"Is it supposed to be that small?"
"Potter, you imbecile, the size of it does not matter."
Harry bit the inside of his cheek. "Well, it's just that – I've never held one that's so little before."
A frustrated sigh was Harry's only warning before he felt Severus's hand close over his own. "You hold it like this. Just as you would your own. Why did you expect it would be any different?"
Harry tried unsuccessfully to stifle his hysterical bubble of laughter. It emerged sounding like a strangled cough. He heard another sigh and felt warm breath glide over his neck. "What's wrong now, Potter?"
"Do you think you have the hang of it now? Can I let go?"
"Yes. Oops, sorry."
"I'm sorry! It just slipped out of my grip. I'm just…well, mine is so much bigger." He heard Snape growl in frustration. "Give me a break, here. I am trying."
Unfortunately, the sheer hilarity of the situation was severely hampering his concentration. His shoulders shook as he tried to stifle his mirth, and he felt Severus stiffen behind him. "Are you laughing?"
"You are laughing! May I ask what is so funny?"
"Oh for the love of— What the hell do you think is so funny?"
"Please tell me you are not using our completely innocent conversation to fuel your aberrant sexual fantasies."
"All right, I won't."
Another growl, this one decidedly more dangerous and Snape pulled away. "Ollivander!" he barked. "This one will do. It appears to be compatible with Mr. Potter. It will make a satisfactory secondary wand."
"Very good, Mr. Potter." Ollivander shuffled toward Harry. "Secondary wands are designed to be smaller – easier to conceal, you know – so make sure you have an appropriate pocket sewn into all of your battle robes. You don't want to be scrambling around trying to find it when you need it most."
"Oh no," Harry agreed with a smirk, "that would be awful."
Severus rolled his eyes when Ollivander turned to ring up the purchase. "I am never doing this again," he stated, crossing his arms over his chest with a sneer.
"Taking you…shopping," Snape said, spitting out the last word.
"You didn't enjoy watching me play with my wand?"
"This conversation is over."
"But it was just getting interesting."
"Potter…" Snape's voice held more than a hint of warning.
Harry crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking Snape's pose. "Are we to avoid this forever, then?"
"I am avoiding nothing."
"Snape, avoidance is your middle name."
"I beg your pardon!"
Harry sighed and dropped his hands to his sides. "Since I left school, you've been avoiding me like the plague. Frankly, I'm surprised you came with me today."
Snape snarled and turned away, making a show of examining a display case of rare wands. "I was given little choice in the matter," he shot over his shoulder.
Translation: Dumbledore had insisted. Harry chewed on the inside of his lip, wondering exactly how far he could push things with the older man. "Admit it, Snape. There's something between us."
"No – you won't admit it, or no – there's nothing between us."
Harry pursed his lips together, biting back his scathing retort. He was becoming quite tired of all this pussyfooting around. Quite frankly, he needed to know if the tension between them would spark if given a chance. Fantasies were one thing, reality another. But if Snape never gave them the opportunity to explore it….
"Like what you see, Professor?" Ollivander asked as he came around the corner.
Snape nodded politely as Ollivander first handed Harry the packaged wand and then joined the Potions Master at the display case. "Impressive efforts, all of them. And each unique," the small man said.
"Indeed," Snape drawled.
"Please continue to peruse. I have some things I must attend to in the back." After another nod to Harry, the small man ambled away. Harry watched Snape from across the room, bent over and peering into the case, and made a split second decision.
He began to stalk across the shop, closing in on an unsuspecting Snape.
Meanwhile, Snape was cursing himself for allowing that meddling fool Dumbledore to yet again manipulate him into a situation he couldn't control. And what was that boy thinking? He and Potter were no were no more compatible than ice cream in hell.
It would never work.
Snape was so intent on his mental dialog that he completely failed to notice when Potter approached, placed a hand on either side of the display case, effectively trapping him, and whispered, "Immobulus" into his ear.
As the spell took effect, Snape cursed Dumbledore spectacularly one final time.
"Release me, Potter," he snarled.
"I think not."
"You will suffer greatly for this, Potter, that I promise."
"Just an experiment, Snape. You do them all the time."
"Yes. A search for empirical evidence." As he spoke, Harry rose up onto his tiptoes and blew gently over the small patch of exposed skin on Snape's neck. Snape's body tensed, but trapped by the Immobulus, he could move very little. Feelings of vulnerability rose up, at first choking him with fear, before receding and being replaced with a surge of lust so strong, it shot from his groin to the far points of his body, leaving nothing but tingling heat in its wake.
Controlled. By Potter.
He couldn't stop a tiny gasp from escaping his lips. Harry heard it and paused.
"Are you all right, Severus?"
"No," he choked out, putting as much loathing into his voice as he could. "Release me!"
Sweet fucking Christ, please release me before I make a monumental fool of myself.
Potter was thinking about it. The boy's brain made more noise than a freight train, screeching and thumping along its mental tracks. A disgusting trait. Which did not explain, however, why his cock was so unbearably hard that he actually felt dizzy.
"No. Not yet. Not… just …yet." Harry slid his arms around Snape, reaching up to unfasten one by one the tiny metal clasps that held his robe closed. As each hook was freed, Harry's fingers ghosted over the light linen shirt beneath, sending jolts of electric sensation to Snape's groin. When Harry's nimble fingers finally unfastened the last clasp, and his hands slid fully underneath to rest on the crisp linen, Snape groaned.
Harry's answering moan and a slight thrust of his hips had Snape's heartbeat skyrocketing. To be in this man's control, to come to the realization so suddenly that he trusted Harry to do this, and to know that he would never allow another to render him so helpless, all of this was intoxicating. But to hear and feel that Harry was similarly aroused stripped away a lifetime's worth of self-restraint in less than five seconds.
"Release me," he repeated in a rough voice. Harry's hands stilled their agonizingly slow exploration of his chest, and Snape groaned again, this time in disappointment.
"Why?" Harry's own voice was breathless, and he was moving himself in tight, slow circles against Snape's ass.
"I want to touch you."
Shameless, shameless, shameless. He had barely waited till the question had left Potter's lips before blurting his answer. Surprisingly, his rational mind sent no admonishment to take hold of himself, at least not in the figurative sense. It hardly mattered, Snape knew if those hands wandered any farther south than his chest, his mind would take a permanent vacation anyway.
"Please, Harry." Christ, now he was begging. And his voice sounded like he'd been dining on pea gravel.
"Fuck," Harry whispered and buried his face in Snape's robes. His "Finite Incantatum" was more a moan than anything else, but it did the trick, because suddenly Snape was able to move.
He spun so fast, Harry would have been thrown to the floor if Snape hadn't caught his upper arms in a pincer grip. Harry's body jolted at the contact, not intimate by nature, but in this case, powerfully arousing. Mystery solved – absolutely no question about the sparks.
Snape growled and turned again, this time taking Harry with him and pushing him roughly against the display case and pressing his body full length against the other man's. "Do not ever, ever do that again," he said, voice low and dangerous. Some of Harry's arousal faded at the unmistakable threat. "Unless," Snape continued in measured tones. "I give you explicit permission."
Harry found that his brain was stuck back on, "I want to touch you," and incapable of forming any reply that would make sense. In the end, he simply nodded. Snape eased his grip and crowded Harry even more tightly against the heavy glass case. Harry's hands twitched, aching to touch and stroke, but although Snape's grip had loosened, he still held Harry's arms securely.
"Have you no manners, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked snidely. He leaned forward and latched on to Harry's neck, sucking and biting at the tender flesh. Harry's knees gave out as each touch of Snape's tongue to his skin traveled, as by some invisible connection, to his cock. Snape pushed against him even harder, completely supporting his full weight, as he continued. "Have you never heard of the word ‘please'?"
"Please…." Harry wheezed as Snape's hands left his arms and traveled up to tangle in his hair. Harry had only a split second to process the change before his head was being tilted and Snape's mouth descended on his.
Sparks, he decided, was too plain a description for what was happening to his body. Goose bumps rose everywhere, and hair from his neck to his toes stood on end. He was both hot and cold, panting and keening low in his throat. He didn't even engage in the battle, he simply let Snape taste and take. Waves of intense pleasure exploded to life in his stomach before sinking down and settling to throb deliciously between his legs.
Snape finally let him breathe, but before Harry could even gasp for a full breath, the mouth was back on his neck. Snape's hands slid down through his hair to his neck, and gave a hard but quick squeeze, before sliding down his arms once again. This time, however, they bypassed his hands, roaming lower before settling finally on his ass. He was jerked forward, and cried out as the movement sank Snape's teeth gently into the soft skin above his collarbone.
Snape knew he had lost control. He was groping a boy young enough to be his son – even though said boy was an adult in his own right – in broad daylight in a very public place. There were so many things wrong with what he was doing, he didn't know how to begin cataloging them.
He couldn't stop.
Potter tasted incredible – like chocolate and youth and foolish laughter. Snape nibbled on the swollen lips, swallowing every desperate needy whimper. Potter's hands had wandered to his chest and were rubbing there in restless circles over the material of his shirt. Snape groaned as blunt fingernails dragged across his nipples. In turn, Harry thrust against him, moaning wantonly before grabbing two handfuls of Snape's hair and forcing the wandering mouth back to his.
Harry was lost. Between Snape's hands and mouth, as well as the other man's deep constant groans that shot directly to Harry's cock, he wasn't surprised to feel orgasm creeping up on him. He spread his legs as widely as he could, and Snape took the initiative, pressing between them, crushing their bodies together and grinding his hips forcefully against Harry's. The tips of Harry's fingers and toes started to tingle and his stomach muscles clenched into a hard knot. He gasped, drawing Snape's tongue further into his mouth, giving himself over to the sensations, unable to stop them even had he wanted to.
"Oh shit," he whimpered against Snape's mouth. "I'm gonna come."
Snape heard the desperate confession and felt his own body tighten in response. "Yes," he hissed, letting his body match Harry's frenzied movements. He had until this point been able to keep himself in check, confident he had the willpower to do so. But knowing Harry was about to climax, that he couldn't or wouldn't stop it from happening, was enough to strip the last of Snape's control. He growled into Harry's mouth, pumping his hips hard and fast, not caring in the slightest that the glass in the case was rattling noisily. He just needed a little more, just a second more.
Harry cried out sharply and arched against him, ripping his mouth away from Snape's. Whimpering, panting, he buried his face in the crook of Snape's neck. Snape felt his own body rushing toward the same explosive completion, and then….
The bell above the door chimed as it was opened, and the midday racket of Diagon Alley rose and then fell again as it swung closed. Two witches entered, chattering incessantly as they strode to the counter.
Snape pulled himself back from the brink, reigning in his own response as best he could, even as he cursed the interruption. It had been years since he had taken a life, but he was close now. Very bloody close. He allowed himself one deadly look at the two interlopers before acting. Lightning quick, he wrapped Harry in his arms, turning him away from the women as the younger man rode out his orgasm with a series of hitching sobs, muffled in the material of Snape's robes.
"Are you all right, my dear?"
Snape looked over to see the older of the two ladies watching Harry with concern. "He will be fine," Snape replied. Both women continued to look on curiously, and Snape's vow to himself not to end their pathetic, interfering lives wavered.
"Are you sure?" the younger one asked.
"Yes," Snape ground out and Harry laughed softly against his shoulder.
"But he looks so upset," the older one said, clucking her tongue and Snape started to reach for his wand. So what if had been years? he thought maliciously, still distracted by the throb in his groin. Avada Kedavra – it was like riding a bike. And they were standing so close. How could he possibly miss? He had nearly freed his wand from his robes, when Harry's hand closed over his. "Don't do anything rash, Severus."
"Poor dear," the oldest was still clucking in a very motherly way. "Problem with your wand?"
"Not anymore," Harry answered over Severus's shoulder.
Ollivander appeared from the back room of the shop. "See anything you like, Professor Snape?" he asked.
"Indeed," Snape answered with an evil grin. Snatching the small package Harry had set on the case, he spun the still dazed young man around and pushed him toward the exit.
"Enjoy your purchase, Mr. Potter," Ollivander called out as Snape propelled Harry through the door and into the street.
Harry's delighted laughter was the only response he received.
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