"Is there anything else you want me to do, Professor?" Harry leaned against the wall by the door, his robes, damp from washing cauldrons, outlining his body, in the pose that had worked for Professor Flitwick.
"You can leave, Potter." Snape didn't bother looking up from the pile of parchment on his desk. "Your detention is over."
"Are you sure you want me to go?" He put everything he had, and Harry knew he had loads, into his voice. "There is so much more I can do for you."
Snape finally raised his eyes. He blinked, but not before Harry could see them widen and darken. It was only time now. Harry smiled. "I have no interest in being another notch on your wand, Potter. Why don't you fuck Hagrid instead?"
Oh, he had him, all right. "I did. Last year, just after sixth year started. Right after McGonagall and before…before…ah, yes. Lupin." Or was it between Hermione and Ernie Macmillan? Was he losing track? Well, that wouldn't be surprising. Meanwhile, Snape had jumped at Lupin's name, so that worked well. Harry walked towards Snape's desk, licking his lips. "It was right before the full moon, and he was…rough and needy, and he fucked me hard." And he'd apologized over and over again for it, vowing never to touch Harry again and keeping his promise.
Of course, Harry was sleeping with Colin then, so it didn't matter. *Much* said the voice deep inside he'd learned to ignore. Instead, he put a hand on Snape's shoulder.
Snape flinched, but not hard enough to make Harry move. He was warm. Harry didn't expect that. "Why are you doing this?"
Harry shrugged. "Why not?" He stroked his shoulder, feeling his muscles move beneath the silk of the robe. "I'll bet you're sexy as hell under there."
"You're being a fool, Potter." And yet, Snape's voice was hoarse. "Get out of my classroom. Find some one your own age."
"The only ones left are Ron and Malfoy's henchmen." Ron flatly refused, and his skin crawled at the thought of Crabbe and Goyle, although they'd watched when he'd taken Malfoy against the wall outside Slytherin. Just thinking about that made him hard.
He wondered how Snape would feel. He smiled. He'd know not very long from now.
"I want *you* now, Professor. I need you now."
Seconds later, he found himself back against the wall, crushed by Snape's body. "Do you? Do you want this?" And Snape's lips were warm on his, rough and hot and demanding, and Harry gave and gave, as their bodies pressed together, Snape's cock pressing into his stomach as if it were going to drill right through.
"God…oh, God. Yes!" Snape stepped back. Harry slid to the floor, limp with surprise.
"I do not share, Potter. I do not sleep with anyone lightly, much less students. And I do not let go."
Harry blinked at him. "What…what are you saying?"
"That I am not going to be another conquest for you to drop tomorrow. I keep what I take. And I will keep you."
"Professor?" Those words made him more aroused than he'd ever been in his life.
"I am tired of watching you waste yourself on any wizard or witch who catches your fancy. I am tired of seeing you in my class in the same robes as the day before, stinking of sex. You are…" He took a long, interrupted breath. "You are worth more than that, Potter. If I risk my position with you, it will be worth my while and worth your soul."
Harry couldn't answer - he didn't even understand what those words meant. He just stared at him, realizing he was hungrier than he'd ever thought. That in those words was something he craved. He opened his mouth and his arms, and Snape was on the floor next to him, kissing him again, touching him with those long, stained fingers.
He'd expected Snape to be rough and cold, to take him fully clothed over his desk, to hurt him and bruise him.
Snape wasn't cold.
And the second time, he was gentle, taking him to his office and placing him on the bed, soothing the bruises with kisses, exploring his body with his hands and his eyes, letting Harry sink inside of him.
Later, before Harry fell asleep curled in his arms, he pressed his lips to Harry's again, and the last word Harry heard before drifting off was, "Mine."
For the first time in a long time, Harry didn't dream of death.