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ENVY THE ROSE or Naked Howling Freedom Friday. Shit. Tomorrow was Draco's all-day detention with those worthless mudbloods. It was totally unfair. They'd been the ones prancing around, making fools of themselves *and* Slytherin, he'd just tried to put a stop to it. He'd been trying all week to persuade Professor Snape that he didn't deserve detention. He'd tried everything. Well, maybe not *everything*. Worth a shot, anyway. Today was his last chance. Potions class was boring. Bloody stupid night vision ointment. Who needed that, when a light spell was so easy? But he lingered after the students were dismissed, trying *not* to look Snape in the eye. Teachers really ate up that respect shit. "Mr. Malfoy." Snape sounded weary. "Dare I hope that you are loitering in hope of clarification on the proper proportions of bilberry juice to shrew's whisker in Oculus Nyx?" "Um, not exactly." Draco flashed what he considered to be his most winning smile. "You see, it's about tomorrow--" "When you and your fellow miscreants will be meeting me in the Slytherin Common Room at Eight A.M. precisely, yes." "About that..." "Have I been unclear in any way?" Draco shifted his shoulders uneasily, and tried not to whine. "I was hoping maybe you let me do some, you now, *extra credit* work instead." "Given the quality of your work in today's class, Mr. Malfoy, I can't see how any more of it would be a credit to you." Draco tried to follow Snape's words, rather than getting lost in the rich cadence of his voice. He flicked his wand at the door. "Arceo." It obligingly swung shut. Draco made his way through the empty classroom to where Snape stood. "Don't be mad at me," he breathed, "I only want to please you." He dropped to the floor, pressing his cheek against the toe of Snape's left boot. "I want to please you," he repeated, "I want to make you proud of me." Snape shifted his toe so it was under Draco's chin and lifted it, forcing the boy to look up at him. "Pride, Mr. Malfoy, is entirely too much in your thoughts. It is perhaps the least becoming thing about you. Forget pride." Draco's neck was fully extended by the boot beneath his chin. It seemed as if he could feel the frantic beat of his pulse in his naked throat. Snape loomed over him, dark, commanding, and oh-so-terrifyingly exciting. A tremor went through Draco's body, and an anxious heat kindled in his belly. "S-sorry, sir," he gasped, "I don't mean to displease you." "Don't mean to displease *yourself*, you mean, you selfish little trollop," snarled Snape, yanking away his boot so quickly that Draco cracked his chin on the dungeon floor. With the same foot, he nudged Draco none-too-gently onto his back, and laid the sole of his boot on the boy's chest, the toe nestling roughly into the hollow of his throat. "All your pretty playacting can't disguise the fact that everything you do is strictly for your own immediate gratification. You live entirely in the present, and entirely for yourself. When, you grasping, meretricious brat, have you ever tried to please someone else?" Draco closed his eyes, and laid limply on the floor. It wasn't as if Snape were lying, after all. But what option had he ever had? If you wanted something, you had to take it. If someone got in your way, you had to find a way to bring them down. And you could never, ever show weakness, or you'd be the one to go. Only a naive fool though life worked any differently. He gasped at a momentary increase of pressure as Snape knelt on one leg beside him. "Yet you keep saying you want to please me," Snape mused. He gripped Draco's forehead with one hand, grinding his head against the stone floor. "Why is that?" Draco shuddered, and tried to fight the tears rising in his eyes. "I just want to be yours," he blurted, half sobbing. "I want to be worthy of your l-" he snapped his mouth closed before it could betray him further. He must have said the wrong thing. Ruined everything. Of course he had. Snape stiffened and removed his foot, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Draco. The hand that had been pressed so firmly against his forehead now cradled the back of his skull. When Snape spoke, it was in a quiet, measured tone. "Potent words, Mr. Malfoy." He stroked the boy's cheek with his thumb. "I might almost believe their sincerity, if only your actions bore them out." Draco tilted his head just enough to kiss Snape's thumb, "Please," he whispered. "Please tell me what to do." He expected to be beaten, scolded, thrown out; expected anything but Snape pulling his head into his lap and gently stroking his hair. "That's a start, lad," he murmured. It was too much. Draco began to weep outright, fists clenched, shoulders heaving. Snape sat him up and handed him a handkerchief. "Robes. Snot. Bad combo, remember?" He put an arm around the boy's quaking shoulders. "Do you really want to know what would please me?" Draco nodded, sniffling. "Stop being such an insufferable brat! Stop showing up uninvited on my doorstep; stop whining and showing off instead of paying attention in class. Stop spending all your free time bitching about how unfair life is and start improving yourself for a change." Draco stared at him, hurt and bewildered. His mouth moved soundlessly. "I'm serious, boy. You expect everything to be handed to you on a silver platter just because of whose son you are. That may be very well up to a point but without the knowledge and honed ability to back it up, your family reputation isn't going to do you any good." Unexpectedly, he kissed Draco softly on the forehead. "You need discipline, Draco. You need focus. Coddling you won't give you those things." How dare he! No-one spoke to Draco Malfoy like that, no-one! No-one....no-one told him the truths he didn't want to acknowledge so plainly. No-one had those keen dark eyes that peered into his very soul. No-one had that rich smooth voice, that scoured and caressed at the same time. No-one but Severus Snape. Draco stared at his teacher in helpless confusion, the play of emotions within him dizzying. The rising despair and rage were almost comforting in their familiarity, the warm tremor of lust likewise, but this sensation of devotion was unsettling, and even more so the faint brush of.... was it hope? He wanted to scream his defiance, wanted to run from the room, wanted to kill this man who said such unwelcome and incisive things about him... He slumped face-down on the cold floor. "Help me," he whimpered, barely audible. "I'm so empty inside..." Snape's hand on the back of his neck, firm and consoling with its steady grip. "I'm here, Draco. It can be all right. You can be more than a pretty shell." Surely Draco was imagining the slight quaver in his voice? "It's too late for me.." "Oh, Draco, no..." Snape swept him into a fierce embrace and kissed him, lightly but decisively. Draco leaned into the kiss, tightening his arms around the older man, swaying against him and returning the kiss with a fiery passion. "Please," Draco murmured into Snape's mouth, "Please don't send me away." "Shhh." Draco relaxed at the sensation of Snape's hands, caressing him firmly. He didn't really notice when their clothes came off, just registered the warmth of skin-on-skin, and the feel of Snape lightly biting his was down his throat and chest. When Snape sucked greedily at one of his nipples, it was all Draco could do not to scream; the man's tongue felt as rough as a cat's. Draco reached for him, eager to get his hands on Snape's meaty cock, but Snape pinned both of his hands against the floor with one of his own. "No... be still now." Snape chuckled deep in his throat. "You can do that, can't you? Just lie still. To please me." A quiver ran through Draco's skin at that. He struggled not to move as Snape blew a stream of warm air across his belly, then lapped teasingly at his inner thighs. A tremor shook him and he clenched his jaw as his teacher gripped his buttocks and, lifting them, ran his tongue between them, flicking maddeningly lightly at his asshole, then slithering inside like the serpent that symbolized their House. And it was by sheer force of will that he kept from thrashing about as the man took his aching cock into his mouth in a single sure motion, the sheer power of the moment so overwhelming it was all he could do not to come in that very instant. But Draco's willpower did not hold out for long in that arena. Snape's skilled tongue brought him to the brink in mere seconds, and soon he lost out on his efforts at stillness as his hips bucked of their own accord, and he was helpless with the force of the orgasm that wracked his body. Timeless, that moment of peace, on the cool stone floor. Draco lay in a drifting half-doze, smiling sleepily as Snape hugged him close, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "You'd best be getting to bed, Mr.. Malfoy," he said softly. "We have an appointment at Eight A.M. tomorrow." |