Title: Undercover

Author: Terri

Rating: NC17

Pairing:HP/SS

Disclaimer: Not mine – just borrowing them.

Feedback: lilyseyes@msn.com

Beta: irisgirl12000

Archive: Part of the From Dusk till Dawn Severus Snape/Harry Potter Fuh-Q-Fest at http://www.kardasi.com/HPSS/storyindex.htm

Challenge: Wave X – Not Here, Not Now! No Magic?

The smoky air in the exclusive nightclub was as stifling as the heat outside, Harry decided as he nudged his empty drink glass toward the edge of the highly polished mahogany bar. His eyes had settled on an elegantly dressed man, long hair tied back at the nape of his neck, sitting alone in at a small table in the corner. In his black conservative suit of the finest Italian silk, with a gray silk shirt underneath, the dark-haired gentleman seemed out of place in the hip young crowd that inhabited the club at this hour of the night. Sitting in the shadows, slowly sipping on a glass of scotch, the man's eyes swept the room, whether watching for someone or looking them over, Harry could not tell.

His own glass of twelve year old Glenlivet over ice appeared before him, and he nodded his thanks to the blond bartender, who smiled and gave him a saucy wink. Harry smirked, knowing that even if he were not working undercover on a case, the man would not be going home with him. The raven-haired police detective had never been drawn to flashy pretty boys, favoring instead the tall, dark, brooding type. Like the bloke at the corner table, the little voice in his head told him with a twitch of interest. Ruthlessly shoving those thoughts to the back of his mind, Harry adjusted the tight black leather pants he wore as part of his rent-boy outfit. An emerald green silk shirt, unbuttoned to mid-chest, matched his eyes exactly and completed his outfit.

Taking tiny sips, his eyes scanned the crowd again, searching for any sign of his quarry. In that throng of squirming bodies was a ruthless killer who was targeting the gay community, killing with a perverse viciousness that sickened even veteran cops. His victims had been repeatedly violated, their genitals mutilated and the bodies eviscerated before being dumped in rubbish piles like discarded trash. All of them had been very handsome young men, some of them still in their teens.

Movement near the loo caught his eye, and Harry turned slightly as if surveying the room when he spotted a tall, very handsome, dark-haired man emerging from the shadows, followed by an equally tall man with cultured good looks and long silver-blond hair. A jolt of recognition flashed through the young homicide investigator as he watched the pair disappear onto the dance floor. Standing, he edged around toward the far side of the bar, trying to keep the men in sight as he did.

As Harry made his way to a vantage point on one side of the dance floor, he felt his upper arm seized, and had to clamp down hard to stop his automatic response to the restraint. Dark eyes examined his face intently, a stern expression tightening the angular features and thin lips as those eyes swept down him.

“Unless you are looking to draw attention to yourself, you will need a dance partner before venturing further. Come.”

The voice was deep and rich, like dark chocolate coating a strawberry. Harry followed the man out on to the floor, turning into his arms near the middle where he could see his prey sitting at a far table with the blond. Hands settled at his waist and tugged him fractionally closer, as Harry looped his arms around the older man's neck in keeping with his cover. Although the other man was several inches taller, they fit together perfectly, and Harry was surprised at the jolt of raw desire that shot through him. It was too dark to see the exact color of those eyes that swept over his face, but he could feel the heat and the intensity in the gaze.

Moving closer, Harry settled his chin on his arm, looking over the man's shoulder comfortably as they swayed slowly in counterpoint to the pounding music. The scent of sandalwood and Bay Rum filled his nostrils, and his fingers threaded through the fall of silky hair at the nape of his dance partner's neck. Even though his eyes remained focused on the pair of men at the table in the shadows, Harry was acutely aware of the heated weight of the hands splayed across the flare of his hips and the long fingers resting lightly on the curve of his arse. His body seemed to divorce itself from his on-duty brain, and hardened as they silently swayed.

His suspect stood abruptly as Harry continued to watch, the cold eyes sweeping the dance floor before resting briefly on Harry's face, sending a cold shiver down his spine. Leaning down, he said something to the blond before striding toward the front door, leaving his lackey to hurry in his wake. The undercover cop stiffened for a moment before he remembered that other members of his team were posted outside. Ron and Dean would take up the surveillance of the suspect; his part was done for the night.

“It doesn't appear he will be taking you up on your offer,” the deep voice purred in his ear. “Perhaps we might come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Harry's already interested body hardened further. “I am off work now, and… uh, don't have any other plans.”

“Indeed.”

The older man moved closer and brought their bodies flush, showing Harry that he was just as attracted as he rubbed gently against Harry with an equally interested erection. Groaning, the detective turned his face upward in a silent plea, and was rewarded as warm lips met his in a tentative caress, sending a ripple of desire straight to his cock. No one had ever had this type of effect on him, Harry thought, knowing he should care that his team was on assignment, and he should not be standing in the middle of a dimly lit dance floor wanting to be snogged by a stranger.

Giving up any pretext of dancing, Harry gave himself up to the heat of the kiss as his tongue slid out to tentatively stroke against the warm lips, mapping out the soft interior of the man's mouth as it granted him admittance. Ripping his mouth away when the need for oxygen became imperative, the younger man pulled back to examine the face above him. Not classically handsome, the face intrigued him, and he found himself trapped in the heated depths of the dark eyes.

“How old are you?”

A grin erupted as Harry remembered the subtle make-up his partner, Hermione, had applied that evening to enhance his already youthful appearance. “Twenty-five.”

“Come.”

The caress of that voice was almost enough to make him do just that, and his body mourned the loss of heat when the man stepped away. Long, slender fingers captured his hand and tugged him toward the door of the nightclub. His instincts, something his life often depended on, cheered him on as he followed blindly. They sat pressed together in the taxi as it sped through the light traffic of the early morning London, depositing them at the discreet side entrance to a posh hotel. The same hotel, Harry realized that he and his team of homicide detectives had rooms in for the duration of this operation.

The suite he was lead to was a good deal more elaborate than the standard, government-rate room he occupied on a much lower floor. Large floor to ceiling windows at one end of the room showed an array of lights that lit the London skyline. A hand trailed up his back before it came to rest on his shoulder, turning him. In the softly lit room, Harry could see that the eyes were the deep rich color of onyx, and heated with arousal.

“What do I call you?”

“Harry, and you?”

“You may address me as Severus.”

Fingers skimmed along his cheek before spearing into his wild mop of hair, tilting his head up. Harry moved to meet him, his arms entwining around the slender waist as his lips were taken in a searing kiss. Pressing himself against the taller man, a nagging concern played at the back of his mind, reminding him that he had never done anything like this before, and the recklessness both scared and excited him. He dropped his hands to slide over the taut curve of Severus' arse, pulling their hips together, thrusting against the answering hardness. Harry felt like he was being devoured as the talented tongue in his mouth did a sensual dance with his own. More aroused than he could ever remember being from a mere kiss, Harry moaned as he tried to get closer, and his fingers stroked across the fine fabric of the trousers, then down along the seam in the back. It was Severus' turn to groan in reaction as he broke the kiss to trail frantic kisses down the side of Harry's face.

“Bed?” Harry croaked as his earlobe was sucked into the wet heat.

They managed to maneuver into the bedroom without pulling apart, and Harry reached up to push the jacket off the broad shoulders. Going to work on the soft shirt, anxious to feel warm flesh under his questing fingers, he growled when he was forced stop while his own shirt was pulled off. Flames of sensation trailed across his chest as those marvelous fingers stroked across it, outlining the definition in his pectoral muscles.

“Very nice, Harry.” Surprise colored the dulcet tones as the fingers found and plucked at his flat, pink nipples.

The last of the buttons flew across the bedroom as the younger man gasped at the assault of pleasure. Tossing the ruined handful of silk aside, Harry popped the button on the trousers as he dislodged the hands on his chest, and leaned forward to swipe his tongue across a tan nipple. A hiss of air from above spurred him on, and he drew the hardening nub into his mouth as he hands pushed trousers and pants. Trailing his tongue down the warm skin, Harry sank to his knees as he maneuvered the clothing to pool on the floor. He ran his hands back up the toned calves and muscled thighs, straightening until his face was level with the well-developed penis standing proud from its nest of curls.

Hands fisted in his hair as he buried his face in the crisp hair and breathed in the scent of sandalwood and musk, leaning in further to nuzzle the heavy sac. Bracing his hands on each thigh, he turned his head to drag his tongue up the length of the uncut penis, loving the clean taste of warm skin, before laving his tongue around the already leaking tip. Opening his mouth, Harry slowly took the head into his mouth, learning the texture and taste of the tall man. He brought his hands up to cup the balls in their sac, rolling them with a gentle hand as he swallowed as much of the gorgeous cock as he could. His fingertips brushed against the soft skin behind the sac, and Severus gasped, his stance shifting to allow Harry more access.

Taking advantage, the detective explored the softness as he bobbed his head, stroking his fingers back until they found the puckered entrance, and the taller man jerked. A hard tug at his hair communicated the urgency, and Harry drew his hand back, pulling off of the hard cock with a soft pop. Planting one final kiss to the tip, he allowed himself to be pulled up and toss on to the soft bed. His clothing disappeared, the leather trousers peeled off his legs like he was a waiting gift, and his hand moved to wrap around his own cock.

Light from the living room softly lit the room, making his partner's alabaster skin glow and the fathomless dark eyes smolder with desire. The taller man moved on to the bed and crawled up his body, brushing Harry's slightly shorter but wider cock with his own as he straddled him on hands and knees. Leaning in, Severus kissed him, and Harry wondered what he thought of his own taste on Harry's tongue as he reached up and slid his fingers into the dark hair framing the man's face. Harry thrust upwards as the heat of the kiss threatened to incinerate him; he had before never shared a kiss so intense that he thought he could climax just from it alone. Warm skin covered his as a welcome weight settled on top of him. Erections rubbed together, and Harry wrapped his legs around the hard thighs as he thrust upwards again.

A hand stilled his frantic movements, and the kiss gentled before it ended. Warm lips trailed down his throat and nipped at the juncture between neck and shoulder, sending shivers through him. Harry gasped and arched up, struggling to stay coherent under the sensory assault. His nipples were suckled in turn, and his navel fucked by the talented tongue, as it trailed down his flesh towards his leaking erection. The young cop babbled incoherently in pleasure; knowing he would come instantly if he felt that tongue on his cock, he was relieved when the older man pulled away.

“Harry?”

That sultry voice was tight with desire and need, and he managed to force his eyes open enough to see that Severus had oiled fingers poised between his legs. Spreading them, Harry whimpered his approval, smiling slightly at the control that allowed his partner to even remember to ask permission. His eyes rolled back in his head as he felt a long finger breech him, and planted his feet on the bed and arched to meet it. A second joined it, the slight burn welcome as it pulled him back from the edge slightly.

“Oh, yes yes yes….” Harry tried to encourage the older man to go faster.

Hands pushed his thighs up, and Harry grabbed them as he felt the slick head of Severus' cock press against him, and slowly breeched the ring of muscles. The movement stopped. Harry forced his eyes open, and met the intense gaze.

“Condom?” Severus growled at him.

Harry blinked. Why the fuck would he have a condom? He hadn't planned on doing this tonight. “No, but I'm good,” he sputtered, “'m tested all the time, for my job.”

Severus hesitated for a heartbeat, sending him an inscrutable look, before thrusting slowly. It only took a moment before he was fully sheathed. Harry reached up to bring the dark head down for another searing kiss, as he wrapped his legs around his lover's waist. Contracting his muscles tightly, he was rewarded with a strangled cry, and then Severus was on his knees, hands on his hips, pounding against his sweet spot, and Harry could feel the coil of tension spiraling out of control. Without a single touch to his cock, Harry cried out as his climax slammed into him with the force of a freight train. Above him, he felt the older man gasp and thrust into him hard, and felt as he emptied himself into Harry.

Welcoming the weight as his lover slumped over him, Harry carded his fingers through the silky length of hair. Bathed in the warm afterglow, Harry pushed the recrimination to the back of his mind, as he rubbed circles on the sweat-damp back. He had never experienced an instant attraction like he had tonight with Severus, and he was certainly not one to pick up a man in a bar or have sex with a stranger. It was too bad that he would probably never see this man again; it was equally bitter to remember that the man believed him to be a prostitute, and he was sure Severus would never seek him out again.

A soft snore brought him out of his thoughts, and Harry gently extracted himself from his lover's embrace. With one last look at the angular face, sated and softened in sleep, he gathered his clothing and made his way to the bathroom off the living room, where he quickly cleaned up. Slipping out the door, Harry made his way down to his own room, where he stripped down and headed to the shower. Scrubbing himself hard, Harry tried to wash away the guilt he felt for his actions. He could not regret the interaction with the obviously cultured man, nor the best sex he'd ever had, but allowing himself to be picked up like a common whore had cheapened and colored the encounter.

hpsshpsshpss

Harry reported for work that afternoon at the Metropolitan Police Headquarters as normal, dressed in a hand-tailored gray suit in a conservative cut, white shirt, and blue tie. A trust fund left to him by his parents, killed when he was still a baby, contained enough money that he could live more than comfortably without working, a fact that he often remembered on days like today. He had been badgered by his team of detectives about where he had gone the night before, only to have his second in command, Hermione Granger, silence them with a glare. His head pounded from lack of sleep, and self-loathing made his stomach churn, putting him in a foul mood, which wasn't helped by the news of reorganization in the task force he headed looking for Tom Riddle. A commander was being brought over from an elite terrorism unit of Royal Protection.

Stalking into the office of his division head, Harry planted his hands on the edge of the large wooden desk, and barely contained a snarl. Albus Dumbledore was a fixture in the department and the law enforcement community, with a long string of successes in his long career. His gray hair and beard neatly trimmed, Albus was dressed in one of his usual flashy suits; today's was burgundy with a gold shirt and a burgundy and gold striped tie. Smiling in the face of the younger man's anger, he waited patiently for the explosion.

“We are this close, Albus!” Harry held up his thumb and forefinger. “This is a slap to my squad, no better than telling them that despite their hard work and long hours, they are not good enough to find this maniac! And just what the bloody hell is this pompous arse supposed to help us with?”

“Perhaps you should be directing your inquiries to said pompous arse.”

The silky voice spoke from behind him and Harry felt his heart stutter between beats. The anger drained out of him as he straightened and slowly turned around. His supervisor seemed to be amused at Harry's predicament, and stepped around the desk to make introductions.

“Commander Severus Snape, the head of the Riddle task force, Inspector Harry Potter. Harry, Commander Snape is on loan to us from Royal Protection.” The clear blue eyes bored into his as they pinned Harry. “One of the main reasons you were promoted to Inspector despite your youth, Harry, was your extraordinary ability to bring together a group of people as a team, utilizing their strengths to the best advantage. I will expect no less of you than that now.”

Harry nodded abruptly, his eyes never leaving the face of the man opposite him, his features frozen in a cold mask.

“Might I speak to Inspector Potter in private for a moment, Superintendent?”

Dumbledore looked between the two men before he nodded briefly and stepped out of the office, closing the door behind him. Severus Snape moved closer to where Harry stood, his back against the desk. The expensive navy blue suit fitted him perfectly, the crisp white shirt complimenting the dark hair and eyes, the green and silver tie a tasteful accent. Every in the harsh fluorescent lighting, the onyx eyes gleamed with an inner fire that spoke of passion or anger. Or both , Harry decided.

“I assume that you were undercover last night, using yourself as a decoy by posing as a prostitute. Correct?” The face and voice were both hard.

“Yes.”

The dark eyes drilled into him, and Harry was convinced they could read his very thoughts. “So you don't normally allow men to pick you up in nightclubs, and allow them to engage in sex acts on your person.”

“No.”

“Which would explain why a rent-boy would not have a condom,” Severus stepped closer. “Why me, Harry?”

Harry reached up and plucked a non-existent piece of fuzz off the navy lapel before resting his hand tentatively on the jacket. “It just felt right, I suppose. I have never done anything like that before….”

“And will never do anything like that again,” the older man admonished. “Are we going to have a problem working together?”

Harry threw him an assessing look. Commander Snape appeared to be a no nonsense type, and was undoubtedly a hard taskmaster, but something in the way he presented himself, along with the fact that he had taken the time to find out exactly what Harry's team was doing in the field, impressed him.

“If you allow us to do what we do best, as you observed last night, then I don't think we will have any issues in working with you,” he said quietly, “and we will catch the bastard, Severus, I promise you.”

With a nod of his head, Severus at last seemed satisfied, and the cold mask he wore relaxed slightly. Instead of moving away, he advanced until he pressed Harry back against the desk, their bodies aligning from chest to groin. Groaning silently as his body went hard in a microsecond, Harry tilted his head back just as a hand weaved its way into his hair.

“Just one more thing, Inspector Potter,” the older man purred. “Will you have dinner with me tonight?”

Stretching up, Harry whispered against his lips, “I thought you would never ask.”