Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/219456.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      James_Potter/Severus_Snape
  Character:
      Severus_Snape, James_Potter
  Additional Tags:
      Marauders-era, Coercion, non-con, Humiliation
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-07-05 Words: 1477
****** Haves and Have-Nots ******
by rexluscus
Summary
     Snape finds out once again that life is not fair.
Notes
     This is dub/non-con of the unsexy kind. Thanks to Schemingreader for
     significantly spicing up the plot.
Severus slipped into the broom shed and shut the door. No one could have seen
him come down to the pitch; they were all in Hogsmeade, every last rotting one
of them. This was his chance.
He trailed his fingers over polished handles racked like spears. He was looking
for one broom in particular that didn't spin or dump him the moment he climbed
on; the broom that liked him. He was going to learn to fly as well as that
Potter cunt if it killed him. He had Potter beat in every class, but as soon as
they got onto the pitch, Severus looked like a fool and Potter laughed himself
sick with the rest of his miserable House. It had to end.
The texture of the wood under his fingers suddenly changed. This was not a
school broom; its handle was beautiful polished mahogany and it was brand new,
practically sparkling in the low light. On the side of the handle were the
embossed words 'Nimbus 1000'—that was one of the finest brooms there was. What
was it doing here? He knelt to examine the bristles, straight and pristine, and
his eyes fell on a little bronze plate affixed to the handle's base. He craned
his neck sideways, already knowing what it would say, and sure enough, it read:
 'James Potter.'
His lip curled.
Then he got to thinking. The rest of the school wouldn't be back for
hours—Potter included. No one would know he'd borrowed Potter's broom for a
little turn around the pitch. Besides, Potter had it coming for leaving it
lying carelessly about.
It was lighter than the school brooms, and it rose in a dizzying spiral the
moment he got on. He struggled to stay astride. Then it zipped forward and he
barely kept his balance. Every little shift of his weight sent it spinning. It
was too fast and responsive, too hard to control, and he had no desire to die.
Cursing Potter, he made a clumsy landing and hurried back to the shed, praying
no one had seen his performance.
"That was awful," said a cold voice as soon as he opened the shed door.
"Absolutely, pathetically awful. A baby could've done better."
Severus's insides froze. Potter leaned against the wall, arms folded, sneering.
He didn't even have that look of dark glee that usually preceded his sport at
Severus's expense. He looked angry—and willing to do something about it.
Before Severus could break out of his horrified trance to reach for his wand,
Potter was pointing his and saying, "Petrificus totalus." Severus fell stiffly
against the wall like a discarded mannequin.
"I could tell them you stole it," said Potter, leaning his arm against the wall
Severus was propped on. "I've a tracking charm on it. One word and it'll tell
exactly who had it, and where, and when. For security, you know—I'm not stupid.
I bet they'd expel you for it."
Severus's mind was racing. He had no doubt whatsoever that Potter would do it,
and nobody was going to believe Severus had just meant to try it out as long as
it was Potter accusing him. Potter the darling, Quidditch-captain saint.
Dumbledore moved mountains for Potter. Severus was dead.
Potter leaned in close with a snarl. "What would you do to keep me from
telling? Just about anything, I bet." He laughed. "I'll have to think of
something good. Might not get another chance like this."
Severus prayed silently that Potter had a poor imagination.
"I've got it." Potter unpetrified him and he slumped to his knees, limbs floppy
from the spell. Before he could get up, Potter's hand clamped down on his head.
"Stay where you are," he commanded, then moved closer so that Severus's vision
was filled by Potter's crotch. "You're going to suck me off, Snivelly," he said
with relish.
Severus's stomach plummeted. He had a choice: suck Potter's filthy cock, or
face the wrath of his family and a life of pathetic obscurity doing jobs fit
for a Squib. It was really no choice at all. Hands shaking, he reached for the
buttons of Potter's trousers.
He'd never touched another boy's cock before. It was frightening—different from
his even though it was the same, with a different smell and feel from his own,
and he felt nauseous even looking at it. He decided not to look at it. Potter
wasn't hard, of course, so Severus did to it what he did when he was playing
with himself—he gave it a stroke from the base, pulling until it started to
fill. 
"Get on with it," Potter growled and smacked Severus's head.
Severus opened his mouth. Not wide; he didn't want to let it very far in. He
touched it lightly with his tongue just to prepare himself for the taste—rather
like one did with one's toe to test the water of a bath. It tasted salty and
mucousy—like regular skin except more. There was a little fluid coming out the
tip and he tried to avoid it, but couldn’t for long. He pulled back his tongue
as much as possible and popped the thing inside his mouth.
It felt round and smooth and a little better as long as he kept his tongue
away. But Potter never gave him a chance to adjust; he grabbed hold of the
sides of Severus's head and pushed the whole length in until Severus gagged and
coughed. "Oi!" Potter shouted, "watch the teeth!"
"Don't force it in then, you bastard," Severus coughed, leaning on his hands.
Potter didn't reply; was it possible he'd conceded? Either way, he waited until
Severus got back his breath before saying, "On with it."
Severus rose and put the cock back in his mouth. It had wilted slightly. He
tried to suck without scraping it with his teeth, but that was hard. He had to
wedge his tongue and lips between his teeth and Potter's cock to keep from
getting a smack on the head. Once he'd got the hang of that, he let Potter saw
in and out while he did his best to keep up a bit of suction. Back and forth,
back and forth; it all seemed rather dull, but Potter was enjoying it. He kept
letting out gusty sighs that ended in groans, and little noises of strain as he
tried to push deeper. Severus pulled his head back to keep Potter from choking
him, and mercifully, Potter let him.
He was slobbering all down his chin, and his lips were starting to feel
chapped. There was more fluid now and he was afraid Potter was going to come;
Severus wasn't ready for that, despite having got the basics of sucking. But he
could tell Potter was getting close. The groans were becoming little cries, as
though someone were hurting him, and suddenly his hands were grabbing Severus's
hair and forcing his head to stay still, which frightened him. Potter thrust
again and it was instantly hard to breathe. Then Potter thrust a final time and
cried out and Severus's mouth was flooded with something foul that clogged his
throat and got up his nose and poured down his chin and now he really couldn't
breathe. He pulled back hard and spat it up, coughing, and then he was vomiting
what he'd swallowed, and once that had stopped he continued coughing and
gagging until he could breathe again. His face was streaming with tears and his
nose had that awful burning feeling like when he went under too quickly in the
pool. 
"Well, then," Potter said, as though Severus hadn't nearly died on the ground
in front of him, "I guess we're even now." He picked up the broom where Severus
had dropped it, went out into the sunlight and got on.
"Are we, then?" Severus sat on his knees, soaked all down his front. He smelled
like Potter's spunk. He tasted Potter's spunk. 
Potter hovered on his stupid broom. "I reckon so."
"Good. That means I can do this." Severus pointed his wand. "Incendio!"
Potter cried out in horror as the broom's bristles burst into flames, but the
broom itself reacted to the assault by shooting off at top speed. From far
away, Severus could hear gradually fading shouts of"Aguamenti! Aguamenti!"
Severus laughed and laughed, until the big, hot bubble in his throat made him
stop.
It just wasn't fair. Potter had everything, and it still wasn't enough—he had
to go reaching into Severus's life, into his dignity, into his body, to take
what little was there, too. A hundred burnt-up brooms couldn't pay for that. He
would never, ever be "even" with Potter or any of the others who eased Potter's
way. All he could do was find a way to hurt them that would stick.
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