WARNING: This is a slash story, which means it contains male/male erotic content involving consenting adults. If you're not of legal age or are offended by such material, please go find something else to read.

TITLE: In the Shower
BY: Minx

EMAIL: miraminx@yahoo.com
PAIRING: SS/Oliver Wood
RATING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: J. K. Rowling owns these delectable lads. And Quidditch. And the locker rooms… So why isn’t she having more fun with them?
SUMMARY: What was Oliver really doing in the shower in PoA for all that time?
NOTES: Part of the Severus Snape Fuh-Q Fest; response to SS/OW pairing.

Severus Snape paced through the changing rooms, doing his rounds after the Quidditch match. With Sirius Black on the loose security had been doubled, and Dumbledore insisted that students not be allowed to linger in the locker rooms after matches. It had fallen to Snape to inspect the area today. He had already determined that the Hufflepuffs were back at Hogwarts celebrating their unlikely victory over Gryffindor. He spared an irritated thought for Potter and his latest miraculous survival; the boy seemed determined to drive Snape into an early grave with anxiety and rage.

He heard the noise of running water inside the Gryffindor changing room, and entered silently. It was always so much more entertaining to sneak up on the little brats. He walked past the rows of lockers, examining each row. Nothing. Just the shower, but he couldn’t hear any voices. Cautiously he peered into the L-shaped showers, and froze.

A young man&emdash;boy, thought Snape frantically, boy&emdash;stood in the corner, back to Snape, one hand resting for support against the wall. The water cascaded down his sleekly muscled form, over his fair head, his broad shoulders, his beautifully detailed back, his firm, rounded buttocks&emdash;Snape tried to wrench his eyes away, and failed utterly. He thought suddenly of a Greek statue he had seen in the British Museum, a young athlete stripped and resting after exercise. A slight moan. Snape was momentarily horrified until he realized it had come from the room’s other occupant. The boy’s other arm was moving; he was masturbating.

Vexed by his own arousal, Snape said disdainfully, "Well, well, well. I see, Mr. Wood, that you are living up to your name." He took a step forward into the tiled shower.

Wood stopped moving. "Professor Snape." He didn’t sound embarrassed, or shocked, or humiliated, or any of the other things Snape had expected. But he didn’t turn around.

"A little post-match consolation wank? Thinking perhaps of one of your lovely Chasers? Miss Spinnet? A little scrawny, that one. Or Miss Bell?" Snape was still hard, still angry with himself. "Several of my Slytherins have had her, or so they say."

Wood turned abruptly. Snape forced himself to keep his gaze fixed on the young man’s&emdash;boy’s&emdash;face, the creamy skin, the straight brows drawn together a little over the dark eyes, the full lips… "Professor Snape."

"What?" Snape snapped back.

"That’s who I was thinking of." Incredibly, Wood leaned back against the tiled wall, drawing his hand over his torso and down to his impressive cock, still erect. He was&emdash;he wasn’t&emdash;he was&emdash;Snape boggled. His eyes were transmitting the information to his brain, but his mind was refusing to process it.

"What?" He said again, in honest shock.

The boy licked his lips. "I was thinking of you." He fisted his cock almost lazily. "Thinking of the way you sweep around your dungeons. Thinking of your hands on your&emdash;ladle&emdash;as you stir your cauldron." Snape had never before heard anyone make the word ‘ladle’ sound simultaneously nasty and delicious. "Thinking of your voice." He lifted his eyes to Snape’s. "And then you were here."

Oh, god. Oh, god. This was a fantasy sprung to life and a total nightmare. "Wood, this is completely&emdash;"

And then Wood was standing in front of him. How the hell had he gotten there? Snape tried to back away, but came up against the wall after only a half-step. The young man dropped to his knees.

"Get up, Wood." Snape’s voice was surprising weak.

That handsome face looked up at him from, oh god, crotch level. "No." Then deft hands wrenched Snape’s robes open, unfastened his trousers with suspiciously knowing speed, and touched his prick.

It was Snape’s turn to moan. He tried to disguise it. "No, you &emdash;good god!" The luscious lips wrapped around him. His last remaining qualm fell away with scarcely a struggle as his erection sank into the hot mouth. His hands fell onto the wet head, tangled through the fair, damp hair, gripped the muscular shoulders. Wood sucked him strongly, teasing his prick with an astoundingly active tongue. One of the skilled hands pushed his trousers down around his knees and then returned to grasp the base of his cock, pumping him in rhythm with the mouth’s forceful sucking. Teeth scraped lightly over his swollen head; he dug his fingers into Wood’s back. Another hand clasped his tight balls, then delved between his cheeks. Snape was going straight to hell, or at least on the dole if anyone else found out about this little escapade, and he was going there with a smile on his face. A finger probed him cautiously; when Snape responded by trying to spread his legs, it plunged in enthusiastically. All the while the far too expert mouth and hand worked over his straining cock, tongue vibrating over him, teeth adding the slightest of nips. Another finger entered him, joined the first in scissoring Snape open. He screamed&emdash;and how long had it been since he did that?&emdash;and came, bellowing, into the gorgeous mouth.

His knees buckled. Wood rose to his feet, took Snape into his strong arms, and kissed him firmly. He tasted himself on that fresh young mouth, and moaned again. It was the taste of sin. The taste of heaven. Wood spun him against the wall, hauled his robes up, kicked his legs apart, and entered him in one go. Snape yowled again. Wood was unheeding. He fucked Snape relentlessly, panting into his ear. Slowly the pounding in his ass became bearable, then pleasurable as the invading prick raked over his prostate repeatedly. Snape reached back, grabbed one of Wood’s hands, and brought it to his newly-forming erection. Wood stroked him enthusiastically, nipping his ear and neck. Snape braced his hands against the wall so he could shove back into Wood’s thrusts. He was amazed at his renewed arousal and determined to make the most of it. Wood rewarded Snape’s participation by slamming into him even harder and yanking urgently on his now painfully hard cock. Snape turned his head and looked at Wood’s flushed face and parted lips. Wood’s free hand slid down and caressed Snape’s balls; his hot face dropped into the crook of Snape’s neck. The soft lips kissed his neck with surprising gentleness as Wood continued his ferocious fucking. Abruptly every nerve in Snape’s body sent an dart of heat/light to his balls; what felt like a supernova went off at the base of his cock and he yelled his orgasm to the tiled wall. Wood made a triumphant noise and drove in a final time, pumping his come into Snape’s battered ass. They stood together, propped against the wall, for an oddly comfortable moment. Wood eased out and kissed the back of Snape’s neck.

"Mr. Wood. I am going to have to give you a detention." He pulled up his trousers and turned around, looking openly now at the perfect body.

Wood’s mouth dropped open. If Snape hadn’t just had two&emdash;two &emdash;astounding orgasms, he would have been stirred by the sight. "What&emdash;what for?"

"I believe the appropriate phrase is ‘mouthing off’ to an instructor," Snape purred. "Tomorrow night. Nine o’clock." He took a moment to savor the smile spreading over the delectable lips, then swept away.

From behind him Wood said, "Oh yes, Professor." Then, in a whisper, "You sexy bitch."

Snape turned. "That will be another detention. And Oliver. This naughty behavior of yours? Do try to keep it up."


-end-

 

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