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It happens during one of their Occlumency training lessons.
One second they're shoving and pushing at each other mentally, trying to keep the other out of their own head while simultanaeously trying to break down the other's defences.
The next they're pushing and shoving each other physically, and before they know it, Severus is all up in Harry's personal space and Harry in return crowds Severus up against the wall.
They're way too close to each other, breathing in each other's air, feeling each other's heaving breath on their skin.
The whole room's quiet now, except for the white noise, blood rushing in their ears, the last of their thinly-veilt insults died on their lips.
There's way too much adrenaline rushing through both their bodies and the next thing they know is they're kissing each other desperately, clawing at each other's clothes for leverage.
They're way too close to each other, already, so it doesn't matter who crosses the line, whose body bumps into whose first, until they're way past just kissing, but eventually Harry's knee ends up between Severus' thighs and one almost-accidental brush of clothing leads to another fluid, smooth movement, and the next thing they know they're moving against each other, rubbing their bodies together almost desperately, like broken puzzle pieces trying to make a whole.
Harry's never done anything like this before, with no one. Not with Ginny, not with Cho, not with any of the boys he's ever had a crush on. He's barely ever even touched himself, never quite found the privacy, nor the leisure to do so.
But right here and now, in the twilight privacy of Severus' office, he didn't even have to think about it, didn't even have to make a decision.
One thing lead to another, things simply happened here.
Like the room of requirements, except you didn't even know what you were wishing for before you stepped inside.
One second they were fighting, with words and wands and minds, the next second all that's forgotten in the angry, hungry heat of the moment, physical proximity, electricity, skin on skin.
Harry bucks his hips up against Severus thigh one last time almost involuntarily, and then it's over. His own orgasm hits him by surprise, his mind and vocal chords barely have time to catch up, so the only sound that falls from his lips is a surprised, half-choked off cry, but he knows, internally, he's screaming, howling almost, knows his mental defenses are down and Severus' are down, too, knows he can hear him in his own mind. Pleasure washes over him, takes away his senses until there's nothing but WHITE-HOT.
When he comes to again, he's breathing heavily, bracing himself against Severus' broad chest. There's a wet, cold patch between his legs and something big and hard, radiating warmth, pressing, almost straining against his side.
It hits him almost instantly, and the blood leaving his softening prick shoots up to his face, making him blush furiously.
He just came in his pants like the horny teenager he very much is, from nothing more than rutting against someone for a few minutes like a bitch in heat. And that someone isn't only his most hated teacher of all people, but also very much still hard. Like an adult with self-control.
"I'm sorry," Harry mumbles, embarrassed, tries to take a step back to bring a more appropriate distance between them and stumbles.
Severus steadies him with one big, strong hand on his hip. He clears his throat. Reaches down as subtly as possible to adjust himself in his pants. "Lesson's over, Potter. See you in class tomorrow."
"Yes, sir," he murmurs, and hurries out of the room, not knowing which was more mortifying: leaving Severus like this, hard and wanting, or having to face him again tomorrow, cold and dissmissive.