
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2127765.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      James_Potter/Severus_Snape
  Character:
      James_Potter, Severus_Snape, Sirius_Black, Horace_Slughorn
  Additional Tags:
      Violence, BDSM, Light_BDSM, Light_Dom/sub, Dom/sub, Mildly_Dubious
      Consent, Anal_Sex, Rough_Oral_Sex, Oral_Sex, Marauders, Underage_Sex,
      Underage_Kissing, Stalking, Power_Dynamics, Desk_Sex, Stripping,
      Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Established_Relationship, Unhealthy
      Relationships, First_Time_Topping, Body_Worship, Body_Hair, Hair-pulling,
      Podfic_Welcome
  Series:
      Part 1 of Pranks_and_Consequences
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-08-13 Words: 4218
****** Pranks ******
by queensusan
Summary
     A prank played on Severus has unexpected consequences.
     *it isn't as alarming as the tags suggest, I just wanted to make sure
     I covered any possible triggers*
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
James had to pause in a shadowy alcove outside the Slytherin common room to
catch his breath and push his partially hard erection back down in his pants. A
couple of Slytherin third year girls walked by, heads bent in solemn
conference, but hidden beneath his invisibility cloak no one could see when he
slipped his hand under the waistband of his jeans and palmed himself. It gave
him an illicit sort of thrill and he even chanced a moan, making the girls
flinch and look back cautiously. Seeing nothing to explain the noise they
scurried away anxiously, and James laughed at their backs though his chortle
ended in a gasp when he took himself in hand and squeezed, imagining for the
hundredth time that evening how good Snape would feel around his prick, his
throat or ass clamping tight around his flesh.
All evening he'd only been able to think of his meeting with Snape, even when
Sirius had wanted to talk about their recent prank and the way Snape's face had
gone purple with rage when he'd come back to his cauldron to find dragon dung
floating in his previously perfectly simmering potion. James and Sirius had
barely been able to choke down their glee when the potion had burbled like a
noxious geyser and a fat bubble of liquid burst, farting steam and spraying
droplets of potion and dung. Snape had let out what Sirius and James both
agreed was a scream and thrashed at his clothing, smearing the horrible stew
into his skin and creating vivid red rashes that James firmly assured himself
he did not feel guilty about.>
In the end Snape had to go to the hospital wing, furious tears streaming down
his face, while Slughorn clucked indulgently and wagged a fat finger at the
class, not even bothering to find the perpetrators. Snape was far too
unattractive and foul tempered to be a favorite of Sluggy's, despite his
obvious brilliance.
James and Sirius, both handsome and charismatic, got tipped a subtle wink for
their efforts, a tacit acknowledgment of a trick well played.
The high of the triumph had carried through into the evening, making James'
body light up with arousal in anticipation of the night's meeting with Snape.
Sometimes it still amazed him how in the past few months the two of them had
progressed from vicious fighting to clandestine fucking, and other times it
seemed the most natural thing in the world. James was good looking and
charming: he could have anyone he wanted and he chose Snape simply because he
was the easiest to have. The slightest bit of flirtation and the filthy
Slytherin, probably desperate for attention, had turned over and shown his
stomach like a worm. James had even convinced himself he was doing Snape a
favor, really. He'd probably have died a virgin if it hadn't been for James.
In his darker, more honest moments, however, he knew that he was as enthralled
with Snape as Snape clearly was with him. He knew he'd been fascinated with the
boy since the day he'd met him; acknowledged that his revulsion and hatred for
the boy had evolved into a lust that only increased with age. Unable to
reconcile his conflicting emotions, he'd turned on the boy more than ever,
hostility being easier to express than attraction until, almost by accident,
their sexual paths had finally crossed.
James waited in his darkened corner, hand in his pants and gently massaging,
while he watched the Slytherin common room. Within ten minutes the stone wall
shifted to reveal a hidden passage and Snape slithered out like a serpent, his
sallow face tipped down and his dark eyes darting this way and that. Finding no
one to observe his suspicious behavior, he turned to walk swiftly down the
hall, heading towards the abandoned classroom that he and James met at. James
followed stealthily, walking as close behind Snape as he could without chancing
detection.
He used the time to let his eyes travel hungrily over Snape's body, from his
stringy hair down to the sway of his practically nonexistent arse. Snape hadn't
filled in like most of the boys in sixth year; his wrists were delicate and his
ribs rippled beneath his skin, making James want to slide his fingers up and
down them, play them like piano keys and make the boy wriggle and choke on his
laughter.
James drew closer, close enough he could smell the boy as the displaced air
rippled behind him. He smelled like peppermint ointment and the hospital wing
and he was displeased, knowing beneath those scents Snape would be all warm,
potent masculinity with hints of earthiness, an odor unique to him. Snape never
seemed quite clean, even when his skin was humid and damp from a bath, but
James loved it. He liked to lick into Snape's ears or arsehole, taste the
coarsest parts of him. He'd press his nose to his armpits or groin and inhale,
breathing in the scent of concentrated boy.
Sometimes he'd thread his fingers through his greasy hair, massaging and
scraping at his scalp until his fingertips were oily and Snape was flushing
bright red and muttering something about his extra time in the potions
laboratory increasing sebum production. James would only mouth on the strands
of his hair and tell him not to bathe next time. He delighted in his baseness
and brilliance; his delightfully sharp edged boy.
They drew closer to the abandoned classroom and Snape, with one last suspicious
glance around, slipped inside with James close at his heels. The door stayed
open a little too long and Snape whipped around, his eyes narrowed
suspiciously.
“You're here,” he whispered accusingly. “Following me, Potter?”
James would never tire of watching Snape so he held back, his fingers gripped
around his cloak and his breath stagnant in his chest.
Snape fumed, his eyes darting around, but unable to locate him. “Show
yourself!” he barked impotently and clenched his fists when James remained
hidden. After a while he turned his chin away angrily. “I should just leave,”
he said, and his voice seemed to quaver a little. He was doubting himself now,
clearly uncertain if James was really there or even if the boy would come at
all. Did Snape wonder that every time? Did Snape hold his breath each week,
anticipating and wondering if this would be the week James lost interest and
moved on to more beautiful prey?
Snape slapped a childish hand against his thigh. “Why do I keep coming back?”
His unhappy voice sent a pang through James, made him take a step closer. The
urge to claim the boy and leave him in no doubt who he belonged to and who
wanted him, rose up inside him.
Snape finally turned his back on James and drew further into the room. He came
to stop in front of a long abandoned blackboard and James wondered if he would
write anything. A note to James, perhaps, telling him he wouldn't meet him
anymore? Snape only fiddled with the fastenings of his robes uncertainly before
reaching both hands up to withdraw it and let it fall to the floor. James
gasped quietly.
Snape didn't look around. Instead he wove his fingers around his tie and slid
it under his collar and down, so that it coiled like a snake on the floor. The
shirt followed and Snape's bare torso was revealed, blue and shadowed in the
dim light of the dark room. Snape's slender, delicate body was beautiful under
the fabric that normally concealed him. He had a waist so slender that
sometimes James wrapped both hands around him, just to see his thumbs framing
his navel. He'd kiss that tiny space where his hands were almost large enough
to span the distance and delve his tongue into the shallow depth of his navel
until Snape trembled and blushed.
James moaned and Snape froze with his fingers on his belt, his ears all but
perking up to follow the noise. After a few moments his shoulders relaxed. His
movements became slow and sensual as he unbuckled his belt and slid it out of
the loops. He doubled up the leather and snapped it smartly against his thigh
before trailing it over his groin. His arse rolled into the sensation and his
back arched, his shoulder blades bunching up into mountains and valleys under
the smooth blanket of skin. “James,” he cried softly and he tipped his head
back. “Please.”
It was too much for James. It was the first time Snape had called him by his
name and it sent blood thundering through his veins on a surge of adrenaline.
“Severus,” he groaned, trying out the name, and slid out from under his cloak,
letting it fall behind him. It was the work of three steps to come up behind
him and slide his hands around his perfect waist.
Snape's body cracked like a whip, his narrow frame jerking to the side and his
arms shooting up behind him. James caught one glimpse of the belt looped like a
noose as it arced overhead before he felt a line of fire lash against the back
of his neck and he was yanked. He stumbled forward hard, tipping off balance as
gravity worked against him . He wasn't fast enough to throw up his arms to
brace himself and he slammed face first against the blackboard, one cheekbone
taking the brunt of the force and sending fireworks up behind his eyelids. His
glasses broke on impact and the frames stabbed into his eye sockets and he
slumped, too stunned to fight back.
“Incarcerous!” the boy screamed before James had a chance to regain his
bearings and James' back bowed and stretched as his wrists flew together above
his head. Ropes cut sharply into his skin and bound his arms tightly together
from wrist to elbow before winding around his neck and upper torso. If James
stretched his neck too far the ropes clenched tight, making him choke and gasp
on his bindings.
James twisted around to try and defend himself, but he was too late. Snape had
one hand pressed against the side of his face, crushing his throbbing cheekbone
against the blackboard and one knee wedged up high between his shoulder blades.
Under normal circumstances James, with his superior weight and musculature,
would have had no problem throwing him off, but anything beyond the shallowest
movements tightened his complex network of ropes and cut off his air supply. He
felt a hand rummage in his pocket and his wand was taken and thrown to the
side. He could distantly hear it hit the opposite wall.
James thrashed tightly within his confines. “What are you doing?” he snarled
through clenched teeth, but Snape just smiled nastily and pushed him harder
against the blackboard.
“Did you think I'd just bend over and present my arsehole after your trick
today, Potter?” When James only glared Severus gripped his fingers in his messy
hair and slammed his face against the blackboard again. James gasped brokenly
as his teeth seemed to be knocked around in his mouth and a cut was torn in his
lip, making bright, coppery warmth bloom on his tongue. He was too stunned to
scream, even when the offended cheekbone shrieked with pain under the
onslaught. His eyes were streaming now, great angry tears that the pain made
impossible to hold back.
“Did you think you could break me?” Snape's voice wasn't hysterical. It was
calm and deadly, the mettle deep inside Snape finally showing, like an exposed
bone in a deep cut. “Has this just been a test to see how much of your shit I'd
put up with? Or did you want to see how long you could push me before I pushed
back?” Snape twisted his fingers in James' hair and wrenched, making his scalp
tingle and flare. “Dogs bite when they're cornered, Potter,” he snarled.
James realized that, horribly, his dick had not wilted at all. Every jagged
lightning bolt of pain from his face streaked right down to his cock, making it
throb and jerk. James moaned and rolled his eyes back at Snape mutely. He was
waiting to see what happened, he realized. He was stunned, yes, but more than
that he was intrigued. A strange thought occurred to him: had this been what
he'd been waiting for all along? Had he pushed at Snape, just waiting to see
what the boy was capable of when he was angry and desperate?
Snape was glorious like this, with red in his cheeks and his thin lips curled
over his crooked, off white teeth.
“What are you going to do, Snape?” he asked around soft, panting little gasps.
“Gonna get a bit of your own back? Watch me cry?” He tipped his head back as
far as he could so he could see Snape's face, could look into his dark, fiery
eyes. “Are you gonna fuck me?”
Snape finally looked startled. He searched Jame's eyes, his black ones
flickering back and forth between them. James felt pierced, like a bug under a
pin.
“You want to see what I'll do,” Snape said, almost as though he could read
James' mind.
James said nothing, unable to give voice to his desire. He held his gaze
though, daring Snape to be as terrible and appalling as he knew he could be.
Snape released him and stepped back. His wand was gripped tightly in his hand
and pointed at James, though no new curses hit him, even when he winced and
turned cautiously, holding his arms out so that he was not strangled. He
slumped against the blackboard and watched Snape warily.
Snape bit his lip and then twitched his wand. His fractured vision became clear
again as the glass in his spectacles reformed and it felt like his cheekbone
was under tremendous pressure before it began to release in throbbing waves,
pain fading away to be replaced by warmth. He could actually feel the split in
his lip knitting back together, though the trace of blood on his tongue
lingered.
“You can't suck me like that,” Snape scoffed defensively, and James cautiously
worked his face, relieved to feel the muscles pull smoothly and painlessly.
Snape's hard prick pressed insistently against the placket of his trousers and
his thin chest was heaving. “Crawl,” he snapped, pointing his wand imperiously
at his feet. The ropes around James loosened a little so that he could move
without throttling himself but he was still awkward and unbalanced as he
struggled to his knees. His cheeks burned with titillated humiliation but Snape
just watched him hungrily as James shuffled forward until his face was buried
in Snape's crotch. He rubbed his chin and nose against his clothed cock and
parted his mouth to run his teeth along the shaft.
“You're best on your knees,” Snape whispered and James shot him a hot look, not
bothering to contradict him and not even wanting to.
“I think about your fat cock in mouth at night, when I'm in bed and wanking,
Snape,” he admitted, looking up at Snape with wild eyes. “I dream about
crawling under your desk in Potions and letting you fuck my mouth while you
work.”
Snape sucked in a harsh breath and his eyes blazed hungrily. James grinned,
feeling hot with power, despite his position. Making Snape react had him so
turned on his skin felt itchy and too tight. He bit hard around the zipper of
Snape's fly and pulled, making Snape's hips sway into him. “Now, Severus.”
Snape groaned, whether at the invitation or his name on Jame's tongue, and
fumbled with the button on his trousers. His hands were shaking so badly James'
arms twitched to assist him, but they remained tightly bound, held out between
Snape's legs stiffly.
Snape managed to yank his trousers and pants down mid thigh and his cock sprang
out on a wave of humid air. James moaned and pressed forward, nosing along his
testicles and breathing deep. He ran his tongue along the base and took in a
mouthful of inky black pubic hair, letting the wiry strands tickle his tongue
and scrape against his teeth.
“Disgusting,” Snape muttered, but James could feel the tension in the trembling
of his hips as the boy clearly fought to control his arousal. Severus gripped
James' hair and guided his mouth to his cock impatiently. “Bite me and I'll
kill you,” he swore, but there wasn't room in James' brain to consider revenge
when his cock was so hard in his jeans. Now he closed his eyes and threw
himself into the blow job, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked furiously. Soon
Snape was rocking his hips in to meet James' mouth and James was struggling
under the assault, his throat making meaty, glottal sounds that were obscene in
the silent classroom.
“Enough,” Snape said hoarsely and pushed at James' shoulder until he withdrew.
“I want to fuck you, Potter.” Snape's tone was bold, but his body was tense and
his eyes uncertain; James had never let Snape fuck him before, despite Snape's
mutinous grumbles.
The Slytherin looked down in his face, again staring into his eyes fiercely, as
though he could peer right into James' soul. James wondered if Snape would
insist anyway, if he refused, but ultimately the decision was easy. “How?”
Triumph lit up Snape's sallow face. “On the desk.”
James clumsily got to his feet and bent over the desk.
“No, the other way,” Snape ordered and James, feeling a little disoriented,
turned. Snape was standing nearer than he had been and James closed his eyes
and breathed in deeply through his nose when he felt the boy grapple with his
jeans, tearing them away aggressively and shoving them down his legs. Snape
pulled his shoes and socks off and then pushed James so his arse perched on the
edge of the desk. And then, to his surprise, James felt the ropes on his arms
loosen. His eyes popped back open and he found his arms totally unencumbered.
He flexed them stiffly and looked at Snape cautiously. He thought, briefly, of
punching Snape in his ugly mouth.
Snape seemed to be struggling with himself. “You could fight me now,” he
muttered finally.
James frowned. Did Snape want him to fight? Oh, but then he understood. Snape
wouldn't ask for consent outright and James wasn't ready to give it in words,
either. Instead he reached out and pulled Snape between his thighs and leaned
forward to capture his mouth in a kiss. They'd kissed before but not
frequently; it was intimate on a level neither was comfortable with. His tongue
squirmed against Snape's crooked teeth until Snape kissed him back and the kiss
became sloppy and nasty: too much saliva and stale after dinner breath.
“Do it, then,” James moaned against his mouth and he flinched when Snape thrust
a hand between his legs, wriggling a dry finger against his hole. A silent
spell later and Snape's finger slipped right into James' suddenly wet and loose
passage. James had taught him that spell, never imagining it would be used
against him- or that he'd come to want it.
Snape drew back and pressed James down so that his back hit the desk. He
grabbed him around his knees and pulled him forward until his arse hung over
the side. James had never felt so vulnerable in his life; he wanted to close
his legs, protect himself, but Snape was too quick. He pushed between them so
James' thighs bracketed his hips and he thrust against him, the tip of his
prick striking his arse several times before he got a hand down to aim
properly.
James' back arched off the desk and his teeth clamped down to hold in his
squawk when Snape's stabbing cock slid home. The spell had made him too loose
for it to be painful, but it was a shocking invasion. “Yessss,” the Slytherin
hissed like a snake.
James wanted to complain but Snape's hips snapped sharply into him, making the
Gryffindor's mouth fall open to suck air instead. Snape was still staring hard
into his eyes, reading every reaction on his face and apparently judging his
actions on whatever he saw. Snape grinned in triumph when James' eyes flew wide
and his mouth gaped around his moan as Snape's thrusting prick rubbed against
his prostate.
“Merlin,” James groaned and writhed beneath him. His hands flew up to clench
around Snape's forearms. “Oh, Merlin!” He wanted to come up with something more
coherent, but he couldn't. It felt so fucking good he could only clamp his legs
around Snape's meager waist and tilt his pelvis up, seeking those deep,
throbbing notes of pleasure.
“Say my name,” Snape growled above him. He bent low enough to nuzzle against
James' ear. His teeth bit at his earlobe and yanked almost painfully. “You'll
say my name when I fuck you.”
“Yes, please, Severus,” James panted, and it seemed to light a fire in Snape.
Snape wrapped both arms around James' thighs and fucked him fast, his hips and
testicles slapping against his arse noisily and his breath coming in harsh
pants through his clenched teeth. James' reached down to palm his cock but had
to abandon it in favor of bracing himself, his fingers scrabbling on the edges
of the desk and elbows digging in to just hang on as Snape's thrusts pushed him
jerkily across the surface of it.
'He's going to push me off,' James thought wildly, and then Snape cried and
cursed and arched into James, his hips vibrating desperately through tiny,
rabbit fast strokes as he came inside him. James moaned with delight when
Snape's tight face suddenly released and smoothed out with slack jawed
pleasure, looking unexpectedly lovely.
Snape kept his eyes closed as he came down from the high of his orgasm. He
pressed his forehead against James' knee and his breath hissed through his
overlarge nose, but he otherwise remained silent. James wondered if he could
get away with jerking himself off, and then wondered why he was waiting for
permission. When he tentatively reached for his cock, however, Snape opened his
eyes and pushed his hand away.
“No,” he said gruffly, and to James' surprise the Slytherin clambered up onto
the desk and sat down astride James' hips.
“What-” he began, but screamed hoarsely when Snape lifted up on his knees and
then slid down hard onto James' cock. He was loose and wet and molten hot
around him; he'd apparently prepared himself when he'd used the spell on James.
“Fuck,” he whimpered and his hands flew to Snape's hips as the boy took up a
hard, grinding rhythm that had James teetering on the edge of orgasm in
moments.
“Severus,” he groaned and tried to get his feet on the desk for leverage to
fuck up into Snape, but couldn't. “Please.”
Snape smiled sardonically and braced himself on James' chest. He lifted up
sharply and then dropped down on his cock, over and over until James was
curling up and smothering his shout on the boy's shoulder as waves of tension
and release broke over his body. He jerked and twitched through it and then
collapsed back onto the desk, making a small cloud of dust rise up around them.
James sneezed and a smile that wasn't quite unkind twitched up one corner of
Snape's mouth and James responded with a tentative smile of his own.
The Slytherin continued to squat on top of him. His own prick was flaccid now
and a little disgusting, wet and speckled with drying cum, but his arse
continued to clench around James stubbornly, drawing out the pleasure
lingeringly. “Tomorrow you're telling Black and the rest about us.”
“Huh?” James grunted dizzily.
Snape leaned over him and pressed a hand, firm but not choking, down on James'
throat. His lips were set and determined. “Things are going to be different
now, James. Tomorrow you're telling anyone who will listen who you belong to.
No more tricks. No more games. You're mine and it's time you acknowledge it.”
Stark images of Sirius' horrified face swam before his mind's eye. Remus and
Peter might forgive him, but Sirius would never understand. James looked up at
Snape, wide eyed. But if he didn't... he could see it in the boy's face: this
would be over if James resisted.
Beneath Snape's hard gaze there lurked the barest hint of vulnerability,
however. Snape didn't know what James' decision would be any more than James
did.
But James wanted him. Oh, how his body longed to be near Snape; how he'd been
drawn to the boy for years in ways he'd yet to fully understand. It was
frightening, to want someone so much that the only expression of his obsession
was to force him away until he could bear to be apart from him no longer. But
what would he do with such a wild thing, if he did possess him? How could one
hold onto fire and not be burned?
How could he give it up?
James bit his lip and looked away. After a moment he nodded.
End Notes
     For my friend Abbeyjewel, who loves Snames as much as I do! The dom/
     sub elements are for her, though I think she might be a little
     surprised by where this went! *evil laugh*
     Check out her Snames fic too!: http://archiveofourown.org/works/
     2117295
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
