The Detention Chronicles
III
10:17 p.m.
Robes billowed out behind him, the low clacking of his heels hitting the stone echoing about him as he made his way down the quiet, lifeless corridor.
Surely some insolent and audacious youth was stalking about these corridors,Severus mused sardonically to himself. Ever the vigilant night-stalker himself, he was only too happy to oblige their very strict, inflexible curfew. Certainly a certain golden boy bent on causing mischief was about these corridors, hiding away in a room perhaps?
Severus prided himself on his ability to seek and eradicate those in which believed themselves above rules. Harry Potter was most certainly one of those youths. So above the other lesser students, he believed himself to be. Well, Severus mused internally smirking, not whilst writhing beneath him. He took the utmost pleasure in deflowering everyone's golden boy. Yes, he would destroy every morsel of arrogance in the lithe, lewd body.
Severus stopped himself mid stride to give a look about-images of Potter-boy dancing in his head. Images he could not rid himself of as of late. It was no infatuation. Severus Snape was incapable of infatuation or affection. However, still he could think of nothing except the way Potter felt as he wrapped around him, beaded with sweat and moaning and those emerald eyes flaming with unrestrained lust and rapture.
His lower, distasteful part stirred. Blasted Potter! Severus faulted the boy entirely for his current state. Stalking down the corridor, ignoring the growing heat below, he sought to make the unlucky youth out beyond their curfew pay for his own uncontrollable desires.
When he started pass the astronomy tower, he saw the shadow of a form leaning against the glass paneled window. Marvelous, he celebrated as he stalked forward onto the unsuspecting youth. It was those emerald-green eyes, uncouth locks of raven-black hair hiding away the famous scar, and cheaply-made spectacles that stopped him in his usual lecture. Instead, his previously and not long recovered desire to ravage the boy came to the forefront.
Potter was clad in only a simple white t-shirt and pajama shorts. Certainly the cold of the night would be prickling his flesh. No matter, he thought dismissively. The light clothing would only prove as less of an obstacle for what Severus had planned for the boy.
He was upon the youth, leering down his nose, and pushing the surprised Potter-boy against the glass of the window.
"Breaking your curfew, I see. I should have expected no less of you Potter considering you seem to believe yourself above any instituted rules," Severus hissed. He could feel the boy's arousal and confusion. Potter seemed to have a much desired reaction to their closeness.
"I-," Potter stuttered incoherently. Severus internally cringed. The incessant stuttering was most unwelcome. Deciding it imperative to save himself the headache, Severus leaned forward and brutally stopped those lips, plundering the hot cavern of the boy's mouth and demanding he submit. It did not take long for the Potter-boy to respond in kind. His mouth was inexperienced but willing. He tasted of marmalade and pumpkin juice in which Severus would never admit outwardly or inwardly to finding truly delectable. Nor would he admit to relishing in the eagerness of the boy beneath him as he rid him of his clothes.
Severus turned Potter violently, forcing his hands to splay out against the glass. He admired the tone, sun-kissed rump, kneading the flesh with his hands before spreading it and rubbing his hard length between it. Taking the writhing, lustful beast beneath him was surely to have James Potter rolling in his grave. Severus found himself smirking at the thought and drove himself deep into the boy after no preparation. Potter should be punished for his indiscretion thus received no preparation aside from the lubrication Severus spelled into him just before plowing into the tight body.
Potter was crying out and tightly gripping around Severus' length like a vice. He had to steel himself against the impending orgasm; Severus Snape would never in this life or the next be first to ejaculate. It would be simply outrageous for him to do so. Finding his quick, violent rhythm, the sickening sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed in the small room. Potter was undone and moaning like the wanton youth he was. It intrigued him how truly lustful this child was.
Slamming himself inside the hot and welcoming cavern, he took a moment to enjoy the immeasurable pleasure that ran through him. This was truly the only satisfactory part about the boy, indeed. Biting back a groan, he rammed himself relentlessly into Potter until he could both hear and feel the boy's orgasm. His length was tightened around impossibly, and he found his release only moments later.
Potter was breathing erratically beneath him, being held up only by the strength of Severus' hands on his hips. It was only moments later that Severus realized the youth had gone unconscious. Cursing the heavens, he spelled the boy's clothing back on and drew him up and into his arms. He wondered vaguely to himself why he felt it his responsibility to see to it that Potter returned to his dorm. He should just leave the child on the stone floor to deal with the shame and pain of having passed out right after intercourse.
Indeed, he should very well do that. However, here he was, Potter-boy in his arms, and his slow trek to his own personal quarters. His actions were contradictory to Severus' usual pattern and it had him bemused. He was not afflicted with any sort of emotion for the boy, Severus reasoned internally. He simply felt as a professor and partly responsible for Potter's current state, it was therefore his responsibility to make sure Potter was not left lying there unconscious.
As he stepped into his rooms, he cursed himself and his actions. Why had he brought Potter here?! He could have simply levitated the boy to his own dorm. Why was he holding the surprising light form in his arms and traveling to his personal rooms? Severus settled the unconscious youth onto the bed, taking a moment to appraise the simple beauty of Potter. Shaking his head and stalking from the room, he pursued his favored chair and drink.
Severus was off his trolley.
