S is for Sacher-Masoch

It had been weeks since teacher and student had almost been caught at it by the headmaster. Harry had done a lot of wandering about the corridors at night, but to no avail. Snape had not come, and Harry had begun to doubt the meaning of the professor’s parting line. Perhaps he had only meant that he would keep Harry under surveillance, in case he was up to some mischief?
In class he still treated Harry like air, and even Ron, who was always sitting next to Harry, received far fewer slaps to the head than usual. Just today, Ron had mockingly suggested old professor Snape might be in love, since he was suddenly so good-natured. “That’s not even remotely funny!” Harry had snapped back, hurting his perplexed friend’s feelings. But at least… at least he had caught a glimpse of white bandage under the professor’s right sleeve and known that he had indeed left a mark upon him. But that too was weeks ago, now the bandage was long gone.
Now, this night, Harry had feverishly wandered further than he had ever gone before, wandered all the way to the narrow, dark tower where Snape had his office and potions classroom and, Harry presumed, his private residence. Naturally, Harry had never been there, but there were some rooms that were off limits to students in that tower, and he assumed that was where the professor lived.
Getting down the winding spiral staircase to the potions classroom in the dark took what felt like hours. One more flight of stairs and he was at a floor he had never visited before. In the darkness he could see the faintest of lights spill out on the floor at the end of a small hall, from which the staircase continued its spiralling journey downward for who knows how long, perhaps cutting through the entire castle down to the Slytherin common room under the lake. He cautiously approached the light and felt a large wooden door under his hands. He pressed his back against the rough stone wall next to the door, unsure of what to do next. He didn’t dare to knock, nor to venture inside unannounced.
He didn’t need to. After a short wait, during which he thought he could hear his heartbeats echoing across the hall, hasty footsteps approached and the door opened just enough on creaky hinges for a hand to reach out and pull him inside by his collar. He found himself face to face – well, face to chest – with the object of his desire. Professor Snape was fully dressed, as if he hadn’t yet gone to bed. Of course he hadn’t. He’d been tracing Harry’s approach on the map. The thought encouraged Harry, took the edge of his fear.
“Potter. How dare you come here?” Snape demanded.
Harry bit his lip: “But, sir, which place could be safer than your own, private –“
“And what if something should happen, as it so often does here at Hogwarts, and someone should come to fetch me, hm, Potter?” Snape raised an eyebrow.
“I didn’t think of that, sir.” Harry admitted breathlessly.
“Clearly not.” Snape noted, his voice tinged with repressed fury.
“But sir, I couldn’t bear to wait any longer!” Harry begged, “We didn’t get to finish –“
“Really?” Snape interrupted sarcastically, “It seemed to me, Potter, as if you did indeed – finish.”
Harry blinked. Did the potions master notice everything?
“But – but I need you! I want your cock up my –!“
Snape grabbed him by the throat and pressed his back against the door, almost lifting him from the floor, in order to silence him.
“You foulmouthed -!” he began, but suddenly let go of Harry and continued in a much more restrained tone: “Undress yourself.”
For a moment, Harry was unsure whether it was a spell meant to undress him or an order. It turned out to be an order, and he hastened to comply, fumbling painfully with every button. Snape flicked his head at a Spartan bed Harry had failed to notice in a corner of the poorly lit room, and he backed towards it. It was neatly made, another sign that the professor had never gone to bed that night. Snape put his fingertips to Harry’s naked chest and made him tumble backwards across the bed.
“Consider yourself lucky, Potter. I shall comply with your request, despite your insolence.”
He calmly tugged at his long sleeves to get them out of the way, and took out his erect member. Harry imagined how the potions master must have been sitting with the marauder’s map, tracing Harry’s steps, his cock stiffening with anticipation, and the thought made him shiver.
“Cold, Potter?” Snape asked mockingly.
The room was indeed chilly, but Harry hadn’t noticed until now and he would soon again forget. Snape placed Harry’s legs over his own shoulders, spreading him wide, and bent over him. Harry moaned hard as he entered him, the new position allowing for new sensations, one of them being his own hard cock rubbing against the rough fabric of Snape’s coat. He writhed and groaned, completely at the mercy of his pent-up desire. With the double stimulation it didn’t take many minutes for him to come with a whimper and a last thrashing of his head.
He opened his eyes just in time to see Snape’s upper lip curl, his piercing, black eyes narrow and the line between his eyebrows deepen in orgasm. Then Snape pulled back, produced a white handkerchief from his pocket and begun wiping at the mess Harry had made on the front of his black coat with a look of disgust upon his face. Harry crept toward him across the bed and licked the coat clean. Snape let him.
“Why, you exquisite little tart.” he muttered, but seemed to regret the compliment and roughly pulled Harry out of bed, “Get dressed.”
Harry hurried to find his clothes on the floor and do as he was told. Snape watched, his fingertips resting on one another.
“Now you must promise me never to come here again.” He said it with his curiously melodious intonation, betraying no emotion.
“But –“ Harry protested.
“Promise me!” Snape repeated, not raising his voice as much as letting the words resound emphatically, and took a threatening step forward.
Harry swallowed a lump in his throat and forced himself to say: “I promise.”
Snape gestured for him to get out the door.
“And Potter?”
“Yes sir?” Harry turned around in the doorway.
“Try to control your… emotions, will you? You put us both at risk, and furthermore –“
“Yes?”
“It sickens me.”
The door slammed shut in his face.