Fic: Holes
Title: Holes
Author: notime2
Rating: R/NC17
Warnings: AU, slash, oral/glory hole, student/teacher
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Severus Snape or any other character or situation that may have or may soon spring from the mind of J K Rowling onto paper with the intent of making large sums of money. I make no gain monetary or otherwise from writing this fic. It is pure folly, well ok . . . impure folly.
Pairing: HP/SS
Summary: Harry finds a new chamber on the Marauders map and tricks Snape into some anonymous sexual gratification.
Author’s note: Many thanks dixiebell12 for requesting a glory hole fic and inspiring my muse, and to my talented beta dragonmhs, who gave me the courage to post what might otherwise have gathered cyberdust on my lonely hard drive. And to thisaestus who beat me with a comma till it came out my colon.
. . . Stalking the darkened halls of Hogwarts always gave Severus Snape a certain thrill. When the hand on his clock read, “Why aren’t you in bed?” he was busy catching students in compromising positions.
It was Friday night, which brought out a predictable handful of students, hoping to be fortunate enough to remain undiscovered on their evening tryst. Every generation would sneak off to the same secret rooms and darkened halls as their parents and countless generations before them in hope of some private time with their latest infatuation. Severus Snape was scarcely older than many of those parents, but he has seen enough to find the presumptions of secrecy laughable.
Their house mates will awake in the morning to find their hard earned points drained, as the culprits prepare to spend their Saturday with Filch, scrubbing stubborn stains from Hogwarts aged floors.
Some might think Snape petty, perhaps due to some lack of romance in his own life, but he sneered at the only one brazen enough to say such words to his face, and left the headmaster alone to peddle his candies elsewhere.
Once the majority of wooers had been caught and sent back to their dorms, Snape used the remaining time to think. He dismissed the stuttered apologies that so recently echoed down the hall in favor of the silence that replaced them. Brewing volatile ingredients together in his mind where they could cause no harm was a pleasant distraction for the Potions Master during those hours.
The halls didn’t remain silent for long. Something raised the hairs at the back of his neck warning that there might still be a student about . . .
Perhaps there was yet one more pair sequestered in a passionate embrace. Stopping silently outside a closed door, Snape knew without question that the room remained occupied; Snape whispered the password to the Prefect’s bath and entered silently.
That was where he found his prize. Harry Potter was out past curfew. He was standing faced in toward the wall, far too close for someone to squeeze between it and where Potter stood, arms braced on the wall with his hips rhythmically twitching. To Snape’s surprise, there was no one sharing the room with the Boy-Who-Lived which made it easier for him to observe unnoticed. Snape had no intention of remaining hidden long, just long enough to commit the image to memory.
The flush of arousal turned quickly to a blush of shame when Harry was bodily wrenched from the wall, his erect cock dripping precome on the floor between his shoes.
“Mr. Potter, what is the meaning of this?” Snape demanded, sparing a glance to where Harry’s unfastened jeans had slid down his hips allowing his erection its freedom.
“It’s a glory hole sir,” Harry blurted before he could change his mind.
Something tickled at Snape’s memory, as a sneer crossed his face. “You are depraved and far more desperate than one might at first assume, Mr. Potter. I want none of your excuses . . . fifty points from Gryffindor and off to your dorm.”
“Yes sir,” Harry replied hitching up his jeans, appearing suitably chastised until his back was turned. With any luck the trap had been baited. He gave the Marauders map a thankful pat as he made his way down the hall to the statue of the one-eyed wizard and uttered the password, “Serpents kiss,” and disappeared inside.
A glory hole . . . Snape glared at the unblemished wall, “magically concealed,” he murmured, “clever.” Countless generations had sought them out for the promise of anonymous pleasure in back alleys and pubs. He was sure the last of them at Hogwarts had been destroyed years ago, not that he had ever partaken in that particular activity. Potter had looked so swollen and needy as he was pulled clear of the hole likely mere moments before completion. It made him ache in sympathy as he pressed his palm against his own erection, prompting a lonely throb.
A second visual inspection of the room assured that the facilities were definitely vacant of students as well as ghosts, and a flick of his wand warded the door against intrusion. Surely the other end of the hole was no longer occupied, being well after curfew, but it should still be investigated he convinced himself too easily. The temptation was too hard to resist. He opened the placket to his trousers quickly, despite his shaking fingers, his eager erection springing free and pointing straight at the concealed hole like a divining rod. After one final moment of doubt (his conscience losing badly) he gave his erection a squeeze before his hard cock was brushing past the smooth cool stone of the hole’s edge.
At first he felt ridiculous, his body pressed tight to the cool stone, his cock thrust through a hole waiting for something to happen. Those feelings passed the moment warm breath ghosted across his exposed flesh, setting his nerves on alert. A warm swipe of a tongue was next. Just a taste before the mouth returned for a feast.
The tongue teased along the foreskin sending sparks of pleasure up Snape’s spine and continued exploring the sensitive flesh before dipping into the slit. The pace was torturously slow, it seemed like an eternity before his length was finally encased in a hot wet mouth. He was lost to sensation, his harsh breaths echoing in the empty room as his fingers sought out crevices in the stone to help him remain upright. Never had he been treated with such care, especially by one so talented. Whoever was on the other side of that wall had a wicked tongue. He could no longer hold back the groan of delight that had threatened to emerge since the first delicious lick.
The first drops of precome were savored, he could feel the hum of appreciation run up his length, as the glans received a thorough exploration, cradled then licked and teased. Snape was sure he’d never been harder.
As he struggled to keep steady on his feet, his groin pressed as tightly to the wall as possible, his mind considered who might be on the giving end of his delight. To which house might the student belong? Could a Hufflepuff know to suck and hum like that, or those teasing licks at the slit, or would it be a Ravenclaw who studied the mind-blowing pattern being traced along his veins? He thought back to Potter and wondered if he had received such treatment as well. His mind refused to follow that train of thought any further, wanting nothing to distract him from his impending climax. If only it wasn’t his own hand fondling his balls and sliding under his shirt to pinch his nipples, he thought before another groan was dragged up from somewhere near his toes.
He wanted to hold out as long as possible, but it was becoming difficult considering the sensory assault; the contrast between warm mouth and cold stone was maddening. The pressure increased as he was swallowed impossibly deeper and his balls began to ache with the need to come. If not for the wall, a nose would be buried deep in his coarse curls, and Snape was remiss to dispel the image of messy black hair that came to mind.
His climax raced up on him as the muscle worked his length swallowing him deep, and milking every drop. His fingers numbly grasped stone as his knees threatened to buckle with the force brought by the release of his pleasure. He was grateful for the stone wall cooling his sweaty brow, rooting him in reality, as he stood gasping for breath in the wake of the most powerful climax of his life. As his softening cock slid free from the ancient stone, a whispered name left his lips unbidden. “Potter.” The stone floor chilled his palms and bit into his knees as the quivering in his limbs forced him into an undignified position on the floor, and for once he didn’t care. Treacherous thoughts accompanied the contented ache in his loins, and though he would never admit it, he wished he hadn’t sent Potter away.
On the other side of the wall Harry Potter knelt on the small velvet pillow he’d found provided, perhaps by a prior occupant, to ease the strain one endured remaining in such an uncomfortable position. He licked a drop of cooling come off his lips as his own cock longed for release. He would be sure to keep a closer eye on the Professor with the help of the map. Apparently Snape could break a rule once in a while and Harry Potter was sure going to be there when he did again.
fin.
Author: notime2
Rating: R/NC17
Warnings: AU, slash, oral/glory hole, student/teacher
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Severus Snape or any other character or situation that may have or may soon spring from the mind of J K Rowling onto paper with the intent of making large sums of money. I make no gain monetary or otherwise from writing this fic. It is pure folly, well ok . . . impure folly.
Pairing: HP/SS
Summary: Harry finds a new chamber on the Marauders map and tricks Snape into some anonymous sexual gratification.
Author’s note: Many thanks dixiebell12 for requesting a glory hole fic and inspiring my muse, and to my talented beta dragonmhs, who gave me the courage to post what might otherwise have gathered cyberdust on my lonely hard drive. And to thisaestus who beat me with a comma till it came out my colon.
. . . Stalking the darkened halls of Hogwarts always gave Severus Snape a certain thrill. When the hand on his clock read, “Why aren’t you in bed?” he was busy catching students in compromising positions.
It was Friday night, which brought out a predictable handful of students, hoping to be fortunate enough to remain undiscovered on their evening tryst. Every generation would sneak off to the same secret rooms and darkened halls as their parents and countless generations before them in hope of some private time with their latest infatuation. Severus Snape was scarcely older than many of those parents, but he has seen enough to find the presumptions of secrecy laughable.
Their house mates will awake in the morning to find their hard earned points drained, as the culprits prepare to spend their Saturday with Filch, scrubbing stubborn stains from Hogwarts aged floors.
Some might think Snape petty, perhaps due to some lack of romance in his own life, but he sneered at the only one brazen enough to say such words to his face, and left the headmaster alone to peddle his candies elsewhere.
Once the majority of wooers had been caught and sent back to their dorms, Snape used the remaining time to think. He dismissed the stuttered apologies that so recently echoed down the hall in favor of the silence that replaced them. Brewing volatile ingredients together in his mind where they could cause no harm was a pleasant distraction for the Potions Master during those hours.
The halls didn’t remain silent for long. Something raised the hairs at the back of his neck warning that there might still be a student about . . .
Perhaps there was yet one more pair sequestered in a passionate embrace. Stopping silently outside a closed door, Snape knew without question that the room remained occupied; Snape whispered the password to the Prefect’s bath and entered silently.
That was where he found his prize. Harry Potter was out past curfew. He was standing faced in toward the wall, far too close for someone to squeeze between it and where Potter stood, arms braced on the wall with his hips rhythmically twitching. To Snape’s surprise, there was no one sharing the room with the Boy-Who-Lived which made it easier for him to observe unnoticed. Snape had no intention of remaining hidden long, just long enough to commit the image to memory.
The flush of arousal turned quickly to a blush of shame when Harry was bodily wrenched from the wall, his erect cock dripping precome on the floor between his shoes.
“Mr. Potter, what is the meaning of this?” Snape demanded, sparing a glance to where Harry’s unfastened jeans had slid down his hips allowing his erection its freedom.
“It’s a glory hole sir,” Harry blurted before he could change his mind.
Something tickled at Snape’s memory, as a sneer crossed his face. “You are depraved and far more desperate than one might at first assume, Mr. Potter. I want none of your excuses . . . fifty points from Gryffindor and off to your dorm.”
“Yes sir,” Harry replied hitching up his jeans, appearing suitably chastised until his back was turned. With any luck the trap had been baited. He gave the Marauders map a thankful pat as he made his way down the hall to the statue of the one-eyed wizard and uttered the password, “Serpents kiss,” and disappeared inside.
A glory hole . . . Snape glared at the unblemished wall, “magically concealed,” he murmured, “clever.” Countless generations had sought them out for the promise of anonymous pleasure in back alleys and pubs. He was sure the last of them at Hogwarts had been destroyed years ago, not that he had ever partaken in that particular activity. Potter had looked so swollen and needy as he was pulled clear of the hole likely mere moments before completion. It made him ache in sympathy as he pressed his palm against his own erection, prompting a lonely throb.
A second visual inspection of the room assured that the facilities were definitely vacant of students as well as ghosts, and a flick of his wand warded the door against intrusion. Surely the other end of the hole was no longer occupied, being well after curfew, but it should still be investigated he convinced himself too easily. The temptation was too hard to resist. He opened the placket to his trousers quickly, despite his shaking fingers, his eager erection springing free and pointing straight at the concealed hole like a divining rod. After one final moment of doubt (his conscience losing badly) he gave his erection a squeeze before his hard cock was brushing past the smooth cool stone of the hole’s edge.
At first he felt ridiculous, his body pressed tight to the cool stone, his cock thrust through a hole waiting for something to happen. Those feelings passed the moment warm breath ghosted across his exposed flesh, setting his nerves on alert. A warm swipe of a tongue was next. Just a taste before the mouth returned for a feast.
The tongue teased along the foreskin sending sparks of pleasure up Snape’s spine and continued exploring the sensitive flesh before dipping into the slit. The pace was torturously slow, it seemed like an eternity before his length was finally encased in a hot wet mouth. He was lost to sensation, his harsh breaths echoing in the empty room as his fingers sought out crevices in the stone to help him remain upright. Never had he been treated with such care, especially by one so talented. Whoever was on the other side of that wall had a wicked tongue. He could no longer hold back the groan of delight that had threatened to emerge since the first delicious lick.
The first drops of precome were savored, he could feel the hum of appreciation run up his length, as the glans received a thorough exploration, cradled then licked and teased. Snape was sure he’d never been harder.
As he struggled to keep steady on his feet, his groin pressed as tightly to the wall as possible, his mind considered who might be on the giving end of his delight. To which house might the student belong? Could a Hufflepuff know to suck and hum like that, or those teasing licks at the slit, or would it be a Ravenclaw who studied the mind-blowing pattern being traced along his veins? He thought back to Potter and wondered if he had received such treatment as well. His mind refused to follow that train of thought any further, wanting nothing to distract him from his impending climax. If only it wasn’t his own hand fondling his balls and sliding under his shirt to pinch his nipples, he thought before another groan was dragged up from somewhere near his toes.
He wanted to hold out as long as possible, but it was becoming difficult considering the sensory assault; the contrast between warm mouth and cold stone was maddening. The pressure increased as he was swallowed impossibly deeper and his balls began to ache with the need to come. If not for the wall, a nose would be buried deep in his coarse curls, and Snape was remiss to dispel the image of messy black hair that came to mind.
His climax raced up on him as the muscle worked his length swallowing him deep, and milking every drop. His fingers numbly grasped stone as his knees threatened to buckle with the force brought by the release of his pleasure. He was grateful for the stone wall cooling his sweaty brow, rooting him in reality, as he stood gasping for breath in the wake of the most powerful climax of his life. As his softening cock slid free from the ancient stone, a whispered name left his lips unbidden. “Potter.” The stone floor chilled his palms and bit into his knees as the quivering in his limbs forced him into an undignified position on the floor, and for once he didn’t care. Treacherous thoughts accompanied the contented ache in his loins, and though he would never admit it, he wished he hadn’t sent Potter away.
On the other side of the wall Harry Potter knelt on the small velvet pillow he’d found provided, perhaps by a prior occupant, to ease the strain one endured remaining in such an uncomfortable position. He licked a drop of cooling come off his lips as his own cock longed for release. He would be sure to keep a closer eye on the Professor with the help of the map. Apparently Snape could break a rule once in a while and Harry Potter was sure going to be there when he did again.
fin.