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Harry winced as he watched the vial topple over as if in slow motion. He hadn't been watching, hadn't been careful, and now he was about to make a huge mess. As if Snape wasn't already angry enough with him for merely existing, now he was making a mess out of the man's precious Potions classroom. This was not going to be good.

Sure enough, the first sound that followed the tinkling of glass was Snape's sneering voice. "POTTER!"

Harry scrambled to clean up the mess before Snape could get even angrier. "I'm sorry, Professor! It was an accident..."

But it was too late. Snape was livid. "Thirty points from Gryffindor!" The rest of Harry's housemates groaned. "And Mr. Potter will serve two hours detention after this class."

Harry opened his mouth to protest. It was Friday afternoon! He and Ron and Hermione had plans! But one look at the teacher's cold face and he knew there was no point. He just slammed his book closed and glared at it as the rest of the students were dismissed to their freedom. He barely acknowledged his friends as they offered their sympathies and said they would see him at dinner.

When the classroom was empty save Harry and Snape, the Professor spoke up at last. "Well, Mr. Potter, now that I have your undivided attention," he paused, sneering at the young wizard, "I'll give you your assignment. In the two hours that you are my guest, you are to write a 12 page essay on the potion you were meant to be making today; it's history, variations, advantages and disadvantages. Any questions?"

Harry bit back any protests, lest Snape make the punishment even worse. He sighed to himself. A long, boring assignment, but one he could probably finish in the given time. He got out some paper and opened his book, planning the essay. Snape seemed to be busy at his own desk, and seemed to have lost interest in harassing Harry. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

After about a half an hour, Harry had gotten a good start on his essay, Snape was still intent on his work, and his mind was starting to wander.

He couldn't help but remember what he had seen last night. He had been coming back late from the library, and he hadn't expected there to be anyone in the Gryffindor common room. And, at first, he hadn't thought there was. He was walking through on his way to his room when he heard a muffled sound coming from one of the big chairs in front of the fire. The chair's back was to him, and he couldn't see who was there. Thinking it might be Ron, he walked around to the side so he could see.

Well, there was someone there, all right, but it wasn't Ron; it was two boys. Colin and Neville, to be exact. In the same chair. Wrapped around each other. They looked quite busy, and Harry didn't think they had seen him. He backed away as fast as he could, and as he did, his mind registered that they had been... kissing! Two boys, kissing! Harry had never imagined such a thing... well, yes, he had, he admitted to himself as he jumped into bed as quickly as possible. Everyone was already asleep. He had just never imagined he would see it. He had thought of it, more than once, in fact, and the thoughts always gave him a peculiar feeling in his lower stomach. Now that feeling was back, stronger than ever; and now there was another feeling even lower. He moved his hand down and tentatively touched himself. He had to stifle a moan; he was getting an erection, and it was very sensitive. This had happened before, at random times, but he had always resisted the urge to touch himself. It seemed like a naughty thing to do. But it had never gotten this hard before... or felt like this... experimentally, he squeezed his hard length through his pajama bottoms. God, it felt good... he licked his lips and squeezed again, moaning softly. Just then, in the bed next to Harry's, Ron chose to turn over in his sleep, mumbling slightly. Harry snatched his hand away quickly, feeling guilty even though he was reasonably sure Ron was asleep still. He rolled over, willing his erection to go away and let him fall asleep. But sleep was a long time coming. He thought about why seeing the two boys together did this to him; and he thought about why girls didn't affect him this way. He kept thinking he was just a late bloomer, that at 16 his hormones hadn't fully kicked in yet. But now he had to admit, if only to himself, that maybe they had, but not in the way he thought they would.

Now, sitting in detention, the thought was making him hard once again. He felt his face go red as he realized where he was. He was sitting in Snape's class, and he was aroused. He felt sure that the man would be able to tell, that he could sense that Harry was having naughty thoughts. He looked up at the professor. Snape's brow was furrowed in concentration and he chewed on the end of a quill. All of a sudden, Harry realized he was staring in fascination at the man's mouth. When that mouth wasn't actively sneering at him, the lips were actually quite full and... Snape's hands looked so big and strong as they paged through a book. With a start, Harry realized he was admiring the teacher he most hated. His face went redder yet, and suddenly he saw that those cold black eyes were staring back at him. The man had a powerful aura, and Harry's hormones read that power as sexual. Why had he never realized how sexy the man was? Maybe because he was busy hating him... maybe those feelings were negative because his body already knew what his mind couldn't accept...

"Is there a problem, Mr. Potter?" Snape said, voice as smooth as silk. God, the man's voice was incredible... Harry longed to hear the man whisper his first name...

It took Harry several tries before he could answer. "No, it's nothing."

Snape raised a suspicious eyebrow but declined to comment, returning to his work. The teacher was having an internal battle. He didn't have to give Potter detention for such a minor infraction, but his need to be near the boy had taken over his mouth, it seemed. The more he was around Harry, the more he had to admit his instant dislike for the boy was his own subconscious masking his extreme attraction to him. He was tempted; the forbidden had always called to him. He knew it was wrong, told himself he could handle it; but as the boy grew older, and only got more desirable, he knew he was lost. He just hoped he could hold out until the boy left Hogwart's. So what the hell was he doing, torturing himself like this? He was more than twice Harry's age. When the boy was younger, he was no doubt transferring the anger he still felt towards his father to the son. If he noticed then how attractive Harry was, he could push it away with hate. But Harry grew up, and proved himself as more than his father's son, more than the Boy Who Lived, Snape was forced to see him more as a person. A very sexy person... He tried to keep his eyes from wandering over to the boy's lithe form again. He failed, and tried to convince himself the boy wasn't acting oddly, even for him. The boy didn't seem to be able to sit still.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, but not before casting another admiring glance at the professor. He caught himself again, shaking his head. He must be going mad. He tried again to concentrate on his work. But his arousal wasn't letting him. Slowly, surreptitiously, he snuck a hand under his robes, trying to reach his trapped erection. Maybe if he could just adjust it, it wouldn't ache so much. He finally got his hand underneath, and was trying to straighten out the hard flesh (when had he gotten fully hard?) when he felt eyes on him. Slowly, hoping he was wrong, not moving his hand to attract more attention to it, he lifted his eyes. His heart sank as he saw that, sure enough, Professor Snape was staring directly at him with a peculiar look on his face. Slowly, Snape got up from his desk, making his way over to where Harry was sitting. Harry hoped desperately for Snape to look away for a second, so he could move his hand, but to no avail. Those coldly burning eyes never wavered from the boy wizard. He was in trouble.

Snape couldn't believe his eyes when they first suggested to him what the boy was doing. Of course, once he had got the idea in his head, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the boy's hand, inching under his robes... oh god, he was touching himself... his cock sprang to life from the very thought. What should he do? Harry was destined to drive him insane, one way or another. His first inclination was an offer of assistance, but he couldn't do that, of course. Could he just ignore it? Like he had to ignore his own arousal whenever he got too close to Harry, close enough to smell him... He felt his own cock pulse, defying his control once again. It was too much temptation, he couldn't resist... maybe the teen wanted Snape to notice? Was this another way to defy him? Or... he let his mind wander to the forbidden for just a moment, closing his eyes as he imagined touching Harry, that alabaster skin, how the boy's erection would feel, taste... He looked at the boy again, and locked eyes with him. Harry looked guilty, that was for certain, and before he knew what he was doing, he was stalking across the room, trying to hold his glare, thankful once again for the billowing robes that hid his state of arousal.

Snape stopped in front of Harry's desk, and whispered, very slowly, "Potter. What are you doing?"

Harry's mind raced, trying to figure out if Snape knew what he was doing, or just thought he was being inattentive, if he had seen his hand under his robes. "Nothing," he said, but even to his own ears it sounded guilty.

Snape looked pointedly at Harry's lap, where there was a definite bulge that wasn't all from his hand. "Doesn't look like nothing to me, Potter." In fact, it looked wonderful to him; Harry was definitely well-developed for his age. He couldn't believe he was doing this. But the temptation was too great; and he was only human, only a man. No one could be expected to resist those eyes, that smooth skin...

Harry looked up at Snape, mouth open, trying desperately to think of something, anything, to save himself. But all he could think of was how powerful, and god help him, sexy, Snape looked as he stood over him. He wanted to surrender, to submit. This, of course, did not help his problem but only worsened it. "I..."

"You what, Potter? I'd love to hear the explanation for this," he smirked, the sadistic part of him enjoying the sight of the boy squirming in front of him.

Harry hung his head. "I'm sorry, Professor. It just... happened. I was trying to... make it go away..."

Snape laughed, a short, cruel sound. "I hardly think that playing with it will make it go away, Potter." He was forcing himself to maintain his usual persona, because he didn't know any other way to act around Harry. If he lost that attitude, he would truly be lost.

Harry looked up, cheeks blazing. He said the first thing that came to his distracted mind. "It won't?"

Snape frowned down at the boy. "Well, ultimately, it will, but..." he looked more closely at Harry and hesitated. "You really don't know, do you?" The thought that Harry was untouched, innocent... what was left of his resolve melted there and then, and the overwhelming need to possess the boy reared dangerously. His will to resist was almost gone...

Harry shook his head miserably. He couldn't believe he was actually having this conversation with Snape of all people, but he couldn't help himself. Looking up at Snape made him even harder, and hormones were clouding his judgment. The man was looking at him... differently, somehow. And he liked it. "It... aches," he said.

Harry watched as Snape looked down at him with an almost uncertain look on his face. He was certain he had never seen the man look that way before.

Snape bit his lip, then said, more softly, "You've never... touched it?" He shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be saying this, and his mind was providing him with crystal clear images of Harry doing just that. He tried to keep himself from trembling.

"No," breathed Harry, feeling very warm despite the chill of the air. "I don't know how." He glanced down, then said quickly, before he lost his nerve, "Will you show me?"

Snape's mouth hung open in shock, and for a moment he didn't speak at all. "I..." he stammered finally. "I hardly think that's appropriate, Mr. Potter... I'm a teacher." Inside, his body cheered, sending even more blood to harden his cock until he thought it would explode. He couldn't... but Harry was asking...

Harry licked his lips. "Please, Professor? I won't tell anyone... and I am sixteen, you know..." He was past the point of no return; he was sure he would die if Snape rejected him.

How well Snape knew the boy was only sixteen... the need to look upon his boyish perfection pushed him into indecision. He balled his fists, fighting with his own body, surrendering slowly...

Even Harry could tell that Snape was having an internal dilemma. Harry was so far gone now, he decided to push it even farther. Lust was making him wanton. He stood up, and reached up, unzipping his robe slowly. "It's very warm in here..."

Snape's eyes flicked down to Harry's creamy skin that was revealed as the robe opened, back up to the boy's face. "It's not allowed..." he whispered. Snape had heard the whispered stories before, of teachers who fraternized with their students... he had always thought them weak, unable to control their own body's desires. Now here he was, faced with Harry Potter himself, and the boy was offering...

Harry knew Snape was almost convinced, despite his words. He had no idea what he was doing, or what he really wanted, but he did know he liked Snape's eyes on him, liked how the older man was looking at him, wanted the man to touch him. His erection throbbed, demanding attention. He let the robe fall to the floor, and he stood in front of Snape in a white button-up shirt and his uniform pants. Pants that bulged with his arousal. He looked up once more at the teacher. He moved his hand, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants quickly, then reaching in to caress his arousal through his boxers. "Please?" he pleaded.

Did the boy know what he was doing to him? Did he have the slightest clue how much his hands burned to touch, his mouth ached to taste, how his cock was wet with need to bury itself in that sweet body? As a moth to a flame, Snape went to his destruction, though he knew a moth's eventual fate.

Snape took a step closer, his face flushed. Harry wondered if the older man was as aroused as he was. He hoped so. He needed to know. He wanted... he closed the distance between them, and pressed himself against Snape. Sure enough, digging into his stomach was an unmistakable bulge. Oh god, that was the man's cock, rock hard and so big...Snape was as hard as he was. This gave Harry another breathless thrill. He looked up at the teacher once again, and repeated, "Please?"

This was it. He couldn't hold himself back any more. He was in hell, but he didn't want to leave. Damn the consequences. He could feel Harry's body pressed against him, that lean frame, the bulge of his erection against his thigh...This was it.

Snape's eyes fluttered shut, and his lips moved though no sound came out. Harry watched, and after a moment, the other man opened his eyes and smiled slightly. "Are you sure?"

Snape watched Harry's face carefully; trying not to notice the creamy skin, the piercing green eyes, the pink full lips. Lips that called to him, calling to be ravished.

Harry nodded, and it was his turn to close his eyes as he felt Snape's hands finally come up and pull him close. He moved his own hands, placing them on the other man's chest, fumbling with the fastenings of the robe. He wanted to touch Snape.

The teacher allowed himself to savor the feeling of the slim body against him for only a moment, but he wanted this to last. Now that he had given in to temptation, he intended to enjoy it to the fullest. With a quick spell he locked the door securely.

"No, no," chided the teacher, removing Harry's hands. "I thought you wanted a lesson, Harry."

The boy moaned as he heard Snape call him by his name for the first time; for some reason this increased the intimacy of the moment, and made Harry even hotter. He nodded, and dropped his hands to his sides.

"Much better," purred Snape, and just the man's silky voice sent more thrills to the boy's erection. Harry swore the man could make him come from just his voice alone. He moved back, to lean against his desk. "Now take off your pants and shirt."

Harry took a shuddering breath. This was more than he could have dreamed of. Snape wanted him, Snape wanted to watch him... he hoped he wouldn't embarrass himself by coming too soon. He wanted this to last. He unfastened his pants and let them drop, stepping out of them. He unbuttoned his shirt clumsily, sliding it off his shoulders. Now he stood in just his t-shirt and boxers, stretched out with his need.

"Very good," whispered Snape, his coal-black eyes sweeping over the boy in front of him. He licked his lips. "Now the boxers." He held his breath, savoring the first glimpse of the forbidden fruit he would soon be devouring. He wanted to see everything.

Harry had a bit of difficulty getting his boxers off; his arousal got in the way. Finally he kicked them away, and straightened, letting the teacher see him. He reached for the hem of his shirt, but Snape interrupted in a voice gone hoarse. "No, keep that on." He finally allowed himself to look, to feast his eyes on the teenage perfection before him. He had been right, Harry was well-endowed for a 16 year old boy. The fact that the beautiful cock before him had never been touched in passion made it even better. The boy, in just his t-shirt and erection, was perfection indeed. Snape's eyes swept over the nearly hairless, lean body, lightly muscled and fully aroused. He knew full well he was damned, but he was certainly going to enjoy the trip to hell. And make sure Harry enjoyed it too.

"Lean back against the desk," commanded Snape, and Harry did what he was told. Harry drew a deep breath and let the man's sexy voice send him even higher. He was almost afraid this was another dream, but then Snape was walking up to him again, and he held his breath. The man's hand was reaching for him... but then Snape took Harry's hand and placed it on the boy's own hardness.

Snape leaned down, placing the boy's fingers just so, trying to resist the urge to touch the hard flesh himself. That would come later... then he leaned in, bracing himself on the desk behind the boy, wrapped his fingers around Harry's, and squeezed gently. The gasp this produced from he boy was perfection as well. His position had him leaning over Harry without actually touching him. Looking up, he locked eyes with Harry, staring deep into wide green depths, and moved the boy's hand up and down. "Just like that." Their faces were inches apart, and Snape watched closely as Harry felt the first effects of the friction. "You feel that?" whispered Snape, and Harry could only nod dumbly. The older man moved the boy's hand faster, and asked, "Do you like it?" The boy nodded again, of course. Snape moved even closer, so his lips were nearly touching Harry's and murmured, "That's nothing compared to what I'm going to make you feel, Harry."