Author: eeyore9990
Title: Lessons in Communication
Pairing: Snape/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Summary: For the prompt: Snarry, Harry in a french maid costume!
Warnings: cross dressing, food smut, feather smut, D/s, and porn porn porn
Word Count: 3159
Disclaimer: Not mine at all! Not even an acknowledged by JKR gay man anywhere in the fic.
A/N: Thanks to Ali for the super quick beta and to all who held my hand through this fic!

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Harry stood still, the dull ache in his ankles and toes absolutely nothing to him. The netting scratching at him made him want to move, but he wouldn't. He couldn't bear to disappoint Him. Not again.

He heard the sound of parchment crinkling as He turned a page in His journal. Then a long silence in which the ticking of the clock seemed to count off each slow beat of Harry's heart.

He closed his eyes, maintaining his posture, standing so motionless he could have been another piece of furniture in a room full of the stuff. It was peaceful, actually. It shouldn't have been, but it was.

He drew a long breath in through his nose, the various scents in the room skittering through his consciousness as he did so. The musky odour of the ancient text He was reading, the heady floral aroma of the Darjeeling steeping in a pot on the corner of His desk, His own darkly seductive scent, and under that, closer, the scent of the grime that clung to Harry's feather duster. The only thing that did not emit a scent was the magical fire that crackled merrily in the fireplace, and Harry had long ago stopped expecting the sweet flavour of burning wood.

He carefully wriggled his toes inside the confines of the heeled shoes he wore, hoping to keep them from going numb as they had the last time he'd done this. He'd learned long ago not to lock his knees or to attempt to keep his eyes wide open. Such things only led to unnecessary discomfort or embarrassing unconsciousness, which led Him to being upset and disappointed in Harry's lack of communication and trust.

Communication was an issue that they had to continually work on, as Harry was still hesitant to bother Him with what he considered meaningless concerns. However, when He needed Harry, He did not hesitate to let him know, and He expected the same consideration in return. It was as much for Harry's health and safety as for his comfort, as He'd explained, in what passed for patience in Him, the last time they'd discussed the issue.

A heavy sigh drew his attention and he saw that He was straightening in His chair, one hand rubbing at His eyes. Harry stifled a soft sound of sympathy and stepped from his position near the door. Crossing the room carefully on the spiked heels so as not to wobble or appear less than graceful, Harry came to a halt next to His desk, waiting to be acknowledged.

He looked up at Harry and raised one black eyebrow. Knowing that to be an invitation to speak, Harry said, his voice low and soothing, "Is there any comfort I can offer, Sir?"

His nostrils flared for a moment, likely at Harry's presumption, but He relented with a nod and leaned back in His chair. He relaxed as much as He was able and Harry stepped behind Him, leaning forward to stroke his hands through His hair, lightly massaging His scalp. He sighed and relaxed further, nearly making Harry giddy with feelings of accomplishment.

After several long moments of this, He reached back, stilling Harry's hands and pulling them from His head. Tugging on Harry's hands, He spun His chair in a lazy circle as He drew Harry around until they were facing one another. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he saw His intentions in the dark eyes and the curve of His lips. A smirk that would once have made his blood rush with anger now made his toes curl in anticipation.

In these shoes, that was an accomplishment.

His hands dropped Harry's and He leaned forward in the chair, which broke the silence with a long creak of insufficiently oiled springs, and trailed one finger up the outside of Harry's thigh, dragging it over the threads of his fishnet stockings. He looked up at Harry and said, "You may sit in my lap."

Harry smiled to show his pleasure and carefully climbed into His lap, placing his knees on the outsides of His thighs before sliding as close as his multiple layers of starched petticoats would allow him. He smoothed his hands down his chest, over his black satin uniform slowly, watching His face for tell tale sign of appreciation and hunger, but He stilled Harry's hands with a small twitch of His lips.

"We have been in this room for four hours. You haven't had a drink or eaten in that time. You will do both now."

Harry lowered his head, flushing with shame as he realised He was right. "Yes, Sir."

He sat back in His chair and called for a house elf. Harry didn't look up to see which one had come to His command, but simply waited patiently for Him to order their meal. When it arrived a few seconds later, He placed one finger under Harry's chin and drew his gaze up to His face. "Were you hungry?"

Harry shook his head, murmuring a soft, "No, Sir."

"Were you thirsty?"

"No, Sir."

"Then you have no reason to avoid my gaze. You may feed me."

Harry's mouth spread wide with a smile filled with happiness at those words even as his cock stirred in the tight confines of his white satin knickers. There was nothing he found more erotic than feeding Him with his fingers, which He knew. This was a treat He rarely indulged in as He was not one to waste time in what He considered frivolous pursuits.

Harry twisted on His lap to reach the platter of food and bit his lip as he tried to decide which item to feed Him first. There was some sort of white meat in a light sauce, cut into bite sized portions; a pasta dish, penne he thought it was called; spears of asparagus; and, off to the side, a colourful offering of spring berries. A thick piece of bread slathered with butter called to Harry strongest, though, so he plucked that from the tray and turned to offer it to Him first.

Ripping a manageable size piece from the warm bread, Harry brought his hand up to His mouth, tracing his smallest finger along the seam of His lips until He slowly parted them. Harry sucked in a breath, trying not to wriggle as his body flooded with the warmth of arousal. He smiled shakily and pressed his fingers into His mouth, moaning softly when He caught them lightly between His teeth before licking the bread from Harry's fingers.

Harry watched, fascinated, as He chewed and swallowed, then licked the buttery sheen from His lips.

"Your turn," He said, and Harry nodded. Barely paying attention to what he was doing, Harry pulled another small portion from the piece of bread in his hand and popped it into his mouth before rushing to do the same for Him. He grabbed Harry's wrist, shaking His head as He said, "Patience, Harry. Chew that before you choke on it."

Harry raised his eyebrows and grinned impishly around his food as he chewed it, causing Him to chuckle. "You have excellent oral skills, but that does not preclude the possibility of choking on food. Pay attention."

Harry fluttered his lashes flirtatiously but nodded, swallowing dutifully. He released His grip on Harry's hand then, allowing Harry to resume His feeding. For each piece of food Harry placed in His mouth, he was ordered to partake of the same. Harry's fingers were cleansed between each dish in quite the most erotic fashion ever. He would suck Harry's fingers into His mouth, bathing them with His tongue, until Harry would be overwhelmed with the need to rub against Him, whimpering low in his throat. Then He would release Harry's fingers and lowly command him to continue with the meal.

It was at once frustrating and exhilarating.

When all that remained on the tray was the dish of berries, Harry smiled slyly and changed his pattern of feeding Him first. Placing the first berry, a raspberry, on his own tongue, Harry pulled it slowly into his mouth and bit cleanly through it, splitting it in half, before he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to His. Humming slightly, He parted His lips, using the tip of His tongue to coax Harry into sharing the berry with Him—not that it required much coaxing.

The first berry disappeared rather quickly in a tangle of tongues, teeth, and lips. Firm hands at his waist pulled against Harry's hips until he was rocking against Him, his satin-covered erection sliding smoothly over the wool of His robes and His own hardened length. A low growl rumbled up through His chest, delighting Harry, just before those hands lifted him from His lap.

Harry would have protested, but he soon enough found himself laid out on His desk, his legs still wound 'round His waist as He'd done little more than stand from the position they'd been in. He placed Harry's hands above his head on the desk with the firm admonition to keep them there before He trailed His fingers slowly down the side of Harry's cheek, along his jaw, skated the line of his throat, and stopped at the ruffled edge at the top of Harry's uniform.

He curled His fingers under the fabric, stretching it slightly, and scraped them lightly over the hard edge of Harry's nipple, causing Harry to moan and arch his back, green eyes slits of pure lust as he whispered low entreaties to Him. He merely chuckled darkly as He shook His head and said, "We have nothing but time, minx."

Harry shivered at the latent promise of His words. Attempting to help Him change His mind, he squeezed his thighs tight around His waist, using the strength of his legs to pull His hips toward him so that he could rub himself sensuously against Him. He raised that damnable eyebrow again and moved His hand—the one not torturing Harry's nipples with those light touches—to spank Harry sharply on his satin-covered arse.

"Behave yourself, Harry."

Harry blinked, relaxed his thighs, and nodded, dropping his legs from around His waist. "I'm sorry, Sir."

He tilted His head, narrowing His eyes as He stared hard at Harry, gauging his contrition. After a few moments, He dropped His gaze back to the place His fingers stroked Harry's chest under his uniform and nodded, smoothing the flat of His alternate hand over the warm place on Harry's arse where He'd punished him mere seconds before.

Harry's breath caught at that ghost of a touch and he fought against his instincts, wanting to move into the touch, but heeding His warning instead. He was swiftly rewarded; not seconds later, He pushed the skirt of Harry's uniform up above his waist, baring his knicker-clad groin to His touch. Long, warm fingers slid slowly over his cock, forcing a moan from his throat. Harry's eyes slid closed as he savoured the sensations aroused by His touch.

He lived for these moments.

A hot mouth on his collar bone added to the thrills of pleasure overwhelming him. A lifting pressure on his shoulders made him open his eyes again and sit up. Harry kept his hands above his head, crossed at the wrist, the feather duster dangling from its strap to graze his bare shoulder. The buttons down the back of his uniform were slipped from their holes, causing the material to fall loose, gaping to show his bare chest. A crooked half-smile touched His lips, causing Harry's breath to catch. Their eyes locked as He slowly untied the small white apron and brought it up to where Harry's hands were crossed. Without breaking eye contact, he tied the apron strings in an intricate pattern around Harry's wrists, the makeshift bonds tight but not uncomfortable.

Plucking Harry's specs off his nose with His thumb and forefinger, He carefully closed them and laid them on the far corner of the desk before tugging the feather duster from Harry's wrist, where the strap nearly tangled with the apron strings. He placed the feather duster across Harry's thighs after directing a cleansing charm on it.

Harry bit his lip and blinked, lying back as He applied pressure to his shoulders. A tugging on his hips made him lift them so that He could slide the knickers down his legs and carefully manoeuvre them around the heels of his shoes. Those He brought to His mouth to press a kiss to them before sliding them into a pocket of His robes.

Harry took a breath and held it, eyelids fluttering as He picked up the feather duster and began flicking it randomly over Harry's exposed skin. When it brushed his nipples and the insides of his elbows, he couldn't help the needy little moan that escaped him. A dark chuckle made him focus again on Him as He held up the feathery end of the duster and plucked one long feather from it.

Placing the duster rather deliberately beside Harry, He brought the lone feather to Harry's mouth, tracing his lips with it before He raised it before Harry's eyes. And then it was gone, along with His hand. Harry gasped and moaned as he felt it tracing along the shallow groove where his thigh met his groin. His breath stuttered in his chest as it curved over and around his balls and his eyes squeezed shut hard when it tickled up the underside of his cock.

"Sir," he breathed, pure need poured into that one word.

"Hush, brat," He growled softly and set about pushing Harry to the very edge of insanity. The feather dragged lightly down his perineum and paused for one soul-rending second before brushing purposefully around the rim of his arse. Harry would have screamed had he the breath to do so. As it was, he could only move his lips in a wordless plea as his hands opened and closed, helpless in their restraints.

Another chuckle made him shiver uncontrollably as He sat once again in His chair, the creak of the springs adding a distinct feeling of unreality to the proceedings. He pressed His one hand into the material bunched around Harry's waist, to keep it out of His way as He leaned forward in the chair and added a stream of cool breath to the feeling of the feather brushing delicately around Harry's entrance, which twitched and contracted in response.

"So beautiful," He said, His voice rubbing over Harry like warm velvet.

A loud buzzing started up in Harry's ears as he felt his orgasm approach. Contracting his stomach muscles against the need for release, Harry attempted valiantly to control his body's reactions. He tossed his head on the hard, unforgiving surface of the desk as he fought to slow the rumbling in his balls. Bright pinpoints of light exploding behind his eyes reminded him to breathe, and he sucked in air on a gasp, only to expel it on a shattered moan as he felt one slick finger breach his entrance.

The finger stretched inside him as he writhed on the desk, his chest rising and falling as he twisted against the feelings rioting through him. Another finger joined the first and he sighed shakily, attempting to relax into the touch even as the rest of his body wound tight with need.

"Tell me what you want, Harry," He said, and Harry swallowed roughly.

"I… I want…" Oh, how could He expect Harry to be able to speak coherently after all He'd done to him?

"Speak, brat."

"Ahhh. Oh, please! I want… I want you."

"Here I am. Should I stop?"

"No, please, Sir! Please don't stop. I want…" Thoughts flooded through him and poured from his mouth with no direction from his brain. "I want to feel you inside me, Sir. I want to feel your hands gripping my hips so hard they leave marks. I want your mouth… I want your mouth, yes."

"Where do you want my mouth?"

"Everywhere," Harry breathed. "Oh, please, Sir."

No sooner had those words left Harry's lips than His mouth was sliding wetly down Harry's cock, sucking almost harshly. Harry's chest came off the desk as he arched his back with a shout. The twisting fingers in his arse stretched him as He continued to lick and suck until Harry's thighs tensed in the moment just prior to orgasm.

Then He pulled completely away from Harry's body, leaving him panting and pleading, his body trembling with need and his hair damp from a combination of sweat and the unconscious tears that dripped from his eyes to his hairline. Harry blinked quickly, clearing his vision, as he looked up at Him, trying desperately to bring himself back under control.

Making sure Harry was watching Him, He very deliberately placed his hands around Harry's hips, tightening His fingers until Harry gasped at the strength of them.

"Yes," he breathed, the sound a wisp of noise.

He pulled against Harry's hips, dragging him a few inches along the glossy surface of the desk. Harry held his breath as he felt His cock nudge against his arse before pressing smoothly inside. Harry's lashes fluttered against his cheeks until he heard His command to open them and look.

Forcing his eyelids up, he saw that a mirror had been charmed above them, only for him. He gasped as he saw the picture he made. Dark hair gone black with wetness, chest a mottled red from the flush that spread through him, cheeks rosy, lips dark and wet, eyes glossy… His gaze travelled down his own body until he saw the place He was slowly sliding in and out of him. The angle of the mirror captured every motion perfectly and Harry moaned at the sight of His dark red cock disappearing into his arse, even as his body rippled with pleasure at feeling it.

The combined sensations flooded his body and the orgasm that had been threatening for so long chose that moment to overwhelm him. He gasped and shook as his come splashed hot and wet over his stomach, his fingers digging into the desk above his head in the need to hold onto something.

He sighed as the last of his orgasm washed through him, his body relaxing as his mind went blank from pleasure. His body rocked against the desk as He continued to thrust firmly into Harry for several long minutes until, curving His body over to press flat against Harry, He captured Harry's lips in a long, wet kiss even as He slammed forward one last time.

When they'd both recovered and their breathing had returned to something approaching normal, He pulled Harry up into His arms and settled them both into the chair. Stroking His hand through Harry's hair, He said, "I am impressed despite myself, Harry. You've finally learned to communicate."