There was something about Severus Snape's voice; the husky velveteen texture to it sent chills throughout him. It gripped him and held him.
Harry Potter didn't find potions so unbearable anymore, well he did but for a whole new reason. As apposed to being furious for the entire class he was ridiculously hard. Snape was still torturing him but he didn't seem to even know what he was doing to the boy.
Harry shifted in his seat. He was so uncomfortable, his pants where far to loose to give him any friction and both his hands where required for the damn potion.
He chopped at the roots erratically his mind not on the task, his eyes glued to the man sitting at the desk in the front of the room. Harry doubted anyone but him had noticed but Snape traced patterns as he wrote, Harry could almost feel those long slender fingers tracing those patterns up his spine.
A sharp pain coming from his palm shocked him out of his reverie, and surprisingly had him even harder; he had to suppress a moan.
For a second he thought he had failed to hold it in until he realized that it hadn't come from him. He looked up to dark lust glazed eyes.
Severus Snape was staring at his hand. Watching the crimson ribbons of blood twist their way along his palm and down his wrist.
Somewhere in Harry's mind the screaming registered and he wondered at the pointed canines protruding from the older man's mouth but it wasn't a very big part so he sat and waited for the man to get to him.
Harry knew they where alone, the room was now silent and empty except for them and Harry's raspy breaths as Snape took his hand in his own and ran his tongue up the boy's palm, collecting the cooling liquid. Severus Snape growled deep within his throat and pulled Harry roughly into his arms. In four great strides he was at his desk, which was cleared with one swipe of his arm.
It was then that Snape claimed his lips it was harsh and brutal and everything Harry had ever dreamed it would be it had an intensity he had never imagined though. The way Snape's tongue curled possessively around his own and the copper taste of his own blood.
Blood
Snape broke the kiss as his hand slid down into Harry's pants, his hand ghosted around the boy's erection, ignoring it. Instead a finger was pushed sharply inside him. Harry cried out in pain, and a strange sort of pleasure at the intrusion.
It was unlike anything else
As the pain abated his pants where pulled all the way down and another finger shoved deep inside of him, but this time the dark man above him began to kiss along the boys neck every now and then he would drag his teeth swiftly along the smooth tanned skin and suck feverishly at the cut it left behind. By the time the third finger was added Harry had began to shift (as much as he could) against the intrusions, it was ecstasy and yet so unfulfilled he wanted more he wanted so much more.
Harry whined wantonly gasping and whimpering nothing in particular but his request was obvious.
The man grinned and in one a sharp thrust of the hips he entered him
Harry cried out, the pain was immense but perfect
All perfect so perfect, Snape moving inside him was perfect the man's large hand encircling his cock was perfect. The sharp pain as the vampire's teeth slid into his neck was perfect.
There was only thing more powerful then the pleasure Harry felt and that was the pain, but that was okay because it was right.
The way it should be
The word masochist fled briefly across Harry's mind but he didn't notice it he couldn't
… And the pain began to fade, faster and faster till all there was, was the pleasure and a peaceful numbness, Harry came but he hardly noticed the sensation the numbness was settling like a dark cloud over him.
Till nothing was left but those eyes imprinted within his brain, wanting, needing, taking.
Snape came with a moan falling down against the boy below him.
Then it all came clear.
It had taken over; Snape scrunched his eyes shut 'no!' Snape had never lost control and especially not over something as trivial and minor as a cut hand. Why now? Why that boy?
That boy
He raised himself onto his knees to look down into the wide gaping eyes
Harry Potter dead age 16
