glad for the coolness of it against his skin. He would just have to trust that neither of his erstwhile adversaries intended anything other than what they had indicated.
As he stepped back into Snape's bedroom, he saw that his absence had been put to good use. Snape was lying flat on his back, and Draco was sucking his cock, seemingly unconcerned that it had been in Harry's arse not long before he arrived. Probably he'd used a cleaning spell. He glanced up from his task when Harry sat on the bed and grinned around the shaft, then went back to what he had been doing. For his part, Snape gave Harry a faintly embarrassed look, gesturing at Draco: "He seemed to feel I needed... preparation."
"Did you?" Seeing Snape uncomfortable was something of a comfort to Harry. "You mean you weren't about to burst just thinking about spanking me?"
Draco lifted his head. "I think he was afraid you were going to back out. I tried to tell him what a pervert you've turned into since you've known me." He grinned.
If Harry had tried to protest, Draco would have laughed... and Harry didn't really want to protest. "You could say that," he agreed. "But I suppose that's no surprise to anyone who knows you."
"It was to Severus, evidently," said Draco, sitting up. "Though I can't imagine why. Maybe he believes those Ministry pamphlets about the wonderful Harry Potter." The skeptical noise Snape made in response was interrupted when Draco asked, "How would you like Harry positioned, Severus? Across your lap? Or bent across the bed?"
"Across your lap," Harry answered before Snape could. If he was going to do this, he was determined to be able to feel Snape react as much as Snape could feel him. He watched Snape sit up slowly, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, and strode over before he could lose his nerve. "Make Draco count," he suggested -- he wanted Draco to be doing something, not just watching him.
Snape looked up at him, and again his eyes were bright with something Harry didn't dare try to name. Bending, he sprawled awkwardly over Snape's knees, nudging his cock against a hairy thigh. He felt Snape's hand stroke over his bum once before the hand withdrew, then returned, quick and stinging.
"Count," Snape ordered, and Draco said, "One," as Harry gasped.
"Two. Three. Four..." the count went on at a measured pace. Harry felt Snape's cock pulse against his belly and his own leapt in response. The blows were not as hard as he had feared they might be; a spanking, as Draco had said, nothing like a beating, but hard enough that he could sense his skin reddening.
They had said nothing of how long this was to last... was Snape expecting him to beg it to come to an end? Did he have some fixed number of blows in mind? Harry began to whimper softly as Draco said, "Ten."
"Had enough?" The fingers ghosted over his stinging arse, still not recovered from having been fucked so thoroughly earlier. Harry didn't answer for a moment, uncertain what he was supposed to say. The hand rubbing him slid down to one of his thighs, and Harry felt Snape's prick prod him from underneath.
"Yes, sir," he said, flinching as his voice cracked, but Snape continued to pay very pleasant attention to his thighs and to rub up against him. He wanted that cock in his mouth again. He wondered what it would be like to have Snape and Draco in his mouth at once...would it even be possible? Would he choke? Or would it be as exciting to feel their cocks rubbing together as he thought it might?
He turned his head, looking for Draco, who was now standing a foot or two in front of Snape and watching Harry with a slight smile. When he saw Harry glance over, he stepped closer. "I think a few more might be a good idea, really," Draco said to Snape. "But since Harry wants me to do the counting for him, perhaps he should put his mouth to another use."
"Do you think he can manage to keep his teeth under control?" Snape's voice was doubtful.
Draco knelt down so that he was eye to eye with Harry. "What do you think, Harry? Can you suck me off while Severus gives you another five swats?"
"You must be kidding," Harry objected. His teeth had been clenched throughout the first ten and he didn't believe that it was physically possible to block the impulse to bite down. It was so typical of Draco to try to -- what? Humiliate him? Though really that hadn't been typical for a long time now. But push him, yes. Was this punishment for letting Snape touch him before Draco arrived? Uneasily he slid out of Snape's lap.
"All right, perhaps that would have been a bit much," said Draco smugly. Harry felt the mattress shift as Draco climbed up and turned his head away, but Draco seized his shoulders and rolled him over so that he could not avoid looking into those grey eyes. "Don't be pissy about it."
"What do you want, an apology?" He watched Draco's eyes go round, stung. Snape's hand was running along Harry's spine, soothing. "I didn't think you'd care -- it's not like he and I did anything you and he haven't done before. Or did I break the rules of your game?"
"My game! Got what you wanted, didn't you?"
"Stop it," Snape interrupted, sounding extremely irritable. Glancing over at him, Harry realized that they had abandoned him with a very hard cock to start a row. "As I have already told Mister Potter, I am not here to provide drama for your little romance."
Harry saw Draco take a deep breath and guessed he was probably counting to ten under his breath. "All right, Severus," Draco said finally. "Perhaps this was all a mistake and we should leave."
"Oh, for..." Harry shook his head. He grabbed Draco and kissed him, hard, rubbing against him while sliding a foot back to wrap around Snape's ankle. "Stop being ridiculous. You know you don't want to leave, and neither do I."
"Well, then, perhaps I should leave," grumbled Snape, though Harry could see from the angle of his body that he was watching them intently and making no move to go anywhere. "What is it you're angling for, Malfoy? All this on your terms?"
Draco whimpered softly, thrusting back against Harry. "So far, nothing today's been on my terms. I'm not the one who was lying around blissfully post-whatever I missed. I know you have a thing for Harry..."
"A thing?" Snape and Harry said simultaneously -- Harry in surprise, Snape in disgust.
"I do not have, as you put it, a thing for Harry," Snape continued. Harry could not decide whether to be disappointed by the denial or pleased that Snape had used his first name again.
"Well, what would you call it, then? Because I know damned well that there is something that's not just you fancying a hot young arse," said Draco. "I think I deserve some thanks, actually."
"What kind of thanks did you have in mind?" Snape asked silkily. Harry couldn't help noticing that he had evaded the question.
But Draco flopped onto his back, spreading his knees and letting his stiff cock wave above his belly. "Someone owes me some attention," he insisted. "In fact I think both of you owe me some attention."
At least Draco was predictable, so long as he was getting his way. Harry couldn't help snickering softly. "You take the right side, I'll take the left," he said to Snape and bent over Draco's thigh, licking his way up the inside while Draco groaned and squirmed.
When he reached Draco's cock, slightly ahead of Snape, Harry decided to leave it to the older man. He knew from Draco's story that Snape had sucked Draco off before, but he was certain that it had not happened recently. Instead he ducked down to mouth Draco's tight balls, and with one hand stroked along his perineum and down to his arsehole. After a moment he let his other hand wander up along Snape's thigh, which was conveniently nearby.
Harry could feel Draco writhing and hear him babbling encouragement -- he knew how Draco liked to be touched here, and whatever Snape was doing to his cock, it seemed to have met with Draco's approval as well. What was particularly exciting, however, was the way Snape twisted to press his cock into Harry's hand, reaching with his own hand to stroke Harry's arse, carefully, as if he was afraid he'd hurt him, fucking him and spanking him as he had. Harry wriggled back into the touch, squeezing Snape's cock before beginning to stroke it.
"Fuck yeah," grunted Draco, and Harry smiled as he tongued behind his balls. He shifted over slightly, so that his own cock could press against Draco's leg without taking him away from Snape's questing fingers. Snape was teasing Harry's hole, sinking a fingertip barely inside and then pulling it back out, able to do so easily from the lingering remnants of the broom polish, and Harry wished that he had some lube handy. Instead he spat on his fingers and used that to go knuckle-deep into Draco. With his other thumb he smeared the moisture weeping from the head of Snape's cock along the thick shaft, and was gratified to hear Snape groaning almost as loudly as Draco.
"Do it, give it to me, Harry," Draco was muttering, pushing down on his finger, raising his leg onto Harry's shoulder to give Harry better access. For a moment Harry wanted to whimper, but then Snape slid his hand over Harry's hip and began to mimic the movements of Harry's fingers, stroking up and down his cock. "Fuck, yes, fuck, yes," he heard Draco wail, though he might well have said it himself, as Snape's cock throbbed in his hand and Snape's hand tugged mercilessly at him.
Harry pulled out and spat again, then was able to push in deep enough to feel the nub of Draco's prostate through the clinging heat of his arse, brushing over it repeatedly as Draco cried out now-inarticulate sounds. Snape's fingers twisted over Harry's cock and Harry, too, was groaning, trying to split his attention three ways at once. Just when he thought he couldn't keep it up -- he was either going to end up rubbing Snape raw or prodding Draco painfully -- he felt Draco clench down hard on his fingers and heard him let out a piercing cry.
Snape's fingers caught Harry's wrist and held his hand still, letting him concentrate on swallowing rather than choking. Harry's own hips were still moving, thrusting into the air, trying to bring his cock into contact with the nearest warm body. He had sunk down and was rubbing frantically against Draco when Snape let go of his wrist, but before he could reach to Snape's cock again, he was tugged sideways and suddenly Snape's mouth had closed around him, sucking as he had done earlier, except that this time Snape did not let him go until Harry had come in his mouth. Harry stared down at the dark head as Snape's tongue bathed his cock and balls, licking them clean.
Only then did Snape sit up and bring Harry's hand back to his own prick, wordlessly, his expression almost an entreaty. Draco had recovered and was watching them, looking sated but somewhat overwhelmed. "Get up and return the favor," Harry told him, pushing Snape between them.
"Give me that stuff." Draco fumbled for the little jar, which was lying forgotten where it had fallen on the floor. Climbing around behind Snape, he slicked his fingers and grinned at Harry as he reached down, drawing a soft moan from the older man while Harry began to stroke again, watching his eyes roll back. When he had matched the rhythm that Draco was setting to his own, he wriggled down and pressed his lips against the head of Snape's cock, running his tongue around it and nudging the foreskin away, savoring the salty-tangy-bitter flavor that was like and yet unlike the way Draco tasted.
Snape's hand was in his hair, not controlling how deep Harry took him, just resting there... affectionately, Harry thought, as he tried to relax his throat and take in more. Snape's cock was so thick, however, that he could only manage to squeeze it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth without worrying about getting his teeth in the wrong place, so he sucked while continuing to move his hand up and down on the lower part of the shaft.
"Like that?" he heard Draco ask, followed by a strangled sound from Snape; Draco must have been rubbing his prostate. "Well, go on, Severus. You know you want to say his name."
Harry felt Snape shudder, then his breath was cut off for a moment as Snape's hips bucked, thrusting the cock deeper into his throat. He coughed, tensing, and heard Snape whisper, "Harry." He decided that the moisture on his cheeks was from nearly choking as Snape's semen shot into his throat, and he swallowed hard, lapping up the last drops as Snape pulled away.
Over Snape's hip he could see Draco's head, a bit fuzzily without his glasses, but he could guess at his partner's smug expression. Harry sat up, swiping his hand over his face. Deliberately he leaned across and kissed Draco, then bent down to press his lips to Snape's as well.
Snape held him there, reaching behind himself to pull Draco around, so that all three of them were kissing sloppily. After a minute Draco flopped back again, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb. "You two have turned vanilla on me," he announced.
"Next time, he gets the spanking," Harry told Snape.
"But that would be giving him just what he wants."
Draco snorted a little. "Maybe you're due for a spanking, Severus. There are two of us; I doubt you could stop us if we worked together..."
"Malfoy, one day you will realize that I have skills of which you know nothing," said Snape idly. A moment later Draco was floating upside-down above the bed, yelping.
Harry spread his hands when Draco squawked for help. "Oh, no, this is between you and Severus. I'm not getting in the middle." He realized he had used Snape's first name when the older man turned his head to look at Harry, and blushed.
"Fairness would suggest that it is, in fact, your turn in the middle," said Snape. "Although there's merit in your suggestion that Mister Malfoy should be properly chastised for his disrespectful attitude." With a negligent flick of his fingers, he caused Draco to fall back to the mattress. "I did agree to teach the two of you."
"I thought you were going to teach us kinky uses of the Dark Arts," spluttered Draco petulantly, making Harry laugh, particularly when he saw the look on Snape's face. "And I don't know what you mean by disrespectful! You weren't complaining when my fingers were in your arse!"
"What kind of chastisement did you have in mind?" Harry grinned at Snape, who appeared thoughtful.
"Do you know, I'm having difficulty coming up with anything that Mister Malfoy will interpret as a punishment rather than a reward." Draco grinned widely at this, but Harry knew from the look on Snape's face that he wasn't finished. "He only seems unhappy when everyone's attention is focused on you."
"Then it's a good thing I know you don't want to encourage this Chosen One business," retorted Draco.
He had Snape there. "Mm. Yes," their teacher admitted. "I may have to think about the possibilities for a few days, but I am sure I will find something appropriate in the end. Perhaps I will consult your father -- quite discreetly, I assure you," he added when Draco looked aghast at the notion. The idea of Snape asking Lucius Malfoy how to punish Draco tore Harry between laughter and consternation. Lucius was polite to Harry these days, but it was a politeness born of toleration, not respect, and if Snape let anything slip...!
Draco, however, looked unfazed. "You know, that's an interesting idea, to ask my father," he said. "I have the impression that he may have interesting stories about you that you're never going to tell me."
"And vice versa," agreed Snape in a voice that contained a hint of warning. Was Snape sorry that he had brought Lucius into this? If Lucius thought that he could use Snape to drive a wedge between Draco and Harry, he would not hesitate to do it; he was determined that his son was going to marry a pureblood and father a pureblood child, just as Lucius himself had done.
Studying Snape's expression, Harry wondered whether he dared to think about what sort of stories there might have been, and whether he would ever discover them all.
ch. 1 / ch. 2 / ch. 3 / ch. 4 / ch. 5 / ch. 6 / ch. 7 / ch. 8 / ch. 9 / ch. 10 / ch. 11 / ch. 12 / ch. 13 / ch. 14 / ch. 15 / ch. 16 / ch. 17