Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: smallbrownfrog
From:   lokifan

Title: Gaze
Characters/Pairings: Severus/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Included: cheap prostitution & desperate rent boy
Other Warnings/Content: dubious consent, nipple clamps, slight AU (Severus lives)
Word Count: ~4400
Summary/Description: Draco knows he shouldn’t say yes, but he can’t afford not to.
Author's Notes: Thank you T for the beta. Deepest thanks and apologies to the mods.


Severus caught sight of him huddled under a lamp post further down Knockturn Alley. He was tucked up against the light, as if it would protect him. For a moment it was only the pose, the tight Muggle jeans that would only be provoking for the sort of purebloods who lurked down here, the pout visible under a sheaf of dark hair: rentboy, Severus’ mind supplied, and he almost turned away.

Then the decades he’d spent living under siege, the years of observing and watching and secreting each detail away in case it might be the one to one day save his life -- it all kicked in, and his eyes flickered back. The boy raised his chin, leaning against the lamp post to deliberately expose the pale line of his throat to a passing possibility. The way he moved, making the lift of his chin look arrogant and not flirtatious, plucked at Severus’ memory.

Severus looked more carefully at the pointed nose and chin, and yes. Unmistakable. He could hide that hair all he wanted; the stamp of Lucius’ features was still there in his face.

Foolish child. If he thought casting a glamour to darken his hair would be enough, as if Knockturn wasn’t home to all sorts of people who’d love to take Narcissa’s betrayal out on his hide. Sordid types who’d take him and sell him to someone yearning for revenge on Lucius.

Perhaps he was still arrogant enough to believe he’d be all right somehow. Having grown up coddled, protected from consequences, had made him weak-minded. Severus flexed his fingers as he watched the boy murmur to his potential john, drawing the other wizard closer. It had taken Severus years to stop clenching his fists like a Muggle when he was angry. Now he didn’t move remotely like his father had. He flexed his fingers, imagining what he could do with them.

Wands were all very well, but they weren’t nearly delicate enough for this kind of work.

Severus considered nudging the john off with a whisper of dark magic. He was currently leaning in close to the boy -- ducking his head, as if the boy weren’t taller, hadn’t inherited every inch of Lucius’ height, damn him. Worse, he had Lucius’ strength of personality, his trick of always seeming the tallest wizard in the room whether he was or not.

Severus strode out of his own shadows.

The other denizens of Knockturn Alley despised Severus more than anyone else; no one was hated like a traitor. But he had taught them, slow and exacting as he always was when he taught something important: do not try me.

Now they didn’t.

The other wizard looked up as Severus came towards them. His eyes sharpened in recognition and the boy looked over, following his gaze.

In the back of his mind Severus noted the other wizard scuttling away. He was mostly taken up by the grey eyes that were blurred with shock, the instinctive step backwards that knocked into the lamppost, the flush of shame. The shock of being caught out of bed after-hours changing into a deeper fear.

“Hello,” he said, and waited. He was curious to see what the boy would fill the silence with.

Blond lashes blinked over those pale, shocked eyes; a tongue wetted the curve of his mouth. “Hello, sir.”

“Do you call all of your… clients,” he said with ill-hidden relish, watching the wince, “sir? Or is it just for me?”

The boy’s shoulders knocked against the lamppost: a poorly hidden flinch. Severus allowed himself a smile. Perhaps he hadn’t realised what Severus wanted from him. That Severus had no intention of rescuing him.

Severus had done it again and again - dragging him out of foolish scrapes, standing between him and danger, splitting his own soul to protect the boy from his own foolishness. All the stupid child had ever done was fight Severus’ attempts.

Now he was going to take his payment.

“I…”

“I imagine you still lack a good-quality wand?”

“I never got my old one back… and Ollivander won’t -- ”

“Stop whining,” Severus said, and the boy’s mouth snapped shut. Gratifying, that instant obedience. Severus wondered how far he could push it. “I simply wished to know if you could reliably perform your own magic.”

“No,” the boy said, a huff of breath more than a word; his eyes flickered downwards. Severus rather enjoyed the shame emanating from him like body heat.

“Then I’ll Side-Along you to my home.”

“Wait.” There was panic in his voice; he’d never mastered Narcissa’s well-bred emotional control. “I haven’t - I - how much?”

“Ten Galleons.” Severus was a little amazed to find himself doing this, naming a price in Knockturn Alley. But once he saw the opportunity - that wizards and witches were able to take the little Malfoy home for money - how could he resist?”

“No,” the boy said, setting his chin mulishly.

They batted numbers back and forth, offer and counter-offer. Severus hadn’t the faintest idea what an appropriate amount was, but he read answers in body language and tone. The boy’s mind was locked up tight behind old walls, Bellatrix’s training still defending him from Severus’ eyes; but his body spoke, and he was too desperate to negotiate well.

Without his old defences - his parents, his wealth, his family name, magic worth a damn - he couldn’t afford to say no. Even that upper-class charm deserted him as his confidence cracked.

It was easy to win, to grind him down to a pitiful number. Severus took hold of his arm and Apparated them both.

The boy looked rattled as they appeared in a narrow alley, attempting to step back. Severus kept hold of his arm. An infinitesimal pause and then he curled his body close, seductive. He pressed against Severus, obviously scrabbling for the right reactions, too late.

Severus snorted impatience with his poor attempt at dissembling and pulled away. He led the other wizard in a deliberately circuitous, confusing route - tight corners and winding alleys and smoke-blackened brick - until they reached his street, and then the house.

He couldn’t believe he’d ended up back here. All that struggle to be back in his father’s house.

Even if Minerva had spoken for him, and Potter too, it hadn’t been enough. Not really, not after he’d killed Albus. He’d imagined his life after the war, after neither the Dark Lord nor Albus held his leash. He’d thought he’d be dead, or be thanked. But this idiot boy had cocked up his own life, and Severus’ too.

Severus swallowed black, spiky rage and took down the eight defensive spells on the property to let them both in. He gestured the boy into the house ahead of him, and had the brief pleasure of watching him hesitate, anxious at giving Severus his back.

Severus felt a moment of old humiliation at the dank little house he lived in. When he turned from hanging up his cloak, he caught the brief suggestion of a wrinkled nose in the boy’s pale features.

“And where do you live now?”

It was an easy victory. Too easy perhaps - watching him wince and smooth his threadbare clothes as if the touch would transmute them into velvet robes - but Severus never claimed much respect for vulnerability.

He pointed his wand at the boy and enjoyed a flash of sheer panic in his face. Then Severus cast the spell and the boy closed his eyes, huffing out a sigh of relief.

The thread of fear in his eyes was even sweeter now that he was Malfoy-blond again. The removal of his glamours also revealed the shadow of a bruise at one blue-veined temple.

Severus led them into the gloomy living room, and headed for the liquor. He poured himself Firewhiskey out of habit, then paused. He considered withholding it, but there was a better, petty little revenge in giving the boy things he’d miss once he was back out there.

Not all vengeance was grand.

He handed the whiskey over, and the boy accepted it wordlessly. He swallowed half of it in one anxious gulp, but didn’t cough. Perhaps Lucius had trained him. Dampness was left on his lower lip. Severus eyed the slick skin, and the rest of him. What he’d bought.

A little taller than Severus himself; Severus was of resoundingly average height, but he was like Lucius and Narcissa, tall pale columns like living marble. He’d gone thin; the starveling cheekbones made his face very different from that of the child Severus had known. Still young, though. Enormously so. Severus felt the teacher’s urge to confiscate the alcohol as the boy swallowed the rest of it, as though worried Severus would take it back.

Severus sat, and gestured for the boy to join him on the stained brown sofa. Severus sipped his whiskey to give himself time to think, unsure what he wanted to do.

“Where do you want me?” the boy breathed. Severus glanced at him and met heavy-lidded grey eyes.

Severus wouldn’t have this attempt at flirting, as if he were a stranger, too distant to see how far the boy had fallen. “How is your dear mother?” he asked, his voice a hiss.

The boy’s gaze flared. “You know,” he said, quite accurately.

Hmm. Not beaten - or perhaps still unable to know when he was beaten. Severus remembered a similar blaze in the eyes of a twelve-year-old who went after Potter again, and again, and again, no matter how many times he was smacked down.

The boy still had the capacity to be a challenge. It was an undeniably appealing thought.

“I took an Unbreakable Vow in this room, with Narcissa.” Severus paused, curious and sadistic, waiting for his reaction. “She had me swear to protect you. At least until Dumbledore was dead. To kill him in your place.”

“Oh.” The pale eyes were flickering around the room, as if looking for a way out.

“Perhaps I should have you swear one now. It would have a pleasing symmetry. Have you promise to obey me?”

“I - you - will you - ”

Severus drew out the moment, watching him panic, his mouth working and terror building his eyes, breath choking out of him in little huffs.

“No. If you swore a Vow, you might relax. I prefer that you always have the ability to say no. So that you’re aware every second that you’re saying yes.”

The boy took a deep breath like a sob.

“Out of those clothes. I want to see your skin.”

It was a shamed shuffle, nothing of the striptease in it, and more erotic for that. Naked, for all the sordid circumstance, he seemed more like himself. Without the shabby clothes, despite being too thin and lacking that pampered glow, he was - more what he’d been.

Severus traced the marks with his eyes: fingertip bruises at his hips, scrapes, a bitemark blossoming purple at his collarbone. The white scar on his left arm.

He’d never been any good at healing charms.

The boy grew twitchy under his eyes, perhaps waiting for another order. But Severus had been a spy, had lived under surveillance; he knew the power of being the watcher.

The boy’s cock was soft. No matter.

His shamed posture slowly shaded into something like his old comportment despite his painful flush. Severus raised an eyebrow, waiting for another attempt to take control. Show some initiative, Mr -

He dropped to his knees and crawled forward. At the sight of him on his knees, the young scion of a proud line crawling over Severus’ thin carpet, Severus felt a shocking burst of lust - the first real sense of arousal he’d had tonight.

The boy reached for Severus’ robes.

Severus let him, adjusting himself to make it easier to free his cock from his robes and underwear. He certainly wasn’t going to remove his own clothing. Instead Severus spread his legs and sipped his whiskey as his naked purchase crawled between his legs and slipped Severus’ cock into his mouth.

The boy closed his eyes as he did it; was he trying to avoid Severus’ Legilimency or simply distance himself? He was more practiced than Severus had expected, the sneer wiped away as his lips sealed around Severus’ cock. His tongue danced along Severus’ cock and Severus let out a grunt, surprised by the force of his own arousal. It had been a while, he supposed.

Severus’ fingertips went white around his glass as the boy worked. To distract himself from the urge to bury his hand in the boy’s hair, he talked. “Excellent service. I imagine you’ve had plenty of practice.” The boy’s throat seized round his cock, and he choked for a moment before getting his rhythm back. “It’s certainly paid off. Practice makes perfect, I imagine.”

The boy’s shoulders quivered as he lowered his head. Severus’ hips were moving a little, wanting to meet the wicked mouth. He hadn’t expected to enjoy this so much, feeling the boy strain and work to bring him off, the arrogant young mouth stretched round Severus’ prick.

Severus finally allowed himself to slip his hands into the white-blond hair. “Up. Come along now, up you get.” He pulled the boy’s hair, dragging him off his cock and up until he had a lapful of prostitute. The boy straddled him, long pale legs bent awkwardly round him.

Severus ran his hands over the boy’s long thighs, his shoulders, up his sides, casually possessive. The boy held himself still and silver-pale under Severus’ hands, so tense he was trembling. Severus stroked his chest, and felt his heart pounding like a bird against the cage of Severus’ long fingers.

The pouting mouth met Severus’, and he allowed himself to be distracted. The kiss was less experienced than Severus would have expected, tellingly, but his mouth was hot. Severus pulled him closer as they kissed, unwilling to let the boy pull away. The wool of his robes was undoubtedly scratching the boy’s tender inner thighs, Severus’ buttons likely cold against his skin. Severus hauled him closer, keeping his body pressed against Severus’.

The boy obeyed every tug of Severus’ hands, obedient to each gesture telling him how Severus wanted him. Severus didn’t know what was better; forcing him to take initiative, watching him make himself do it through sheer force of will, turning all that Malfoy force of personality to letting Severus grope him - or holding him so tight that he couldn’t struggle.

Severus released him from the kiss, but kept a hand in his hair, the other exploring the long muscles of his back, the soft pureblood skin. He kissed the boy’s neck, grinning as he felt him shudder, as Severus set his teeth into the vulnerable skin.

He remembered the boy golden and beautiful, remembered Lucius effortlessly cultured and rich and confident, never out of place as halfblood, working-class Severus would always be. Remembered Lucius’ charming son making the others laugh, holding court with the smile of a boy born to rule. Severus bit him again and heard the boy whimper.

Severus felt clever hands stroking over his chest. Too clever to try to undo his buttons. Severus squeezed the boy’s arse, enjoying the feel of it, firm and ripe. He wondered what Albus would think if he saw him now, about to fuck a former student half his age - a boy he’d paid - and huffed a laugh against the boy’s skin.

He fumbled for his wand, and wordlessly Summoned some slick, and two shiny nipple clamps he’d bought and never used. He pushed two fingers into the boy’s heat, stroking his pale cock with his other hand. The boy spread his legs still wider at Severus’ urging, holding onto Severus’ shoulders as he was kissed and fingered, as Severus brought him inescapably to hardness. Severus cupped the boy’s balls, played his fingers inside to feel him shudder, enjoying the liberties he could take; all this flesh laid out for him. Small sounds were slipping from the boy’s mouth; his hands clenched a little on Severus’ shoulders.

“Here.” Severus held out the lube. “Finish preparing yourself.”

Grey eyes examined Severus’ face; perhaps he was clever enough to be suspicious. Severus kept his hand out, unmoving, until the boy took it.

Severus met his gaze, refusing to let him hide as he readied himself to be fucked, opened himself for Severus’ cock. The walls were higher than ever, Occlumency holding Severus off even as the boy opened himself in other ways.

The rising flush on the pale face, the slick sounds as he worked himself, the shamed eyes going dark with arousal - Severus clenched his hand round the boy’s thigh for a moment before he remembered himself and held out the clamps.

“I - what are those?”

“Surely you know?” Severus grinned and thumbed them open, drinking in the cringe. “May I?”

There was a crease of the brow, a bite of the lip, a brief clench of the jaw; but then he looked defeated and said yes.

That slumped-shoulder yes was the sweetest Severus had ever heard.

“Good. Then perhaps you should keep fucking yourself.”

The boy paused for another moment. Severus could feel every muscle clenched atop him, could feel all the things kept caged behind the boy’s clenched teeth. But this wouldn’t be half as fun if the boy weren’t aware every second that he’d chosen it.

Severus toyed with the pink nipples, rolling and teasing them, pinching until the boy jerked atop him. He kept playing until they were pouting from the boy’s chest, and then played some more, unwilling to stop unil he’d dragged some nice sounds from the boy, until he’d stopped even trying to hold them back. The boy stopped fingering himself, but Severus didn’t mind; he was fully open now, and this way he had his hands tight round Severus’ shoulders again, transmitting every reaction into Severus’ bones.

His Occlumency didn’t mean much.

Then Severus thumbed open one gleaming silver clap, and closed it round the boy’s flesh.

He squawled, jerking backwards, away from the source of the pain. His chest heaved. Severus let him, holding up the other clamp.

It was so much better the second time, watching him force himself to lean forward, presenting his chest for the clamp, knowing how it would feel. Severus let the silver teeth bite into the hard nipple and devoured the flinch, the cry, how it only made him hold tighter to Severus.

Severus flicked them and watched the boy’s mouth contort round the squeal, as if he might cry.

He adjusted his robes. “Ride me, then.”

The boy swallowed, his breathing still uneven. Such a pretty picture, Severus thought, watching the frown of concentration as the boy held Severus’ cock steady and slipped down around it, encasing him in heat.

Severus wasn’t in the mood to praise him; he remembered how the boy had always preened, leaning into praise like a cat being stroked. But the feel of him, the sight of him as he began to rock himself in Severus’ lap, the focus in the pale face, the long body all working to get Severus off - it was astonishing.

Severus swallowed, trying to control his own lust. The boy was holding himself there by willpower, trapped and doing his best and riding Severus’ cock, his own cock pink and hard and betraying him. Severus’ whole body felt hot.

He took hold of the long cock, drawing a distressed moan. He caught the grey eyes, keeping the boy trapped in his gaze, waiting for him to say no.

The boy closed his eyes and tipped his head back, pushing his hips forward. Offering himself up.

It had been so long since he’d used his skill at playing people to simply… play.

They rocked together, finding a rhythm quickly. Severus was mesmerised by the clamps, the white-blond hair dampening with sweat, the flush. The sudden tension in the boy’s face when Severus stroked his chest, not-quite-touching the clamps. He went near-liquid by comparison when Severus went back to stroking his cock, and Severus let out a moan.

He wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer, not with this pureblood body exerting itself, doing what he’d paid for, tightening round him in a delicious rhythm with that pale throat exposed.

“Look at me,” he said, suddenly impatient with the closed eyes. “Look at me.”

For a long moment, the boy didn’t. Severus flicked the clamps and the boy yowled, opening his eyes on a rush of pain and anger.

Severus felt the boy’s emotion deep in the pit of his stomach, because as their eyes met Draco’s walls came down.

It was like burning water pouring in, drowning Severus in emotions and memories that were being released faster than he could keep up. Fear and resentment and shamed arousal. Betrayal. Severus lashed out like a scalded cat, slapping Draco sideways, and Severus caught terror in the pale eyes as his face snapped to one side.

“I didn’t - I didn’t mean - ” Draco’s eyes caught Severus’ again, his fright sending shocks through them both. “Please, I’ll finish, I -- ”

Draco was too frightened to think clearly, Severus too dazed. The mark of his hand was livid on Draco’s face. He’d wanted to stay protected, he could feel Severus in his mind. Could feel Severus seeing the old memories at the front of his mind.

Severus saw himself as the young Draco had seen him: the impossibly clever dark wizard, possessor of secrets, revealer of wisdom, protector of Slytherins. Draco had admired him so much; the class difference Snape had always felt between himself and Lucius, the stress he was under working for Albus and then the Dark Lord, it all melted away under Draco’s hero-worshipping eyes.

Foolish boy, he’d had no idea --

Draco rode him faster, slamming himself down on Severus’ cock. His mouth was working like he was on the edge of tears. He’d kept the Manor far past the point he should have, unable to keep the old pile running with his parents in Azkaban, and still the debt he was in didn’t pain him half as much as the loss of his ancestral home. It loomed large in his mind, his memories.

It was too late for Severus to withdraw himself from the tide of memories and emotions; he was left to try to swim in it, his heartbeat in sync with Draco’s as Draco worked to bring him to orgasm.

Severus was gasping, his breath as ragged as Draco’s. He hadn’t wanted this, this wasn’t how Legilimency was meant to work, he hadn’t -

But he’d never used it on someone during sex before.

He needed to take it back, to make it all stop. He unsnapped the clamps and Draco yowled, pain and arousal slamming through him, his thighs clenching round Severus’ as he gasped from the shock of it. Severus cried out too, caught in the feedback loop of Draco’s emotions; then Draco, shuddering, pushed himself to keep going. He thrust himself down on Severus’ cock, trembling with it, once, twice -

Severus came, drawn helplessly in the riptide of it, swallowed up in the heat and rush. He felt Draco spasm atop him, tightening around him, moaning half-formed words as Severus clutched at him. They came together, wracked by it, washed away by it.

A little while later Severus blinked his eyes open to find Draco’s face in front of his. His eyes were - unreadable, but he looked half-destroyed, trembling. He fumbled to his feet, staggering away from Severus. His nipples were scarlet, marks in the shape of Severus’ mouth blooming on his neck, his eyes dark holes in his face.

“Where’s the money?”

Severus stared at him.

“You promised. Where is it?”

Severus found the wherewithal to search out the hidden pocket in his robes. He found his purse and held it out. Draco took it in one outstretched hand, not stepping closer than he needed to, and fumbled out Galleons. He thrust them into the pocket of those Muggle jeans.

“Draco.”

Draco cringed at the sound of his name.

“Draco, stop.”

“No!” Draco cried, sounding as if the word had been fighting to get out all evening. “No, I did what you wanted. You told me to look at you and I did, I saw -- ”

“You saw,” Severus agreed heavily, wilting back onto his sofa. “Perhaps even observed.”

“Stop it,” Draco muttered as he threw himself into his clothes, scrabbling into them and away from Severus’ eyes as fast as he could. Severus stayed slumped, his cock ridiculously on display where his robes were unbuttoned. “I’m not your student any more, you’re not a spy, you can’t teach me - ”

“I doubt I could teach you even when you were my student,” Severus said, acerbic to the last. “But I shall not make any more painful observations.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d said something without considering it first. But he didn’t realise what he’d said until Draco started laughing like sobbing as he stepped into his trainers, patted himself to make sure he had everything.

He wasn’t going to apologise for it. Fuck it, he wasn’t going to feel small because of a Malfoy, not again. Severus stood, watching Draco finish putting himself back together, ready to venture into the world again. Probably back to Knockturn Alley.

Stupid boy, when he looked even more vulnerable now. Severus watched Draco’s hands shaking as he tied his laces.

Severus buttoned his own robes, adjusting his armour as best he could. Draco palmed some Floo powder and stepped towards the fireplace, glancing back as he did so. Severus glanced away before their eyes could meet. He still felt half inside that pale skin, felt his own heart pounding as he watched Draco’s fear.

“See you, I suppose.” Draco stepped away into the fire.

“I hope not,” Severus said, staring after him.