At the back

*I can’t believe this. There are countless bars in Knockturn Alley, did he have to walk into mine?*

Not that this was really Snape’s bar. However, he had spent enough of his measly salary in the place that he could claim to own at least his favourite table (the one hidden in the shadow at the right hand corner, from which you can see anyone coming in).

William Weasley. Bill as his friends called him but Snape had never been his friend nor would he agree to call with such a mundane name a creature as special as the eldest Weasley. To him he had always been “that Gryffindor”. Or rather, “that Gryffindor who could land me in Azkaban”.

The boy Snape remembered had grown up. Everyone’s eyes were on the newcomer taking in the sight he presented. Wrapped up in leather, with strategic openings tantalizing with glimpses of white skin.

But further up, if the observer could manage to get as far as the man’s face, there was hesitation, embarrassment almost. Dressed as a sex God but insecure as a virgin… Snape had to wonder whether others could read that about Weasley.

The hazel eyes widened for a second and Snape knew that his precautions had been for naught. He’d just been spotted. Which was not necessarily a bad turn in events.

“Fancy meeting you here, Professor.” Confident. So, confident but a look around enough to ruin the effect. People were sitting in the back for a reason and rhythmic movement in the table next to Snape’s left little to the imagination. The young man was blond and thin… too thin, spread on the table, gripping the edge as the man behind him, hidden in the shadow completely, a phantom lover, drove into him hard.

Weasley’s mouth half opened in shock as colour rose on his cheeks.

Not everyone preferred ing ing in the shadows. Snape followed Weasley’s gaze to fall on an old acquaintance. An impressive man in every way, tall and black. Dressed as though he were a genie that had escaped from its bottle. The get up included a fake African accent although Snape knew well that he was actually an Auror and as British as Albus Dumbledore. That knowledge hadn’t prevented Snape from having once held the position a short round man was currently holding, knelt in front of the black man and keenly polishing his nob.

Weasley stared transfixed then slowly moved towards Snape not taking his eyes away from what was happening in the middle of the bar.

Snape could feel the gazes on him. Everyone seemed to want to know why the newcomer had chosen him.

*Your guess is as good as mine.* Snape had lusted after the young man (who wouldn’t?) although his infatuation had never gotten beyond wet dreams and a few embarrassing moments in class. Weasley had never shown any signs of being interested in his Potions Master.

He was showing all the right signs now… Knelt in front of Snape and inexpertly trying to open the buttons leading to… Well, there was something substantial there for him to find.

Snape gently pushed the young man’s hands away.

“Have you ever done this before, Mr Weasley?”

He gave a quick nod to that and tried to go back to what he was doing. Snape helped speed the process by opening his robe and taking his cock out of his pants. A half open mouth and lips too red to be a man’s were waiting for him. One uncertain look up through copper strands and Snape seriously considered stopping this. This public display. This thing that was obviously an experiment and could very well be cut short.

Then that pink… oh, so pink tongue passed quickly over those lips, wet and glistening. There was no way back.

The hair was as soft as it looked and Snape ran his fingers through it… a gesture meant to reassure the younger man, perhaps. Or just to keep him there.

“Suck me.”

A closed mouthed kiss on the tip of his cock, left a whitish drop on the young man’s lips. He quickly licked it. Snape had to wonder whether it was all an act. A good act.

The eyes darted up to meet with Snape’s… looking for approval?

Snape just tightened his hold on Weasley’s hair, pushing him down n the right direction and then… Wet heat and that mouth opened to take him in, too wet, William’s spittle running down Snape’s shaft. Looking up again, he let go of Snape’s cock. Snape reached and quickly wiped the drool form the younger man’s jaw.

“Get on with it.” Snape found he had just as little patience when it came to this kind of instruction as with everything else. Weasley had been a good student, just smart enough to sail through Snape’s classes without making much of an effort. What he was now trying to do did require an effort, though and his abysmal performance suggested this was the first time he had taken a cock in his mouth.

Indeed, what is the use of having cocksucker lips when you’re so lamentably bad at cocksucking? Pretty boys like Weasley had their looks going for them. Technique was secondary. What was bringing Snape closer and closer to orgasm was not Weasley’s slobbering as much as the fact that a fantasy was coming true and he had not done anything to pursue it.

He was not the only one getting off. Snape much preferred the shadows but the unofficial rules of the place were that he would provide some entertainment. They’d attracted quite a crowd, hungry gazes and stifled moans as people around them touched themselves, some discreetly, others openly. Heavy smelling decadence under the yellow lights.

Snape thrust a little and brushed against Weasley’s palate. That was nice. The younger man made as if to pull back but something… perhaps pride... kept him right were he was. One more thrust and he merely flinched. Yet another and he slid a little lower. Snape felt him gag even before he heard the choked cough.

Watery eyes and the white throat working as embarrassment mixed with defiance in the handsome face. After a deep breath, Weasley leant forward again and mouthed just the head. He started sucking gently and reached to grab Snape’s shaft. He started pumping, very determined, harsh almost. Desperate to get this done, overcome it like he overcame any obstacle.

Snape felt it built in him, warm pleasure close to exploding and he briefly debated not giving warning. You decide to put a cock in your mouth, you’d better be prepared to deal with all that came with it. He was very close and the way Weasley’s tongue circled and pushed then teased the slit... Hot and wet and the friction the young man’s fist provided, just right. But he had to push him back in the end, the fantasy of shooting down his virgin throat was sweet but the reality could be quite different.

Weasley pulled back reluctantly, so reluctantly that most of Snape’s come did end up in his mouth, his cheeks, some on his leather vest as he started to rise, somewhat bewildered but keeping his composure.

Were those cheers he was hearing? Snape decided to shut out his surroundings. Weasley obviously hadn’t. He had blushed violently and was trying to wipe his face clean. Snape held on to the younger man, bringing him up to face him, to face the beauty he had defiled. Some he wiped with his sleeve, some with his tongue as he sat the other man on his lap.

Weasley made a surprised sound and tried to pull back. It wasn’t a kiss, not quite a kiss, Snape’s lips passed only briefly from Weasley’s just a little thing out of the way and a small nibble on the full lower lip because Snape had been dreaming about doing that for a while. Then lower, the jaw, the neck where lovely little sounds were reverberating. Oh, we liked that.

The black leather was beautiful but had to be uncomfortable. Snape resented trousers as it were, the madness of trapping your legs in that exquisite, soft, deliciously smelling… Perhaps it wasn’t that bad.

That leg went on forever, warm and muscular under all that leather and further up, so hot…

“Yes, right there.”

*You like getting touched between your legs? Why, I would have never guessed.*

Snape just had to feel the hard flesh in his palm, naked and probably as beautiful as the rest about Weasley. He palmed it through the soft leather again getting a harsh sob from the other man.

Snape was deft, he prided himself on that but the opening to those trousers was stubbornly refusing to yield… Laces… a tug should be enough but somehow he was tightening them instead of making his way inside. Weasley’s hands joined Snape’s one handed fumbling but only managed to tangle the laces even more.

“Fuck! My wand… in my jacket… oh!”

It was not a bad plan but obviously wasn’t needed anymore. Some wetnseepseeped through the jumble of laces and chains to Snape’s still struggling hand.

Snape laughed then tried to stop himself but Weasley simply joined him, laughing even harder than he did.

“Where did you get those?”

Weasley was pressing his face on Snape\'s shoulder. Snape caught something like “fucking Muggles. Supposed to be sexy, fuck.”

A smile. “They’re not so bad. We could go to a room I keep upstairs and make some modifications.” He cupped Weasley’s buttocks. “Here perhaps. And then I want to feel your legs around my waist as I fuck you. Would you like that?” *Or would that be too many experiments for one night?*

Weasley shrugged. “I’m game.”

You could always count on Gryffindor bravery to get what you wanted.