Overall, so far, Barty wasn't sure what to feel. For the most part, teaching was fun, even though he wished teenage hormones would have less of an effect on girls whenever in his general vicinity. Or on the largely female teaching staff for that matter. But that really wasn't anything all that new ever since he had reached puberty himself.
Still, the first few days had been going quite well so far, because apparently being young gave him enough of a cool bonus to be registered as funny rather than insulting with his remarks. Nevertheless sometimes he was glad for a quiet moment and actually finding the teacher's lounge empty during a free lesson was bliss, even before the machine finished his coffee. He watched the liquid drip into the cup, leaning back against the counter and absently drumming his fingers on it.
Seeing a new face was still jarring, no matter how often it happened. Months upon years, he worked with the same dull people, the routine rarely changing and yet today, that wasn't really the case. Someone new had arrived. He knew there was a new teacher before he'd even met him, not only had half the staff insisted on telling him during the morning meeting but several of his more spirited students had been nattering on about it all day. He had no idea what subject he taught or what sort of man he was, all he knew was that most teenage girls in his class considered him sexy. Good first impression, he guessed.
So when he finally reached the staff room for the first time in the whole entirety of his seemingly never ending day, he had to pause slightly at the sight of a strange man there. And yes, he may have stared slightly as he tried to work out just whether he was the right one or not. Ah, definitely the new teacher. Not wanting to get dragged into painful small talk, he simply offered his best smile before staking out the seat furthest from the coffee machine.
-- Though, come to think of it, maybe he should introduce himself first before someone else did it for him. He could never trust what one of those prats would say. So, clearing his throat, he tried his best to look suddenly more interested than he was. "I'm assuming you're the new guy?"
With a quick shake of his head, Barty dragged himself out of the coffee trance and returned a vague smile to the other teacher. He was definitely not one for smalltalk himself, looking almost nervous for a moment as he brushed his hair back from his face. He definitely needed a haircut soon. "Yes. That'd be me."
He cleared his throat and reached for the cup of coffee, stalling as he took a sip first before attempting to be polite. It wasn't as if he couldn't do smalltalk, he was just really bad at it.
"Bartemius Crouch. Barty." He left out the junior, especially since remarks on how he had the same name as the politician were inevitable anyway. "Nice to meet you."
"I'm Harold Saxon, most call me Harry," he would have offered a hand but that seemed a little over formal for a situation like this. So, instead, he continued what he was doing to try and detract from putting any pressure on Barty. He was a nervous guy, that wasn't going to do him many favours here of all places. He learned pretty early on that he had to put his foot down hard and stand his ground in a place like this.
Or maybe that was just him? He did find life easier when everyone else knew their place.
"Bartemius Crouch, I'm sure I know that name," he remarked with a slight frown, giving Barty a curious look. Where did he -- oh, wait, now he had it. Though he very much doubted this guy was the politician who was arguing on newsnight the other day. "Nevermind, wrong person."
"I'll say." That did bring on a smirk for a moment, much as he hated the reminder. One had to get used to father issues if they were as pronounced as his were. Might as well be upfront about it, with some people. "My father. I'm disowned."
He finished his coffee and crossed the room to head for the sink. "You teach politics?" It wasn't actually a question. He remembered it, he'd read through the website once and his memory kind of had an issue with getting rid of information sometimes. "Seems like it would be interesting. Social experiment, at least."
With the kind of anarchy teenagers seemed to be prone to.
"Classy," Was all he offered to that, unsure what to say really. Disowning someone seemed a little extreme but he didn't know much about the circumstances so he didn't want to comment. He wasn't a fan of Crouch anyway, he tended to be a little too old fashioned for his liking, no proper charisma. How was a man like that ever going to run the country.
"Yeah, have done for a few years now. It's not a subject that attracts the attention of most young people so I make them interested," By threatening them with tests monthly and assigning homework regularly. They didn't have to like it, they just had to know it. That's all that mattered to him. "The more they know, the better they achieve. And the better I look. That's the essences of teaching, really."
Or it was to him. Enlightening and shaping young minds? Like that ever happened.
"The essence of teaching is making yourself look better?" To be honest, Barty was too amused by that philosophy to find it offensive. He wasn't sure how serious his new colleague was about any of this, but either way, it was definitely entertaining. "Here I always just heard that those that can't do teach, so if you want to look good, shouldn't you have chosen a different career?"
In response to the question, he shrugged with an slight smile. Well, may as well be honest about it. Harry taught for two reasons; money and the holidays. He didn't really care about young people or enlightening them. He chose this life decision for his own benefits, not theirs. "People say that because they're jealous of our holidays. People who say that have never tried to teach politics to a class of bored teenagers."
School was out, best time of the day, all the students were gone and the teachers were thinning out. Only a handful remained behind and they weren't like to wander about. Sitting on Barty's desk in his classroom, the Master sent ahead a rather simple text to bait him out of wherever he was hiding so he could come play while they had the free time.
Come to your class or I'll scribble on all your lesson plans.
No one could say he wasn't romantic. But hey, what wasn't romantic about a 'date' at a desk in a classroom. He didn't have flowers or presents but he had a key to lock the door for privacy. And a few ideas on just how they can get a bit better acquainted... and a half eaten packet of mints. Couldn't ask for more than that.
But despite that being the only answer he sent in reply, Barty was already on his way to his class. In his defense, he had some papers he meant to drop off there anyway, so he had an excuse for why he followed Harry's threat, order, whatever it had been. He had some pride, after all.
So he opened the door, raised an eyebrow in an 'are you for real?' kind of way at Harry and turned to put the papers he'd graded in the correct shelf. Seriously, what was he?
"You are aware that I'm not your dog? Just making sure, mind."
Harry just smirked proudly as he remained on the desk, proud that he could successfully lure Barty that quickly and effectively. Even if he didn't seem quite as amused as he would of liked. How else was he going to invite Barty to come play without some sort of threat. Being a normal adult? Boring.
"You're not? Well, colour me disappointed," Sliding off the desk, he leaned in Barty's personal space, looking quite obviously pleased with himself. He always did get a little glowing sensation of pride when people did what he wanted.
Part of him thought that was the only reason he became a teacher. To boss people around and exert a petty amount of authority.
"I do like leather." Sounded casual enough, so without any infliction that it was difficult to say if he was kidding. Either way, he turned around, now that he'd put his things away, just so he could put a hand on Harry's shoulder. Maybe to touch him, maybe to keep him at arm's length, literally. It was hard to tell.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're utterly unprofessional?" He might be the youngest teacher in school, but he did know that much. Not that he was entirely complaining, mind. Whatever he might be thinking about it all on the whole, he couldn't deny - at least not to himself - that it definitely excited him.
Barty wanted him, he was sure of that. But then, he was always very sure of himself, so whether that was just his own arrogance or whatever, he didn't know. But he was a optimist, he was sure that Barty had to. He just didn't want to openly admit it. Poor thing, did he actually think he had to be professional? Here, of all places?
"I've been teaching for years, I've earned a free pass to be unprofessional," he insisted, defiantly leaning in closer regardless of what the hand on his shoulder meant. Affection or distance, he wasn't sure, he didn't much care. He knew what he wanted and he'd try to get it. "We're technically on our own time now. We don't have to be professional."
But they could, however, make great use of that desk.
"Is that so?" Obviously it wasn't actually so, given that they were in school and that he hadn't exactly locked the door behind himself. On the other hand though, that really just made things more interesting. Despite that - well, really, because of that - he suddenly moved forward, just so he could shove Harry backwards. Perhaps showing that he really did want distance, but then he also just so happened to force him back against the desk and there probably wasn't strictly speaking any need for his hand to be against Harry's chest.
"But I've only just started to teach. Does that mean that I have to stay professional here?" Finally he smiled, smirked, even though it wasn't particularly wide. "Just curious."
Well, well, well, someone was suddenly brave. With a slight snort, he gripped his fingers into Barty's jacket and pulled him down closer, happily removing any space between them. If Barty was going to try and push him around, he was going to pull him about, like he was about to lie back and hand over his control. Did Barty not pay attention to his lectures on why he was a teacher? Authority, power and superiority. Petty, sure, but he had rather specific wants out of life.
"Only if you want to. But I have to say, it'd ruin the mood. And it's a rather nice mood I've set," Harry boasted as he leaned up and swiftly caught Barty's lower lip gently between his teeth, pulling him into a kiss in a rather playful manner.
"It's my classroom," Barty argued, because he really didn't feel that was exactly a great moodsetting environment. On the other hand though he didn't care enough to make this a real argument, not when he could instead lean in and kiss back, one hand going up to cup Harry's neck. He wasn't in the habit of submitting, so he didn't do it now either. Taking charge he could do, even if Harry seemed to be thinking him much more shy than he actually was.
So it's no wonder that he leans forward to make Harry lay back, because it was his desk and he ought to be able to decide what went down on top of it."
"Well I could of done this in mine but I thought I'd cut you some slack, give us an even playing field. A guy can't be nice any more," the sarcasm was pretty heavy in his tone as he slipped his hand onto his neck, idly playing with the few strands of hair that were within reach. He wasn't someone who was overly used to being under anyone's power or even anyone trying that, usually people just let him take the lead because he asserted himself faster than others.
Barty made quite the interesting rival. He liked that, he really did. He rarely got a challenge any more. Not that I care, of course. "I hope you cleared the desk before we started this or we're going to ruin everything."
"I always clear the desk before leaving." Had to keep things in order, after all. Barty stepped back to look his desk over anyway, although given that his next action was to pull Harry flush against himself and then, with a hand on his shoulder and the other on his arm, try to get him to turn around, that really might have been a trick more than anything.
"Don't think I can bend you over it backwards." Barty's smirk was very much there now, just as it was visible. "Men your age aren't usually that flexible anymore."
"Aren't you mister efficiency," Harry teased as he watched Barty with amusement. What was he trying to do now? Of course, that was soon answered when it became obvious that Barty was trying to flip him around? Seriously. Unable to help himself, he laughed slightly, unable to help himself. Two men, both unyielding, trying to fuck on a desk. And one of them had to give in for it to work. Most people have this rather dumb assumption that the fucker had more control than the fuckee but really, it didn't matter that much. What matter was how you played the role.
"Turning me away? Rude. Don't you want to gaze in my dreamy eyes?" With a challenging smirk, he stood his ground, resisting for the moment. "Calling me old then expecting me to turn over like that? You're meant to ask nicely. Did romance die while I was on lunch earlier or something?"
He held himself in place for a little before longer before finally, of his own violation, turning around. Staying flushed against Barty, he ground himself backwards, rubbing against Barty's crotch to try and steer some excitement. What? If he had to face forward, half on a desk, he was going to at least frustrate him a little. "Ask nicely, like I said. Convince me I should let you instead of you letting me."
"Gaze into your eyes? Not on the first date. Too intimate." Even as he talked he was undoing Harry's belt, not wasting any time. His hand worked deftly on opening his slacks while his left arm was slung around his chest, all the better to keep him close. "Let me do what exactly?"
Barty had already reached his objective, as became rather evident by how his hand started stroking, nicely timed to his hips moving, rubbing himself against Harry. "What are you offering?"
Harry wasn't an easy man to manipulate, even when he wanted something, he wouldn't give into it. He could fight it, if he had to, he was very capable of holding himself together and he'd had years of practice under this kind of pressure. Even as Barty's stroked and fondled, he kept himself as calm and collect as he could, moving back against Barty and easily following the rhythm.. "I'm offering whatever you can earn. You don't get anything in life for free, Barty. You can't just take like that. Ask me nicely or end up disappointed."
Grinning, he tilted his head backwards as far as he could, looking at Barty from the awkward angle he was at. Hell, he himself wanted it all but it just couldn't be that easy. He wouldn't let it be that easy. "Beg for it, let me know just what you want and how much you want it. Then you can have it. Sounds easy, doesn't it?"
"Very easy," Barty conceded, then he stayed silent for a while, focusing on what they were doing instead of what words to use. But he was thinking, of course he was, and the result was that he reached up until he could feel Harry's tie, slowly undoing the knot and pulling it free.
"Put your hands behind your back," he said, his tone pleasant, "Please." Worth a try, at least. He was definitely asking nicely, that much was for sure.
"What?" That definitely wasn't the reaction he'd wanted, which was kind of obvious from the confusion in his tone. This was definitely odd, he wasn't really used to people talking to him like this. He was a stubborn man and rather proud of that, actually. If he didn't want to do something, he wouldn't. Not unless he got something out of it.
"Why should I?" Harry asserted with a slight tilt of his head, hands kept in front. "You could put a little more effort in, you know? Tacking a please isn't asking nicely."
"As you wish," Barty said, setting down the tie and instead moving his hands, the one stopping the stroking to go to Harry's hip and the other at his shoulder. He tried to turn him around again, just as he had before, this time going to his knees as soon as it seemed to actually be working.
"Not quite that easy, hm?" He couldn't really stop the teasing now that he'd started, but he'd found that most found it pretty difficult to get annoyed once they were aroused and someone was on his knees in front of them.
"I'm never easy," Harry insisted childishly as he turned around, pulling off his jacket as he did so and letting it just fall to the ground with little regard. When he was finally back in a position he liked, he looked down and could barely resist the new sense of pride that struck him. Being persistent paid off them. "To be fair, you're a lot more insistent than I believed. Be a good boy and one day, I'll let you tie me up. Though probably best not here."
He didn't want to get caught and branded a pervert.
Reaching down, he ran his fingers through Barty's hair, ruffling it into disarray. Undoing his top button and zipper, he let his trousers hang loosely, eyes on Barty the whole time. "How much are you willing to give then?"
"A good boy, hm?" Barty looked away from Harry's face at his cock at that, because he wasn't actually sure what his eyes might show. He was smiling though, perhaps in spite of himself. Be that as it may, there definitely was no hesitation and if his hair being ruffled ruffled any feathers, he didn't show.
"You'll see." What he could see for now was Barty taking him into his mouth and what he could feel was that he either knew what he was doing or had some natural talent, significantly so.
"As much as you can manage to be, anyway," When it came to someone like Barty, he didn't expect miracles. When he'd first met him, he'd wrong assumed he was shyer than he was and perhaps a little bit of a push around. How wrong he'd been. And he'd very happily admit to that ignorance too.
Holding his breath as he was taken in, he gripped into Barty's hair for some sort of grounding. He didn't pull too hard, just enough to encourage him. He didn't want him to feel forced, though. He could pull back any time he wanted... though hopefully not too soon.
Barty didn't seem to mind that, not in the least. If anything it encouraged him, judging by his demonstration of how well he had his gag reflex under control. He pulled back eventually, his hand closing around the shaft while he sucked on the tip. Just a few more seconds and then he got up, flashing a brief smile and then wiping his mouth.
"I'm not easy, either." He turned, already starting for the door. "Or a good boy. Disowned, remember?"
Seriously? Oh, well, great. Just great. With an annoyed sigh, he grabbed his trousers and resisted the urge to throw something at the prick. Definitely not someone easy to get on with, that was obvious.
"Fuck! You're an utter bastard," he yelled after Barty, frustrated and less than pleased by this outcome. He was so tempted to jerk off on Barty's table and leave it uncleaned.
Lucky for Barty, Harry had too much dignity for that.
Barty just waved to the students calling out to him on their way of leaving the school. Mr C, he preferred it to his hated family name, which did earn them a smile, but that was about it. He had to save his charm for someone special, after all.
After heading through the door he stopped right by the office's counter, leaning against it and definitely turning a rather winsome smile on Lucy. Well, what could he say? She'd earned it, mostly by being undeniably attractive. A mutual opinion, luckily enough, as he had quickly gathered from signs of flusteredness and blushing around him.
What he asked her wasn't at all relevant, but it did mean she had an excuse to get up and lean against the counter on the other side, which gave him an opportunity to put a hand on her wrist and run his thumb over the back of her hand, never losing his casual tone as he kept asking her questions, even as they headed in more private territory.
Barty was an asshole. Why that was, Harry didn't quite know yet, all he knew was that he seemed to be a rather unstoppable one. First that whole annoying thing with the desk and now? He was hitting on Lucy. Now, he's not saying that he 'owned' Lucy exactly ... but he kind of did. She seemed to have an unstoppable crush on him and that admiration tended to make her a bit easier to manipulate. And besides, he liked her company to a degree. She was kind of fun.
Any other time, he might of missed Barty quizzing Lucy on her exceptionally bland weekend plans but today, he'd been raiding the lost and found cupboard for a missing phone a student had reported. And he could easily over hear everything.
Seriously, what an asshole.
Lucy fawned and preened, as to be expected, nattering on about some family gathering. She had told Harry the details earlier but he'd kind of phased out and stopped listening half way through. Couldn't of been that important.
"What about you, Barty? Anything you're up too?" she asked pleasantly while Harry made a point of noisily shoving stuff aside to remind her he existed back here.
If Barty had known that Harry was responsible for the noise in the back, he'd have probably enjoyed this even more. As it was, he liked it well enough anyway. She was easy to predict, but sometimes he didn't mind easy. After a week of teaching it was downright relaxing to deal with someone he could read so easily and who was legal. Very important difference.
"Not as such. I don't really have any family to gather." He offered a half-shrug, still playing with her hand because he could. "I was foolishly hoping you might have some time. I'm an optimist."
Even as he said it, Harry knew where this was going. He definitely didn't like Barty much, that was obvious. At first it seemed like fun, getting to know Barty and baiting him a little, he always liked new company. But that was definitely changing the more this progressed. As he listened to Lucy altering her weekend plans for Barty, he kind of wanted to go out there and smash things.
But he didn't want Barty to know how much he was pissing him off.
"You could always come with me? It's basically like a big party so it'll be fun. If you want to anyway?"
Maybe he could find a way to get this prick fired? Wouldn't be the first time he cost someone their job.
"I thought you might go with Harry." No, Barty didn't know Harry was literally listening in on them, he just had him on his mind anyway. After all, Lucy was attractive, but the fact that he knew Harry had some stake here definitely upped that. "But you should give him a kiss from me. Something like this."
And with that he did indeed kiss her, as everyone should be kissed at least once in their life.
With a loud annoyed groan, the Master emerged from the lost and found cupboard, phone in hand, giving them both a disapproving look. "Doing that at reception? How professional. I do hope no parents wonder in for advise."
He doesn't even touch the kiss thing, he doesn't want to get dragged into Barty's little game unless it's entirely on his say so. This? It was baiting. And he was better than that. Even if clearly Lucy wasn't. She was completely charmed.
Rolling his eyes, he moved away from the display and towards his class. May as well return the property before he plotted revenge.
"If they did, I could advise them on quite a few things." Barty winked at Lucy before turning and following Harry, hurrying for some strides until he had caught up and could walk next to him. "She's very sweet, isn't she?"
As far as he was concerned, they were definitely already playing.
Exhaling slowly, he reminded himself that picking a fight was always a bad idea. He wasn't much of a physical man, he was better at sneak tactics and manipulation. Regardless, he still had a desire to smack Barty in the face as hard as he could.
With a small amused laugh, he turned to Barty with a twinge of a smile. Not really a nice or friendly smile either. "You should really leave me alone. No, really. Your point was made now get lost. Go forth and be a dick elsewhere. Hell, fuck Lucy if you want, I'm sure she's game. Do anything but come near me."
Because he really didn't want to start anything. Wars were such effort.
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Still, the first few days had been going quite well so far, because apparently being young gave him enough of a cool bonus to be registered as funny rather than insulting with his remarks. Nevertheless sometimes he was glad for a quiet moment and actually finding the teacher's lounge empty during a free lesson was bliss, even before the machine finished his coffee. He watched the liquid drip into the cup, leaning back against the counter and absently drumming his fingers on it.
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So when he finally reached the staff room for the first time in the whole entirety of his seemingly never ending day, he had to pause slightly at the sight of a strange man there. And yes, he may have stared slightly as he tried to work out just whether he was the right one or not. Ah, definitely the new teacher. Not wanting to get dragged into painful small talk, he simply offered his best smile before staking out the seat furthest from the coffee machine.
-- Though, come to think of it, maybe he should introduce himself first before someone else did it for him. He could never trust what one of those prats would say. So, clearing his throat, he tried his best to look suddenly more interested than he was. "I'm assuming you're the new guy?"
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He cleared his throat and reached for the cup of coffee, stalling as he took a sip first before attempting to be polite. It wasn't as if he couldn't do smalltalk, he was just really bad at it.
"Bartemius Crouch. Barty." He left out the junior, especially since remarks on how he had the same name as the politician were inevitable anyway. "Nice to meet you."
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Or maybe that was just him? He did find life easier when everyone else knew their place.
"Bartemius Crouch, I'm sure I know that name," he remarked with a slight frown, giving Barty a curious look. Where did he -- oh, wait, now he had it. Though he very much doubted this guy was the politician who was arguing on newsnight the other day. "Nevermind, wrong person."
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He finished his coffee and crossed the room to head for the sink. "You teach politics?" It wasn't actually a question. He remembered it, he'd read through the website once and his memory kind of had an issue with getting rid of information sometimes. "Seems like it would be interesting. Social experiment, at least."
With the kind of anarchy teenagers seemed to be prone to.
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"Yeah, have done for a few years now. It's not a subject that attracts the attention of most young people so I make them interested," By threatening them with tests monthly and assigning homework regularly. They didn't have to like it, they just had to know it. That's all that mattered to him. "The more they know, the better they achieve. And the better I look. That's the essences of teaching, really."
Or it was to him. Enlightening and shaping young minds? Like that ever happened.
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Come to your class or I'll scribble on all your lesson plans.
No one could say he wasn't romantic. But hey, what wasn't romantic about a 'date' at a desk in a classroom. He didn't have flowers or presents but he had a key to lock the door for privacy. And a few ideas on just how they can get a bit better acquainted... and a half eaten packet of mints. Couldn't ask for more than that.
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But despite that being the only answer he sent in reply, Barty was already on his way to his class. In his defense, he had some papers he meant to drop off there anyway, so he had an excuse for why he followed Harry's threat, order, whatever it had been. He had some pride, after all.
So he opened the door, raised an eyebrow in an 'are you for real?' kind of way at Harry and turned to put the papers he'd graded in the correct shelf. Seriously, what was he?
"You are aware that I'm not your dog? Just making sure, mind."
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"You're not? Well, colour me disappointed," Sliding off the desk, he leaned in Barty's personal space, looking quite obviously pleased with himself. He always did get a little glowing sensation of pride when people did what he wanted.
Part of him thought that was the only reason he became a teacher. To boss people around and exert a petty amount of authority.
"I was going to get you a collar and everything."
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"Has anyone ever told you that you're utterly unprofessional?" He might be the youngest teacher in school, but he did know that much. Not that he was entirely complaining, mind. Whatever he might be thinking about it all on the whole, he couldn't deny - at least not to himself - that it definitely excited him.
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"I've been teaching for years, I've earned a free pass to be unprofessional," he insisted, defiantly leaning in closer regardless of what the hand on his shoulder meant. Affection or distance, he wasn't sure, he didn't much care. He knew what he wanted and he'd try to get it. "We're technically on our own time now. We don't have to be professional."
But they could, however, make great use of that desk.
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"But I've only just started to teach. Does that mean that I have to stay professional here?" Finally he smiled, smirked, even though it wasn't particularly wide. "Just curious."
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"Only if you want to. But I have to say, it'd ruin the mood. And it's a rather nice mood I've set," Harry boasted as he leaned up and swiftly caught Barty's lower lip gently between his teeth, pulling him into a kiss in a rather playful manner.
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So it's no wonder that he leans forward to make Harry lay back, because it was his desk and he ought to be able to decide what went down on top of it."
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Barty made quite the interesting rival. He liked that, he really did. He rarely got a challenge any more. Not that I care, of course. "I hope you cleared the desk before we started this or we're going to ruin everything."
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"Don't think I can bend you over it backwards." Barty's smirk was very much there now, just as it was visible. "Men your age aren't usually that flexible anymore."
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"Turning me away? Rude. Don't you want to gaze in my dreamy eyes?" With a challenging smirk, he stood his ground, resisting for the moment. "Calling me old then expecting me to turn over like that? You're meant to ask nicely. Did romance die while I was on lunch earlier or something?"
He held himself in place for a little before longer before finally, of his own violation, turning around. Staying flushed against Barty, he ground himself backwards, rubbing against Barty's crotch to try and steer some excitement. What? If he had to face forward, half on a desk, he was going to at least frustrate him a little. "Ask nicely, like I said. Convince me I should let you instead of you letting me."
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Barty had already reached his objective, as became rather evident by how his hand started stroking, nicely timed to his hips moving, rubbing himself against Harry. "What are you offering?"
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Grinning, he tilted his head backwards as far as he could, looking at Barty from the awkward angle he was at. Hell, he himself wanted it all but it just couldn't be that easy. He wouldn't let it be that easy. "Beg for it, let me know just what you want and how much you want it. Then you can have it. Sounds easy, doesn't it?"
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"Put your hands behind your back," he said, his tone pleasant, "Please." Worth a try, at least. He was definitely asking nicely, that much was for sure.
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"Why should I?" Harry asserted with a slight tilt of his head, hands kept in front. "You could put a little more effort in, you know? Tacking a please isn't asking nicely."
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"Not quite that easy, hm?" He couldn't really stop the teasing now that he'd started, but he'd found that most found it pretty difficult to get annoyed once they were aroused and someone was on his knees in front of them.
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He didn't want to get caught and branded a pervert.
Reaching down, he ran his fingers through Barty's hair, ruffling it into disarray. Undoing his top button and zipper, he let his trousers hang loosely, eyes on Barty the whole time. "How much are you willing to give then?"
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"You'll see." What he could see for now was Barty taking him into his mouth and what he could feel was that he either knew what he was doing or had some natural talent, significantly so.
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Holding his breath as he was taken in, he gripped into Barty's hair for some sort of grounding. He didn't pull too hard, just enough to encourage him. He didn't want him to feel forced, though. He could pull back any time he wanted... though hopefully not too soon.
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"I'm not easy, either." He turned, already starting for the door. "Or a good boy. Disowned, remember?"
And just like that he left.
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What?
Seriously? Oh, well, great. Just great. With an annoyed sigh, he grabbed his trousers and resisted the urge to throw something at the prick. Definitely not someone easy to get on with, that was obvious.
"Fuck! You're an utter bastard," he yelled after Barty, frustrated and less than pleased by this outcome. He was so tempted to jerk off on Barty's table and leave it uncleaned.
Lucky for Barty, Harry had too much dignity for that.
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"Have a nice weekend!"
"See you on Monday!"
Barty just waved to the students calling out to him on their way of leaving the school. Mr C, he preferred it to his hated family name, which did earn them a smile, but that was about it. He had to save his charm for someone special, after all.
After heading through the door he stopped right by the office's counter, leaning against it and definitely turning a rather winsome smile on Lucy. Well, what could he say? She'd earned it, mostly by being undeniably attractive. A mutual opinion, luckily enough, as he had quickly gathered from signs of flusteredness and blushing around him.
What he asked her wasn't at all relevant, but it did mean she had an excuse to get up and lean against the counter on the other side, which gave him an opportunity to put a hand on her wrist and run his thumb over the back of her hand, never losing his casual tone as he kept asking her questions, even as they headed in more private territory.
"So just what are your plans for the weekend?"
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Any other time, he might of missed Barty quizzing Lucy on her exceptionally bland weekend plans but today, he'd been raiding the lost and found cupboard for a missing phone a student had reported. And he could easily over hear everything.
Seriously, what an asshole.
Lucy fawned and preened, as to be expected, nattering on about some family gathering. She had told Harry the details earlier but he'd kind of phased out and stopped listening half way through. Couldn't of been that important.
"What about you, Barty? Anything you're up too?" she asked pleasantly while Harry made a point of noisily shoving stuff aside to remind her he existed back here.
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"Not as such. I don't really have any family to gather." He offered a half-shrug, still playing with her hand because he could. "I was foolishly hoping you might have some time. I'm an optimist."
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But he didn't want Barty to know how much he was pissing him off.
"You could always come with me? It's basically like a big party so it'll be fun. If you want to anyway?"
Maybe he could find a way to get this prick fired? Wouldn't be the first time he cost someone their job.
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And with that he did indeed kiss her, as everyone should be kissed at least once in their life.
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With a loud annoyed groan, the Master emerged from the lost and found cupboard, phone in hand, giving them both a disapproving look. "Doing that at reception? How professional. I do hope no parents wonder in for advise."
He doesn't even touch the kiss thing, he doesn't want to get dragged into Barty's little game unless it's entirely on his say so. This? It was baiting. And he was better than that. Even if clearly Lucy wasn't. She was completely charmed.
Rolling his eyes, he moved away from the display and towards his class. May as well return the property before he plotted revenge.
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As far as he was concerned, they were definitely already playing.
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With a small amused laugh, he turned to Barty with a twinge of a smile. Not really a nice or friendly smile either. "You should really leave me alone. No, really. Your point was made now get lost. Go forth and be a dick elsewhere. Hell, fuck Lucy if you want, I'm sure she's game. Do anything but come near me."
Because he really didn't want to start anything. Wars were such effort.