"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.
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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.