Title: Sexplicit
Author: fbowden
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Snape
Rating: NC17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Sexology, sex education.
Other Warnings: Rimming, Chan *16*
Word Count: 2,800
Summary/Description: Harry doesn't do well with books and studying. Practicals are much more his thing.
Author's Notes: I'm thrilled to have been asked back to Daily Deviant after a long hiatus. I hope this offering will whet your collective appetites. Many thanks to my lovely betas, brknhalo241, snarkyscorp, and isisanubis Any remaining mistakes are my own.


***

Every September, just after the start of the new term, the faculty of Hogwarts gathered in the staff room for a very important event. That event was the annual drawing of lots, to determine which one of them would be responsible for teaching sex education. Snape had managed to avoid the much-dreaded class for the last twelve years. But his luck, it seemed, had finally run out at thirteen.

Highly irritated, he stalked out of the staff room and down to the dungeons, leaving his colleagues to their amusement. Snape, not known for his sense of humour, had lost it when Albus smiled wryly and commented, "It will not be so very bad, my boy. I am confident you have much to impart."

Albus knew damn well Snape's sexual conquests were as rare as rocking-horse shit. It hardly helped to have the old coot rub it in, when it was partly his bloody fault in the first place! Serving two masters didn't exactly leave Snape with much spare time. And as for lecturing on heterosexual couplings....Snape snorted. That was doomed to failure, since the closest he'd come to touching a woman was accidentally brushing Poppy Pomfrey's arm at the dinner table.

"Damn you, Albus," Snape muttered, entering his quarters and slamming the door behind him.

Why had he drawn this year, of all years, when Harry bloody Potter would be eligible for the class? Snape snarled, pulling off his robes and flinging them onto a chair. Indulging in uncharacteristic self-pity, he located the Firewhisky and poured himself a generous measure. He sank into his favourite armchair and spelled the fire to life.

Snape drank steadily as he considered his predicament. Even kneeling before the Dark Lord paled into insignificance compared to this. He covered his face with his hands as he realised that Draco would be there too. No doubt he and Potter would indulge in their usual verbal sparring, making disparaging remarks about each other's proclivities. Well, Snape wouldn't stand for it. The lessons would be short, concise and to the point. He would deliver them in a cold and clinical way. Nor would he allow any talk of romance or love. Snape planned to give them the hard facts, and anyone who found the content matter a subject for hilarity would find themselves on the receiving end of a spectacular scolding.

Duly appeased, Snape relegated the dilemma to the back of his mind and turned his attention to the inventory he conducted at the start of every term. The supply cupboard's distinct shortage of red ink cheered him up immensely.

***

"Snape?" Ron cried in disbelief. "What the hell does that greasy git know about sex?"

Hermione, who had been reading out the timetable, stopped long enough to shoot him a disapproving look. "I expect he knows a bit more than you do, Ronald."

Ron turned bright red. "But Snape? Urgh. He'll put us off it for life!"

"Hmm," Harry agreed dreamily.

Ron nudged him. "What's that?"

Startled, Harry gathered his scattered thoughts. "Nothing. I was agreeing with you."

"Too right." Ron nodded. "You'd have to be mental to think Snape giving sex lessons was a good thing."

"Yeah, mental."

Ron rolled his eyes and slid off the sofa to sit next to Hermione, textbooks and parchment spread around her on the floor. "Why's he suddenly gone all weird?" he whispered.

Hermione shrugged, waving her wand over the timetable to highlight various blocks in different colours. "Perhaps he doesn't care, Ron. Not everyone has a major problem with it, you know. It's going to be embarrassing no matter who teaches the class. And I'd much prefer Snape to, say, Professor Flitwick. Or Professor McGonagall."

"Or Hagrid," Harry added.

"Or..."

"Okay, okay," Ron said crossly. "But if Snape starts talking about bat sex, I'm leaving."

Hermione stifled a shocked giggle.

"Do you really think he can do that?" Harry asked. "Have sex as a bat?"

Ron gave him an odd look. "Mate...seriously. I don't even want to know what he does as a human, never mind anything else."

Harry shrugged. "Might be interesting. Better than McGonagall talking about cat sex. Or Flitwick talking about goblin sex. Or Hagrid talking about..."

"If you boys have quite finished," Hermione interrupted sharply, "I think we should make our way down to breakfast. I don't want to be late for Charms."

Ron made a face. "You two go ahead. I think I've lost my appetite."

Harry grinned as he helped Hermione to her feet. "I'm sure you can manage something. You're going to need your strength for when Snape tells us all about his appetite."

Ron looked doubtful. "Perhaps just a couple of sausages then."

Harry snickered. "I wonder if he'll talk about that, too."

"About what?" Ron followed them out of the common room, scratching his head while Harry carried on laughing.

***

But sex was no laughing matter, if Snape's thunderous expression was anything to go by.

Harry watched him pace up and down, fingers steepled beneath his chin as he waited impatiently for the remaining students to file in and take their seats.

"This...class," he began, turning the word over distastefully, "is designed to educate you about human sexual anatomy..."

"That means no bats, right?" Ron whispered to Harry.

"Silence!" Snape roared, his furious glare spearing Ron. "Anyone who finds themselves amused by this lesson is obviously too immature to be in attendance, and as such, will be removed immediately. Is that clear?"

Satisifed by the immediate quiet, Snape cleared his throat. "Very well. As I was saying, this class is designed to educate you about human sexual anatomy, sexual reproduction, sexual intercourse, reproductive health and contraception. Open the textbook in front of you and turn to page three hundred and eighty-four. You will find detailed anatomical diagrams of the male and female body."

Pages rustled as the students hurried to comply.

Behind him, Harry heard Draco Malfoy snigger. "Look at that tiny cock, Blaise. Do you think they modelled it on Potter?"

The tips of Ron's ears turned red, but Harry touched his arm before whispering over his shoulder. "Well you'd know, Malfoy. You look at me often enough in the showers."

Snape turned his head sharply. "Something to share with the class, Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "Only if the class needs to know Malfoy just said the illustration has a tiny penis, and that it must have been based on me. I replied that he should know, since he's always staring at me in the showers after Quidditch."

Snape shifted his gaze. "Is that so, Mr Malfoy? Then perhaps an expert such as yourself might provide us with a detailed description of the penis and its functions."

Everyone in the room turned to stare. Snape raised an eyebrow as he waited, but Malfoy stayed silent, his cheeks stained an ugly pink.

"No? Nothing to add? No intellectual observations on the subject?" Snape's black eyes swivelled back to Harry. "Clearly, Mr Malfoy has not been as observant as you claim, Mr Potter. For your disruptive infraction, you will see me after class."

Malfoy smirked, Ron buried his head in his hands, and Harry was pretty certain Snape caught the ghost of a victorious smile on his lips.

***

Harry stayed in his seat as the rest of the students filed out, chattering loudly and giggling over the rest of the lesson Snape had taught. Ron had clapped him on the back sympathetically before leaving, after which Snape locked the door.

"You simply can't help yourself, can you, Potter?"

Harry watched Snape prowling behind his desk, wearing a path into the floor. "Not where you're concerned, no, sir."

Snape's head shot up, eyes gleaming. "Insolent as ever."

Harry flexed his scarred hand. "I must not tell lies, remember?"

"Indeed, Potter, indeed. Since we're on the subject of telling the truth, would you care to explain why you paid no attention whatsoever to the sexual intercourse part of the lesson?"

"Well, no offence, sir, but it wasn't relevant."

Snape slammed his hands down on the desk. "Not relevant, boy? How so? Think yourself above needing guidance in such matters I suppose?"

Harry shook his head. "No sir. It wasn't relevant, because I'm never likely to have sex with a woman."

Snape shrank back, obviously shocked. "Elaborate," he demanded.

Harry sighed. "I'm gay, sir. So I don't really need to know where a woman's erogenous zones are. And, not trying to be funny or anything, but from what Pansy Parkinson was saying behind me, you aren't all that familiar with them either."

"How dare you!" Snape growled, stalking towards Harry and leaning forward until his scowling face was mere inches from Harry's.

Rather than recoiling, Harry thrilled at the close proximity and slowly leant forward, his eyes fixed on Snape's thin lips. "That's kind of always been my problem, sir," he said softly, the muscles in his neck straining as he tilted his chin up. "I do dare."

Harry pressed his lips to Snape's, tasting hesitation and something like danger. The darkness remained but the caution melted away as Snape opened his mouth and allowed Harry inside. Harry's hands rose to Snape's face, pushing his hair back in handfuls. Snape gripped Harry's shoulders and navigated his way around the desk, pulling Harry up until their bodies met.

"Teach me something useful, sir," Harry begged, each word punctuated with clashing kisses. "Show me what men do together."

Snape was already unbuttoning Harry's shirt. "But you aren't a man, are you, Potter? You're just a boy." His hands slid over Harry's chest, tweaking a nipple.

Harry threw his head back, exposing his neck to Snape's bared teeth. "Then make me a man."

"It'll take more than a cock up your arse to do that," Snape retorted, before descending on the offered flesh with mind-blowing ferocity.

"Oh God," Harry panted, fumbling to find a way inside Snape's robes. Snape renewed his assault on the sensitive patch of skin just above Harry's collarbone, while one hand travelled down to cup him over his trousers.

"This, Potter," he growled, squeezing Harry's cock, "is what is commonly known as an erection." He grabbed Harry's hand and moved it to his own hard length. "Here is another example."

"I think I need a closer look, sir," he gasped.

Snape tutted, but he released Harry's cock and batted away his hand, deftly slipping buttons from their fastenings and unzipping the fly of his trousers. Harry was practically drooling as Snape pulled his prick out and curled his fingers around the long shaft.

"This is the foreskin." Snape thumbed it, then pulled it back to reveal the fat head beneath. "And that is the head. See that slit there, Potter? It feels rather incredible when one's lover teases it with his tongue."

Harry was already falling to his knees. "I think I need some practical experience, sir, if you don't mind?"

Snape's nonchalant reply stuck in his throat as Harry stared up at him with big, green eyes, his ruby red lips parted and glistening, so close to Snape's leaking prick that he could feel the excited huffs of his breath.

"Rule number one: mind your teeth," he hissed, as Harry tentatively poked his tongue out and swiped at a glistening bead of pre-come. Snape backed himself up against the desk, his hands gripping the edges for balance. Harry licked around the head, bringing his fingers up to stroke along the heated flesh. He held it steady and fed it into his mouth, sucking with the enthusiasm of a child with an ice-lolly. Snape groaned loudly, clutching the desk so hard his knuckles turned white.

"Am I doing okay, sir?"

"It is...acceptable," Snape panted in reply, unable to hold back a moan when Harry tongued his slit again.

"What are these, sir?" Harry asked, cupping Snape's balls in his palm.

"Testicles," Snape managed.

"Can I suck them?"

"Dear Gods."

"Is that a yes?"

Harry didn't wait for a reply. He moved Snape's cock aside, still pulling and twisting the furrowed skin, and sucked Snape's balls into his mouth. Snape's eyes rolled into the back of his head as Harry mouthed each one in turn. Finally releasing them, he looked up again.

"What's behind them, sir?"

His finger slid along Snape's crack, gliding over his hole.

"The correct term would be..." Snape trailed off as Harry's finger pressed insistently against it. "Would be..the, ah...anus."

"And can I stick my tongue in that, too?"

"Merlin!" Snape breathed, barely a moment away from shooting his load all over Harry's face. "Potter, enough of this pretence. Stand up, drop your trousers, and bend over this desk, now!"

Harry jumped up and hurried to comply, whilst Snape briefly closed his eyes in attempt to reign himself back in.

When Snape opened his eyes again, the sight that greeted him nearly undid him all over again.

Legs spread, arse raised in the air, Harry lay with his chest flat to the desk, his head craned around to watch Snape's reaction.

Sliding his hands over Harry's arse, Snape used his thumbs to prise Harry's buttocks apart. "The practice of using your tongue to pleasure another..." Snape bent forwards and licked the tiny puckered opening. "...is called rimming."

Harry jerked so violently that Snape had to grab his hips to restrain him. "It is incredibly erotic for some, perhaps not so much for others. Judging by your reaction, however, I believe you fall into the former category."

Harry would have agreed if his mouth hadn't dried out the moment the tip of Snape's hot, wet tongue pierced him. Snape held him steady as he worked Harry open, unmindful of Harry's cock being repeatedly crushed against the table. Harry desperately fought the meteoric rise of his orgasm, but the knowledge that Snape's face was pressed up against his arse, that Snape's tongue was sliding between his walls, coaxing him to open up, was too much. Harry yelled and fell forward, banging his head on the desk as his prick pulsed violently, his balls emptying themselves between the hard wood and his chaffed skin.

"Fuck!" Harry shouted, spasming over and over again and grinding himself against the desk.

Harry's cries fed Snape's desperation. "Potter," he said gruffly, standing up straight and lodging his cock between Harry's soaking wet cleft. "I now intend to give you that cock up the arse we discussed earlier."

Harry's assent was a long groan that grew in volume as the head of Snape's cock breached the ring of muscle with a squelchy pop. Harry's breathing grew ragged. Aware that he was the first to be inside Harry, Snape was deliriously impatient; by sheer force of will he held off and rubbed Harry's back to ease the burn.

"More," Harry gasped, so Snape complied, easing himself in until his balls met slick, trembling skin.

"Fuck."

"Screwing is also an acceptable term," Snape panted, "as is shagging. Or if you prefer, coitus."

"Fuck!"

"As you wish, Potter."

Snape moved, slowly at first, but after a long period of enforced celibacy his cock was in raptures, and Harry's impossibly tight arse ensured a swift and violent orgasm. Snape stepped up the pace, slamming Harry against the desk, and two, three brutal thrusts were as much as he could manage before he exploded.

Snape's elbows hit the desk as he collapsed on top of Harry, their heavy breathing harmonious. Before long, Harry was wriggling beneath the weight, and Snape reluctantly regained his footing, softening cock slipping out of Harry's come-decorated hole.

Harry stumbled, bending down to pull his trousers back up, still caught round his ankles. "Best lesson ever, sir," Harry grinned, buttoning up his rather creased shirt.

Snape had already tucked himself away, and apart from a few wild strands of hair plastered to his flushed cheeks, looked much the same as he had before. "What a pity you are not so easily instructed in the art of potion-making."

Harry smirked. "Reckon I'll have more use for this, anyway." He picked up his bag and headed for the door, turning around just as he reached it.

"Sir? I was just wondering...I've heard the world 'felching' mentioned before, but I have no idea what it means. Would it be possible for you to show me sometime?"

Snape's heart somersaulted in his chest. Who could have predicted the Chosen One would also turn out to be the gay, kinky one? It was almost too good to be true.

"All in good time, Potter, all in good time."

***