|Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven,|
@ 2007-08-08 21:52:00
|Entry tags:||coauthor: cruisedirector, hp fic admittance, hp fic draco/harry, hp fic harry/severus|
HP fic: Admittance, ch. 4: Playing Games [Snape/Harry, Draco/Harry, adult]
Chapter 4, "Playing Games"
Authors: celandineb and cruisedirector
Pairings: Snape/Harry, Draco/Harry
Warnings: infidelity, dirty talk, felching
Summary: Harry wants Snape's broom and goes to get it. Draco makes him pay for being late.
Harry had meant to stop by Snape's for only a few minutes after work -- long enough to see if Snape was serious about trading him that magnificent new Thunderbolt for his own older broom. It seemed odd that Lucius Malfoy should have given Snape such a gift. Not that Lucius couldn't afford it, easily, but he hadn't even bought Draco the latest model racing broom, and Draco would get far more use out of it than Snape.
In fact, when Harry thought about Lucius Malfoy, he was disturbed by how many people the onetime Death Eater seemed still to be manipulating, beginning with his own son. But since Harry was living with Draco and had no desire to change that situation, he supposed that putting up with meddling Malfoys was unavoidable. He wanted to ask Snape about Lucius. Snape had known Draco's father since before Draco was born and would likely have guessed, if not been told, whether Lucius had plans to try to bend Draco to his plans for the future of the Malfoy name and fortune.
Of course, Draco was rather strong-willed himself, but Draco had spent his entire life enjoying the privileges that came with his wealthy pureblood status, even if those had also led him to some very foolish decisions during the wizarding war. Harry had the impression that even Lucius' regrets were sincere, not because Voldemort was pure evil but because he had put his own family at risk. The only thing more important to Lucius than power was the continuation of the Malfoy line, and he had Draco well indoctrinated in his beliefs.
But Snape wasn't a pureblood and Harry found himself feeling an unlikely kinship. Had Severus once considered Lucius a friend, only to find himself denigrated because of his Muggle father? Had there ever been more between them? Draco had made a face when Harry had suggested it, but Harry knew Draco suspected that Lucius and Severus had been lovers once. Curiosity gnawed at him as he knocked on Snape's door, wondering how to broach any topic other than brooms.
There was no immediate response from within, and Harry wondered if Snape was in fact home. Come to think of it, he wasn't entirely certain what Snape did these days. Harry had heard that he had turned down an offer to return to Hogwarts -- probably sensible, that -- and recalled Draco saying something about Snape doing consulting, but Harry didn't know if Snape would do so from his flat or if he had an office somewhere else. Since he was here already, he knocked once again, more loudly, and this time heard muffled sounds when he put his ear to the door. He was surprised nonetheless when it opened unexpectedly, and nearly ended up sprawled across the doorstep.
Instead he found himself clutching at Snape's robes in an attempt to remain more or less upright. Hastily he let go and stood up, flushing.
"Potter, what are you doing here?" Snape demanded with a sort of glee in his eyes, as if he had caught Harry snooping around his neighborhood. "Don't you have better things to do?"
"I, ah, brought this." Harry picked up his broomstick from where he had propped it by the door. "I don't know if you were serious about swapping, but if you were really offering me the chance to fly on a Thunderbolt..." Snape stared at the broomstick and for a moment Harry thought he looked disappointed. "If you were joking, of course I..."
"I don't joke." Reaching out, Snape pulled him inside by the arm.
"This is the broom I bought for myself right after the war ended," Harry explained when they were in the sitting room. "The newest Firebolt. Great flyer, and I've taken good care of it, but a Thunderbolt... Which Broomstick said it was like having lightning between your legs."
He was holding the broom in front of him and Snape's eyes were fixed on it... unless they were fixed about eight inches further back, on Harry himself. Harry couldn't be certain in the dim greenish light that filtered through the curtains. "As I told you, I haven't flown on it myself," replied Snape.
Harry wondered why not. If he were given a broom -- any broom, much less a Thunderbolt -- the first chance he had, he would be out flying, testing it. "Well, if you'd like to give it a try, I didn't mean to just march over here and ask for your gift..."
"I've already explained that it means very little to me. If you have no particular attachment to this one, I would be happy to switch." The phrases were clipped, curt. Maybe Snape was annoyed nonetheless.
Or maybe, Harry suspected suddenly, Snape liked the idea of having Harry's broom just because it was Harry's. He'd never imagined Snape to be sentimental, but then again, he'd never imagined that Snape had fantasized about fucking him, either. "This one isn't quite lightning, but it feels pretty good there," he said, gesturing at his lap. "If you'd like to give it a go..."
Snape took two steps forward and his hand closed around the handle of the broomstick, just above Harry's, barely touching. "Perhaps not just now." His gaze glanced across Harry's face, then slid away, and abruptly he let go and turned his back.
Vaguely disappointed, Harry asked, "Is this a bad time for you? You weren't expecting me and perhaps I've interrupted something."
"No." But the word sounded forced. Harry walked around Snape; not seeing his face made it even more difficult than usual to tell what he meant. Snape's hands were clenched at his sides, pulling his robes taut, and Harry saw why Snape did not want to fly just now -- riding a broom with a hard-on tended to be extremely uncomfortable.
Seeing Snape like that gave Harry a rush like nothing he had ever felt before. It was absurd -- he had faced down Voldemort, argued with two Ministers of Magic, and fought off dozens of threats to his life -- yet the knowledge that he could do this to Snape made a kind of reckless power surge through him. "You don't want to fly... and I didn't come here just to talk about brooms," he said, flushing to hear himself admit that aloud when he hadn't even wanted to think it.
"What did you come here for?" Snape asked. His expression was guarded though Harry was certain he already knew the answer -- he just wanted to make Harry say the words. Instead Harry propped the broom against the wall, closed the distance between them and pulled Snape's face down to his. For a moment he thought that Snape was going to resist, but then Snape's hands closed around his back and his mouth opened.
The kiss was just as demanding as Harry expected, almost desperate, as if Snape thought that Harry might disappear at any moment. He tasted the traces of herbs that he half-recognized from Potions classes, and wondered what Snape had been brewing and why he was testing it on himself. After what might have been several minutes, Snape broke away, staring at Harry, a muscle in his cheek jerking rapidly. "You don't know..."
"Don't know how much you want this? I know how much I do," said Harry, heady with the realization that Snape was nearer losing control than he was, and more willing to concede his own desire if it was going to provoke such a response.
"Does your..." Then Snape apparently thought better of whatever he had been going to ask. "Get in the bedroom before I decide the floor will do." Grinning, Harry obeyed, kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning his shirt on the way. He could hear Snape's clothing rustling behind him and suspected that he was doing the same thing.
The smell of herbs was stronger in the bedroom and somewhat sweet -- was that cinnamon? Or some exotic spice? Harry's mouth watered and he had an urge to lick Snape's skin. When he turned, however, having dropped his trousers in a messy pile at the foot of the bed, he found Snape pointing his wand at him.
Before Harry even had time to register surprise, thin cords shot out of the end of the wand, binding his wrists together and tugging them over his head, pulling him flat onto his back and toward the headboard, which they wrapped around firmly. His cock leapt to full attention as he was bound. From the hungry gaze that swept over him, Harry thought he might be devoured whole, but Snape asked, "You have done this before, I assume?"
Harry nodded, adding, "Once or twice." Which was an understatement, but not much of one. It seemed to suit Snape, because he smirked slightly and then bound Harry's feet in a similar fashion, leaving him spread-eagled on the bed. A quick flick of Snape's wand lit a trio of candles on the top of the wardrobe, and the sweet scent grew stronger.
Harry couldn't keep his eyes off Snape, longing to have that prick inside him again -- mouth, arse, he hardly cared -- but Snape remained standing beside the bed, drumming his fingers thoughtfully on the headboard. "Sir?" he asked, bringing Snape's attention back to his face. The older man put down the armful of clothing he held, folding it quickly but with characteristic precision over the chair where last time, Draco had...
Draco! Harry gave a guilty whimper. It had been one thing to do this thoughtlessly when he had known Draco would be joining them, and even then, Draco had sulked a bit that they had started without him. This, though, was something else -- not sneaking around, exactly, since of course Harry would explain why he was late and would tell Draco everything, but...
Snape climbed onto the bed, straddling his torso, and Harry forgot everything else. The cock he had been daydreaming about every spare moment for days was poised in front of him, inches from his mouth. His lips parted involuntarily.
"Not quite yet, Potter," Snape rumbled, and Harry shivered as callused and potion-stained fingers brushed over his nipples, pinching them to tautness. How Snape knew just what pressure to apply to bring the sensation to the border of exquisite ache but not beyond, Harry had no idea; he only writhed fruitlessly against the bonds as Snape tantalized him. His own cock was straining for contact, but Snape was kneeling just high enough that Harry couldn't press against him no matter how he tried to arch up. Shutting his eyes, he groaned and let his head fall back, but Snape ordered, "No. Look at me."
Harry obeyed, sweeping his attention from Snape's face down to his hard, twitching cock. Following that gaze, Snape took the rigid shaft in his hand and began to stroke it, drawing another needy noise from Harry. He wanted to taste the damp head, wanted Snape to rub it against his nipples and along his chest, wanted it pushing him open or spurting over his cock. Preferably one after the other. "Please," he begged, and dared to add, "Please, Severus."
Snape's stroke faltered and he squeezed the base of his cock, a sound halfway between a sigh and a groan escaping from him. "Silence." Harry bit back the wail that he wanted to make as finally Snape's cock touched his chest, leaving a faint smear of dampness from the leaking head. Snape braced his hands on either side of Harry's head and rotated his hips so that he swept circles across Harry's skin, teasingly coming close to Harry's lips but only near enough that Harry could taste him with flickering laps of his tongue, not so that he could fasten his mouth around that pulsing shaft and suck as he wanted to.
He didn't dare to plead aloud again, nor make more than a muffled whimper. After a few moments, though, to his relief, Snape whispered, "Good," and nudged his cock against Harry's mouth. Eagerly Harry parted his lips, taking in as much as he could. Snape's hand was on the back of his neck, supporting his head. The thick shaft slid back and forth between his lips as Harry tongued the slit, slippery with the fluid dripping from it. He could feel Snape holding the base of his cock steady since Harry had no free hand, guiding it into Harry's mouth.
Snape's knees were pressed close around Harry's ribcage, his slightly cold feet brushing Harry's sides. Tied up as he was, Harry felt claimed -- owned -- marked -- and it astonished him how arousing it was, to find himself so completely in Snape's power and to surrender willingly. And Snape seemed to feel the same way, making soft murmurs of encouragement as Harry sucked at him, trying to get more.
It was hard to remember to breathe, and once he nearly choked, but the hand cradling the back of his head tugged him down, distracting him from the pulsing of the cock under his tongue. He was able to gasp out and then inhale again through his nose, the smell of musky cock heightened by the candles' scent. He half-hoped that Snape would lose control and come in his mouth, even though he also wanted to have his arse filled again and feel Snape pounding against him. His own neglected cock was leaving sticky drops against his belly.
Finally Snape withdrew, shifting down Harry's body and brushing over the rigid erection so that Harry couldn't help crying out. "Wait," Snape warned him in a thick voice, picking up his wand and freeing Harry's feet. "I am going to fuck you, and you are going to wrap your legs around me and beg for more."
"Yes, sir," Harry gasped, tilting his hips to give Snape whatever access he wanted to his arse. Snape pointed the wand at him without saying anything and Harry felt the region behind his balls seem to melt in a very pleasurable way, growing slick and sensitive. The feeling intensified when Snape pressed a finger into him, fucking him slowly with that single digit before adding another and making Harry worry yet again that he might come before Snape actually touched his cock.
It felt too good for him to become overly concerned, though, even when Snape entered him with a third finger. Harry inhaled sharply and Snape waited, looking at him until he nodded before twisting his fingers to stretch Harry further open, making him ready to take that bulky prick. When at last the head of Snape's cock was positioned against him, Harry was panting, his knees pulled up and wide and his ankles high on Snape's back. "Beg me for it," growled Snape.
And Harry did, abandoning any shreds of dignity at the sound of that commanding voice. "Please sir -- fuck me -- fuck me hard!"
Even before the last syllable left his tongue, Snape had begun to shove in, pushing the widest part of the head of his cock past the ring of muscle and into Harry's slippery arse. He locked his ankles behind Snape's back, refusing to let Snape take it out again, and Snape muttered, "Greedy," as he began to rock his hips, pushing a little harder with each thrust.
"Yes," agreed Harry, not caring what Snape thought, just not wanting him to stop. "More, please!" A slight shift, and Snape struck Harry inside in the place that made him gasp and knot his hands into fists within their ties. "That...!"
Snape's eyes were open, boring into Harry's. "There..." he breathed, nodding and thrusting again at the same angle. And again, the pleasure of it spiraling out of any control Harry could have hoped to have. He gave a keening wail. "You want it," Snape rasped.
"I want it," Harry groaned. "So good... need more... need you..."
"Harry," muttered Snape softly, and then he began to chant, "Harry -- Harry -- " as if the name were an incantation. Maybe it was; it worked on Harry like a binding spell, making him pull Snape even closer with his legs and strain up to him and wish his hands were free so that he could dig his fingers into Snape's hair. Or, perhaps, touch himself, but any minute now Snape would surely close his hand around Harry's cock and make him...
Abruptly Snape went rigid, shuddering. He choked out Harry's name once more before his words were lost to the inarticulate sounds emitting from his throat. Harry could feel the cock pulsing deep within his arse.
"Please," he whimpered, unable to wait, "please, Severus..."
Snape's head snapped up from where it had sagged in the aftermath of his orgasm. He stroked a hand along Harry's leg, encouraging him to let go, as he carefully withdrew his cock. When Harry was again spread out before him Snape lowered his head, taking Harry's straining shaft into his mouth. The suddenness of the wet suction on oversensitive nerves was too much; though Harry would have liked to enjoy the feel of Snape sucking him off for longer, he came almost immediately, thrusting shamelessly into Snape's throat.
Snape swallowed, holding Harry in his mouth until he had stopped writhing, then licked Harry's cock and balls clean for longer than was likely necessary. Harry continued to moan, spreading his legs to let Snape settle between them. He felt an arm reach across his leg, returning with wand in hand, and Snape aimed at the headboard, freeing Harry's wrists.
"Come up here," he entreated, reaching down, now that he could, to put his hands in Snape's hair. The dark mane was not so much greasy as simply lank, he decided, twisting some of the overlong strands around his fingers. Snape caught one of his wrists and licked at the palm, sending a shiver up Harry's spine. "Come here," he repeated, and then Snape did, wrapping his arms around Harry's chest.
"You can't stay." It was not dismissal that he heard in Snape's voice, but regret.
"No. I'll be late for dinner as it is," Harry admitted. "I didn't intend..."
Bending his head, Snape kissed him, and again Harry could think of nothing else for the span of the contact, even though the frantic, passionate edge was off. "Didn't you?"
"I suppose I did, but I didn't think of it like that."
"Are you going to tell him why you were late?"
"Of course I am!"
Snape's expression was thoughtful... not quite calculating, but with the sort of cynicism Harry had seen in Draco's eyes when he looked for excuses to avoid his parents. "He won't like it. You might have a quieter evening if you omit the details and simply tell him that you came to get my broom."
"I wouldn't lie to him."
Nodding, Snape slid away, then rose and went to the closet, from which he removed the Thunderbolt. Seeing it again, Harry felt a pang of guilt. "Are you really sure that you want to trade? Not that I don't appreciate the offer," he added hastily. "But since it was a gift to you... I wouldn't want you to regret this if Lucius asked you what happened to it."
"Lucius knew when he gave it to me that I had no use for a broom of this quality," snorted Snape. "I will be very content to fly yours." He paused for a moment. "He has every intention of fitting all our lives to his plans, you know. He won't leave Draco alone until Draco has married a pureblood witch and fathered a Malfoy heir, which means that he must have plans for you as well. And for some ridiculous reason he seems to believe that I can be kept content with gifts like this..."
Snape fell silent, staring at the broom. "I had wondered whether he expected me to give this to Draco," he murmured.
What Harry wondered was what Lucius might be planning for him... because Harry had no intention of leaving Draco, and Draco only laughed at the idea of leaving Harry to get married, despite the lectures from his father and reproachful talks with his mother. "Draco would enjoy flying it," Harry said, "if you'd rather give it to him."
"No, I want you to have it," said Snape firmly. "Let Draco borrow it if you like, but it's yours now."
Harry nodded, realizing that any further debate on the point would be useless. "All right... and thank you." He bent down to retrieve his trousers and slip them on. The rest of his clothes were still strewn between the sitting room and bedroom.
Snape shrugged into his own robes, retrieving his wand. "Don't you want to wash? A spell, at least?"
"No." It wasn't that it would be dishonest, since Harry intended to tell Draco anyway. It was that he wanted to be reminded as long as possible that this had happened... to feel it the whole way home. "But thank you," he said again.
"Stop thanking me." Snape frowned. "As you know, I was a willing participant."
"I know," said Harry, walking out the bedroom door. "I..." he broke off to pull on his shirt, carefully aligning the buttons to their holes and beginning to do them up. "I'd like to keep doing this. With you."
"No. Well, maybe. But not lying about it." Harry took a deep breath. "What do you think?"
"I think that you need to think about what you're doing." Snape's voice held a warning.
"I'm not doing anything that Draco didn't put in my head in the first place!" Harry's voice was louder than he had intended. "Sorry. I'm... I don't know. Not confused, because I know I want to do this again. But I don't know what he wants." He stopped, looking around for his shoes. "And, really, I don't know what you want -- why you're doing this."
"Does it really matter what I want?" came the dry response.
"Yes," said Harry vehemently. "If you don't want to do this again, then there's no point, is there?"
"I'd not be averse to seeing you, with or without Draco," Snape said. "But that decision you will have to work out with him." He shook his head. "I offered to be your teacher again. My reasons are my own, but I've no intention of becoming a bone of contention between you."
Draco, thought Harry somewhat petulantly, had already had his turn with Snape, before Harry had ever considered that he might be attracted to either of them. The bones of contention between them were likely to be more complicated things... like the fact that Draco seemed to believe it would ultimately be possible both to please his parents and to stay with Harry, which Harry knew was never going to work. Not unless Lucius and Narcissa changed in ways he couldn't even imagine.
"I want this," he replied to Snape. "Draco wants it too. I don't know if he really thought it out... he thought it would be fun, that's all." Even as he spoke, Harry wondered whether it had ever been that simple. Had Draco suspected Harry had urges that needed addressing before they became a problem?
Snape sniffed. "Mr. Malfoy is perhaps fonder than he should be of physical pleasure without considering its consequences. I hope it is not an attitude that you will adopt." The statement struck Harry like a slap in the face. Did Snape see both Draco and Harry as childish, playing around thoughtlessly? But even the reprimand, spoken in that voice, gave him an illicit thrill.
He summoned up his determination and said, "Then you'll just have to teach us both better, won't you?" He thought he saw a gleam of satisfaction in Snape's eye at that remark.
"Go, then, before you cause any further trouble." Snape looked down and frowned; he had missed one of the numerous buttons on his robes and was going to have to unfasten and redo many of them. "Why don't you send me an owl and let me know if the broom feels like lightning between your legs?"
Now Snape was smirking, looking rather pleased with himself. Harry knew that he would remember the statement every single time he mounted the Thunderbolt, and that Snape had intended exactly that. "Thanks. I will. Have fun with mine... it's always felt pretty good between my legs, at least."
Slipping through the alleys after they had said goodbye -- there had been no kissing, mostly because Harry was afraid everything would start all over again if there were -- he thought about what to say to Draco. He could, of course, say that he had gone to Snape's to exchange brooms and things had got out of hand, feigning surprise if Draco objected and claiming he never thought Draco would mind after what the three of them had already done. He was appallingly late, though, and Draco was bound to be in a mood. Perhaps the thing to do was to bring a peace offering, a bottle or two of wine, and soothe the inevitable ruffled feathers before he made Draco's hackles rise once more.
Thus he arrived home, armed with wine, chocolate, and the new Stubby Boardman solo recording, only to find Draco flopped across their bed reading an article on Muggle environmental hazards and what the wizarding world could do about them. "I got tired of waiting, so I got takeaway. Yours is under a keep-warm spell on the table."
"Oh. Thanks," said Harry, holding out the music, which Draco glanced at, then tossed on the pillow beside him. "Sorry. I, ah..."
"You what?" Draco turned a page. "Thought you'd try to bribe me with presents so I'd forgive you for being nearly three hours late?" His voice didn't rise at all, and he didn't look at Harry.
"I got a new broom," Harry offered weakly.
"I didn't realize that Quality Quidditch Supplies was hiring dyslexic doxies to work their till, which the length of time it took you to make that purchase would suggest." Draco sniffed the air in Harry's direction. "Nor was I aware that they're burning incense in the shop these days. You reek."
"I didn't go to Quality Quidditch Supplies." Harry blushed furiously. He had known this wouldn't be as easy as pouring Draco a glass of wine and apologizing, but he'd expected... well, that Draco would yell at him and then he could quarrel back. "Snape told me he'd let me have his new broom, remember?"
"Oh, were you at Snape's?" Draco gave Harry a wide-eyed smile of feigned surprise. "How is Severus? Very altruistic of him to offer you his broom. Maybe your Gryffindor generosity is rubbing off on him. What do you think?" The smile was still twisting Draco's face but there was nothing sweet about it.
Harry's heart began to pound. It was really fucking unfair, he thought, that that dangerous glint in Draco's eye made him more sexy than usual. This was not the time for his libido to take notice. He gazed at Draco, dry-mouthed, unable to answer.
"I think you are rubbing off on him," Draco said after a pause. "But he hasn't returned the favor -- didn't teach you that the stupidest thing to do after cheating is to come home with little gifts. Not very cunning, Harry. I'm disappointed."
Taking a deep breath, Harry replied, "Actually, he suggested that maybe I should lie about where I'd been. Is that what a Slytherin would do?" Draco's expression darkened. "If you'd been with someone else, would you..."
"I'm not the one who was at Snape's." Shoving aside his magazine, Draco sat up. "Since we've been together, I've never touched Snape except when you were in the room."
"Is that why you invited him for dessert, then -- missed the opportunity?" His voice was rising, which Harry knew wasn't helping matters. "First of all, I was not cheating. I had every intention of telling you where I was and what we did. And second, I never thought about touching Snape until you suggested it."
"Sure you didn't," said Draco sarcastically. "That's why you came when I imitated his voice. Because you never thought about him."
"You were fucking me at the time!" Harry protested. "And it was your idea to ask him over! Even if I had some kinky fantasy, it was just that. I wouldn't have done anything to make it real without you pushing me."
Draco's face was set. "So this is my fault?"
"Why does it have to be anyone's fault? Can't we just say, it happened -- I shouldn't have let it without talking to you beforehand -- and it won't happen that way again?"
Draco studied him. "Suppose I say fine," he said. "Suppose I say, I'm happy you had a nice time. Suppose I say that in fact I've been missing Snape and I'd like to go spend an evening with him myself. Would you say, oh, all right then?"
Harry had to admit to himself that he wasn't at all happy about that idea, but... "I'd accept it. Fair's fair."
"You're such a Gryffindor sometimes," Draco shook his head. "'Fair's fair,' my arse." But his face had relaxed, just a little bit, to Harry's relief. "And what if it was someone else, not Snape?"
"Do you have someone in mind?" countered Harry.
"Think hypothetically, Potter. I'd rather not have to have this conversation more than once."
Draco only called him Potter when he wanted to make him feel younger, stupider... distant. "You know as well as I do that there's a difference between meeting some stranger you decide you want to fuck and someone you have history with," he snapped.
"Is that supposed to make this better, because you have 'history' with Snape? Doesn't that just make it more complicated? What did you think was going to happen when you went over there to talk about brooms... why do you think he offered his to you?"
"Because he has no use for it," retorted Harry. "Why else would he offer to trade? It's not as if I couldn't buy myself a Thunderbolt if I really wanted one." Harry's annoyance was aggravated by the fact that he suspected Draco was right. Let me know if the broom feels like lightning between your legs.
"Exactly. You could have bought yourself a Thunderbolt -- for that matter, I'm sure one of your admirers would have presented you with one if you gave the slightest hint. Or my father will probably give me one for Christmas and you know I'd have let you fly it. You didn't go over there just to get Snape's broom!"
"Fine." Harry threw up his hands. "After you maneuvered me into bed with him, twice, first inviting him over here and then insisting that we accept his transparent invitation to further sex, I snuck around behind your back to have a sordid secret affair with him and then came home with silly gifts in the hope of hiding it all from you! Is that what you think?"
Draco stared at him, and then, to Harry's surprise, he giggled, flopped back onto the bed and laughed until he was gasping for breath. "No, Harry, when you put it like that... no." He rolled over. "But that doesn't mean I'm quite ready to forgive you yet."
"It doesn't?" said Harry warily.
"No. You were naughty... and you ought to be punished for it, don't you think?" Now Draco's smirk was pure lust.
Harry grinned back, though a part of him was still remembering Draco asking whether he could suck him off and take a spanking at the same time -- the sense of being pushed too far, even humiliated, just for the sake of it. "What did you have in mind?" he asked somewhat guardedly.
"Well, first you'd better tell me everything you and Snape did, and how it felt. If you've already been tied up and paddled and wanked over, I wouldn't want to bore you by repeating it." Harry felt his cheeks turning red. He expected that Draco would realize he'd been tied up as soon as he saw Harry's wrists, which were still a bit chafed, but to describe how that felt... and he would have loved it if Snape had finished wanking on him while he couldn't have done anything but lie there and let it spurt over him.
"He did tie me up," Harry admitted, unbuttoning his cuffs to push up his shirt sleeves and show Draco the marks. "Without asking first... although he asked after, to make sure I was all right with it. Then he wanked for a bit, not touching me, making me watch. And then..."
"But how did it make you feel?" demanded Draco, interrupting, his eyes gleaming.
"Excited." Harry flushed an even deeper shade of scarlet. "I thought I might come without even being touched, and I was begging him to fuck me."
"You turn into quite a bottom for him, don't you." It wasn't a question, and Harry knew that it was true: after so many years of resentfully taking orders from Snape, hating that he had to do it, something in him enjoyed doing it willingly and got off on how much that excited Snape. He nodded, and Draco said, "Is it because he's older... or is it the voice?"
Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Draco barked, "Get your trousers off and show me that filthy cock of yours, Potter," in an uncanny imitation of Snape. Harry had hastened to obey before he realized that Draco was grinning widely. "Ooh, you really do. And then you expect a reward for pleasing the teacher. Well, go on -- take off the rest." For the second time that evening, Harry fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, trying to undo them while simultaneously kicking off his shoes.
Draco eyed him. "When I said you had a filthy cock, I was right. Were you in such a hurry to get home that you couldn't be bothered to clean up? Ten points for slovenliness," he snapped, again in Snape's voice, and Harry quivered -- but he saw the bulge at Draco's groin and knew that the idea of Harry with Snape was turning Draco on as well. "Did he spank you, or were you too good a boy for him?" Draco got up and came to stand behind Harry, close enough that Harry could feel the hairs on his neck rising as Draco whispered. "Did you want him to?"
"He didn't spank me." Harry's whimper sounded alarmingly regretful as he tried to push back against Draco. "He tied me to the bed and made me suck him..." Let me suck him, he amended silently, remembering how badly he had wanted that cock in his mouth. "Then he fucked me."
"After he made you beg," guessed Draco, pushing his clothed cock against Harry's naked bum. Unbidden an image came to Harry of Snape kneeling over him, staring down in triumph; he groaned, cock throbbing as Draco's hand came around to squeeze it. "I knew it. Next time he'll have you begging him to spank you."
"Maybe," Harry temporized.
"If you don't, I will," Draco assured him, tickling his balls. "I want to see him do it." He bit at Harry's neck and rubbed up against him. "Won't you like that? Don't you wish he were here now?"
Harry nodded, a little bit chagrined that Draco could read him so well. "Aren't you going to take your trousers off?" he asked.
"Now, why would I want to do that?" There was laughter in Draco's voice as his fingers traveled behind Harry's balls, probing. "You're still wet. You came home dripping. You love having his come smeared on you."
"And you love the idea of fucking me when I'm filthy from him, so stop complaining." Pushing his hips back again, Harry could feel how right he was. Draco was practically bursting out of his clothes.
With his free hand, Draco began to unfasten the trousers as he said, "Not just yet. Bend over the bed." Harry wondered just what Draco had in mind as he leaned forward and braced himself on his folded arms, his arse high in the air. It could be a spanking... he moaned, waiting impatiently.
What Draco did first was to nudge Harry's legs further apart, running his hands down from thigh to ankle. He could feel Draco's warm breath on his bum. "You reek, Potter," Draco whispered, and flicked out his tongue to taste. "You really are filthy. You need to be cleaned up." With another groan, Harry nodded agreement. Draco was licking shamelessly, devouring the mess Snape had left inside Harry. "Filthy," Draco groaned like it was praise. "And he had to let you come home to me."
A moment later he felt the head of Draco's cock against his arsehole, barely nudging him open, without any preamble whatsoever. Harry cried out and shuddered. "Fuck!" as eager hands grabbed his hips, fingernails digging into the tender skin of his thighs. "Oh, fuck -- yes -- "
Even though Harry was still slick from Snape's ministrations, the first thrust stung. "You're mine," Draco panted over Harry's strangled moan. "Severus had better realize that..." He snapped his fingers. "Accio lube." As Harry felt Draco's slick cock push into his arse, soothing the stretched entrance, he imagined Draco and Snape facing off, quarreling over him, each trying to claim him; imagined two cocks coming in his mouth, and something in him reared up and said, Yes, that. I want that.
"You love it, don't you?" panted Draco. "You love being owned..."
"And you love that I love it," choked Harry -- Draco was really pounding him. "Snape training me well enough for you?"
"Yeah," Draco gasped, reaching around and grabbing Harry's cock, fisting it hard in counter-rhythm to his thrusts. "Rather he trained you with me though."
A kaleidoscope of images flashed through Harry's mind: Draco up against a wall, his arse reddened; himself kneeling before Snape, come dripping down his chest; their teacher naked, erect, with both of them at attention before him. "Yeah," he agreed, and wailed as Draco's grip tightened.
"Come on," Draco urged. "Come for me like you'd come for him." And with another cry, Harry was over the edge for the second time that evening, body thrashing as he spurted over Draco's hand. "Yeah..." Draco grunted, still gripping Harry's hip. "Just... like..." His voice dissolved with a wail as he slammed in deep.
Harry winced as Draco withdrew; neither Draco nor Snape had been gentle, which was as he had wanted, but now he hurt. Draco fell to the bed by his side, and Harry rolled over so that he could see him. "I don't love him like I love you," he said quietly.
Draco only stared at him for a few seconds, long enough that Harry began to worry. "I never thought about whether you did." Fuck. That had been the wrong thing to say -- he shouldn't have mentioned Snape at all, he should have told Draco how great it was and left it at that. "Tell me something. How many people have you shagged purely because you felt like shagging them -- no relationship, just plain sex?"
Before they'd been together, Harry knew that Draco had amassed something of a history -- women as well as men, with no expectation of any sort of relationship attached. For Harry... well, there had been Ginny, and a rather foolish drunken incident with Neville that they both pretended had never happened but which had confirmed for Harry that he was capable of feeling more excitement over boys than girls, and a very discreet romance with the Auror assigned to guard him after some death threats that came to nothing... and Draco. "You already know the answer to that," he replied irritably, shifting to try to find a more comfortable position. "I'm not exactly unrecognizable. I didn't really want to read about my sexual escapades in The Daily Prophet."
"That's why you think that sex is an equivalent to love, or at least invariably connected to it. But it's not. Sex is for fun. There's nothing wrong with having fun with someone without falling in love with them."
"Then why does it bother you that I was shagging Snape earlier?" Harry demanded. "Because it's obvious that you're not happy about that."
"Now that is a mere question of courtesy. You were hours late, without leaving me a message of any kind, and then you came home with gifts as if I were some sort of imbecile who couldn't figure out what was going on," said Draco. "Of course I was annoyed."
"You're saying that if I'd told you I was planning to go there, you wouldn't have minded?"
"If you'd told me you were planning to go there, I could have crashed the party, or arranged my own evening's entertainment..." Draco stopped and grinned as Harry pulled himself upright to object, then flinched as his arse protested. "See? You don't much like that idea at all. 'Fair's fair.'"
Harry wasn't sure which bothered him more, the suggestion or the taunt in Draco's voice as he parroted Harry's own words back to him. "I can't win here. If I say it was just fucking, you get to suggest that you should be allowed to have nights off whenever you want..."
"I never said that," Draco interrupted.
"...and if I say it wasn't just fucking, then you think I have some kind of, I don't know, romantic attachment! To Snape!"
"Actually, I think you bloody want everything both ways." Unexpectedly, Draco was grinning. "Now lie down so I can fix your arse, unless you're enjoying being in pain."
Harry grumbled but lay on his stomach, which growled, reminding him that he'd never had any dinner. When Draco had finished the healing spell, Harry asked, "What kind of takeaway did you get, anyhow?"
"Indian." Draco prodded him in the arse. "Come on, you need a shower... then we can eat in bed."
"I thought you'd had yours?" The thought of a shower with Draco was appealing, and Harry rose with alacrity.
"Not much. First I kept thinking you'd be home at any moment, then I was angry, and then I was worried that something had happened to you."
"Sorry." Now that he had calmed down, Harry was both remorseful and embarrassed. It had been foolish not to send Draco a message that he was going to be late. "I knew you'd be angry. I guess I knew I deserved it."
"Yet again you prove that you could never have been a Slytherin, whatever that stupid hat told you." Pulling him closer, Draco kissed him, then released him to aim a cleaning spell at the bedcovers. "How did you leave things with Snape?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, does he want you back? ...stupid question. Does he expect you back? With or without me?"
Taking Draco's hand, Harry tugged him toward the bathroom. "I think he's hoping, with."
"Good." Draco twined his fingers between Harry's. "I'd be very disappointed if my old Head of House didn't want to see me again, after he promised he'd take us both on for extra lessons."
"Mm. Want me to wash your back?" Harry offered, turning on the water and waiting for it to warm up.
"You can tell me what you're hoping to learn from Snape while you're doing that," said Draco. He stepped under the hot spray and handed Harry the soap.
"I don't know, really." Soaping his hands, Harry was glad that it was Draco's back that he was washing so he didn't have to see the smirk he knew Draco was wearing. "Like you said. I don't have a lot of experience with sex for its own sake. Wouldn't want to miss out on something, or let you get bored and start looking around."
"I am not looking around." Draco turned beneath Harry's hands, which left a trail of soap across his side. "I did plenty of that before we got together. And I'm not bored. You seem to enjoy it as much as I do whenever I suggest that we do something..."
"Creative." Grabbing the soap from him, Draco got to his knees and began to wash Harry's thighs, which were slightly itchy. "Sometimes I get the feeling that you expect this all to be temporary."
"Maybe I do," Harry admitted. He stepped his feet further apart and leaned back against the tiled wall.
"Why -- because we can't actually make things official since we're both men?" Draco frowned. "Do you think that means I'd just leave you if I did get bored?"
"Not because you're a bloke. Because you are who you are," said Harry simply. "You're a Malfoy. I know the kind of pressure your father has been putting on you."
Draco stared up at him, water streaming down the sides of his face, his expression growing pinched and unhappy. "The last time I tried to do what I thought my father wanted, I got this," he said, twisting his arm upward as he rested his hand against Harry's hip. The Dark Mark was nearly invisible now, but Harry could still see the faint red outline of the skull -- something Draco would have to live with forever, as would Draco's father and Snape. "I remind my father of that whenever he starts in about the Malfoy bloodline. You know what I think? He's sorry he let his family bully him around as much as he did. Not that he's sorry to have the house and the titles -- or my mother -- but that pureblood obsession almost got us all killed so the son of a Muggle could try to take over the world."
"You're still thinking in terms of purebloods and Muggles," Harry pointed out. "My mother was Muggle-born -- do you think your father doesn't remember that every time he looks at me? You're not just failing to carry on the family line, you're consorting with the son of a Mudblood. Even if I did keep that maniac from killing you, Lucius is bound to do something to try to split us up. Snape mentioned it too. He didn't buy that Thunderbolt, your father gave it to him, and Snape was wondering if perhaps he expected him to give it to you... although I can't quite see how that would aid Lucius' cause." Harry frowned.
With a final swipe of his fingers across Harry's thighs, Draco stood, waving his hand dismissively. "Snape sees conspiracies where there aren't any. Why would my father expect Snape to give me his broom when Snape knows my father could have bought me one? Which I have been meaning to ask him to do." Harry couldn't help rolling his eyes; no matter how independent Draco might declare himself to be, he was very attached to Malfoy money and Malfoy influence, and Lucius knew it, and used it. "It would make more sense if he thought Snape would give the broom to you. Because I think my father's still not sure you'll accept gifts from him."
"That's because they always come with a hidden price," Harry observed. "You're right: it would make more sense if he thought Snape would give the broom to me. And it would also make sense if he assumed Snape wouldn't give it to me for nothing in return. If your father thought he could break you and me up by getting me in bed with Snape, I expect he'd think it was a brilliant plan." Maybe that was why Snape had been warning Harry to think about what he was doing. "Except your father must know Snape would be smart enough to figure that out. And he'd have to have guessed that I'd go for it, which is really a stretch -- so far as your father knows, I've never liked Snape."
"Well, as for that." Draco looked sheepish. "I might have told him once that I thought you were a little hot for Snape."
"It was mostly a joke! He's always asking me whether I've seen Severus, and I told him not very often because Severus wasn't your favorite person, though I thought you objected to him a bit too much for there not to be something you were repressing. My father found that very amusing. I didn't really make anything of it. I mean... you used to hate me almost as much as you hated Snape!"
"Actually I hated you more," groaned Harry. "Draco, you git!"
"It isn't like I was actually worried that my father could use Snape to break us up," Draco protested. "My father has a pretty high opinion of his own cleverness and not a very high one of anyone else's, but he knows Snape isn't an idiot." A calculating gleam flashed in his eyes. "Though if that is what my father was hoping, maybe it's for the best. We could pretend that it's working."
Harry stared in disbelief. "What, you could pretend that we're breaking up over Snape?"
"No, just pretend that we're fighting a lot -- like things aren't going well between us. Then Father would leave me alone for awhile." Draco raked Harry with a calculating glance. "If we're not sure whether Severus is helping my father or not, we'll have to be sure to mislead him, too."
"Couldn't we just ask Snape if your father suggested anything to him? It would be so much easier."
"But it would also give the game away," Draco sighed impatiently. "A roundabout approach is the only possibility. While distracting him with your arse."
Harry sighed. "I don't want to play this game," he said. "Look, I'm sorry if your father won't leave you alone, but I don't see how pretending we're fighting is going to help -- he'll just assume his plan is working and double his efforts. And if Snape is working with him, I don't want any part of it." He had thought that Snape felt something for him... at the very least, fancying his arse, if not anything more. The idea that Snape might be helping Lucius Malfoy to break up himself and Draco made him feel used... dirty, for the first time, despite how filthy Draco had told him that he was when he came home, and despite the fact that he was standing clean in the shower. "Besides, if your father actually knew about me and Snape, he'd skip the subtleties and move directly to blackmail."
Draco started to laugh, then got water in his mouth and ended up coughing. Deciding that they were clean enough, Harry turned off the faucets and reached out for a towel. Draco was choking, still amused. "You do realize my father would consider that a compliment? Fear is power, right?"
"I'm not afraid of him!" scoffed Harry. "And neither is Snape. And neither are you." But he wondered how much of that was really true. Harry did believe that Lucius had both the desire and the wherewithal to come between him and Draco; he was biding his time for now, playing the loving father, but sooner or later he make a more aggressive move. The broom suddenly seemed malevolent. Let me know if it feels like lightning between your legs. But lightning could kill. "Do you really think Snape could be working with your father just to get you to do what the Malfoys want?"
Draco looked thoughtful, rubbing his arms with the towel. "I'm pretty sure that Severus and my father once... you know." It amused Harry that Draco wouldn't come right out and say that his father and Snape had probably had sex. "But Severus is not someone who's going to do anything my father wants just because he's Lucius Malfoy. There would have to be a reason for it."
Shivering softly, Harry wrapped his towel around himself. "And you don't think your arse would be enough of a reason?"
"Nah. Severus had that before. I'm sure my father knows... probably decided that it was all right because Severus wouldn't expect to keep me." He paused with the towel halfway to his waist, looking at Harry. "Your arse might be enough of a reason."
"I don't know." Grabbing the end of the towel, Harry began to dry his face vigorously, hoping that would give him a reason for turning pink.
"Don't sulk. Maybe Severus just wants your arse, and everything else is just a coincidence." Tossing the towels aside, Draco put an arm around Harry's waist and drew him over to their bed. "Just a minute, let me get the food." Harry heard him thumping around in the kitchen before he brought plates back. "The only way to find out the truth is to bring up the subject discreetly. I'll do it."
"As discreetly as you invited Severus over for dessert?" Harry took a plate, though he was no longer very hungry. "If you really think he's in league with your father to break us up, then I am going to talk to him." No, he decided -- he hadn't misjudged Snape. Snape might pretend to be going along with Lucius, but he had his own agenda. He always did.
Draco's expression was sour. "Planning to go over there after work and come home hours late again?"
"I thought I'd ask him over here, actually," said Harry. "Friday night, for dinner. You didn't have any plans, did you?" He took a forkful of saag paneer and chewed.
"Blaise was talking about going to some new club, but..." Draco shrugged. "This is more important. I don't like it when my father tries to play games with my life."
"Well, then, maybe we should have Lucius over for dinner some night as well." Draco stared at him as if he might be daft, fork lifted halfway to his mouth. "If you intend to have a relationship with me and also one with your parents, you can't not have them in your home. Maybe if he sees how we live, your father will realize that you're happy and you know what you're doing with your life. I don't see what's going to make him change, otherwise."
"If you say so." Draco sounded extremely dubious, but Harry felt better. "He might come over here and then present me with a list of the ways he thinks you're bad for me."
"How is that worse than what he's doing now? I'd rather make him put his cards on the table and deal with it openly." Harry scooped up a last bite of rice and leaned over to set his plate on the bedside table, stacking Draco's on top. "You say you don't intend to leave me -- so tell your father that. And tell him to shove it up his arse if he doesn't like it."
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