Disclaimer: Messrs Potter & Riddle are the intellectual property of JK Rowling. Later on, I intend to sell Riddle's diary; proceeds will be used to purchase at least the aforementioned characters.
Hot. Heavy. Suffocating. He felt like a lemon, caught between fingers and a palm, slowly being wrung dry. A whimper almost left him as the hand unclenched. He swallowed and then breathed in, only to choke on a sob as he was pushed further up against the wall, crushed between cold stone and a hard body, hot breaths ghosting over his neck.
"Professor—Harry—" Please.
"Yes?"
"Touch me. Take me. Fuck me."
The kiss burned and he melted, a candle put too close to the fire place. His mind was spinning, the breaths inhaled through the nose not enough to calm him as he was lifted off the ground, the toe of one shoe barely scraping the floor. He rut against his professor as his leg was hooked around a hip, a hand travelling up and down the smooth planes of his thigh.
"Fuck—yes! Oh—please! Fuck—!"
Then all thoughts were knocked out of him as he was slammed once, twice, thrice against the wall; he was released just as one hard pinch was administered to the back of his thigh. The mouth crushed against his swallowed his cry.
Professor Potter stepped back from him, chuckling darkly as he evaded the spit aimed at his eye.
"You'll do well to learn not to accost me in the hallways again, Tom."
His anger dissolved at the look he received over one cold shoulder, and his hand flew to press down between his legs, the other moving to where he knew a bruise was developing.
You know where and when to find me.
He moaned.