Title: Homework and Quills
Pairing: Percy/Snape
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Percy is called back after class...and forgets that Snape can read minds.
A/N: For Dana!
Words: 1,042
Disclaimer: Characters and such are not mine. The love and time put into it, however, are!
Potions.
The vilest of vile subjects.
And yet, here I am, sitting in front of the very potions master himself. After the rest of the class got dismissed, no less.
"I suppose you'd like to know why I've kept you here," Snape says. I cast him a glare from the corner of my eye.
"Yes," I mumble, staring a hole into the concrete of the floor beneath me.
"Yes, sir," he snaps. I roll my eyes. "This is unlike you, Mr. Weasley. You've been acting a bit strange during my classes lately. Have an explanation?"
"If I do, I'm not about to tell it to you," I say. He's right—I've been a bit out of character lately. Rolling my eyes, glaring—most unlike me. Snape pauses, closing his eyes for a moment as he stares down at me.
"Broke up with your little boyfriend, have you?" he questions. I look up at him, astonished, before reminding myself that he is impeccable in the art of occlumency.
"So what if I did?" I snap, returning my gaze to the ground letting my mind wander once more. Snape. Snape…like nape. You know, the nape of your neck? God, what I'd give to kiss the nape of Snape's neck right now.
Wait.
What did I just think!
No.
No way.
"Is that so, Percy?" Snape teases, a smirk etched into his features. I look up at him, my eyes wide and my jaw slightly lower than usual. I immediately decide that the subject needs to be changed.
"Erm…Professor…was there any homework today?" I ask. He smirks once more, walking towards me with a swish of his cloak. "Professor…what are you doing?" My eyes grow, if possible, wider as he stops in front of me. My fingers fiddle with the zipper of my backpack, which is laying flat on my lap.
"I have a deal for you, Percy," he says. I shudder and raise an eyebrow.
"…Deal?" I ask, looking at him apprehensively.
"You do everything I tell you to for the next, oh, say…fifteen minutes, or else I'll fail you in potions," he says, that famous smirk making a reappearance. I furrow my eyebrows.
"…Like what?" My fingers are still fiddling with the same zipper. He gives me this evil grin that says something like, 'Oh, you don't want to know.'
"Anything I say. Now, do we have a deal, Weasley?" he says, his voice calm yet forceful. I look up at him, a bit worried. No—very, very, very worried.
"Um…" I mutter. He raises an eyebrow.
"I asked you a question, Weasley. Do we have a deal, or not?" he repeats. I slowly, nervously nod my head, and he smirks once more before turning to the door and muttering a proper silencing spell. "Good."
Snape smirks and covers the last of the distance between us, straddling me awkwardly.
"Erm…Professor…I think you're squishing my quills," I mutter. He glares.
"Speak of your quills again, Weasley, and I'll shove them up your arse," he snaps. I shudder—that would actually be quite painful. I almost grin at myself, but I decide not to since Snape has now placed his mouth just centimeters away from mine.
"Professor? W-what are you doing?" I ask, my eyes wide. He smirks and trails his lips to my jaw line and then down the side of my neck. I gulp, suppressing a moan. He sucks gently on the skin near the base of my neck before quickly pulling away and clashing his lips onto mine. I don't respond at first, but when his tongue pokes at my lips, it's hard not to. I separate my lips for his tongue, which meets mine halfway. Said tongue massages my tongue before pulling away quickly and standing up. I stare at him, the question practically in bold print on my face. He smirks and sinks down to his knees.
"Pull down your pants, Weasley," he demands. I gulp again before clumsily un-belting my belt, un-snapping my snap, and un-zipping my zipper. I'm even clumsier, though, as I push my pants halfway down my thighs. "Whitey-tighties eh, Weasley? Somehow, I figured you to be more of a boxers-type of guy, though I don't have a clue as to why."
A heavy blush dusts my cheeks as I stare down at my potion's master, who is smirking evilly.
"Briefs too," he commands. He watches intently as I slowly, hesitantly, push down the afore mentioned briefs to reveal a very, very hard member. "Natural redhead."
"Erm…did you doubt it, Professor?"
"Course not. Seen you showering plenty of ti—oh, bloody hell," he mumbles, an odd look on his face. I stare.
"You've…seen me…sh-showering, Professor?" I ask. He smirks.
"But of course, Weasley. I had to be prepared, don't you think?" he says before taking the whole of me in his mouth all at once. I moan, loud enough that, if it weren't for the silencing spells placed on the walls and door, it could be heard probably up at the Great Hall, where all of my classmates are eating their lunches. "Easily pleased, are we?"
I frown down at him as he continues to move his mouth far from delicately around my erection, causing another moan to draw itself from my mouth. I can feel his smirk as he runs his tongue up and down the side of my member, torturing me half to an orgasm. I moan once more and, finally, he takes me completely in his mouth again, sucking erotically.
My hands are clasped onto the arms of the wooden chair and my head is tilted back slightly, eyes closed and mouth open. Snape sucks harder, and then harder yet. My response is one long, drawn out moan that is almost more like a groan, but he doesn't seem to care.
The next five minutes is something of a blur, and all I remember are the key elements.
He sucks harder. I orgasm, and my erection spills white liquid all over my pants and a bit on his cloak. He stands up, smirking at me oddly.
"I want a fifteen-inch parchment on my desk tonight, ten o'clock sharp, about why you shouldn't think dirty thoughts about a teacher that can read minds."