Meddling

A/N abit of a warning for this chappie. More then just bad words now, e\'se\'s mention of rape and masterbation. But it\'s all good, I swear!


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Yet another horrible day. He had been making his evening rounds to make sure no-one was breaking curfew or any other rules in the hope of being able to scream and humiliate students and deduct grossly unfair numbers of points in an attempt to feel better after the barrage of letters and so on that morning. Several had been enchanted to follow him around, so for the first period after breakfast there had been half a dozen different coloured envelopes swooping around his head, some singing, some telling him all the wondrous qualities of it’s ‘mistress’, some constantly giving him the most absurd compliments he had ever heard. Thankfully the charm seemed to wear out after an hour, and the class had been all first years which were easy enough to intimidate. But it had all really gone to shit when during his rounds, he had heard screaming.

He had hiked up his robes and sprinted as fast as he could, skinny legs flashing. In a shadowy corridor a seventh year Ravenclaw girl was strugglinginstinst a Hufflepuff boy. Her school robes were lying on the floor and he had already ripped her blouse open. Severus had gaped for a moment, trying to force some air back into his lungs before he stupefied the boy. The sobbing girl clung to his side and he automatically put an arm around her shoulders as he tried to decide what to do. Nothing like this had ever happened on school grounds before.

[If only I could leave him like this in the Forest for the night. Albus will know what to do.] He had raised his wand to float the boys frozen body to the Headmasters office when he became aware of small fingers plucking at the buttons holding his robes together.

‘Oh, thank you Professor, thank you ever so much. I shudder to think what might have happened if you hadn’t come by just now. You’re so brave, if only I could repay your kindness somehow…’ she simpered at him, an arm around his waist preventing him from stepping away from the hand that was aggressively smoothing over his chest, trying to slide beneath the robes.

‘That really won’t be necessary Miss Callahan.’ He had tried politely to unwind himself from her insistent embrace, but every time he managed to catch hold of one arm, the other twisted out of his grip and touched him somewhere else. He had finally lost patience when she artlessly grabbed his behind and squeezed quite firmly, rubbing her hip into his crotch. He had pushed her away in disgust.

‘Do you usually offer sexual favours to those who prevent from being raped?’ [RightyO then Severus, it’s Nasty Look time. Curl your lip, look down your nose, glare. Perfect form m’boy, excellent sneer.]

Her lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears.

‘It’s just… I was… Please? I just want to show how grateful I am. You’ll like it, I promise.’ She disappeared from view and he felt tugging at the top of his pants.

‘What the FUCK do you thing you’re doing?’ he’d screamed as he pulled her out from under his robes. He’s put her in a full body bind then and picked up her robes to cover her body before floating the two prone forms to Dumbledore’s office and scribbling a short note. He had considered leaving them there until morning to think about what they had done until a teacher found them the next morning, but in the end rang for Albus to come down, adjourning to his rooms before the man arrived.

He downed the glass of scotch and grimaced, partly from the not entirely unpleasant burn in his throat and partly from the recollection of the evening. Albus had called soon after to say that it had in fact been a scheme by the two students to get his mothers money. He groaned. He had ended the conversation then, not caring whether it had entailed marriage, pregnancy or merely the age-old favourite of blackmail.

Which is why he was nittiitting in his favourite chair in front of the fire trying to drink himself into a stupor. Trying to forget the feeling of the girl pressing against him. It had been so long since anyone had touched him. Since anyone had actually wanted to touch him. Even those of simple friendship eluded him. Albus occasionally patted him on the shoulder, but that had been the extent of the physical contact he received in day-to-day life. Which is why he was going crazy now.

The last few weeks Minerva was always stroking his cheek, offering him neck rubs or brushing against him. Trelawney had tried to do the same, but the idea of her touching him make him physically ill, and he had informed her of such in no uncertain terms. She had finally stopped crying every time she saw him and now was constantly attached to the side of Professor Sinstra. Even Professor Sprout had tried to draw him into civil conversation when he had gone to pick up some supplies from the greenhouse.

The feel of the girl’s grinding hip seemed imprinted on his flesh. He was more then uncomfortably hard, his skin felt like it was being stripped off piece by piece, burned by holy fire made of ice crystals. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. His body ached exquisitely with need, every twitch of muscle bringing forth amazing twinges of both pain and pleasure. He could feel the very weave of the fabric that formed the clothes he still wore.

His heavy teaching robes lay puddled at the foot of his chair, shoes kicked into a corner and socks thrown after them. He wiggled his toes at the fire, watching the way the light glowed around them. The movement created a rolling wave of indescribable sensation that flowed up the back of his legs to pool heavily in his groin. His shirt was unbuttoned and he downed another drink before starting on his trousers. Each tug on the garment made the fabric press closer to hiin sin somewhere- brushing, stroking, he almost thought his pants had a life of their own when he realised that he had removed them already and it was his own hand that was tracing sinuously over his flesh, trailing over buttock and thigh as well as circling his throbbing cock, squeezing gently and biting his lip in response to the alien feeling.

He rarely pleasured himself, finding little actual pleasure in the act, only physical release from tension. But tonight it was unlike anything he had ever felt before. His nerves were on fire, his touch wasn’t his. The barest friction of anything against his skin felt intense. The warmth of the fire in front of him was like being immersed in a bath of honey, the velour of the chair against his now naked behind prickled slightly, his linen shirt pressed into his back like the sheets of a lover’s bed.

He tried to distract himself from taking matters in hand and exploring this new sense of touch, not wanting to have to face the idea of having had a wank over a student. But as his fingers traced their own way up over his lean stomach to pinch flat nipples on a thinnish chest he admitted to himself that it was actually fear of what might happen if he let himself go like this, what might happen if he let himself lose control. Discipline and restraint were integral parts of his life, too long living double- and triple-lives. But more then anything he wanted to see what would happen, the researcher in him winning out. Not that he was sure he had power over his hands at that stage in any case.

Fingers walked across his stomach, stroked his sides and along his throat, tracing the numerous scars over his body and raising trails of goosebumps where they passed. One cupped his balls and squeezed gently before sliding over his length, spreading the fluid at the tip over the whole head and stroking. Faster and faster his hands moved, impossibly wandering over his entire body, and then he was coming, screaming in ecstasy as his body convulsed with the perfect balance of pleasure and pain.

Slowly he returned to himself, his mind drifting on some higher plane. Automatically he reached for a handkerchief to clean himself up, but when he looked, he realised there was no mess. He was still in the same chair in front of a now barely-smoldering fire wearing nothing but a black linen dress shirt. But the night had passed, hsn’tsn’t sticky in the least and he was the most relaxed he had been in years. His back was fine even after sleeping in the chair. He shook his head in wonder then caught sight of the clock above the mantle.

[Oh fuck, classes. Puzzle over this all later, you have Fourth Year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins to terrify in five minutes.]


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