* * * * * * * * * * *

The man was going to drive him to distraction. It was bad enough that he had to hear that voice like pure sex dripping thickly down his body during class. Now Snape had insisted on refereeing a Quidditch match while Hooch was away on a family emergency. Who knew they even made Quidditch uniforms with all those enticing yet maddening buttons? Harry wanted to tear each and every one off with his teeth.

But he had to be more subtle than that. Snape would simply laugh in the face of a frank proposition, he was certain of it. Well, he was 16 now, the age of consent in Britain (even if it wasn't precisely the age of consent for poufs). Harry meant to make his move. When the match ended, he paid off one of his teammates to start a row in the locker room with a Slytherin. He knew that would bring Snape running. And when he did, Harry was going to be ready for him. He's even been saving an especially small towel just for the occasion.

Snape didn't exactly come running, but he came stalking. The door to the locker room slammed open without the benefit of physical effort, apparently so as not to ruin the effect of Snape striding through it. His dark eyes scanned the room quickly, clearly seeking bloodshed, and his wand was out. "Expelliarmus," he said, and all the wands in the room clattered to rest at his feet. Then he stopped still, crossing his arms, and regarded the room in general. "Would someone like to explain before I begin taking points?" he purred calmly, eyes sweeping over the room.

Harry was standing in the shower stall, trying hard not to grin. He tied the extremely brief piece of fabric around his hips and pulled the curtain back, stepping into the main room, water still dripping down his bare chest. He affected a look of surprise. "Is something wrong, Professor Snape?" he asked. Despite his carefully constructed demeanor, he was watching the older wizard's expression avidly.

Snape's eyes settled on Harry, widening just slightly before he frowned. "Potter. Don't try to look innocent. Tell me what's going on." He strode closer, glancing around the room, missing nothing. The steam from the shower swirled around him dramatically, as if he'd willed it to do so.

It was the briefest of reaction, but it made Harry feel giddy inside. "I'm sorry, Professor, but I was in the shower. I don't know anything about it." He did, of course, but he was reasonably certain he was safe from suspicion. He took a few steps closer, moving lithely. "Whatever it was seems to have stopped. Can I take my wand back now?"

With a frown that lacked its usual ferocity, Snape glanced back at Harry. "No. Not until I ascertain what you hooligans have been up to. Just wait there." He stalked around the corner, and a babble of voices drowned out Snape's silken purr. He reappeared after a moment, and said, "I am certain there was more to this. But for the moment," he gestured and the wands went flying back to their owners, and he continued, "You may carry on." He looked at Harry.

Harry fumbled with his wand, deliberately dropping it on the floor. He bent over to pick it up, as close to Snape's line of vision as he could manage. He knew, could tell that Snape fancied other men. Of course the question still remained if he fancied younger men, but there was only one way to find out.

Snape's lip curled into a sneer as he watched Harry. "Most children grow out of their clumsy stage by your age, Potter." He didn't move, though, as if waiting for something.

Harry turned towards him again and smiled. "And me a seeker. Shameful, isn't it?" He ambled back towards the shower, pulling the towel off a second before he closed the curtain behind him again. He felt like he'd actually won a round, but it was going to be a long fight, he was sure of it.

After a moment, Snape spun on his heel and strode purposefully out of the room.

Harry could hardly wait for Potions class the following day. Phase one of his plan was completed. It was time to move along to phase two. He made a point of muttering under his breath at every opportunity, and when the moment was right, he managed to stick his foot out in the aisle just as Malfoy was walking up to Snape to show off his perfectly concocted potion. He sent the snotty Slytherin falling flat on his face, the potion steaming ominously on the floor.

The classroom erupted into chaos, and Snape had to finally do an immobilising spell before he could bring the classroom into order. He cleaned up the potion with a flick of his wand and then looked menacingly around the room, his eyes settling on Harry and narrowing.

Harry's lips twitched. He struggled to keep a straight face. "It was an accident, I swear, Professor Snape," he protested. But he wasn't worried. He wanted detention. So long as it was with Snape.

Snape's mouth opened, working a moment before he hissed the words, "Detention, Potter. And fifty points from Gryffindor." The classroom erupted into a mix of groans and catcalls.

He winced a little at the points, but he knew he'd have the opportunity to make them up. "Yes, sir," he said meekly.

He avoided his friends that evening as he got ready for his detention. He wasn't even hungry, so he skipped dinner to have another quick shower. He changed into skin tight jeans and an equally tight t-shirt that hugged every curve of his fit young body. He almost resented putting his robes on over it all, but hopefully he'd get to take them off in a little while.

He made his way to the potions classroom and tapped lightly on the door, peeking in. "Professor?" he asked quietly.

"Come in, Potter," the deep silky voice all but snarled. "You're late." Snape was standing behind his desk, looking agitated.

Harry was not daunted. He stepped forward, presenting himself. "I'm not, actually. I'm two minutes early. Professor."

Snape's expression visibly darkened. "According to my clock, you are late. And in this room, my clock *is* the time. Your detention will be extended by twenty minutes."

Again, Harry was unruffled. "Right. Sorry, Professor. What am I to do, then?" he asked. The room was slightly chilly, and Harry knew the best way to get his robes off was to change that, but he had to wait for an opportunity. Snape looked utterly delicious in his uptight black coat. He'd already removed his robes, making it easier to see the form of his body beneath the form-fitting clothes.

Snape swept around the desk, pointing at the floor where Draco's potion had spilled. It was stained a noxious brown colour. "You'll begin by cleaning that," he said with relish. "I want it spotless. No magic. It could interact with the residue."

Harry looked down at the floor. "No magic? Can I take my robes off so I don't get them dirty?" he asked, improvising on the spot. He saw that there was already a bucket and a scrub brush at the ready.

Snape just blinked for a moment, then in a slightly strangled voice he said, "You may." Then he turned away, settling at his desk and marking a scroll of parchment.

Harry struggled to hide a grin. He unbuttoned his robes and shed them quickly, draping them respectfully over a chair. He took the bucket and the scrub brush and got down on all fours on the floor, facing away from his professor. He set to work scrubbing, wishing he could see Snape's face.

Snape's quill wasn't moving on the parchment, and his eyes were definitely not on the work in front of him. His expression was unreadable. After a moment he closed his eyes, and when he opened them he didn't look up, only at the paper he was marking.

Harry heard the long silence followed by the frenetic scratching of quill on parchment and he smiled. He started humming a little tune as he scrubbed the floor dutifully. He crawled backwards a little to get every edge of the stain. It took him a good half an hour, but when he was satisfied that it was clean, he kneeled up and stretched his back, looking over his shoulder. "Did you want to inspect my work, Professor?" he asked sweetly.

Snape looked at bit flushed as he hesitated. Then he stood quickly and strode around to where Harry had been working. He peered at the floor, clearly looking for any imperfection, but finally he said, "Right. Well, since you're so good at scrubbing, I think you should have a go at the tabletops next."

Harry sighed a little, but he wasn't going to let a little hard work discourage him. "No problem. I'm used to housekeeping," he said tartly, reminding Snape of his less than ideal home situation. He knew he wouldn't get any sympathy, but that didn't mean he didn't want it.

"I'm so glad you're agreeable," Snape said dangerously. "I wasn't asking for your acquiescence. Now get to work." He turned and walked into the potions storeroom.

Harry started to scrub the first table, but the suds had gone flat in the now lukewarm water. He glanced at the door to the storeroom. "I'll bet the washing up soap is in there, too," he whispered, a naughty smile curving his lips. He made his way to the storeroom and slipped in the door without knocking.

Snape was leaning against the shelf, looking... Distressed or something of the sort. His head was down, and he apparently hadn't immediately heard Harry enter. He seized advantage of the situation and squeezed in, brushing up against the other man's body. "Excuse me, professor. Is the soap powder in here?" he asked, wiping his arm across his damp forehead.

Snape gasped audibly, eyes wide as he looked up at Harry. "No it's not, Potter. This is the potions storeroom. Now get out before you break something!" His voice was not at all its usual calm purr. It held a tinge of desperation, and he tried to move away from the boy's body.

Harry felt like a shark smelling blood. He reached up and put his hand lightly on Snape's shoulder. "Are you all right, Professor Snape? You look a little... Pale." He didn't move away. He knew he wasn't going to break anything.

Snape actually broke out into a sweat. "No, I'm not all right, idiot boy. Don't touch me. Get out of here. Now." His voice had dropped even lower, and his hands were in fists at his sides.

Harry looked deeply into his eyes. Even though he'd grown some, he was still shorter than Snape. He brought his other hand up to rest lightly on the other shoulder. "I'm afraid if I leave... You'll pass out or something," he whispered, pressing closer. The tension between them was palpable, and he leaned in just enough so that his body, still warm from manual labor, pressed against the taller man's.

"I won't pass out, I assure you," Snape said, but there was no conviction behind it. He sounded strained and all too human. He didn't move his hands, and he was trembling slightly.

Harry knew he had him on the ropes now. Snape didn't even sound angry any more, and was he...? "But Professor... You're trembling," he breathed. He pressed himself fully against Snape now, knowing he was either going to get what he wanted, or serve detention with Filch for life, or worse. But then he could feel the telltale hardness under Snape's heavy coat, and he knew he was going to win.

Snape let out a moan, and his hands came up to grip Harry's shoulders. "I warned you," he croaked, and, heedless of his own warnings about breaking something, slammed Harry back against the opposite wall. Bottles and jars rattled ominously, but nothing fell, and their aroused bodies pressed together fully. Snape stared into Harry's eyes, panting for a moment, then crushed his mouth to the boy's in a bruising kiss.

Harry whimpered, caught off guard by the ferocity of Snape's reaction. He could feel the shelves digging into his back and he didn't care. His arms slid around Snape's neck as much for balance as affection. But he didn't recoil. He kissed back, opening to him, parting his lips, welcoming him in.

After a few moments, Snape pulled back, panting, skin white as a sheet. "F-forgive me," he breathed, trembling again. "That was... I should not have. Merlin, what have I done?" He sagged back against the far wall, hands over his face.

"No!" Harry said, and launched himself at Snape. He threw his arms around Severus' neck and practically leaped on him, his knees clinging to the other man's hips. He kissed him hard, delving into his mouth like he was possessed.

Snape's hands came up to grasp at Harry's slender hips, kissing back desperately. In this position, their hard cocks ground together, and Snape was soon moaning into the kiss. He pulled back, panting. "Potter. You're my student. A child. I cannot..."

"You can. Severus... You most certainly can. I'll swear an oath or something. One of those unbreakable things that I'll never tell anyone. Please," he gasped. He ducked his head and started sucking wetly at the part of his neck that wasn't hidden beneath collar.

"God..." groaned Snape, head falling back against the shelf with a thunk. "Please.... Potter... Harry... You don't want this..."

"Bloody hell, Severus. Surely you can tell that I do," he panted. "I'm hard as a rock for you. You. No one else. Please. Have pity." He sucked sharply on Snape's neck to punctuate his words. He was crazed with need now, and he knew he was so so close.

Snape was panting now. "It's... not right, you're a child, I'm old enough to be your father, bloody hell, I *hated* your father!" His hands didn't let go of Harry, though.

Harry whimpered. "He was a git to you. Shut up and start taking off some clothes," he panted. He wriggled down from the way he was wrapped around Snape and yanked his t-shirt off over his head. "Tell me you don't want me and I'll stop."

Eyes glued to Harry's perfect upper body, Snape looked uncertain. "How... could you want me? Of all people?" He was visibly aroused, but he didn't move yet.

Harry was panting hard now, but he rolled his eyes. "Fishing for compliments, you snarky git? Your voice makes me want to lick every inch of your body. Your hands... Make me want to tear off my clothes and beg for a touch. Your mouth..." He had to pause and swallow hard. "Your mouth makes me want to kiss you for hours on end. Honestly, does it matter? I am attracted to you. Powerfully attracted." He unbuttoned and unzipped his snug jeans and shoved them down, stepping out of them so that he was standing in the Potions cupboard naked. "This is all the proof I have. I want you so badly it hurts. Please, Severus."

Snape could only stare at Harry, gaze roaming over his gorgeous exposed body and rock hard cock. He didn't protest any more, though. He moaned and reached for the boy, grabbing him by one shoulder and his hair. He pulled him against his still clothed body, looming over him. "Tell me what you want," he growled. "Say it."

Harry finally smiled a little in triumph. He'd wanted this man for as long as he'd realized he wanted men at all. "I want you to fuck me," he said, his voice clear and steady. "I want you to pound your cock into my arse so hard I'm unable to ride a broom for a week." He licked his lips, watching Snape's face for his reaction.

"Oh god," gasped Snape, eyes wide. "I had no idea..." His voice deepened, and he pulled a little on Harry's hair. "You're going to get exactly what you want," he purred, regaining some of his Snape- like composure. He ground his cock against the boy, emphasizing his words.

Harry moaned, too. "You're a difficult man to convince, Severus," he whispered. He started tugging the many buttons of Snape's clothes open. "But I see I have your attention at long last." He gazed into those intense black eyes. "I need you inside me. Please..."

Snape's hands made their way to Harry's backside, touching him possessively. "And have you ever been fucked before, Mr. Potter?" he whispered, his tone like dark silk.

"No." Harry didn't stop undressing the other man. "But... I've done a little... Experimenting on my own. I know what it's like, sort of, and I know what's involved." He was determined, and he wasn't going to let something technical, like virginity, get in his way.

"And you want me to be your first," Snape said, an odd tone to his voice. Harry had succeeded in getting his coat and shirt off now, and the boy was working industriously on his trousers. Meanwhile, the older man was busy touching every part of Harry he could reach.

Harry pushed the formal black trousers down over Snape's slim hips. "I don't know what I can do to be any more obvious. Honestly, if I asked you half as stupid a question, I'm sure you'd be boxing my ears by now." He stepped close and curled his fingers around the other man's cock.

Snape groaned and let his head fall back as Harry touched him. "For once, Mr. Potter, I have to agree with you." He twined his long fingers in the boy's hair and pulled a little. His voice was deep when he spoke again. "So, tell me. Is the savoiur of the wizarding world so kinky that he wishes to be fucked over his Potions professor's desk?"

Harry smiled, lips parted, head tipped back. "Yes, sir, Professor," he whispered. He knew it would be like this. It was exactly as he'd imagined it once he finally got through to the other man. Severus was inherently sexy, and so clearly aching to dominate. It brought out every impulse in Harry to submit. "Please. Anywhere you want me. You can... Do anything to me." He licked his lips.

"Anything?" purred the older man, pulling back on Harry's hair to expose a long column of throat. He leaned down to lick at the pale, soft skin, then bit sharply. He straightened and growled. "What I want is for you to bend over my desk and spread that pretty arse. And do it fast." He released the boy's hair.

Harry whimpered and slipped out of the storeroom without being told again. He scampered to the desk and positioned himself over it, hands flat on the blotter and legs spread wide apart. He was panting hard now, hoping the door was locked. He felt so completely vulnerable, but oh so hard for the sexy Potions master.

Snape followed more leisurely, taking his time and picking up a bottle of oil on the way. He circled the desk, eyeing every inch of Harry, until he stood behind him again. "And how long have you wanted to be in this position, boy? At my mercy, completely helpless, waiting to be fucked?"

Harry had always been a sucker for Snape's voice, and hearing it like this was so much more delicious. "About... A year," he croaked. He arched his back a little. He knew he looked good. In the past year his body had filled out a lot, and he could almost feel Snape's gaze touching him.

"A year?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow. "I had no idea you could show such restraint as to wait this long." He stood behind Harry, and ran one hand down the boy's lovely back. "I shall enjoy every moment of this," he added, voice a little hoarse.

Harry glanced up at him, cheek resting on the desk. "That was the plan, yes," he whispered, shivering a little at the touch. "Do you like making me helpless like this, Severus?"

"At the risk of understatement," Snape said with a smirk and pressed his hard cock against Harry's cleft, "Yes." He rubbed against Harry and continued, "I never would have thought that mouth so appealing. Do continue to tell me what you have fantasized about." He opened the oil.

Harry felt a shiver of pleasure to know that Snape would actually admit to liking something about him. He hoped to hear more of that soon. "Oh I've wanked off to loads of fantasies about you. Hiding under your desk and sucking you off during a class full of first years... Being invited back to your private quarters and having hot dirty sex all night in your bed... And... Kinkier things than that." He felt his face grow warm at the mention of those thoughts.

Snape moaned and thrust against Harry. "I had no idea such thoughts were in that pretty little head," he whispered as he slipped one slick finger inside Harry. "Please, do tell me more."

Harry gasped when that first long finger breached his entrance. He bore down and arched his back some more, offering his body up to the older man. "You want to hear all the filthy things I've imagined you doing to me, Severus? How I've dreamt of being taken over your knee and spanked like a naughty child until we were both so hard and needy your fingers slid inside me like they're doing right now?" His heart was thudding loudly in his ears, but this was so hot. "How I've secretly wanted you to hurt me, then fuck me like a dirty little whore, then feel your arms around me, comforting me?" His mouth was dry and he licked his lips again.

"Fuck, Harry..." It was too much for Snape; his composure was shattered. He had two fingers inside Harry, but now he pulled them out and oiled his cock hurriedly. He was panting as he spread Harry open with one hand, and directed his cock inside him with the other. "Try to relax," he snarled. "My little whore..." Then he thrust in, gasping. "Mine..."

Hearing his name in that voice, especially dripping with lust as it was now, nearly finished him off right then. But he held on and was rewarded with Snape's cock plunging into him deeply. He let out an involuntary moan, bearing down. Other than that, all he could do was lie there and take it. He was hyper aware of everything around him, Severus' thighs pressing against the backs of his own, the coarse wood of the desk beneath his palms; even the other man's ragged breathing seemed amplified. And that word. That word stuck in his head. "Mine." He couldn't get his mind around that but he knew he would at some point in the future. "Yours," he agreed hoarsely.

Thrusting in gently but insistently, Snape gained speed and strength. "How does it feel, Mr. Potter? To have my cock up your famous arse? What would the world think if they knew Harry Potter was spreading his legs for Severus Snape?" The deep voice was tight with barely checked need. He gripped Harry's hips tightly.

"I... I don't imagine... The world would... Care that much," he choked out. He thought if anyone knew they might think Snape had bewitched him somehow, but it seemed an indelicate observation at that moment. More to the point, he wondered if his father was spinning in his grave. But Harry didn't care what anyone else thought about it. Severus was the one he wanted, not because he was rebelling, not because of any psychological quirk. He could imply see past the snarky, cold persona to the passionate, sexy man beneath.

"You'd be surprised. I wish they could see you now," Snape ground out, snapping his hips to drive deeper into Harry. "See you taking my cock... begging for it... helpless..." Snape's voice was thick with lust, and he reached down to wrap long fingers around the boy's straining cock.

Harry whimpered, eyes closing. Snape was beautiful like this, strong and confident and growly. "Oh gods, yes, Severus. I want you to... Do everything... To me... With me..." He was trembling now and his lithe young body gripped at Severus' cock tightly. "I... I'm gonna... Oh fuck... Feels so..."

Snape sped up his strokes and his thrusts. "Take it, Harry... take everything I give you..." he gasped, head falling back in ecstasy. "Scream for me..."

Harry let go, screaming Severus' name as an orgasm like none he'd ever felt ripped through his body. As he was held helpless in its thrall, he wondered vaguely if there was something magical about their frantic coupling. It seemed to last forever, and he shook with unrestrained tremors of ecstasy.

Snape never wavered, continuing his relentless thrusts until he too cried out, more quietly but no less violently. He gasped as he pulsed inside Harry, moaning his name until he slumped boneless on top of him.

Harry felt inordinately comforted by the warmth and weight of Snape's body. As his breathing gradually slowed, he smiled. "Mmm," he said, unable to form anything more coherent.

Slowly, gently, Snape pulled out of Harry, placing a hand proprietarily on his back as he stood beside him. "Are you all right?" he asked softly, his silky voice holding an uncharacteristic note of uncertainty.

Harry pushed himself up on his arms, still smiling. "All right doesn't quite cover it," he said, he own voice a little rough from the experience. He stood, wincing a little, his body yet unused to the pleasing soreness. "Are you... Was it... Worth it?" he asked. He knew Snape was taking quite a risk.

Snape reached out and pulled Harry into his arms. After a moment, he said, eyes lowered, "I have never had such a purely pleasurable experience. It was worth any amount of repercussions." He looked into Harry's eyes. "If you ever... want to do it again..."

Harry beamed at him. He reached up and tucked an errant strand of lank black hair back from Snape's face. "I feel another detention coming on very soon. Perhaps tomorrow?" There was something about Snape's demeanor that made Harry simply want to hold the man all night, tell him how beautiful he was. But he was certain Snape would laugh at that. "I am a very, very naughty boy, after all."

Snape's thin lips curved into a wicked smile. "That you are, Potter. Seducing your professor is quite a serious offence. Punishment is no doubt warranted." His hands slipped down Harry's naked back.

Harry grinned. "And you're just the man for the job," he said quietly. He leaned up on tiptoe and kissed Severus on the lips again, holding onto his shoulders for balance. "Thank you for trusting me."

Snape's eyes closed briefly, then he opened them and gazed at Harry. "I do not trust easily," he said quietly. "But you have given me a reason to trust." He bent his head and kissed the boy once more.

Harry wrapped his arms around Snape's slender body, holding him firmly. He kissed back, though less desperately than the first time. When he pulled back, he smiled again. "Same time tomorrow, then?" he asked.

Snape answered with a smirk. "Indeed. When will you ever learn to behave, Mr. Potter?"

Harry laughed, pulling back. "We may never know, professor." He winked and went to get his clothes from the storeroom. He got dressed and made his way back to the tower, and no one was any the wiser.