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"Come in" Yashiro murmured when he heard the knocking on his office door.
He gently rose from his high-backed chair and smiled with the exact warmth everyone expected from the kind Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The fire in the grate cast orange highlights over his friendly face and the row of ancient books behind him.
The door opened and Satoru appeared, in his Gryffindor robes and the glasses that always slid down his nose a little. His dark hair was disheveled, and in contrast, his blue eyes shone with a spark of naiveté despite being in 7th year. Such a boy of his house: brave, honorable, incapable of ignoring a cry for help. So heroic.
So irritatingly heroic.
"Yashiro-Sensei... Did you called for me?" he asked with that mixture of respect and trust that students usually showed him.
"That's right," Yashiro replied, offering him a cordial smile. "Sit down. I wanted to congratulate you on your performance in class today. You faced your boggart with admirable courage.”
The boy blushed slightly and sat down at the polished desk. One detail Yashiro didn't miss: that honest embarrassment, that youthful glow in his cheeks. The entire class could have cheered him, and yet he still didn't seem to think himself worthy. He didn't let his pride go to his head.
Calmly, Yashiro poured tea into two porcelain cups adorned with silver runes. The warm aroma of rooibos permeated the office. Just a few drops, he'd thought. A little Veritaserum in Satoru's cup would be enough to draw the truth out of him. He wanted to know how that brat had managed to thwart, time and again, the plans he'd woven in the shadows. How could he anticipate every attack? How could he always arrive just in time to save the Mudbloods he was meant to eliminate?
Satoru took the cup with an awkward smile. He drank, unsuspecting.
They chatted for a few minutes about the class, Quidditch, and trivial matters. Yashiro's perfect mask remained intact, every word calculated, every gesture polished. And then the boy blinked a few times and placed a hand to his forehead.
"Yashiro-Sensei... I... I feel weird. My head..." he murmured.
Yashiro's heart leaped. He leaned over to his desk drawer and pulled out the bottle. He turned it, checked the label. Damn. For the first time, he'd made such a stupid mistake. In the potions cabinet, it was somewhat dark and he'd been doing it in a hurry, he hadn't seen properly. The damn bottle didn't contain Veritaserum.
It was Amortentia.
His impeccable plan had been thwarted by a ridiculous mistake, by a mislabeled bottle. Now he had before him a student under the influence of the love potion. A picturesque situation, yes, but also extremely dangerous. If anyone discovered them...
Yashiro looked up. Satoru stared at him, his blue eyes clouded and his pupils dilated. His breathing was labored, his face flushed, as if the entire office had suddenly been filled with the scent of something irresistible.
Yashiro narrowed his eyes, silently examining him. This wasn't what he'd planned. This wasn't what he needed. But… the way Satoru was looking at him, vulnerable and confused, sparked a new interest. A curiosity.
"Relax," he said in his softest voice, approaching like a concerned father. "Just a little dizziness. I'll help you."
The boy nodded slowly, but didn't look away. Yashiro could feel it: the attraction tangled in confusion, that dangerous instinct pulling him toward him.
A setback, he told himself. Nothing more than that.
"Professor..." Satoru whispered, his voice cracking.
A chill ran down his spine. He held him firmly, all too aware of how easy it would be to manipulate him in this state. And suddenly, the idea of taking advantage of it didn't seem unpleasant, but tempting.
Yashiro suppressed a low, cruel laugh. How ironic: he'd planned to interrogate the boy, to extract answers laced with liquid truth… and instead, now he had a teenage heart beating against his chest, burning with a desire he didn't understand.
Satoru blinked, confused, as if struggling with an impossible thought. Yashiro brought his hand up to his face and smoothed back a stray lock of hair that had fallen over his glasses. The contact was brief, but enough to draw a sigh from the Gryffindor.
He had to think of a solution. But… why deprive himself of that moment of absolute power? He cupped his chin and pulled him closer. He could smell Satoru's sweet scent contrasting with his strong cologne.
"Do you know what I like most about you, Satoru?" he asked, letting his voice drop to a deep, intimate tone. "That mania of yours for saving everyone. You always show up at just the right moment. As if the whole world depended on you. As if... you could see the future."
The boy was slightly surprised by his words.
"I... I just... don't want anyone... to suffer."
"Ah... so noble." Yashiro's lips curved into a dark smile. "But tell me, who will save you when you're the one trapped?"
The question hung between them in the stifling heat of the office lit by the embers of the fireplace. Yashiro knew he was playing with fire: a student under his control, an induced desire that could destroy them both if anyone discovered it.
Still, he leaned his face a little closer. He only let Satoru feel his breath, that the slightest distance was torment. A poisoned sweetness.
He turned away to go find a solution. Perhaps some antidote in the cabinet, then he would erase his memory and that would be it. He would try again another time.
Satoru hugged him from behind, pressing himself against him with a tenderness that disarmed him. Even through the thick fabric of his robes, Yashiro could feel the feverish heat emanating from the boy, and that trembling as if from an illness. The Gryffindor's blue eyes searched him desperately, dilated, shining under the influence of Amortentia. That look...
It awoke something ravenous in him.
"Y-Yashiro-sensei..." Satoru whispered, his voice cracking, as he leaned closer to him.
Yashiro met those enormous blue eyes, moist with emotion and shining with intensity. The boy's flushed cheeks contrasted with his teacher's measured calm.
"I... I don't know why," Satoru stammered. "I don't want to go to the hospital wing... I want to stay here, with you... don't go."
Yashiro stifled a laugh and bit his lip, amused by his student's insistence and sweet desperation. That transformed the situation into something unexpected... almost comical, yet intriguing.
"Really? And why, Satoru?" he asked, leaning in to meet her gaze.
"I... I-I like you..." Satoru confessed, blushing and slightly trembling, biting his lower lip.
Yashiro laughed softly, with a cruel, playful undertone. He didn't know if he wanted to break it or continue playing with it.
"Oh, how cliché," he murmured. "I always thought those confessions were for clumsy girls... but you... you surprise me."
Satoru lowered his gaze, but didn't move away. Yashiro's closeness, the pressure of her body against his, made him feel vulnerable and, at the same time, safe in a strange place. Yashiro noticed everything: the trembling in her hands, the way her shoulders relaxed when he got closer, her uneven breathing.
"Yes... I know." "And that this is wrong, that we shouldn't..." Satoru whispered, still holding him.
Yashiro gently ran his fingers down the boy's cheek, enjoying the touch, the silent surrender of their potion-induced false love.
"You're right. We shouldn't," he said, his voice deep and low. "But... no one's looking now."
The Gryffindor lowered his head, shyly biting his lip. Yashiro smiled, amused. He'd never been interested in any of the brats and snot-nosed boys at that school. Not even the teachers who flirted with him, even if they were attractive. Yes, he might find someone attractive, but it didn't truly satisfy his deepest desires. It wasn't enough. Love, conventional sex, didn't satisfy him. He didn't want to kiss or hug anyone; he took more pleasure in watching the light leave their eyes.
But the situation he found himself in was... interesting. Strange. Satoru was tender. Yes. That contrast between tender, sweet, almost innocent love and the perverse lust she awakened in him was interesting. That's what it was. The contrast of something as sweet and tender as a butterfly in its web.
And Satoru...
It's very different to desire your rival.
Yashiro sat down and invited him to sit on his legs on either side of his waist. Every movement was precise: a light touch, an adjustment of posture, and Satoru shuddered with each touch, breathing faster. There were no words, just small sighs, movements, and the shared heartbeat of the moment.
"Tell me, Satoru... Have you ever been with anyone?" Yashiro asked, his voice low and heavy with curiosity and control.
"N-no... never," the boy stammered, blushing and breathing heavily.
"Really? But you're such a cute boy...
“No one is interesting to me. Except you... “
Satoru's vulnerability fascinated him, and his silent submission made him almost addicted to every reaction, every shudder.
"And now that I know this, tell me... What would you do for me?" Yashiro asked, his tone playful and provocative.
"Anything..." Satoru whispered, giving himself over without hesitation.
"Anything...?" Yashiro repeated, his voice deep, caressing his face gently but firmly. "Whatever I want? Anything I want?"
The boy nodded, biting his lip, completely surrendered. Yashiro leaned a little closer, enjoying every gesture, every small shudder, every labored breath. His control, his fascination with Satoru, grew with every second they spent like this, trapped in an intense, dangerous, and utterly addictive tension.
“Whatever you want, Yashiro-sensei—
“What I want… is for you to keep calling me like that.” Yashiro whispered, enjoying the moment, the game, the power he had over him.
He kissed Satoru's pink lips.
“And believe me, I'm going to have fun with you.”
Satoru's lips were still trembling when Yashiro forced him to face him. His fingers remained firm on his jaw, like an invisible shackle. The boy's breath was ragged, unable to move away, unable to resist.
The boy moaned softly. Yashiro enjoyed it, clenching his jaw a little tighter until he gasped.
"Come on," he whispered, sliding his fingers from her face to her neck, feeling her racing pulse beneath her burning skin. "I want to hear it from you. Tell me what you want."
Satoru closed his eyes, trembling. The potion was dragging him down, his body responding docilely even though his mind couldn't understand anything.
"I... want..." he stammered, flushed, unable to articulate it.
Yashiro lost his patience. With a jerk, he shoved him back against the desk, leaning over him like a shadow, trapping his wrists. His dark eyes shone with excitement, a crooked smile etched on his lips.
"You have a mouth, use it," he repeated, and slapped her sharply across the cheek, hard enough to draw a moan from her, a mixture of surprise and desire.
The Gryffindor looked at him, his eyes glazed, his breathing uncontrolled. And then, barely a whisper, the confession came out:
"I want him to kiss me again..."
Yashiro's smile widened like a dangerous crack.
"That's better."
He leaned in and devoured him. A fierce, demanding kiss that left no room for air or resistance. Satoru's lips opened beneath his, docile, and Yashiro took advantage of the opportunity to invade him with absolute dominance. He kissed him as if claiming him, as if every gasp was his, as if the naive boy already belonged to him. He ran his hands possessively all over his body.
Satoru moaned into his mouth, arching his back slightly, as if the contact was too much. The heat of his body betrayed him, pleading for more even as his mind struggled with bewilderment.
When Yashiro pulled away, just a few inches, he held him, observing the deep blush on his cheeks and his lips wet from the kiss.
"That's what I wanted to hear," he whispered, brushing his thumb over the boy's lower lip, stained by the pressure of his bite. "Now you understand. It's not about saving anyone... it's about surrendering."
Satoru, panting, barely managed to utter:
"If it's you... I don't care."
Yashiro stifled a dark laugh. What a delicious irony. The hero who thwarted his crimes had just opened the most dangerous door for him: surrender.
The hand on his face lowered to his neck, pressing barely on his throat. Not enough to suffocate, but enough to mark his territory, to remind him who was in charge.
Satoru was trembling. He didn't know if it was from fear, desire, or both, mixed in a poison impossible to resist.
And Yashiro, with his crooked smile, seemed more alive than ever.
He kissed him hungrily again. Satoru kissed him back awkwardly, his inexperience evident. He gasped when Yashiro thrust his tongue into his mouth and clumsily tried to keep up with him, moaning and sighing.
They both broke apart breathlessly, a trickle of saliva connecting them. Yashiro wiped it with his black leather glove and caressed his flushed face. That look, the lips wet with saliva... it inspired him. And between the touch and the way Satoru thrashed desperately on top of him, his crotch showed it. Oh. He wanted to just do it, but no. He had to enjoy it more.
He had to savor it longer before ruining it.
“Would you do me... a favor, Satoru?
The boy nodded obediently, smiling.
“Anything…”
“You said it yourself, "Anything" then... on your knees.”
Confused, the boy obeyed and knelt between the man's legs. Huge blue eyes were expectant.
“Unbuckle my belt…”
And the young one did. His member almost jumped out in his face. Yashiro was proud, as it was something he'd never been self-conscious about. Satoru looked at him, surprised and slightly afraid of seeing that it was so big.
“Don't be afraid, Satoru…”
“I-It's not fear... It's just…”
That embarrassment returned, and he lowered his gaze. Yashiro understood everything.
“Does it gross you out?”
The blushing boy bit his lip and nodded slightly.
“But if it's up to you... I'll do my best. E-Even if it disgusts me.”
The man smiled. This boy was so drugged by that potion that he was willing to do something disgusting to please him. He gently cupped one of his cheeks as he leaned in close, and the boy began to lick slowly, gently. He couldn't help but arch his back at the first contact. Her pink tongue against that enormous member was an image that made him want to finish right there. But no.
He had to be patient.
“... More tongue... Do it slowly...Right there…”
With his thumb, he opened Satoru’s mouth, caressing his tongue. The cold black leather of his gloves against the soft lips. His lips were shiny with saliva and precum. His disgusted face, in contrast to what he was doing, was something that drove him crazy.
Satoru stopped licking with a grimace of disgust, his lips parted as Yashiro grabbed his hair to guide him.
“Come on, Satoru... do it. Do it for me.”
The young man swallowed and continued, holding back the disgust he felt at this. Truth be told, he'd never been interested in men, and doing this with one... but it was Yashiro. And deep in his chest, he felt that he loved him and had to please him. He closed his eyes as he continued with his task, his tongue moving up and down, swallowing his disgust and concentrating on pleasing the older man.
Yashiro moaned softly, biting his lip at the sight. Seeing the boy's desperation to make him feel good even though it disgusted him was incredible.
“Open your mouth a little wider…”
The young man did, and he thrust into his mouth. Satoru flinched, but Yashiro gripped him tightly by the hair to keep him in place. He could feel her suffocating around his member.
“Mhph!”
“Stay still... relax and breathe through your nose. That's it…”
Yashiro closed his eyes for a moment. Enjoying the sensation of being swallowed. The wet heat of Satoru's mouth as he mindlessly fucked her, gripping her hair tightly and bucking his hips, taking her mouth. He didn't know how long he stayed like that.
Taking it out of his mouth, Satoru coughed and breathed heavily. On his knees, his cheeks pink and tears in his eyes. What a sight. Yashiro stroked his cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb.
“Ah Satoru... Almost there. Will you do something else for me?”
“Anything... You... ask" he exclaimed in a hoarse, breathless voice.
“Open your mouth…”
He did it again, slightly sticking out his tongue. Yashiro stroked himself furiously, pointing at the boy's adorable face.
Ah
The climax. For a moment, he felt like he saw stars.
When he opened his eyes again, thin white lines marred Satoru's face and mouth. One even hung from his lip.
Yashiro adjusted his pants. He grabbed Satoru by the jaw and pulled him toward him. He kissed him without reluctance, tasting himself on his tongue. Satoru whimpered desperately into his tongue.
“Y-Yashiro-sensei… A-Ah…”
Satoru sat on his legs to hug him "tenderly," but Yashiro was surprised when he felt through his uniform pants how aroused he was too.
"What's wrong, Satoru?" he asked with sweet perversion. "Did you like what we did?"
“I… I don't know why…”
So sweet, he didn't even fully understand what was happening to his body. Yashiro then understood how inexperienced he was. Maybe he'd never even touched himself before.
“Tell me... I want to hear it.”
“A-Ah, please…”
“Do you want me to touch you?”
He nodded, biting his lip, but was surprised when Yashiro slapped him lightly. The cold leather of his gloves against his velvety skin.
“I told you. You have the ability to speak, right? Then the most logical thing to do would be to use it.”
He swallowed nervously.
“Y-Yashiro-sensei, please... I want you to touch me.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Y-Yes. P-Please.”
He begged desperately, grabbing his robes and smiling with pleasure. Oh. How delicious to humiliate him like this. He was dying to know that all of this would disgust him if he hadn't taken Amortentia.
“You want me to touch you... Like this?”
He began to caress him over his uniform, and Satoru moaned. Yashiro looked at him, pleased.
“P-Please, faster. More…”
Yashiro sighed. It would be uncomfortable with so many clothes. And now he was curious to see a little more of that white skin.
He pulled his uniform pants down just enough. Ah. It were normal and pink. He was very aroused. He felt the thrill in his chest of being the first to touch this boy in such an intimate way as no one else had. Of being the first and, for now, the only one.
“Satoru… Look at you…”
Yashiro grabbed his hair violently to force him to look at himself. His surprised blue eyes contrasted with the blush on his cheeks.
“Look at you… look at how hard you are. Why are you like this?”
He pulled his hair harder.
“A-Ah, for… for you…”
He grabbed his hair again, but to kiss him grotesquely. His tongue brushed against Satoru’s teeth and bit his lips. He moved down to his neck while continuing to masturbate him slowly, torturously. Satoru moaned loudly, but with his free gloved hand, she covered his mouth. Yashiro was dying to hear those sweet moans, but couldn't risk it. They had to hide it.
“They might hear us…Be quiet”
Satoru muffled his moans against the black leather of Yashiro's gloves. He couldn't control himself, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he stroked him there for the first time.
But Yashiro suddenly stopped.
Satoru looked at him desperately. No. He couldn't stop. Not now. He wanted to touch himself, but Yashiro stopped him by gripping his wrist tightly.
“Ask me. Ask me to continue.”
“Please…”
“Please…?”
“Please, Yashiro-Sensei…”
And Yashiro continued touching him while kissing his neck and covering his mouth again to keep him from crying out. His body seethed as he trembled desperately; it was so much pleasure, too much.
Satoru shakily came with a stifled moan, staining himself and Yashiro's hand white. Yashiro placed two fingers in Satoru's mouth for him to lick. The boy obeyed his "lover"'s request. He made a slight grimace of disgust again, but Yashiro kissed him tenderly again to distract him.
“So sweet…”
Satoru gasped, flushed, his eyes glazed over. And Yashiro knew the potion would wear off in a moment. It was wonderful, and he would love to continue, but he couldn't risk it. After straightening his clothes, he kissed him one last time on the cheek. Satoru wanted to kiss him on the lips but was interrupted when Yashiro pointed her wand at him.
“Obliviate.”
His eyes glazed over; the memory spell took immediate effect, leaving him in a state of complete trance. The man grabbed him under the chin and pointed his wand at him again.
“Imperio. You're going to go straight to your room to sleep without speaking to anyone.”
Satoru nodded, completely spellbound, obeying his teacher and heading to the Gryffindor common room.
The man sighed, exhausted by everything he'd experienced. This was... unexpected. Not to say extremely interesting. And exciting, too exciting. Of course, he'd been with women, even engaged to one, but... none of them had ever provoked such sensations in him. Sex with them was mechanical, normal, and gentle. Very gentle. And just to keep up appearances.
But this, everything he'd done with Satoru was... words couldn't describe it. Satoru's desperate look was something he'd never forget. His rosy cheeks. How his bangs fell messily over his forehead. His pink lips...
He poured himself a glass of cognac and sipped it slowly, watching the fire in the fireplace burn the wood. The dim, warm light illuminating his features as he remembered everything, as he felt it on his skin.
He took the small vial of Amortentia and turned it over in his hand, looking at it intently. He couldn't help but smile wickedly.
He could do it again.