Come Play in the Dungeons
Apr. 25th, 2011 12:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
talekaylerFirst of all, I want to throw out an apology. I feel like I've been neglecting my flist, but I've been felling so blarg lately, and I can't summon up the energy to do much of anything, lately. I haven't forgotten you guys, and there is much love for you all! ♥ So have fic! :D
Title: Come and Play in the Dungeons
Word count: 4378
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Draco/Harry/Severus
Contains: Cross-dressing, a small bit of spanking and a hint of roleplay and breathplay
Summary: In detention with Malfoy, Harry is the only one doing the work assigned. Then Draco has the brilliant idea to transform Harry’s robe into something more suitable.
A/N: I’ve gotten sucked into the world of Drapery/Snarco again, and guh. I didn’t think I’d ever write any, until a few days ago. Of course, there’s a Chatzy for that. Entermisbehavingmom, thepretender501 and talekayler, the dilemma of cleaning and housework. Solution is: fifi!Draco and fifi!Harry cleaning for Snape. ♥ ♥ ♥
All mistakes are mine, as this is unbetaed! I think I looked at it too long.
--
Harry grumbled as he bent over the lip of the cauldron, straining to reach the bottom to scrub off the caked on muck there.
‘This really isn’t fair,’ he thought, ‘why am I the only one cleaning?’ He shot a glare over to where Malfoy was lounging back in his chair, feet up on the desk and picking absently at imaginary lint on his robe.
“Plan on doing any work at all, Malfoy?” Harry asked.
Malfoy quirked an eyebrow at him. “Why should I?”
Harry straightened from his hunched position. “Oh, I dunno, maybe because you’re supposed to be doing this detention, too? Maybe because it’s your fault our potion was ruined?”
The front legs of the chair connected with the stone floor with a loud thump. “My fault? Need I remind you, Potter, that it was you who put in the armadillo bile too quickly? Without turning down the heat and before the snake skin was shredded over it?”
“Yeah, well you never –” never stopped me, Harry had been about to say, but stopped quickly. At the look of triumph in Malfoy’s eyes, though, it appeared to be a lost cause.
“Exactly, Potter. Though maybe, if you had been listening before, you would have remembered that I had mentioned something previously? Or that Snape had gone through the instructions extensively before he assigned partners?” He sneered. “Waste of a potion.”
Harry threw his rag down. “It’s still your fault,” he persisted. “Why else would Snape give you a detention?”
Malfoy’s look soured. “Shouldn’t you be cleaning Potter?” he asked snidely. He waved a hand over to where Harry’s rag lay on the floor in a dirty, wet lump.
Harry refrained from growling and snatched the rag up. “Fine,” he said, “but don’t come crying to me when Snape reprimands you for not doing your share of work.” Of course, Harry didn’t think that would ever happen, but it felt good to say it anyways. Malfoy said nothing and went back to smoothing his robes out.
Ten minutes later, Malfoy’s cold drawl broke the silence. “You know Potter, I don’t think you’re dressed appropriately for this.”
“How the hell am I supposed to be dressed for mucking out a cauldron, Malfoy?” Harry spun around and glared at him.
Malfoy’s smirk was positively predatory. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said, running his eyes up and down Harry’s figure. Harry felt heat rise in his cheeks, and he beat it down. It was a losing battle, though, and Malfoy knew it as well.
Malfoy stood from his seat and strolled towards Harry. Harry’s hand clenched around the sodden rag in his hand, and he stared back defiantly. Malfoy circled him slowly, humming as he did so and making little noises in the back of his throat. Harry dropped the rag in the cauldron, heard it land with a splat, and crossed his arms over his chest defensively. He turned as Malfoy walked around him, never taking his eyes from Malfoy’s face.
Malfoy came to a halt after he had completed his circle and rubbed his chin with a palm. There was a look in his eye that Harry did not like, not one little bit. He glowered.
“I think,” Malfoy drawled slowly, “that this will do the trick.” And then he waved his wand in a complicated manner and mumbled something under his breath that Harry couldn’t quite catch.
Harry’s sucked in a breath when he felt his clothes beginning to change. They shortened rapidly, and far too much, growing layers of ruffles and tightening around his hips and chest. He could feel the cold of the dungeon air against his legs and suppressed a shiver.
He didn’t dare believe it when he saw what Malfoy had done. A maids’ uniform, like that of the ones in those old soap operas aunt Petunia liked to watch, the ones that were all black and white and grainy. Only this one was much more… indecent. There was a short black skirt that stopped well above the knee, complete with the white apron, frills, and black stockings. A black leather corset covered his middle, tightly tied closed, and stopping just below his nipples. The straps were thin little things that barely stayed on his shoulders, and in all honesty, didn’t really seem to be doing much. Bloody fuck, there was even a ribbon around his throat. His hand scrabbled at it in a vain attempt to loosen it, but it didn’t budge at all.
Harry looked up at Malfoy furiously. “Fishnet stockings? Really, Malfoy?”
Malfoy’s smirk widened into a grin. “The blush in your cheeks is really quite fetching, Potter,” he said, reaching out with a hand to run a finger down Harry’s cheek. Harry pulled away and snarled. Malfoy’s grin widened even more, and he leaned back in order to get a better look at Harry. “Mmm, yes, the stockings were a good idea.” His eyes lingered on the stripe of exposed thigh where the skirt wasn’t long enough to reach the stockings.
Harry’s flush deepened. He pulled a little on the skirt, trying to get it to cover more, and failed miserably. Malfoy laughed a little.
Malfoy waved a hand back towards the cauldron and said, “Carry on. You were doing so well before.”
Harry threw a look over to where the cauldron sat on the table, half clean. Spotting his wand beside it, he snatched it up and turned back to Malfoy. It didn’t occur to him to reverse Malfoy’s spellwork. Instead, he cast his own spell.
Malfoy gave a very undignified shriek. His clothes instantly morphed as well, lightening and shrinking as they crawled up his body and growing lace along the hem. Harry smirked.
Malfoy stood there, face a lovely – no, Harry did not just think that – shade of pink, in his own outfit. White lace barely covered his thighs and shoulders, lying softly against pale skin. The middle was cinched with a black leather corset like Harry’s, but his chest was almost entirely exposed, the straps hanging off his shoulders. Harry could just barely see his nipples, pebbled from the cold air of the dungeons.
“You arse, Potter!” Malfoy shrieked, making Harry tear his eyes away from Malfoy’s chest. “What the fuck?”
Harry raised an eyebrow and leaned back on to the desk casually, allowing his stocking clad legs to stretch out. He saw Malfoy’s eyes flicker down, then back up to glare at Harry. Harry smirked at him. “It’s only what you did to me, Malfoy. Just getting even.”
“Yes, but yours –” Malfoy started, then broke off with a flush and looked away. Harry watched it fall from his face and spill over his chest.
“Mine?” he prompted.
Malfoy bit his lip. He mumbled something, still not meeting Harry’s eye, and Harry thought he heard the words, ‘looks good.’
“You know, Malfoy,” Harry said, and Malfoy’s eyes snapped back up to his. Harry found it odd to feel so… empowered by this outfit. Perhaps it was because he knew it had such an effect on Malfoy, and Harry was going to lord that over him for as long as he could. Only… “You don’t look half bad yourself.”
The pink in Malfoy’s cheeks deepened, and he gave a smirk that only wavered a little. “I know that, Potter,” he said. “When have I ever looked anything but?”
The sudden image of Malfoy sprawled out on the ground and a raging Hippogryff above him flitted through Harry’s mind. Somehow, Harry managed to replace the school robes Malfoy had been wearing at that time with what he was wearing now. Malfoy’s legs were spread, his skin still holding that flush and his head thrown back in ecstasy. Harry felt himself harden from the image.
A tug at the ties around his waist captured his attention. Malfoy stood before him, panting a little, and pulling Harry forwards by the ribbons that were weaved through his corset. Harry swallowed heavily. “Just this once,” Malfoy said, and tugged Harry towards him, mashing their lips together.
Harry moaned, his hands finding their way to either side of Malfoy’s waist and dragging him closer. Malfoy gasped against his lips, the rush of cold air contrasting with Malfoy’s hot mouth, and Harry wanted more. His hands slid down Malfoy’s waist, over the lace that collected around his hips and around the back to Malfoy’s arse, pulling him closer and grinding them together. It was no surprise that Malfoy was just as hard as Harry was. Hell, Malfoy had probably been hard ever since he had transformed Harry’s robe.
Malfoy tangled his hand in Harry’s hair, tugging a little at the strands in order to pull his head back. Harry sucked in a breath, allowing Malfoy to do as he wished. Malfoy slid his mouth down over Harry’s jaw, then down his throat until he reach the ribbon there and pulled at it lightly with his teeth. “Merlin, Potter,” he rasped, rubbing his groin against Harry’s, and Harry tightened his hold on Malfoy’s arse. Malfoy growled against the skin of his neck.
Growing impatient, Harry shoved a thigh between Malfoy’s, giving him something more to rub against and pulled Malfoy’s mouth away from his throat, pulled him up until Harry could see the dazed expression. Malfoy’s lips were a little red and puffed, and Harry’s mouth watered at the sight. He brought their mouths back together, nipping at Malfoy’s plump lips and sucking the bottom one into his mouth. He felt Malfoy’s growl from where they were pressed against each other, and his cock throbbed in whatever knickers Malfoy had given him.
Harry opened his mouth in a wet slide against Malfoy’s and entwined their tongues. The kiss was loud and wet, but not unpleasant in the least. It was intoxicating, and Harry never wanted it to end, growing dizzy and faint and he was damn well enjoying it. Malfoy’s hands rubbed up and down his back, bunching the skirt up so that he could settle his hands on the flesh of Harry’s arse and squeezing it tightly. Harry’s hips bucked upwards, his cock rubbing against something smooth and satiny. He wasn’t sure if it was his outfit or Malfoy’s, but whatever it was, it was bliss.
The bang of the door against the wall interrupted them. They tore their mouths away from each other’s with a gasp and looked over at the door with identical panicked expressions.
Severus stood framed in the doorway, frozen in shock at seeing Malfoy and Potter going at it in his classroom, while they were supposed to be serving detention. And wearing… fucking fuck, the most sinful of attires; lace and frills and short skirts and trailing ribbons. His mouth ran dry.
“What, pray tell, are you to doing?” he asked dangerously, and told himself he did not rasp. He closed the door tightly behind him as he entered the room, twitching his wand from where it resided in his sleeve and erecting an Imperturbable charm. There was no way he was chancing anyone coming in and ruining this.
“Er…” Potter said, his face a lovely shade of red, a match to that of Draco’s.
“Potter,” Severus drawled in a dangerous voice. “What did you do?”
Potter looked outraged. He shoved Draco away from him and straightened his skirt – his skirt – as much as he could. It was severely tented, his arousal evident and raising the material. “What did I do?” He shot a filthy look at Draco, who smirked and let his eyes linger on the bulge Potter was sporting. Severus noticed that Draco was sporting the same kind of problem.
Severus swallowed in an attempt to rid himself of that horrible dryness that kept creeping up on him. He rearranged his robes.
“As these things go, Potter, it is usually you who starts them.”
“I, sir, was cleaning out the cauldron–”
“Like a good little maid,” Draco said.
Potter shot him a glare. “ – Unlike, Malfoy here, who decided to – to do this” – he waved a hand over himself – “and prevented me from finishing.”
“Oh, he prevented you from finishing?” Severus said, his voice regaining a dark and promising edge to it. Potter flushed when he realised what he had said. “Now, that wasn’t very nice of you, was it, Draco?”
“I suppose not, Professor,” Draco simpered.
Severus strolled forwards, his robes whispering against the stone floor and swirling about him. “I think that the detention I originally assigned is not enough for you two,” he said, capturing their attention. “I suppose I’ll just have to find a new punishment for you, won’t I?”
There was a gleam in Draco’s eye that Severus was well accustomed too. Potter still had that mouth-watering flush, and Severus took the time to observe the two of them, standing together and clad in Muggle maid outfits. He reached out and gently took hold of the loose end of the ribbon around Potter’s throat and rubbed the material between forefinger and thumb. The middle of the material was, he felt, a little damp – probably from where Draco had had his mouth, sucking at Potter’s neck. He watched as Potter swallowed, then transferred his attention to Draco.
The lace that barely covered Draco hung off his form enticingly, nearly leaving him bare from mid-waist up. It was a little rumpled from where Potter had run his hands over it, falling off his shoulders and highlighting those hardened nipples. Merlin, these two….
Severus released his hold on the ribbon, and watched it flutter through the air to land at the base of Potter’s throat. He turned and waved his wand at his desk, clearing it of the papers and phials of potions from that days’ class until it was clean and free of clutter.
“Draco,” he said, “on the desk. Lie on your back.”
Draco hastened to follow his orders, jumping up onto the surface and making the lace that swirled around his legs inch up, exposing more of that creamy thigh.
Once Draco was nice and settled, spread out on the desk in anticipation, Severus turned to Potter. “You as well, Potter. On the desk, hands and knees.”
Harry strode towards the desk on legs that felt like they were made of jelly, glancing once over his shoulder and back at his professor. Snape nodded encouragingly, following after him. If Harry didn’t know better, he would say that Snape was ogling his arse.
Harry gingerly placed one knee on the desk, but hesitated at Snape’s voice. “Wait, Mr Potter. Spread your legs, Mr Malfoy,” he instructed. Malfoy allowed his legs to spill open and expose himself to Harry’s gaze. “Is he wearing knickers, Mr Potter?” Snape purred, leaning down over Harry to get a look in as well. He reached out a long finger and lifted a corner of the lace skirt, revealing a scrap of white that barely covered Malfoy’s erection. Malfoy moaned and his hips rose off the desk. “Ah, yes,” Snape murmured. “White lace, just like the rest of it. Take them off.”
Harry ran his hands along Malfoy’s thighs, then slid them up under the lace skirt at his waist until he touched the knickers. Slowly, ever so slowly, he grasped the edge and pulled. Malfoy raised his hips, and Harry slid them down his legs, caressing the skin as he did so. He pulled the knickers off of one foot, but left the material to dangle from Malfoy’s other ankle.
“Very nice, Potter,” Snape purred, from where he was pressed up against Harry’s back. Harry shivered from feeling his professor behind him, the deep rumble of his voice and the feeling of his fingers as they skated up Harry’s thighs, teasing that small bit of exposed skin, and then up under the skirt. Snape waved his wand, and the desk lowered itself. “Now up on the desk, and do bend your knees, Mr Malfoy, good.”
Malfoy panted and planted his feet on the desk, spreading his legs as much as he was able to. His cock lay against the lace on his stomach, and Harry couldn’t prevent himself from reaching out and running a finger along it. Malfoy groaned and wrapped his arms around his knees, clutching at them, spreading them and bringing them as close as he could to his chest. His eyes were closed and his breathing shallow.
Harry knelt between Malfoy’s spread legs, placing his hands on either side of Malfoy’s shoulders. Snape’s hands came up and ran over his back, caressing the material until he came to the ruffles of his skirt. He bunched the material and lifted it, then smoothed his hand over Harry’s arse, tugged a little at his knickers and trailed his fingertips down the backs of Harry’s thighs. Harry shook, trembling with pleasure at the light touches as Snape lightly touched the sensitive skin of his leg, just above the line of his stocking. A small moan escaped, and he heard Snape chuckle from behind him.
A resounding crack echoed through the Potions classroom, and Harry gasped as heat flared in his left buttock. Snape rubbed his hand over it, then said, “Count them.”
Harry gulped, then said, “One, sir.”
Snape landed another on the right side, then rubbed his hand over it until Harry said, “Two, sir.”
A small whine from below him captured his attention, and Harry looked down to see Malfoy, red faced and panting and straining upwards. He had wrapped a hand around his cock and was jerking himself off, squeezing his hand around the shaft.
Snape reached between them and tapped Malfoy’s hand. “No touching, Mr Malfoy,” he said, and Malfoy whined again. “And no coming, either.”
He made Harry count another three blows, none of them particularly vicious, then slid his knickers down until they were twisted around his thighs. “Your hand, Mr Potter,” Snape said, and held out his own. Harry shifted his weight onto his other hand and held his right out. Snape grasped it and Conjured a gel that coated Harry’s fingers. “Stretch Mr Malfoy, if you please.”
Malfoy’s hips pumped, trying to gain some sort of friction for his cock. His hands held a white knuckled grip on his legs, and he tried to spread himself further open. Harry brought his hand down to Malfoy’s arse and traced a finger around his hole. “Don’t you dare tease,” Malfoy snarled at him. Harry rolled his eyes and gently pressed it in.
Malfoy gasped and clenched down around it, squeezing his eyes shut. Harry slowly began to move it in and out, pressing more of his finger in at each pass.
The hands on his own arse distracted him, spreading his cheeks apart and pressing a slicked finger against his hole. Harry pressed back into the touch, and whined when it was retracted. He pushed the last bit of his finger into Malfoy and curled it, making Malfoy’s eyes shoot open and his back to arch off the desk.
The finger – Snape’s – pressed at his hole again, sliding in easily and moving back and forth torturously slow. Harry moaned and mimicked the actions on Malfoy, twisting his finger every now and then and feeling the action replicated in his own arse.
“Another.” Snape’s voice tickled his ear, making him shiver and his skin tingle.
Gently, Harry began to press in another finger along the first, feeling his own arse being slowly filled. “Fuck,” he whispered, lowering his head until it rested against Malfoy’s neck.
Malfoy twisted his head and lipped at Harry’s earlobe, lifted his hips and pleaded, “More.” Harry pushed his fingers further in, clenching down around the ones in his own arse.
“That’s it, Potter,” Snape murmured, lowering his head until he was sucking on the back of Harry’s neck, then kissed along his shoulder. “Keep going.”
Malfoy whined and twisted under him, making Harry push back into the hand at his arse. “Fuck, I’m ready, just fuck me already!”
Malfoy yelped as Harry suddenly withdrew his fingers. With a wave of Snape’s wand, Harry’s hand was recoated with the lubricant. Harry rubbed it over his cock, moaning into Malfoy’s neck and placing a gentle bite there.
Harry positioned himself and began to push through the tight ring of muscle, feeling it clench down around him. Malfoy wrapped his legs around the back of Harry’s thighs and wound his arms around Harry’s neck, trying to draw him in further. Harry slammed forwards and Malfoy cried out in ecstasy.
Snape’s hand at his back prevented Harry from drawing out, but then – oh, then – Snape was easing his own cock into Harry, pistoning in and out with small little motions. Harry pushed his hips back, trying to get more of it inside, but Snape never stopped his careful entrance.
By the time Snape was fully seated inside Harry, both Harry and Draco were about to go mad. “If someone does not move now…” Draco threatened, and felt Potter chuckle against him. He eased up onto his elbows and looked down at Draco, his eyes bright and his face flushed. He swivelled his hips and smirked when Draco’s eyes widened.
“Not now, you two,” Severus said. He pulled back, taking Potter with him, then pushed them both forwards, Potter easing into Draco as Severus eased into Potter. Draco gasped, his head landing back on the desk with a resounding thunk.
“Fuck,” he moaned. He clenched down around Potter, and raked his hands down Potter’s back. Potter growled and lowered his head to nip along Draco’s collarbone again as he rocked forwards.
Eventually, they found their own rhythm, rocking in and out of each other steadily. Merlin, it was bliss, Draco thought, having these two people here and seemingly fucking him at the same time.
“Please, sir,” he begged, looking past Potter’s mass of hair and up into his professor’s fathomless eyes. “I need – I need to,” he panted, his body tensing and his hand clutched around a fistful of Potter’s maid uniform.
Severus nodded, all he could do to give his permission for Draco to bring himself to climax. Draco’s hand flew to his cock, worming its way beneath Potter’s body, and proceeded to stroke himself roughly. Severus tightened his grip on Harry’s hips, then released one hand in favour of playing with the ties to the corset around his waist. Beneath him, Harry gasped as he pulled at the strings, tightening the material as he surged forwards, effectively leaving him breathless.
“Fuck, Professor!” Harry yelled, his hips undulating, rocking back and forth between Severus and Draco. He tightened around Severus’ cock and buried himself as far as he could into Draco, his breaths stuttering as he orgasmed. Draco cried out as well, following Harry into the abyss and spurting over his outfit, spots of white on white and black and all over his chest.
Severus leaned forwards, his hips pumping erratically in and out of Harry’s hole as it clenched until he came as well. He barely caught himself from collapsing down onto Harry and Draco, his hands slapping against the wood of his desk in order to keep him up.
Harry sucked in a deep breath, then skated his mouth over Draco’s throat, sucking at the sweaty skin and swiping his tongue out over it.
“Fucking hell,” Draco moaned, “we should do that more often.”
“Indeed, Draco,” Severus agreed, and pulled out of Harry wetly.
Harry brought his hands together and clutched at Draco. “Don’t wanna move,” he murmured.
“Potter, you’re crushing me,” Draco said, but he didn’t push Harry off of him. With a sigh, Harry eased up and off of Draco, his softened cock sliding free of Draco’s hole. Draco sat up as well and shuffled on the desk, bringing his legs together.
“Well, as entertaining as this has been,” Severus murmured, “we do have classes tomorrow morning.”
Harry looked back at Severus to see that he was beginning to pull on his teaching robes. Harry bent over and picked up his wand from where it had fallen onto the floor. With a few deft flicks, he cleaned both himself and Draco and restored them to their proper clothes.
“Thanks,” Draco said, hopping off of the desk and placing a small kiss on the corner of Harry’s mouth.
“You’re mad if you think you’re going to get away with just that,” Harry said and grabbed Draco back to him. He plunged his tongue into Draco’s mouth and kissed his breath away. Draco’s hands rose and clasped onto Harry’s shoulders as he returned the kiss.
“Class tomorrow,” Severus reminded them. Draco broke away from Harry and grinned up at Severus. He stalked towards him and drew him down for his own kiss.
“Thanks for that,” he said against Severus’ lips.
“Hmm,” Severus said. “I do hope that you two decide to pull those outfits out again at some point.” His eyes surveyed the classroom and their dishevelled states. “Actually, you can do that now.”
Harry groaned. “But I have the third year Ravenclaws first thing in the morning!”
Severus’ eyes glittered. “Then maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to play this game.”
He swept towards the front of the room, but paused just before leaving. “I suggest that you two do actual work this time,” he said, and shot a last smirk over his shoulder at them.
Harry rolled his eyes. “He tends to do that, doesn’t he?” he asked.
Draco shrugged his shoulders. “Habit, I suppose, especially in the classroom.” He turned and followed Severus’ path down to the front of the classroom and through the door.
“Wait, where are you going?” Harry asked, slightly panicked to be left alone with a dirty Potions’ room.
Draco looked over his shoulder and gave a dazzling smile. “You have more experience with cleaning the Potions’ classroom,” he stated, and left Harry with a wink.
Harry looked morosely at the desk and the pile of things that needed to be replaced, as well as the cauldron that still needed scrubbing. Sighing, he waved his wand and threw a Scourgify at it. Next time, he thought, they’re the ones cleaning up.
fin
Title: Come and Play in the Dungeons
Word count: 4378
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Draco/Harry/Severus
Contains: Cross-dressing, a small bit of spanking and a hint of roleplay and breathplay
Summary: In detention with Malfoy, Harry is the only one doing the work assigned. Then Draco has the brilliant idea to transform Harry’s robe into something more suitable.
A/N: I’ve gotten sucked into the world of Drapery/Snarco again, and guh. I didn’t think I’d ever write any, until a few days ago. Of course, there’s a Chatzy for that. Enter
misbehavingmom, thepretender501 and talekayler, the dilemma of cleaning and housework. Solution is: fifi!Draco and fifi!Harry cleaning for Snape. ♥ ♥ ♥All mistakes are mine, as this is unbetaed! I think I looked at it too long.
--
Harry grumbled as he bent over the lip of the cauldron, straining to reach the bottom to scrub off the caked on muck there.
‘This really isn’t fair,’ he thought, ‘why am I the only one cleaning?’ He shot a glare over to where Malfoy was lounging back in his chair, feet up on the desk and picking absently at imaginary lint on his robe.
“Plan on doing any work at all, Malfoy?” Harry asked.
Malfoy quirked an eyebrow at him. “Why should I?”
Harry straightened from his hunched position. “Oh, I dunno, maybe because you’re supposed to be doing this detention, too? Maybe because it’s your fault our potion was ruined?”
The front legs of the chair connected with the stone floor with a loud thump. “My fault? Need I remind you, Potter, that it was you who put in the armadillo bile too quickly? Without turning down the heat and before the snake skin was shredded over it?”
“Yeah, well you never –” never stopped me, Harry had been about to say, but stopped quickly. At the look of triumph in Malfoy’s eyes, though, it appeared to be a lost cause.
“Exactly, Potter. Though maybe, if you had been listening before, you would have remembered that I had mentioned something previously? Or that Snape had gone through the instructions extensively before he assigned partners?” He sneered. “Waste of a potion.”
Harry threw his rag down. “It’s still your fault,” he persisted. “Why else would Snape give you a detention?”
Malfoy’s look soured. “Shouldn’t you be cleaning Potter?” he asked snidely. He waved a hand over to where Harry’s rag lay on the floor in a dirty, wet lump.
Harry refrained from growling and snatched the rag up. “Fine,” he said, “but don’t come crying to me when Snape reprimands you for not doing your share of work.” Of course, Harry didn’t think that would ever happen, but it felt good to say it anyways. Malfoy said nothing and went back to smoothing his robes out.
Ten minutes later, Malfoy’s cold drawl broke the silence. “You know Potter, I don’t think you’re dressed appropriately for this.”
“How the hell am I supposed to be dressed for mucking out a cauldron, Malfoy?” Harry spun around and glared at him.
Malfoy’s smirk was positively predatory. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said, running his eyes up and down Harry’s figure. Harry felt heat rise in his cheeks, and he beat it down. It was a losing battle, though, and Malfoy knew it as well.
Malfoy stood from his seat and strolled towards Harry. Harry’s hand clenched around the sodden rag in his hand, and he stared back defiantly. Malfoy circled him slowly, humming as he did so and making little noises in the back of his throat. Harry dropped the rag in the cauldron, heard it land with a splat, and crossed his arms over his chest defensively. He turned as Malfoy walked around him, never taking his eyes from Malfoy’s face.
Malfoy came to a halt after he had completed his circle and rubbed his chin with a palm. There was a look in his eye that Harry did not like, not one little bit. He glowered.
“I think,” Malfoy drawled slowly, “that this will do the trick.” And then he waved his wand in a complicated manner and mumbled something under his breath that Harry couldn’t quite catch.
Harry’s sucked in a breath when he felt his clothes beginning to change. They shortened rapidly, and far too much, growing layers of ruffles and tightening around his hips and chest. He could feel the cold of the dungeon air against his legs and suppressed a shiver.
He didn’t dare believe it when he saw what Malfoy had done. A maids’ uniform, like that of the ones in those old soap operas aunt Petunia liked to watch, the ones that were all black and white and grainy. Only this one was much more… indecent. There was a short black skirt that stopped well above the knee, complete with the white apron, frills, and black stockings. A black leather corset covered his middle, tightly tied closed, and stopping just below his nipples. The straps were thin little things that barely stayed on his shoulders, and in all honesty, didn’t really seem to be doing much. Bloody fuck, there was even a ribbon around his throat. His hand scrabbled at it in a vain attempt to loosen it, but it didn’t budge at all.
Harry looked up at Malfoy furiously. “Fishnet stockings? Really, Malfoy?”
Malfoy’s smirk widened into a grin. “The blush in your cheeks is really quite fetching, Potter,” he said, reaching out with a hand to run a finger down Harry’s cheek. Harry pulled away and snarled. Malfoy’s grin widened even more, and he leaned back in order to get a better look at Harry. “Mmm, yes, the stockings were a good idea.” His eyes lingered on the stripe of exposed thigh where the skirt wasn’t long enough to reach the stockings.
Harry’s flush deepened. He pulled a little on the skirt, trying to get it to cover more, and failed miserably. Malfoy laughed a little.
Malfoy waved a hand back towards the cauldron and said, “Carry on. You were doing so well before.”
Harry threw a look over to where the cauldron sat on the table, half clean. Spotting his wand beside it, he snatched it up and turned back to Malfoy. It didn’t occur to him to reverse Malfoy’s spellwork. Instead, he cast his own spell.
Malfoy gave a very undignified shriek. His clothes instantly morphed as well, lightening and shrinking as they crawled up his body and growing lace along the hem. Harry smirked.
Malfoy stood there, face a lovely – no, Harry did not just think that – shade of pink, in his own outfit. White lace barely covered his thighs and shoulders, lying softly against pale skin. The middle was cinched with a black leather corset like Harry’s, but his chest was almost entirely exposed, the straps hanging off his shoulders. Harry could just barely see his nipples, pebbled from the cold air of the dungeons.
“You arse, Potter!” Malfoy shrieked, making Harry tear his eyes away from Malfoy’s chest. “What the fuck?”
Harry raised an eyebrow and leaned back on to the desk casually, allowing his stocking clad legs to stretch out. He saw Malfoy’s eyes flicker down, then back up to glare at Harry. Harry smirked at him. “It’s only what you did to me, Malfoy. Just getting even.”
“Yes, but yours –” Malfoy started, then broke off with a flush and looked away. Harry watched it fall from his face and spill over his chest.
“Mine?” he prompted.
Malfoy bit his lip. He mumbled something, still not meeting Harry’s eye, and Harry thought he heard the words, ‘looks good.’
“You know, Malfoy,” Harry said, and Malfoy’s eyes snapped back up to his. Harry found it odd to feel so… empowered by this outfit. Perhaps it was because he knew it had such an effect on Malfoy, and Harry was going to lord that over him for as long as he could. Only… “You don’t look half bad yourself.”
The pink in Malfoy’s cheeks deepened, and he gave a smirk that only wavered a little. “I know that, Potter,” he said. “When have I ever looked anything but?”
The sudden image of Malfoy sprawled out on the ground and a raging Hippogryff above him flitted through Harry’s mind. Somehow, Harry managed to replace the school robes Malfoy had been wearing at that time with what he was wearing now. Malfoy’s legs were spread, his skin still holding that flush and his head thrown back in ecstasy. Harry felt himself harden from the image.
A tug at the ties around his waist captured his attention. Malfoy stood before him, panting a little, and pulling Harry forwards by the ribbons that were weaved through his corset. Harry swallowed heavily. “Just this once,” Malfoy said, and tugged Harry towards him, mashing their lips together.
Harry moaned, his hands finding their way to either side of Malfoy’s waist and dragging him closer. Malfoy gasped against his lips, the rush of cold air contrasting with Malfoy’s hot mouth, and Harry wanted more. His hands slid down Malfoy’s waist, over the lace that collected around his hips and around the back to Malfoy’s arse, pulling him closer and grinding them together. It was no surprise that Malfoy was just as hard as Harry was. Hell, Malfoy had probably been hard ever since he had transformed Harry’s robe.
Malfoy tangled his hand in Harry’s hair, tugging a little at the strands in order to pull his head back. Harry sucked in a breath, allowing Malfoy to do as he wished. Malfoy slid his mouth down over Harry’s jaw, then down his throat until he reach the ribbon there and pulled at it lightly with his teeth. “Merlin, Potter,” he rasped, rubbing his groin against Harry’s, and Harry tightened his hold on Malfoy’s arse. Malfoy growled against the skin of his neck.
Growing impatient, Harry shoved a thigh between Malfoy’s, giving him something more to rub against and pulled Malfoy’s mouth away from his throat, pulled him up until Harry could see the dazed expression. Malfoy’s lips were a little red and puffed, and Harry’s mouth watered at the sight. He brought their mouths back together, nipping at Malfoy’s plump lips and sucking the bottom one into his mouth. He felt Malfoy’s growl from where they were pressed against each other, and his cock throbbed in whatever knickers Malfoy had given him.
Harry opened his mouth in a wet slide against Malfoy’s and entwined their tongues. The kiss was loud and wet, but not unpleasant in the least. It was intoxicating, and Harry never wanted it to end, growing dizzy and faint and he was damn well enjoying it. Malfoy’s hands rubbed up and down his back, bunching the skirt up so that he could settle his hands on the flesh of Harry’s arse and squeezing it tightly. Harry’s hips bucked upwards, his cock rubbing against something smooth and satiny. He wasn’t sure if it was his outfit or Malfoy’s, but whatever it was, it was bliss.
The bang of the door against the wall interrupted them. They tore their mouths away from each other’s with a gasp and looked over at the door with identical panicked expressions.
Severus stood framed in the doorway, frozen in shock at seeing Malfoy and Potter going at it in his classroom, while they were supposed to be serving detention. And wearing… fucking fuck, the most sinful of attires; lace and frills and short skirts and trailing ribbons. His mouth ran dry.
“What, pray tell, are you to doing?” he asked dangerously, and told himself he did not rasp. He closed the door tightly behind him as he entered the room, twitching his wand from where it resided in his sleeve and erecting an Imperturbable charm. There was no way he was chancing anyone coming in and ruining this.
“Er…” Potter said, his face a lovely shade of red, a match to that of Draco’s.
“Potter,” Severus drawled in a dangerous voice. “What did you do?”
Potter looked outraged. He shoved Draco away from him and straightened his skirt – his skirt – as much as he could. It was severely tented, his arousal evident and raising the material. “What did I do?” He shot a filthy look at Draco, who smirked and let his eyes linger on the bulge Potter was sporting. Severus noticed that Draco was sporting the same kind of problem.
Severus swallowed in an attempt to rid himself of that horrible dryness that kept creeping up on him. He rearranged his robes.
“As these things go, Potter, it is usually you who starts them.”
“I, sir, was cleaning out the cauldron–”
“Like a good little maid,” Draco said.
Potter shot him a glare. “ – Unlike, Malfoy here, who decided to – to do this” – he waved a hand over himself – “and prevented me from finishing.”
“Oh, he prevented you from finishing?” Severus said, his voice regaining a dark and promising edge to it. Potter flushed when he realised what he had said. “Now, that wasn’t very nice of you, was it, Draco?”
“I suppose not, Professor,” Draco simpered.
Severus strolled forwards, his robes whispering against the stone floor and swirling about him. “I think that the detention I originally assigned is not enough for you two,” he said, capturing their attention. “I suppose I’ll just have to find a new punishment for you, won’t I?”
There was a gleam in Draco’s eye that Severus was well accustomed too. Potter still had that mouth-watering flush, and Severus took the time to observe the two of them, standing together and clad in Muggle maid outfits. He reached out and gently took hold of the loose end of the ribbon around Potter’s throat and rubbed the material between forefinger and thumb. The middle of the material was, he felt, a little damp – probably from where Draco had had his mouth, sucking at Potter’s neck. He watched as Potter swallowed, then transferred his attention to Draco.
The lace that barely covered Draco hung off his form enticingly, nearly leaving him bare from mid-waist up. It was a little rumpled from where Potter had run his hands over it, falling off his shoulders and highlighting those hardened nipples. Merlin, these two….
Severus released his hold on the ribbon, and watched it flutter through the air to land at the base of Potter’s throat. He turned and waved his wand at his desk, clearing it of the papers and phials of potions from that days’ class until it was clean and free of clutter.
“Draco,” he said, “on the desk. Lie on your back.”
Draco hastened to follow his orders, jumping up onto the surface and making the lace that swirled around his legs inch up, exposing more of that creamy thigh.
Once Draco was nice and settled, spread out on the desk in anticipation, Severus turned to Potter. “You as well, Potter. On the desk, hands and knees.”
Harry strode towards the desk on legs that felt like they were made of jelly, glancing once over his shoulder and back at his professor. Snape nodded encouragingly, following after him. If Harry didn’t know better, he would say that Snape was ogling his arse.
Harry gingerly placed one knee on the desk, but hesitated at Snape’s voice. “Wait, Mr Potter. Spread your legs, Mr Malfoy,” he instructed. Malfoy allowed his legs to spill open and expose himself to Harry’s gaze. “Is he wearing knickers, Mr Potter?” Snape purred, leaning down over Harry to get a look in as well. He reached out a long finger and lifted a corner of the lace skirt, revealing a scrap of white that barely covered Malfoy’s erection. Malfoy moaned and his hips rose off the desk. “Ah, yes,” Snape murmured. “White lace, just like the rest of it. Take them off.”
Harry ran his hands along Malfoy’s thighs, then slid them up under the lace skirt at his waist until he touched the knickers. Slowly, ever so slowly, he grasped the edge and pulled. Malfoy raised his hips, and Harry slid them down his legs, caressing the skin as he did so. He pulled the knickers off of one foot, but left the material to dangle from Malfoy’s other ankle.
“Very nice, Potter,” Snape purred, from where he was pressed up against Harry’s back. Harry shivered from feeling his professor behind him, the deep rumble of his voice and the feeling of his fingers as they skated up Harry’s thighs, teasing that small bit of exposed skin, and then up under the skirt. Snape waved his wand, and the desk lowered itself. “Now up on the desk, and do bend your knees, Mr Malfoy, good.”
Malfoy panted and planted his feet on the desk, spreading his legs as much as he was able to. His cock lay against the lace on his stomach, and Harry couldn’t prevent himself from reaching out and running a finger along it. Malfoy groaned and wrapped his arms around his knees, clutching at them, spreading them and bringing them as close as he could to his chest. His eyes were closed and his breathing shallow.
Harry knelt between Malfoy’s spread legs, placing his hands on either side of Malfoy’s shoulders. Snape’s hands came up and ran over his back, caressing the material until he came to the ruffles of his skirt. He bunched the material and lifted it, then smoothed his hand over Harry’s arse, tugged a little at his knickers and trailed his fingertips down the backs of Harry’s thighs. Harry shook, trembling with pleasure at the light touches as Snape lightly touched the sensitive skin of his leg, just above the line of his stocking. A small moan escaped, and he heard Snape chuckle from behind him.
A resounding crack echoed through the Potions classroom, and Harry gasped as heat flared in his left buttock. Snape rubbed his hand over it, then said, “Count them.”
Harry gulped, then said, “One, sir.”
Snape landed another on the right side, then rubbed his hand over it until Harry said, “Two, sir.”
A small whine from below him captured his attention, and Harry looked down to see Malfoy, red faced and panting and straining upwards. He had wrapped a hand around his cock and was jerking himself off, squeezing his hand around the shaft.
Snape reached between them and tapped Malfoy’s hand. “No touching, Mr Malfoy,” he said, and Malfoy whined again. “And no coming, either.”
He made Harry count another three blows, none of them particularly vicious, then slid his knickers down until they were twisted around his thighs. “Your hand, Mr Potter,” Snape said, and held out his own. Harry shifted his weight onto his other hand and held his right out. Snape grasped it and Conjured a gel that coated Harry’s fingers. “Stretch Mr Malfoy, if you please.”
Malfoy’s hips pumped, trying to gain some sort of friction for his cock. His hands held a white knuckled grip on his legs, and he tried to spread himself further open. Harry brought his hand down to Malfoy’s arse and traced a finger around his hole. “Don’t you dare tease,” Malfoy snarled at him. Harry rolled his eyes and gently pressed it in.
Malfoy gasped and clenched down around it, squeezing his eyes shut. Harry slowly began to move it in and out, pressing more of his finger in at each pass.
The hands on his own arse distracted him, spreading his cheeks apart and pressing a slicked finger against his hole. Harry pressed back into the touch, and whined when it was retracted. He pushed the last bit of his finger into Malfoy and curled it, making Malfoy’s eyes shoot open and his back to arch off the desk.
The finger – Snape’s – pressed at his hole again, sliding in easily and moving back and forth torturously slow. Harry moaned and mimicked the actions on Malfoy, twisting his finger every now and then and feeling the action replicated in his own arse.
“Another.” Snape’s voice tickled his ear, making him shiver and his skin tingle.
Gently, Harry began to press in another finger along the first, feeling his own arse being slowly filled. “Fuck,” he whispered, lowering his head until it rested against Malfoy’s neck.
Malfoy twisted his head and lipped at Harry’s earlobe, lifted his hips and pleaded, “More.” Harry pushed his fingers further in, clenching down around the ones in his own arse.
“That’s it, Potter,” Snape murmured, lowering his head until he was sucking on the back of Harry’s neck, then kissed along his shoulder. “Keep going.”
Malfoy whined and twisted under him, making Harry push back into the hand at his arse. “Fuck, I’m ready, just fuck me already!”
Malfoy yelped as Harry suddenly withdrew his fingers. With a wave of Snape’s wand, Harry’s hand was recoated with the lubricant. Harry rubbed it over his cock, moaning into Malfoy’s neck and placing a gentle bite there.
Harry positioned himself and began to push through the tight ring of muscle, feeling it clench down around him. Malfoy wrapped his legs around the back of Harry’s thighs and wound his arms around Harry’s neck, trying to draw him in further. Harry slammed forwards and Malfoy cried out in ecstasy.
Snape’s hand at his back prevented Harry from drawing out, but then – oh, then – Snape was easing his own cock into Harry, pistoning in and out with small little motions. Harry pushed his hips back, trying to get more of it inside, but Snape never stopped his careful entrance.
By the time Snape was fully seated inside Harry, both Harry and Draco were about to go mad. “If someone does not move now…” Draco threatened, and felt Potter chuckle against him. He eased up onto his elbows and looked down at Draco, his eyes bright and his face flushed. He swivelled his hips and smirked when Draco’s eyes widened.
“Not now, you two,” Severus said. He pulled back, taking Potter with him, then pushed them both forwards, Potter easing into Draco as Severus eased into Potter. Draco gasped, his head landing back on the desk with a resounding thunk.
“Fuck,” he moaned. He clenched down around Potter, and raked his hands down Potter’s back. Potter growled and lowered his head to nip along Draco’s collarbone again as he rocked forwards.
Eventually, they found their own rhythm, rocking in and out of each other steadily. Merlin, it was bliss, Draco thought, having these two people here and seemingly fucking him at the same time.
“Please, sir,” he begged, looking past Potter’s mass of hair and up into his professor’s fathomless eyes. “I need – I need to,” he panted, his body tensing and his hand clutched around a fistful of Potter’s maid uniform.
Severus nodded, all he could do to give his permission for Draco to bring himself to climax. Draco’s hand flew to his cock, worming its way beneath Potter’s body, and proceeded to stroke himself roughly. Severus tightened his grip on Harry’s hips, then released one hand in favour of playing with the ties to the corset around his waist. Beneath him, Harry gasped as he pulled at the strings, tightening the material as he surged forwards, effectively leaving him breathless.
“Fuck, Professor!” Harry yelled, his hips undulating, rocking back and forth between Severus and Draco. He tightened around Severus’ cock and buried himself as far as he could into Draco, his breaths stuttering as he orgasmed. Draco cried out as well, following Harry into the abyss and spurting over his outfit, spots of white on white and black and all over his chest.
Severus leaned forwards, his hips pumping erratically in and out of Harry’s hole as it clenched until he came as well. He barely caught himself from collapsing down onto Harry and Draco, his hands slapping against the wood of his desk in order to keep him up.
Harry sucked in a deep breath, then skated his mouth over Draco’s throat, sucking at the sweaty skin and swiping his tongue out over it.
“Fucking hell,” Draco moaned, “we should do that more often.”
“Indeed, Draco,” Severus agreed, and pulled out of Harry wetly.
Harry brought his hands together and clutched at Draco. “Don’t wanna move,” he murmured.
“Potter, you’re crushing me,” Draco said, but he didn’t push Harry off of him. With a sigh, Harry eased up and off of Draco, his softened cock sliding free of Draco’s hole. Draco sat up as well and shuffled on the desk, bringing his legs together.
“Well, as entertaining as this has been,” Severus murmured, “we do have classes tomorrow morning.”
Harry looked back at Severus to see that he was beginning to pull on his teaching robes. Harry bent over and picked up his wand from where it had fallen onto the floor. With a few deft flicks, he cleaned both himself and Draco and restored them to their proper clothes.
“Thanks,” Draco said, hopping off of the desk and placing a small kiss on the corner of Harry’s mouth.
“You’re mad if you think you’re going to get away with just that,” Harry said and grabbed Draco back to him. He plunged his tongue into Draco’s mouth and kissed his breath away. Draco’s hands rose and clasped onto Harry’s shoulders as he returned the kiss.
“Class tomorrow,” Severus reminded them. Draco broke away from Harry and grinned up at Severus. He stalked towards him and drew him down for his own kiss.
“Thanks for that,” he said against Severus’ lips.
“Hmm,” Severus said. “I do hope that you two decide to pull those outfits out again at some point.” His eyes surveyed the classroom and their dishevelled states. “Actually, you can do that now.”
Harry groaned. “But I have the third year Ravenclaws first thing in the morning!”
Severus’ eyes glittered. “Then maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to play this game.”
He swept towards the front of the room, but paused just before leaving. “I suggest that you two do actual work this time,” he said, and shot a last smirk over his shoulder at them.
Harry rolled his eyes. “He tends to do that, doesn’t he?” he asked.
Draco shrugged his shoulders. “Habit, I suppose, especially in the classroom.” He turned and followed Severus’ path down to the front of the classroom and through the door.
“Wait, where are you going?” Harry asked, slightly panicked to be left alone with a dirty Potions’ room.
Draco looked over his shoulder and gave a dazzling smile. “You have more experience with cleaning the Potions’ classroom,” he stated, and left Harry with a wink.
Harry looked morosely at the desk and the pile of things that needed to be replaced, as well as the cauldron that still needed scrubbing. Sighing, he waved his wand and threw a Scourgify at it. Next time, he thought, they’re the ones cleaning up.
fin
