Draco stood in the damp chill of the dungeon, outside the door to Professor Snape's office. The hallway was empty and no one could see him, so the Slytherin ran his hands through his hair and took a breath to calm himself. It was only detention. Nothing was going to happen. He wasn't going to let anything happen. His imagination supplied Draco with a myriad of sultry images and he hurriedly pushed them from his mind. Draco's heart was beating faster. Taking another breath, he resumed his calm and knocked on the professor's door. There was silence for a moment, and Draco wondered if Snape had forgotten.

"Come in, Mr. Malfoy." He obviously had not. Draco opened the door and stepped into the familiar office. Snape was seated behind his desk calmly writing something and a small fire burned in his fireplace. The dark-haired man raised his head and made a small gesture at the stool to the side of his desk. Draco moved across the room and sat, waiting for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to say something. Snape looked down at his papers, began writing again, and said nothing.

Draco wasn't sure what to make of this. He'd been in many detentions before, he was a Slytherin after all, but never one this oddly silent. The other professors all gave him his task and left him to it. The unspoken task hung heavily in the air. Time was moving slowly and Draco did his best not to fidget. Snape did nothing. The scritch-scritch sound of his quill was the only noise in the room, besides the soft pop of fire in the fireplace.

As Snape wrote, Draco examined his room. The shelves were still in the same spots, with the same surprising jars and the same rows of books. Nothing had changed. His eyes flicked to Snape and quickly flicked away. He was trying not to think about the older man, but being this close all he could think about was the feel of his hot lips pressed against his own. Draco shivered lightly, and tried his best to make it look like it was only a slight draft in the dungeon.

He turned his eyes back to the room, trying to drive the images of Snape from his mind. He looked at the pictures on one wall, and even began counting the books. One... Two... Three... Four... Five... The memory of his father's cane holding him against Snape's body as the older man ran his lips along his ear wiped the number from his mind. He blinked, surprised, and realized he had lost track. What had he been at again? Three... Four... Five... Six... Seven... Eight...

Finally, Draco lost interest in the books. His curiosity was getting the better of him, and by this point the replay of their encounter was playing through his mind in full. His eyes ran over Snape's face, lingering on his lips. Oh, what those lips could do... Draco licked his lips. Realizing what he'd done, he looked at Snape nervously, afraid that he'd seen. It appeared that the professor was busy with his letter and had not seen.

Feeling more brazen, Draco ran his eyes along Snape's body. He was beautiful, even the loose fitting robes he wore could not hide that. Some people may have scoffed, but there was a beauty in him, and the things those hands could do... Draco's body was warming at the image.

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape said with out even looking up from his paper. "You have been staring for quite some time. Is there something on your mind?" He looked up from what he was doing and Draco momentarily forgot to breathe. Severus Snape was looking at him with a heated look in his black, black eyes. A small, wicked smile played across his lips, and he raised one eye brow in query. "Well?"