Title: Private Lessons
Rating: NC-17 for graphic m/m sex
Warnings: AU, obviously
Word count: 3503 per MS Word
Summary: Professor Riddle meets his match
Disclaimer: I don't own them -- if I did, Tom would have decent motivations and would be in the books a heck of a lot more. Blaise would look like Hans Matheson. This work of fiction depicts sex between an adult and a young man who is of the age of consent in the fictitious world that he lives in.
Author's notes: This kind of developed differently than I thought it would.
Written for Prompt #104:
Tom Riddle has been the DADA Professor since the 1940's. For the most part, he's been able to keep his relationships with the students strictly professional. Until Blaise Zabini comes to him for some private tutoring in seventh year DADA. AU obviously, Smut, anything goes except scat, gs, necro. (suggested by by_starkiller)
Above all else, knowledge had always been sacred to Tom Riddle. Even in his earliest days at Hogwarts, he sought after every scrap of knowledge, every obscure spell, every charm and curse and potion. Sometimes his bookish ways earned him the ridicule of his fellow Slytherins, but his knowledge and skill with magic (not to mention his raw power thanks to the unbroken line back to his ancestor, Salazar Slytherin) saved his life in the final battle against the Dark Lord Grindelwald. Not too many of his peers could claim the same as they clustered, terrified, behind shields he himself had woven.
But fighting magical battles wasn't what Tom wanted to do. He had learned his impressive skills from some of the best teachers, and by reading ancient tomes from every culture he could find. He wanted to share his knowledge. He wanted to teach.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts professorship was his -- no one could deny he had earned it. The day newly appointed Headmaster Albus Dumbledore gave him his official professor's robes and the key to the DADA office was the happiest day of his life.
Over the decades, he trained scores of young students in the art of defending themselves from magical attacks, evil magical creatures, and other dark elements of the wizarding world. He was a respected professor, and his knowledge of the darker aspects of their world (there was some suspicion about how he had gained this knowledge, but it was more than obvious that he was working on the side of good) and how to combat it was second to none.
As a person, Tom was studious and quiet, unless angered. Then his wrath was terrible, indeed. He was a passionate man, despite his normally quiet nature: passionate about his beliefs, passionate about knowledge, and, the rumours had it, passionate in bed. The rumours also indicated he was bisexual, and his physical attractiveness easily drew attention from both men and women.
Sometimes, it even drew attention from his students -- something he was most adamant against encouraging.
He was an intensely private person at times, and felt no urge to share stories of his own misadventures in his youth. He was, however, determined that students -- no matter how interested and seemingly mature -- were strictly hands off. Which is why he seemed so uncomfortable when one Blaise Zabini came to him for one-on-one tutoring.
"There's little I can teach you alone that you can't learn in class, Blaise," he told the dark haired, storm-blue-eyed boy. Blaise was a Slytherin in his Seventh Year, and Tom found him strikingly handsome, which made his request for private tutoring all the more difficult to turn away. But, he was determined not to cross that one line.
"But, Professor Riddle... I need private tutoring. There are... I can't..." Blaise sighed and seemed to deflate, all of his confidence ebbing in one gust of breath.
"Tell me what it is, Blaise?" Tom asked softly, ignoring the silky black hair, the perfect pale skin, the blue eyes that were as stormy as the ocean's depths. "What's wrong?"
"Promise you won't tell anyone?" Blaise asked, and Tom could hear genuine fear in his voice.
It was suddenly obvious to Tom that this was not some kind of seduction attempt. The boy was almost trembling, now, and he was genuinely concerned. "I promise, Blaise," he answered softly, sitting on the desk in front of his student.
"I don't need a wand," Blaise confessed, his voice barely louder than a whisper.
"What?" Tom asked, eyebrows shooting towards his hairline.
"I don't need a wand to do magic," Blaise elaborated, his eyes darting towards the door and then the windows as if he feared someone might be listening.
Softly, carefully so as to not frighten him more, "That's not an entirely unknown talent, but it's very rare, especially in one so young..."
"It isn't something I learned. I've always been like this..."
"You use a wand in class -- I've seen you."
"It's a prop -- an empty stick. It's..." And Blaise stopped, swallowed hard and took a deep breath, then said, "I'm afraid I'm losing control of it. I need your help."
Tom studied his expression, seeing the truth and the fear in it, then had to steel himself as Blaise ducked his gaze, long lashes hiding his stormy eyes. The boy was desperate and he couldn't turn him away, but oh sweet Merlin, it was going to kill him working so closely with him every day...
"All right -- I'll help you, and I'll keep your secret," he said, "but you have to come to class as well. I don't want you using this as an excuse to cut my classes as well as all your others."
"No, sir!" Blaise answered, looking up again with hope now shining in his eyes. "I never get bored in your class, Professor..."
Blaise kept his promise, never missing a single DADA class, and Tom began testing and training his wandless talent in daily sessions. The boy was right, he was close to losing control, and Tom was sure he knew what caused it. Blaise seemed to have what they referred to these days as 'anger management issues'. Tom was familiar with that problem himself, and wasn't entirely sure how he could help Blaise control it, but he could at least help the boy develop a good training routine.
The problem, though, was what to do about those looks he'd catch Blaise giving him when the boy thought he wasn't looking, or the unconsciously sensual way he moved. Tom would catch himself staring at him and force himself to look away, but he was constantly drawn back to him again and again.
Of course, he'd tell himself, the boy was seventeen -- it was no surprise that he was constantly exuding sexuality. And, it was no surprise that Tom found himself drawn to that bad-boy attitude that Blaise wore so beautifully. He just had to keep reminding himself that Blaise was a student, and that he should not touch...
Tom sighed and turned back from the board to study his class. Gods above and below, they were going to drive him mad before the year was out. "Don't any of you have an answer? You're Seventh Year! Yes, Granger, please tell me you've figured it out."
"It's a Medusa -- looking at her turns people to stone," Hermione answered, her tone just a touch too smug for Tom's liking, which is why he couldn't help smiling when Blaise rolled his eyes and lazily raised his hand.
"That's close, but we aren't talking about a literal petrification here. Good try though. Mr. Zabini?"
"It's a Basilisk -- the king of the serpents," Blaise answered with a slight smile. "Its gaze kills, but if you don't see it directly, it only petrifies -- with a slim chance of a cure."
"Twenty-five points to Slytherin -- at least someone's been doing his reading," Tom said, relieved. "And can any of you tell me what the cure is?"
This time, more hands went up, and he noticed both Draco and Potter eyeing each other across the aisle. With a quickly hidden smirk, he strode to stand in the aisle just ahead of them. "All right, my potions experts, are you positive you know what it is?" When both of them nodded, he accioed two pieces of chalk. "Twenty-five more points to the House with the most accurate recipe on the board first. And the rest of you, no helping!"
For a few minutes, the class was silent except for frantic writing on the board. He stood between them to block their view of each other and watched the class, almost laughing at the grimace Blaise made when one of them obviously got something incorrect. Once both of them put their chalk down, Tom sent them back to their seats, then walked back to the rows of desks and turned to face the board.
"Hmmn. Very good -- very close, Potter. Except that you'd burn the mandrake at that temperature. Draco, you were also very close, but no. Sympathetic magic works in some things, but not against a Basilisk. River stones have nothing to do with this potion. Twenty-five points to Gryffindor, and the lot of you have a yard to write regarding Basilisks for the next class! Draco, I suggest you review your Advanced Potions text and never mention this to Professor Snape. Dismissed -- except for you, Mr. Zabini."
As the other students rushed out, he overheard some of the girls giggling and talking about Blaise. He watched them walk out, frowning slightly, then dragged his attention to the youth lounging at his desk. "Yes, Professor?" Blaise asked with a smirk.
"Tell me, exactly what do you know about the king of the serpents?"
"Well, it's rumoured there's one Salazar Slytherin kept as a pet, but that's got to be just old tales, right?"
"Not necessarily," Tom answered with a smile. "I was thinking we should find some place more out of the way for our exercises, and there are only two that seem to be private enough to keep your secret safe. One is the Room of Requirement, and the other... well, the other is a bit of a secret..."
"A... secret secret?"
"You could say that," Tom answered, then he nodded. "Come with me."
Tom had never shown the Chamber to another living soul -- after his accidental release of the Basilisk in his Fifth Year, he locked it away out of fear that he would be expelled. It had been a terrible tragedy, the girl's death, and while he had unfairly accused Hagrid of releasing the creature, Hagrid had been harbouring a dangerous beast, too. Acromantulas were much more liable to creep out of their hiding places than armless, legless serpents, and as long as he periodically fed the Basilisk a large meal of local beef, it kept the serpent happy, and it kept the local butchers paid very well. He did feel a little guilty about Hagrid's plight, so he often made certain that a little extra gold made its way to the groundkeeper's stocking on Christmas.
So he continued to keep the Chamber of Secrets exactly that -- until now. He smiled broadly as he led Blaise down into the huge stone tunnels. When they came to the door he spoke the Parseltongue phrase that opened it, and he could feel Blaise staring at him in amazement. "You're... oh wow. You really are Slytherin's heir!" the boy murmured, and he felt his cheeks colour slightly.
"Yes, I am," he answered softly, opening the door and ushering Blaise through into the Chamber itself, the long stone walkway leading to the pool before Salazar's statue, guarded on either side by serpent pillars. "Welcome to the Chamber of Secrets, Blaise."
"This is... amazing. Why are you showing me this now?" the boy asked, turning back to him with an awed expression, then looking around the Chamber again.
"I don't really know, to tell you the truth. I told myself it was because you shared a potentially dangerous secret with me, but there was no obligation attached to that; no need for me to show you this. I think... it's been a long time since I had a friend who I could truly talk with, and I wanted to thank you." Even as he spoke he realized how dangerous that idea could be, but it was too late to take it back now. It was right there, lurking in his mind, now, and he knew where it could lead.
There was a low rumbling sound, then a whispering hiss in the darkness, and Blaise jumped and then turned to stare at Tom as he spoke again in Parseltongue. "That was the Basilisk!" Blaise gasped, and Tom nodded. "Where is it? Is it safe to be down here?"
"You are the safest you could ever possibly be, Blaise," Tom answered calmly. "I am the only person in the school who can control him -- he's my friend."
"That's some friend..."
"When I was just a little younger than you, he was my only friend," Tom said, then he smiled at Blaise again. "But that's not something to worry about now -- it was a long time ago. If you follow me a little further, there's a good area for practice."
"You didn't just bring me down here to practice, Professor. Tom," Blaise said, swallowing and trying to look far more bold than he felt. He stepped closer and Tom almost took a step back, only managing to restrain himself by sheer will. "You brought me down here so we could be alone together, with no chance of prying eyes or accidental interruptions..."
"That's not -- that's not true," Tom said, his voice less steady than he wanted it to be. "You're my student, and I'm your teacher. I'm not-- I don't--"
"Want me?" Blaise asked, and suddenly the boldness was back full-force, that beautiful stormy gaze locking onto and holding his. "I don't believe you, Tom. I've seen you looking at me, watching me when you think I'm not looking..."
"I-- I don't sleep with students. It's wrong," Tom protested. "I can't..."
"But you want me, and I want you -- what's wrong about it? I'm seventeen -- I'm legal!" Blaise pushed, closing the distance and reaching up to stroke Tom's curls back from his forehead. "I know you want me..."
"Merlin help me, I do," Tom whispered, raising his hand and realizing he was trembling. "I can't..." But his hand reached for Blaise, stroked his cheek, ran his thumb over the boy's lips. He gasped as Blaise opened his mouth and licked, bit his lip as Blaise's tongue teased the pad of his thumb and then danced a lewd swirling pattern around it. "Please stop..."
Blaise pulled back, eyes huge, and asked, "Do you really want me to?"
Tom swallowed hard; closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Finally, he shook his head. "No." He closed the distance between them and pulled Blaise into a hungry kiss, pressing their bodies together as if he could mould them both into a single being.
Blaise reached up, tangling one hand in Tom's long curls, the other wrapping around his waist and pulling them even tighter against each other. He moaned into the plundering kiss, ground his erection against Tom's. Finally, he had to break the kiss to catch his breath, the heady lust and hunger overwhelming both of them completely. "Professor Riddle -- Tom -- I want you," he breathed.
Unsteady, Tom stared at him, eyes dark with arousal and body trembling in need. This was wrong -- he never abused his position or power like this -- and yet, it seemed the student was more in control than the teacher. A shiver of pleasure ran down his spine at that, heat blazing in his balls and settling deep. "Yes," he breathed, all the hunger and need of the past few months of restraint contained in that one word. "Please, Blaise..."
Blaise took his hand in a firm grip and led Tom to the dry ground he'd been planning to use as a training ground. There he stripped off his own robes and laid them down, then turned his attention to Tom's professor's robes. Tom was too busy staring at Blaise's tight and torn jeans to really resist being stripped of his robes. The tantalizing hints of pale skin showing through torn denim were driving him mad, and he had to touch soon or he'd lose his mind.
Blaise frowned, seeing that Tom still wore a school jumper and a shirt beneath his robes, and turned his attention to stripping his teacher of every stitch of clothing he wore. Finally, he had Tom naked and panting, his slender body flushed with arousal and achingly hard. Tom's cock arched up towards his belly, and Blaise couldn't help himself -- he had to touch and stroke it, marvelling at the size and at Tom's intact foreskin. "You're... you're fucking huge, Tom," he murmured, looking up to meet green eyes that were hazy with pleasure. "You should lie down before you fall down, because I'm going to suck you until you come..."
Tom couldn't hold back the moan, Blaise's words weaving a spell around him more intense than magic. He shook his head and whispered, "Now you're wearing too much."
Blaise gave him a sly smile and purred, "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer me in these? Your eyes keep going back to my jeans..."
"They're... very tantalizing," he whispered, his hands dropping to Blaise's belt, "but I'd prefer you out of them if we're going to be..."
"Fucking?" Blaise asked with a smirk, his own hands sliding down to teasingly stroke Tom's cock. "Yeah, don't worry, we'll be naked together really soon."
Tom groaned, trying hard to retain enough of his intellect to strip Blaise when all he wanted to do was pull the boy tight into his arms and rub against him. Trembling fingers unfastened Blaise's jeans and tugged them down, and he let out a soft whimper when he realized Blaise wasn't wearing underwear. "Oh-- do you usually -- no underwear? All the time?"
Blaise laughed and wriggled out of his jeans, then tugged off his jumper, revealing smooth pale skin. "Most of the time, yeah," he answered with a wicked grin. "You like that, don't you -- thinking about how ready I am to fuck you..."
Tom moaned again and pulled Blaise down onto their robes, panting as his student pinned him down and rubbed against him, hardness sliding against hardness. "Ohfuck..." he whispered, then he pulled Blaise into a hungry kiss, the last of his resistance failing as he felt the slick slide of precum against his skin. When Blaise deepened the kiss he whimpered, soft needy sounds growing louder as heat flared between them.
Blaise broke the kiss to nibble his way down Tom's neck, dipped his tongue into the hollow of a collarbone, and slid one hand down between them to wrap around both of their cocks. "Fuck, you're so hard..." he whispered against Tom's throat, distracted from stroking them by Tom's foreskin.
Tom whimpered louder as Blaise's fingers gently stroked and pulled at him, hips bucking up helplessly in reaction. "Oh fuck! That-- please, gods..." he gasped, bending his knees and planting his feet on the ground as Blaise began to work his way down. "Yes..."
Blaise licked and nibbled his way down Tom's lean form, pausing to pay special attention to each of his nipples, tongue swirling around and around until Tom squirmed and whined. Only then did he continue his downward path, finally kneeling between Tom's legs and looking down at his cock hungrily. "Fuck, you're sexy!" he growled, then he leaned in to lick a hot wet stripe from root to tip, grinning as Tom cried out. "Oh yeah..."
"Stop teasing me, please!" Tom whimpered, squirming and panting as Blaise held his cock still with one hand and began licking and teasing at his foreskin. "Yes -- fuck yes so good!" he hissed, his thighs trembling with arousal. When Blaise's other hand slid down to fondle his balls, he arched into the attention, now panting and moaning so loudly the sound occasionally echoed through the Chamber.
Blaise pulled back enough to look up at him and grin, then opened his mouth wide and sucked his cock in, talented tongue swirling around hot hardness and driving Tom wild. He groaned around his mouthful as Tom tangled the fingers of one hand in his hair and started thrusting, pleasure overriding all sense of decorum. Then the hand on Tom's balls slid back behind them and Blaise made a slight gesture with his fingers, casting a lubrication charm. He teased his fingers over Tom's hole, smiling as Tom's cock twitched in his mouth. Fingers probed and teased, finally pressed inside, and Tom groaned hotly, body trembling with the force of his arousal.
"Yes yes fuck yes!" Tom cried out, and Blaise grinned around his mouthful, pressed deep, and sucked hard. Tom cried out again, wordless sounds of ecstasy, and came.
Blaise continued to suck and lick until the spasms ceased, refusing to lose even a drop. Finally he let Tom's cock go with a gentle kiss to the head, and looked up through his hair to see Tom panting and giving him an awed smile. "All right there, Professor?" he asked with a smirk.
"Bloody fantastic," Tom panted out. Once he finally caught his breath, he tugged Blaise down onto the robes with him and said, "Somehow I don't think I'll be the only one giving private lessons..."
Blaise smiled and rolled atop him to kiss him hungrily, then pulled back with a pleased grin. "Yeah, I think we both have many things we could learn from each other."