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Severus paced back and forth in his rooms, waiting for curfew. He wanted Harry and he wanted him now, but he had to wait at least until Harry was safely ensconced in his hangings before calling him. No matter how badly Severus wanted to just vanish him from the library, or the common room, or wherever he was, he had to wait. So, he paced, and at around half-past eight, he poured himself a scotch, and paced with that.
He wondered if Harry was celebrating with his team. He might be. They had absolutely stomped Slytherin, which was probably why Harper tried to knock Harry off of his broom in the first place. Harper was such a sore loser.
Severus felt his face heat as he recalled the stab of fear that had propelled him to his feet as he saw his seeker foul Harry a full thirty meters above the ground. Merlin, was he a spy, or wasn’t he? Harry Potter was going to get him killed someday if he couldn't figure out how to control his reactions. It was bad enough he could hardly look at the boy without wanting him on his back - but leaping out of his seat in terror? In front of his entire house? Fucking pathetic.
And that catch at the end.
Stellar.
Harry was such an athlete.
Severus knocked back the last of the scotch in his glass and looked at the clock. Maybe he could just… ask for him.
He touched his wand to his bracelet.
“Are you busy?”
[Yep]
Severus narrowed his eyes as he read that. Yep? he thought. How dismissive.
“Are you? My apologies, your majesty.”
[Oh, well. If you’re going to be like that I could probably escape]
“Do.”
Severus poured himself another two fingers and waited, thinking about Harry holding the snitch above his head in triumph over the roars of his classmates, and the way his eyes had sought Severus out in the crowd, alighting on him for just a moment. Then he thought about the noise Harry had made the first time he’d ever had Severus’ cock in his mouth, and how he’d looked on his knees the day before term started . And then, he was feeling very impatient indeed.
It took about fifteen minutes for [ready] to appear in shining silver on his wrist, and when it did, he went straight into the bedroom before calling. He wasn’t particularly in the mood for wooing or foreplay. He was more in the mood for making Harry regret being so fucking excellent at Quidditch, and for making Harry come all over himself and call him, ‘Sir.’ That was what he was in the mood for.
“Chimera,” he said, and Harry appeared before him with red and gold confetti in his hair. He was flushed, and somehow still windswept like he’d just come off the pitch. He was gorgeous, in short, despite the Gryffindor litter currently sprinkling down onto his carpet.
“Hullo, Severus,” Harry said airily. “How’d you like the match?”
Severus just raised an eyebrow at his tone, and Harry walked right over to him and plucked the glass out of his hands.
“Oh,” he said. “You look angry.” He took a swallow and then wiped the corner of his mouth like there was an errant drop of scotch there. The gesture was transparent, and calculated, and irritating, and so deeply sexual that Severus very nearly blushed. If Severus was in the mood to punish Harry for his athletic prowess, Harry appeared to be in the mood to be punished. “Did I embarrass your precious Slytherins?”
Yes, he certainly was. He probably wanted the belt.
He’d seemed to like that quite a lot.
Severus took the glass back, placed it on his bedside table, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Welcome back, Wizard Prince,” he said, and Harry pursed his lips, triggering a new little flare of fury in Severus’ chest. Harry was just so good at this. He was so good at being a lovely, brazen, infuriating, untouchable little brat. It was like a calling. But, then… he wasn’t really untouchable, was he? Not for Severus, at least. Severus touched him quite a lot, in fact. He’d had him over the dining table only seventy-two hours before. Bent over the table, and begging.
“Oh, don’t be mad,” Harry answered with an arrogant scoff. “It’s not my fault Malfoy didn’t show up to his own match. Not that he would have made much difference.”
Harry had been very obedient the last time he’d come, but he did not seem to be in such a submissive mood tonight. But that could be fixed. Severus rather liked fixing that non-problem, in fact, and when Harry moved to brush past him, he grabbed his wrist.
“Potter,” he said, squeezing hard, and Harry’s cocky expression flickered like a candle. It was back in full force in less than a second, but that was enough. He wants to submit, and he wants you to make him.
“Am I ‘Potter’ because I won?” He wants you to hurt him.
Severus took hold of him by the hair, scattering a little shower of red and gold rubbish to the floor. “Sparks,” he demanded, and Harry shot red sparks towards the ceiling, his head tilted back by Severus’ grip. “Good. Get on your knees.”
“Make me,” Harry answered. He was still grinning, and, in his eyes, Severus could see his mad excitement and the lingering rush of his victory. “If you think you can.” There was a beat of silence, as Severus absorbed this new provocation.
‘Make me,’ he was used to. ‘Make me,’ he heard quite a lot. But, ‘If you think you can?’ Harry must want to be black and blue before he left again. Pity he thought he had to make Severus angry to get what he wanted. As if Severus wouldn’t call down the moon and hand it to him if that was what he asked for.
“I see,” Severus answered evenly, taking Harry’s glasses off his face and pulling him towards the bed. “Do you really think I don’t know what you’re doing?”
“I think you do know,” Harry breathed, stumbling back as he struggled to follow the tug of Severus’ hand in his hair. “You’re smart, right? You - oh.” His knees hit the edge of the bed, and Severus turned him around and pressed him down onto it, face first.
“Stay,” he hissed, and stood back, and Harry immediately disobeyed, propping himself up and turning around to sit on the edge of the mattress. Severus raised his eyebrows.
“What part of ‘make me’ is unclear to you?” Harry asked, leaning back on his hands and looking up at Severus through his eyelashes. “Sir.”
There was a ringing in Severus’ ears. Punish him. Make him scream.
But then, another thought.
Are you so easy to control? At least make him work for it if he wants to play so hard.
He stepped forward to stand between Harry’s spread legs, and took hold of his jaw. “My, my,” he began. “How hostile. You must have really enjoyed beating my house to be speaking to me like that.” He turned Harry’s head to the side like he was inspecting him, which he was. Harry was truly excellent to look at. “I think five will do.”
“Five what?” Harry asked, and jerked his head out of Severus’ grasp, sitting back a little further to slide the toe of his sneaker up Severus’ calf. “Reprimands? House points?” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Detentions?”
Make him scream.
Severus scoffed, and then slashed his wand through the air, knocking Harry onto his back on the bed. “Novis,” he snarled, and Harry gave an indignant yelp as he was flipped onto his stomach. “Evanesco.” His clothes vanished. “Incarcerous. There. That’s a little better, isn’t it?”
Harry’s hands flexed where they were tied behind his back, and goosebumps prickled across his naked skin. Severus could see his toes dig into the carpet, too, and wondered if he was already hard. He might be. He’d gotten hard pretty fast when confronted with Severus’ violence before, after all.
“Five what?” Harry asked again, all bravado abruptly gone from his voice. He sounded quite strangled, really.
Severus didn’t answer right away. Instead, he raised his hands to his belt and unbuckled it, letting the metal fastenings clink together for Harry to hear.
“I think you know,” he answered, sliding it free. “It’s what you’re asking for, isn’t it?”
“Oh,” Harry whispered. “Yes, please.” He turned his face into the sheets.
See? He wants it. Give him what he wants. Give it to him.
Doubling the heavy leather, Severus trailed the smooth side up the inside of Harry’s right thigh, all the way to the top, and his toes curled again like he was seeking purchase in the rug.
“Would you like me to hit you?”
“Yes,” Harry answered breathlessly, and Severus leaned over him to jerk his head up off the blankets. Harry yelped and pressed his lips together.
“Wrong answer,” Severus purred.
“Oh - God - I’m sorry,” Harry began, a little tremor in his voice. “Sir. I meant - Sir. Yes, Sir.”
“Ten.” He let Harry’s head drop back to the bed. It wasn’t a very polite thing to do, especially not while Harry couldn’t use his hands to break his fall. “Try again.”
“Yes, please… Sir?” Harry asked, his voice muffled by the blankets.
“Better. I want you to count for me. Will you do that?”
“Yes, Sir.” Severus raised his arm and brought the belt down. “Oh fuck - Uh… One?”
“There’s my good boy.” He hit him again, a little harder, and a little lower, and Harry jerked and cried out.
“Two,” he said, and then, as another blow landed, “three - fuck - fuck. Three.” His trapped hands fisted, flexed back open, and tangled together, and Severus ran his fingertips down Harry’s wrists, over the ropes, and his hands, and then down over his tailbone to the developing welts. Harry gasped and flinched back from the soft touch, and Severus hit him again, harder still. That time Harry didn’t say a number, though. He said something else, and Severus stopped.
“What was that?” he asked, and when Harry didn’t answer, gave him a swat with his hand. “Speak up, Potter.”
Harry turned his head to look back at Severus over his shoulder. His eyes were hooded, and his color was high, and he didn’t look at all like the kind of boy that would say, ‘make me, if you can,’ to Severus Snape. He looked like the kind of boy that would say, ‘Sir,’ and, ‘please,’ and…
“More,” Harry repeated.
A pulse of heat bloomed in Severus’ belly. “More?” he asked.
Harry just nodded against the mattress and spread his legs a little wider. “Please.”
Mercy, I am going to destroy him.
“As you wish.”
Severus gave him more. More force. More impact. More pain. And Harry counted more loudly.
“Five!” It came out like a demand. “Six - fuck - Severus-” His shoulders tensed up, and his hands twisted, and he dug his face into the sheets, muffling his own voice. “Severus - please-”
“Please what?” Severus asked. “Are you trying to tell me to stop? You can, if you like. You can even beg me, if it pleases you.”
The belt cracked as it made contact and Harry let out a flood of profanity, and then, right at the end, after a deep and unsteady breath, “s-seven.” He was panting, his mouth open, and his whole body was flushed pink. “I’m not - telling you - anything - Sir,” he finally managed.
“How polite.” Severus leaned over to press a kiss to his spine, damp with sweat. “How’s the contact, Potter?” he murmured. “Hard enough for you?” Harry just shivered and let out a very endearing little squeak. “That sounds like a no to me.”
The next two were very hard, indeed, but still, Harry did not scream. And Severus rather wanted him to. So, after a moment’s consideration, he withdrew his wand and blew a stream of cool air over the welts, already speckled purple and red, and then, just as Harry tensed up, raked his nails over them.
Harry liked fingernails. Yes he did.
“Jesus,” he gasped. “Harder.” Severus did it again, on the other side, and before Harry could so much as draw breath, hit him one more time, the hardest yet, and that did it. He screamed. Screamed his name, no less.
Unbearable.
Severus seized his tied hands and dragged him off the bed and onto the floor, and he went obediently, almost gratefully to his knees, hiding his face against the edge of the mattress.
“Number,” Severus demanded. It took Harry a moment to answer.
“...ten?”
“Relashio.” The restraints fell away and Harry sagged a little as his hands were released. “Turn around so I can see you. Stay on your knees.”
“Sir,” Harry murmured, and very slowly shifted to face him. He kept his eyes closed, and spread his thighs a little as he settled in. He was hard, as Severus knew he would be, his cock curving up towards his belly and leaving a smear of precum on his skin.
“Well,” Severus began. “That really turns you to putty, doesn’t it? You incredible deviant.” He said it expecting Harry to protest, to talk back, to offer some fire, but he didn’t say anything at all. “Mm.” He tipped Harry’s chin up with the belt. “Look at that beautiful face.”
Harry still did not speak. He just inhaled, and his lips parted, and his eyes stayed resolutely closed.
It was so… trusting.
How could he be so trusting?
“I’ve never met anyone quite like you,” Severus continued, tilting his head to the side with the stiff leather. Harry obeyed the touch at once, and the tips of his ears pinked. He seemed to like that, too. The scrutiny, or the praise. Something. “You must have been sent straight from heaven to satisfy my every whim.” Severus tossed the belt out of the way to free his hands. “I’m going to fuck your mouth, now. Would you like that?”
Harry nodded his head yes, and then rested his hands on his thighs like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. His obedience was almost painful.
Severus swallowed.
“You can touch yourself,” he said, moving to undo his trousers. “You were quite a sight that first time. Spilling in your own hand, down on your knees. Like you couldn’t help it. Lovely.” Harry licked his lips and then worried the bottom one with his teeth, and Severus paused. Obedience was one thing, but silence? Usually he had more to say. Maybe Severus was pushing too hard. “Harry,” he said. “Sparks?” Harry didn’t do anything at all, so Severus took hold of his jaw. “Open your eyes.” Nothing. He dug his fingers in and hardened his voice. “Harry. I want to see your eyes. Now, please.” Finally, Harry did as he was told, and when he met Severus’ gaze, his pupils dilated, and his cock twitched between his legs.
Oh, he likes it. He likes everything. Fuck his mouth.
Come on, Severus. You don’t know that. Ask him again. Make him say it.
Give him an out. He might not know how to say no.
“Do you want me to use you?” Severus asked, watching as Harry’s cheeks flushed red with what might have been embarrassment. “If you want it, say it. If you don’t, I won’t.”
Harry swallowed hard, but he didn’t close his eyes, though it was clear he would have liked to. Instead, his gaze danced anxiously from Severus’ face to his cock, right at mouth-level, hard, and dark, and right there, and then back to his face.
“Go on,” Severus continued. “Tell me what you want. I want to hear it. Tell me.”
“I want you to - use me,” Harry finally said, and at the look in his eyes, Severus squeezed his jaw a little tighter to make him focus.
“Pay attention, Harry. Sparks or I send you away.”
Harry raised his right hand from his thigh and directed a shower of red sparks off to the side. “Sir,” he said again, and closed his eyes.
“What a treasure,” Severus answered. “Open up, now.” Harry spread his knees wider and let out a little whimper as Severus pressed into his mouth, and Severus’ hips twitched forward of their own accord at the sound. He really was like something out of a fever dream. “Go on, Harry. Touch yourself,” he continued. “I know how much you want to. I can see how hard you are.” Hard enough for a bead of precome to be dripping down his shaft. “No need to be shy.”
Harry whimpered again, and began to stroke himself, and Severus took hold of his head with both hands.
“Look at you,” he purred. “Wider.” Harry opened his mouth wider, and seized Severus’ leg with his free hand, and Severus began to pulse into his mouth. He stayed shallow for a while, even as Harry made a frustrated noise like he wanted more, because Severus was not going to give him more just yet. Harry got comfortable so quickly it made Severus suspicious. For someone with so little experience, it seemed impossible. Like an act. But then, as he watched Harry working himself with his fist, he wondered. If Harry really was that comfortable, or if he really did enjoy his discomfort as much as he seemed to, why not? He was being such a good boy.
So, Severus gave him a little more, and Harry took it, and after a moment, his eyes flicked up, and he whined. And that… was compelling. Fucking devastating, if Severus was being honest with himself.
Give it to him. He wants it. Fuck his mouth.
“Sparks if it’s too much,” Severus breathed, tightening his fingers and pressing Harry’s head back against the edge of the bed, pinning him. Harry’s eyes squeezed tight shut for a fraction of a second, and when they opened again his gaze was fearless, and the hand around his cock began to pump up and down more earnestly.
His meaning was quite clear.
Yes.
Yes.
More.
Severus exhaled slowly through his mouth. “Do you like that?” he asked, and thrust in hard, before backing away just enough for Harry to moan, if he wanted to. And he did moan. Wretchedly. “You do.”
He began to move faster, thrusting harder, rather wanting to see how much Harry could take. And, as it turned out, he could take quite a lot. He could take it pretty deep, and he could take it pretty hard, and pretty fast, and by the time Severus was close to the edge, Harry’s hips were flexing up into his own fist, and his cock was leaking, and his mouth was red and wet and swollen, and his fingernails were digging hard into the back of Severus’ thigh like he was afraid Severus might try to stop. But Severus wasn’t going to stop. He was going to come, and soon, right down Harry’s throat.
“You’re going to take - everything I give you,” he growled. “Do you understand me?” Harry’s fingernails dug in deeper. “You’re going to swallow every - drop.”
Harry made a little choked sound in the back of his throat, and dragged his fingernails down the back of Severus’ thigh, hard, and all at once, he was spurting over his fingers, and Holy Mother of God, Severus hadn’t realized how close he was.
“Oh -” he gasped, driving in harder. “Fuck - ” He held tight to Harry’s head, fucking his mouth feverishly, as deep as he could get, hitting the back of his throat, and he felt it as Harry’s gag reflex clutched around him, and as Harry fought to control it, and as Harry tensed like he was trying to press himself back but couldn’t. And then Harry’s hands dropped weakly into his lap, and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back, wasn’t it? That submission. “Holy - god-” Severus fell forward, bracing his hands on the bedspread, pinning Harry’s head mercilessly back into the mattress and holding it there as his hips jerked through his spasms of pleasure. And still Harry did not so much as tug at him. He just… took it. “Oh,” Severus panted, his knees going weak. “God.”
There was a frozen moment of absolute, incredible bliss as Harry swallowed around him, before Severus’ brain turned back on and he realized that had probably been a little too much. He pulled out, and staggered back, and Harry, released, immediately collapsed forward onto his hands, coughing and gasping.
A little too much?
Severus caught himself on the wall and stared down at Harry shuddering on his hands and knees, struggling to catch his breath .
What were you thinking? Lord in heaven that was WAY too much. Just fucking pin his head to the bed until he passes out why don’t you. Merlin - say something, Severus. You idiot. Fix it.
“Potter,” he began, raking his hair back from his face and pulling up his trousers. “Harry. I’m sorry. Was that…?” Too hard? Stupid thing to ask. “Did I…?” Hurt you? STUPID. Fucking Hell get it together.
Harry swallowed, coughed, and swallowed again, and then slumped back against the bed with his eyes closed. His breath was ragged, and his mouth was open, and he didn’t say anything at all.
“Harry - ” Severus tried again, and shifted his weight. Get him off the floor at least. Oh, he’s starting to shake. Get him off the floor.
He crouched down.
“Harry,” he said gently, brushing his hair back from his forehead and wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Up, now. Onto the bed.” He took hold of him under the arms, and dragged him onto the mattress. Harry didn’t resist at all. He just went, sprawling out onto his back and then curling up into a ball, and Severus stripped off his own clothes, and laid down with him. “Come on. Let me warm you up.” He summoned a blanket, pulled Harry into his arms, and covered them both. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, smoothing his hands over Harry’s back, and the back of his neck, and into his hair, and down his sides.
“W-w-why s-sorry?” Harry murmured, turning his face into Severus’ chest. “Was I n-n-not good?”
Severus’ hands stilled. ‘Was I not good?’ What sort of question was that? What he should be asking is, ‘why did you do that?’ or, ‘what is wrong with you?’ Or something. Merlin.
“No, you were perfect,” he answered slowly. “Such a good boy.” He resumed his stroking.
“W-why sorry th-then?” Harry’s hands came up to Severus’ sides, and then under his arms and around his back. His fingertips were cold, but the shaking was subsiding. Not so long, that time. That was good, at least. Severus held him a little closer.
“I thought maybe I…” he trailed off, frowned, and started again. “That wasn’t too much?”
“Mm, no,” Harry answered. “It was…a lot, but…” His fingers pressed into Severus’ back and then relaxed, and then his whole body relaxed. Melted, really. “It was good. Was… really good. Thank you.”
Severus kissed the top of his head.
Not too hard, then. Not too much.
He… liked it.
He said… ‘thank you.’
Hm.
~fin~