Don't Let It Die
"What have you done, Potter?"
"Er... I've added the porcupine quills to the potion, sir."
"But, Mr Potter, this is absolutely correct! And I see there's nothing wrong with your potion! What are you up to?"
"Er, I don't know, sir. I'm feeling weird."
"Oh... I see... Come with me."
Dragging the student by his arm, Snape left his classroom in a hurry, under the astonished eyes of the other students. He entered through a door in the dungeons, closed it and pressed Harry against the wall.
"I'm sorry, Mr Potter, but I think I will have to kiss you."
And Snape took Harry's lips in a passionate, feverish kiss. The boy whimpered and opened his mouth, wrapping his arms around his teacher's waist. The strangest thing of all was that Harry was liking it very much. When Snape broke the kiss, Harry felt very empty inside.
"What... what's happening, professor? I've never..."
"I know, Potter. As I suspected, we have been jinxed by a slasher."
"A slasher?" asked Harry, pressing his hips against his professor's, eager for more contact.
Snape gasped and, burying his face in the boy's neck, murmured in his ear. "It happens, sometimes. It's unpredictable. And there are all kinds of slashers. I only hope this one doesn't favour non-con or rape fic."
"If a non-con slasher jinxes you, you are forced to have non-consensual sex, or even rape your partner."
"Oh... I don't think it's one of those, because... I want you to... you know."
"Don't be ashamed, Potter. You are not yourself right now, just as much as I am not myself. Come here, let's go to my bedroom."
Only then Harry noticed that they were in Snape's private quarters. Snape took his hand gently and led him from the sitting room to the austere bedroom, which had only a bed, a bedside table and a wardrobe. No mirrors.
Always holding the younger wizard's hand, Snape pulled Harry against himself and kissed him, this time more intensely, ravaging Harry's mouth with deep strokes of his tongue. Soon they were lying on the bed, kissing and caressing and removing each other's clothes, longing for a skin-to-skin contact.
"Look," said Snape, in a hoarse voice, "I don't know if this is a first-time story..."
"Er, if you're asking me if I've done this before, the answer is 'no'."
"Damn. I hope this slasher will let me prepare you conveniently - I mean, if I am to top."
"Have you done this before?"
"Not with a boy. Not even with a man."
"So you're not gay either. It's so strange." Harry stroked Snape's greasy hair. "I want this so much. And I don't want this to end. What do you think will happen?"
"It depends on the slasher. Some of them like to end with just a kiss. But we passed this stage a few minutes ago..." While speaking, Snape managed to open the bedside table's drawer and produce a phial of lube. "Other slashers go on until their victims have sex, then they interrupt the spell. But there are others who keep tormenting their victims on and on, in the so-called 'sequels' or even 'series'."
Snape poured a lot of lube on his fingers. "At least we have some lube, Harry."
"I like when you call me by my first name."
"Harry," Snape repeated, this time in a tender tone, introducing a finger into the boy's entrance.
"Oh, Severus, this is so good!"
"It will get better and better. Just relax. Now I'm going to put a second finger in."
Severus's fingers were doing magic inside Harry.
"So good, Severus. I want more."
Severus removed his fingers and put Harry's legs over his shoulders. Severus's cock entered him smoothly. It felt so wonderful, so right. How could Severus be so possessive and yet so tender? Severus's cock thrust in a slow, steady rhythm, the movement of his hips rocking Harry back and forth. Harry closed his eyes, totally focused on the feelings flowing between them.
It seemed to go on forever, Severus's cock invading and retreating, shooting spasms of pleasure through his whole body.
They came together in blissful ecstasy.
When the spasms subsided, Harry framed Snape's face in his hands. "I don't want this to stop. I don't want you to hate me again!"
"I'm sorry, Harry, but this is not who we really are. This is an illusion. When it ends - and I think the end is near - we'll go back to our old selves. You will find me as ugly and mean as before, and I will hate you for being an insufferable brat."
"Isn't there anything we can do to change this?"
"I don't think there is, Harry. I don't think this story will have a sequel. The only way for us to be together is if another slasher jinxes us again. Kiss me again, Harry, before we come to
Ptyx, October 2004