For zelda_zee, on the occasion of her birthday
(and anyone else who for some reason wants to read Marauders-era HP smut, Sirius/half the school)
This is sort of stream of consciousness writing, in that it's not been edited much, just rambled out in spare moments over the last couple of days. So if it's wonky, that's why. I always hate to fret over PWP, and besides, I got the idea late but I still wanted to get it done on time.
Title: Five Places Sirius Black Probably Shouldn't Have Been Having Sex During His Seventh Year, Not That That Stopped Him
Pairings: Sirius/Lily (not really, though), Sirius/James, Sirius/Remus, Sirius/Lucius (in a manner of speaking), Sirius/Severus
Rating: NC-17
Summary: see title. Ye gods!-7000 words.
Note: This is not really a coherent fic at all, just a collection of smutlets, with one that got away from me (the Sirius/Severus makes up nearly half the word count). I made a concerted effort not to be cute, although I can't promise completely brainless PWP. What I can promise is gratuitous fucking. :)
Five Places Sirius Black Probably Shouldn't Have Been Having Sex During His Seventh Year
(Not That That Stopped Him)
She wasn't what he wanted, but since he couldn't rightly say what that was, and since he was drunk off his ass and almost unmanageably horny, he let her drag him off to the back room anyway. Besides, she smelled really nice and felt really nice and she wasn't Lily Evans.
Or maybe it was that he could pretend she was if he wanted to, if he closed his eyes. He wasn't sure; he closed his eyes anyway. He was sure about the fact that this girl wasn't wearing knickers under her skirt and she moaned in his ear that she'd wanted him for so long just before she sank down over his cock. But he wasn't at all sure that he would escape the Three Broomsticks that night without having thoroughly broken an old chair, just with their body weight alone.
Of course, the one he'd been sitting in before hadn't broken, and Lily was a little heavier than this girl.
Lily had been drunk, rambling about this continuing conflict in her brain over James, whether she should just go for it or not. While Sirius and Lily weren't exactly close, and while she normally only fluttered around the edges of his life just as she did James's, there were occasional times when she actually sought him out. Never mind that he was ten times the obnoxious, insensitive bloke James was, she sometimes found it necessary to talk to him about the problem, as if he should have any opinions on the matter other than wanting to get James laid so he'd quit being such a mopey little shit.
He did, as a matter of fact, have other opinions. One was that James didn't need the aggravation of such a stuck-up girl. The other was that Lily was indeed too good for James, and it would never work. That meant that she was way too good for the likes of Sirius, but that didn't stop him from slowly but surely finding himself really, really enamored of her. It did, however, stop him from letting her throw herself at him in a fit of drunken misery.
No, hell, that wouldn't have stopped him. It was only his friendship with James that could do that.
So he was her sometimes-friend, but mostly when she wanted to get out of her own skin for a while. He liked her best that way, except for how it made a mess of his libido and his brain. When she would come to him and ask him to sneak off to Hogsmeade, because she needed to get away for a while, he couldn't refuse her. Her otherwise clear eyes took on this twinkle. It turned out that when she got a little alcohol in her, she loosened up a little. It was not unlike dealing with Remus, actually, when he decided he needed to let off a little steam. But Remus didn't have fantastic tits. Remus also didn't wear short skirts and casually rub his thighs against his as he sat down or scrape his fingernails over the back of his neck. Remus especially didn't plant himself in his lap and look a little too long into his eyes while he talked about James Potter.
He couldn't keep looking at her face or he'd kiss her, and he couldn't look down because there they were, the best pair of tits in the whole fucking school, heaving up against his chest as a giggle escaped her lips. So he coughed and eased her off his lap, mumbling something about the bathroom, and he wasn't altogether certain she hadn't felt him getting hard. Hopefully, if she'd felt it, she wouldn't remember later.
He also hoped she wouldn't wander off to find where he'd gone to. She'd ended up among a handful of other wayward Hogwarts students, mostly Hufflepuffs, one guy in particular he knew she fancied, but not as much as James. Never as much as James, no matter how she put him off and fretted about being attracted to such a rogue.
He wondered what she'd think about herself if she bothered to realize how much she was attracted to an even bigger rogue than James, at least when her inhibitions were down. Sirius knew he thought a lot about such a quandary himself, but in the reverse-why had he developed a sudden and raging crush on an unavailable girl who looked so collected and calm and serious all the time? That was the lily that intrigued him, he thought. Even if he got along with her better when she was like this, he wanted the studious, restrained version of the girl, the kind who would probably never climb into his lap and ride him like this sixth year Ravenclaw was.
She bounced over him, breasts heaving, and he finally buried his face against them, biting and sucking through the fabric of her shirt as she shivered and sunk down onto him again and again, so wet and tight. Every thrust brought a sigh to her lips, and soon he found himself grunting, thrusting up against her, his hands snapping her hips into a rhythm. Then, to his surprise, he heard her breath change, and she moaned, maybe a little too loudly, right there, so he kept doing what he'd been doing, suddenly amazed to feel her throbbing and squeezing around him.
She was bent forward and kissing him on the neck when he came. Lily Evans was laughing loudly in the next room when the girl stood up, letting him slip out of her.
She seemed to know exactly where things stood, which he was silently grateful for. Hell, she probably knew his heart was in several pieces in several different places, anywhere but with her. So she kissed him on the cheek and gathered up her things and slipped back out into the main room.
He pushed the chair back against the wall, but he felt the sudden urge to drop back down into it, to try and breathe before he rejoined the revelry beyond the door.
*****
James Potter, Merlin bless him, liked to give head. He liked it so much he would sometimes do it with no hope of immediate release and reciprocity. In exchange for such services, though, a person was expected to be a very willing partner whenever James took a fancy to things besides sucking cock, like shagging the life out of you. Everything about the occasional casual sex between them was about when James took a fancy to it, but that was just fine with Sirius; whenever he decided he was bound and determined to suck Sirius's cock, Sirius put up no fuss.
Except that one time in the library.
"Prongs," he hissed, feeling James's hand trailing up and down his leg. Sometimes he liked to tease, which was annoying, but Sirius knew this particular look in his eyes well, so he knew the touching that was going on under the table was only a prelude to something that he generally didn't think about doing ensconced in the back corner of the library, with the smell of musty old books in his nostrils.
Keeping one eye on the end of the stacks, James licked over the shell of his ear and said, "Don't you want it, Padfoot?"
"Not here. Are you mad?"
"You mean, you wouldn't like to have me pull you out right here, right now. I could make you come so hard. You know I can. I could slip right here under the table and swallow you down until you didn't even care that you're in the library studying History."
Fuck, but he did love it when James talked dirty. James knew that, the sneaky bastard.
"James," he mumbled. "Bloody hell, what's gotten into you?"
James's hand was suddenly on the button on his trousers, and while he watched the door, James unzipped them and thrust his hand inside. Sirius had been hard already, but now he was rock hard, feeling James's thumb swipe over the head.
"Want me to stop?" James murmured.
"No. Yes. No. Merlin, this is crazy," he gasped. "Like, crazier than normal."
He could hear the other students, just on the other side of the book stacks. He thought he could hear the clacking of the librarian's heels, even if they hadn't seen her in their corner in half an hour. Maybe it was about time she showed up. Maybe someone would want a book on obscure medieval sorcery.
Maybe if James didn't fucking stop he would come all over himself and the floor, right now.
James leaned over and whispered to him again. "Love you like this, Padfoot. All squirmy and desperate. Makes me so hot."
"James." His voice was pinched up, nearly a squeak.
"Can't stop thinking about the way you taste. Want me to taste you? Want my tongue licking every inch of you? Want all that wet heat all around you, sucking and-"
"Fuck," Sirius whispered with a sharp exhalation. "Just do it. Now. Before we get caught."
James smiled wickedly as he slid under the table and Sirius thought he could breathe again. No one would have to know what was going on.
Of course, they'd know quite well if they saw his face as James took him in, finally, no pretense of doing anything but making him come, and fast. Sirius knew exactly how James would look, those eyes of his blazing as he looked up at him, but not being able to see it all made him crazy in bad ways and good. This was a different sort of blow job than normal, more like the way it was when they occasionally took a chance on something semi-public. Of course, Sirius had thought an empty classroom was semi-public enough for his taste. This was something way beyond what they'd done before. But his body seemed to like it, because it only took a couple of minutes of James pulling his lips along Sirius's cock, pressing into the head with his tongue, before Sirius's hips were coming up off the chair and he was coming in a long stream into James's mouth, feeling him swallow over and over.
When James came back up to his chair, his hair was mussed, his lips were red and wet, and he was sporting a serious hard-on. It was ridiculously hot.
Sirius leaned over and said, "Do you suppose you can be as quiet as I was?"
He slid under the table without even looking at him, chuckling to hear James already unfastening his pants.
***** [upon re-reading this section, I realized I neglected to account for lube; let's just pretend one of those handy wizarding sex spells was cast, shall we?]
It didn't bother him too much that Remus only wanted to fuck him when the moon was coming on. If he'd thought the man didn't actually want him unless he was very nearly gone over, he wouldn't have allowed it to keep going on. Something told him he shouldn't allow it anyway, because if Moony did want him all the time but would only let himself take what he wanted when he couldn't help himself…
Things had always been complicated between them, a mixture of complete trust and a good dose of fear at an emotion that constant and strong, laced through with daily reminders of how fucking different they were. Why should this sex thing be anything other than just as complicated and weird?
Because it wasn't just sex, or at least it wasn't like the way he and James sometimes casually fucked around. With James, there was something playful and friendly about it, one coaxing the other into it. Remus, on the other hand, had a way of simply looking at him that made him hard, never mind what he could do to Sirius's self-control when he actually got his hands on him.
Remus usually sat behind him in class, subtly nudging his chair or James's with his feet when they went above and beyond amusing and into obnoxious or distracting. Remus was one of his three best friends, but touchy-feely he was not. However, when his transformation into the wolf was getting closer, he would become a much more…sensual person. It was in the way he moved and spoke, but it came out the most in how he was always in Sirius's personal space. He nearly always sat right beside him in class for those couple of days.
Remus could be alluring enough anytime, in his own quiet, intense way, but when all that energy of his began to bubble to the surface before the change, it was damn distracting, especially so in the stillness of the Potions classroom. Remus would get a little fidgety, and not in the normal, high-strung sort of way he could be when someone set him on edge. He stayed permanently on edge, but he radiated something rather more powerful than anxious. Sirius didn't know what it was, only that he was as unnerved by it as he was fascinated.
Remus normally kept things to a low boil for a while before he finally gave up and gave in. He didn't make overt gestures until he was damn near ready to explode. That is why when he leaned over in class and whispered in Sirius's ear, he had his undivided attention.
Remus's voice was rough when he said, "Follow me in two minutes."
Sirius gave him a sharp look only to feel Remus's fingers creep along the inside of his forearm as they pulled his hand subtly but not really so subtly into his lap. There was no mistaking what he felt under Remus's robes, and he had to resist the urge to follow every movement of his body as he slid out of the seat and weaved through the desks and out of the room without looking back.
After an interminable two minutes, where Sirius shifted in his seat, achingly hard and so impatient, definitely too impatient to listen to Slughorn rattle on, he excused himself, too. When he came out into the hallway, Remus grabbed him by the arm and pulled him around the corner. Sirius was so fucking ready that he didn't pay attention to anything but the back of Remus's neck, how he was going to bite and suck at it while he drove into him. There were very few things in life more rewarding-or more fucking hot-that making Remus Lupin come apart at the seams.
But when they ducked into the room and Remus pulled the door shut, shoving him back against it, Sirius realized two things: one, he was in no way shape or form going to be doing the fucking; and two, his mild-mannered friend was a hell of a lot kinkier than he'd ever thought.
He opened his mouth to exclaim something about toilets and some people still use this one, don't they? and sodding hell, Moony, do you really need that weepy ghost watching us going at it?, but Remus clamped his hand over his mouth and just glared at him-not mean, simply seriously-and pressed him into the door hard with his hips, grinding.
Once Sirius nodded that he would be quiet, Remus took his hand away and put his mouth to his ear, whispering so quietly: "Don't make a sound. I just… I couldn't wait another second."
Sirius was already unfastening his pants, turning and bracing himself against the door, because when Moony got like this, it was best to just let him have his way. Better than best, actually. Just hearing him mutter the necessary charms was enough to make Sirius want to rub himself against the door.
Remus stretched him so fast, probing with fingers in a way that would likely make him sore later, as unused to being on the receiving end as he was, but it would be entirely worth it. Finally, he heard Remus's pants fall, and he braced himself to feel the wet, warm head of his cock sliding down his crack, pressing at his asshole for a brief second before it slid halfway, and then, with a thrust, all the way inside.
Sirius let out a gasp, and Remus's grip tightened on his hip, pinching hard enough to bruise. Then, as though he were either trying to reinforce his point about being quiet or completely shoot the idea all to hell, he pulled out and thrust back in again, quick and hard. Sirius clamped his jaw shut and put every bit of reaction he had into the way his hips went back to meet Remus's cock.
There was no way Myrtle wouldn't be able to hear it, the slick sound of it, the slap of bodies and Sirius's forehead once or twice banging into the door. Sirius had never stopped to really listen to sex before, not this way, and while it sounded a lot like a sport to him, maybe a game of Quidditch, it was also incredibly arousing to hear the way Remus exhaled breaths as he pounded into him in a regular rhythm, going deep and holding there, grinding in, before he pulled back out again.
It was too much, the way he was this close to nailing that fantastically sensitive spot inside him with each prolonged thrust. Sirius closed his hand over Remus's on his hip and brought it to his cock. He let his hips do the work keeping Remus inside him, bearing all his weight as Remus leaned them both forward a little and wanked him in earnest until he shuddered and came in a stream against the door. Then Remus fucked him fast and hard, and he came soon after, with his hands still around Sirius's waist, one fist around his cock.
For a second after he pulled out, he squeezed up tight against him and spoke in his ear again, a breathless whisper: "You are so fucking hot. You know that? I can't even fucking concentrate when I'm around you sometimes." Sirius just gave a shaky laugh as Remus flattened his tongue against the side of his neck.
"Don't see how you concentrate on Potions anyway, mate," he replied, and he could feel Remus exhale a breath against his neck before he straightened up and they both began to put their clothes right. Then he took a chance: "Maybe we should skip Magical Creatures altogether, hmm?"
As they finally heard it-Moaning Myrtle's whining cry whooshing from the other side of the cavernous room-Remus pushed open the door.
"Absolutely," he said with a nod and a mischievous smile. "The prefect's bath is so easily charmed into locking."
*****
It wasn't that he didn't like Quidditch. He did. And it wasn't that it wasn't an exciting game. It was Gryffindor versus Slytherin, after all, and he had more than a little money and more than a few favors staked on the outcome of the match. But when one sees the best- and most dominant-looking bloke in this history of this or any other world skirting the edge of the Quidditch pitch and ascending the stands, one finds the actual Quidditch part of the scenario a little difficult to pay a damn bit of attention to.
The man was a Slytherin alum, and the epitome of that sort, too-condescending, hard, cold, and completely in control. All this Sirius could discern just from watching him and from the snatched of conversation he'd heard. The man was twenty, maybe twenty two years old, but he carried himself like he was much older…except not quite, because though he had enough power that it seemed to light him up from inside, even apart from that long flowing platinum blonde hair Sirius desperately wanted to get his hands in, he wasn't stuffy or rigid about the way he used his body. His walk was very nearly a strut, but not exactly. He didn't need to strut. He was so sure he was God's gift that he didn't have to prove it by overcompensating. Sirius had been known to walk that way himself, although it was almost always a posture for him. He was damn good at putting on such airs and making them seem real, but he was also just as likely to be natural in his behavior. Though that friendly charm of his often did just as well charming people for all its lack of finesse, the sudden presence of this man, stoically watching the Quidditch match from the stands just meters away from his own, made him desperately want that sort of natural smoothness for himself. He wanted to be able to impress a man like that.
Instead-because, really, there was no way in hell he was making eyes at that magnificent block of stone and even less chance any flirtation from a kid still in school would make any difference in the world to him-he simply sat and watched him until his cock got too hard to endure and he was, as always, thankful for robes as he worked his way through the crowd and out of the stands.
No one saw him go down under the stands, but if they had, they wouldn't have been able to find him if they went looking. He worked himself back into a lovely little corner he'd found in third year and had used more times than he could count to hide from the world-from friends and from teachers, occasionally from girls. It was a good place to be, especially when he really, really needed a refuge. Of course, he'd never gone there with the express purpose of frantically pulling himself off before.
Well, he thought as he pushed down the waistband of his pants and drew himself out, I've never been in the habit of wanking over Slytherins, either. First time for everything.
His cock was already a little slick, just from thinking about him, sitting there watching his lips as they curled around words, his eyes as they took in the game. He imagined himself striding over and saying dirty things to him, right in front of the whole Slytherin lot of them, just to see if he could make his eyes cloud up with lust. He'd do anything he needed to get the guy just as hard and needing it as he was, whether he had to straddle him and fuck him with his tongue or simply offer the blow job he was dying to give him. He would find his head pushed down, between those long long legs, where he would push up his robes and take his cock out and down his throat and make him beg for it. Fuck would he love to hear that voice, those cold tones he'd only heard a few times but that felt burned into his brain; he'd love to hear it commanding him but he'd love even more to hear it turn to a whine as he ordered him to suck him harder even if it sounded like please, because, yes, Merlin, please, fuck, his hands would tug at his hair and he would shove himself through his lips and he could almost taste him now, salty on his quick, nasty tongue, hear him groan as he came, shoving that big long gorgeous cock down his throat, muscles trembling with how fucking good Sirius had made him feel, how much power he had over him.
Sirius's head fell against the wooden support pillar as he bit back a moan of his own and-so close, right there, twist and harder, harder, yes, there!-he came in a stream over his hands and onto the ground. He came so hard it almost hurt, but it was such a fucking relief.
As he cast cleaning charms on himself, he wondered if maybe he should forgo returning to the stands, where he would have to be that close to the man again.
He went back up anyway.
*****
Severus Snape was a creature of habit. He found that both amusing and comforting, in an odd way. Even with the vast majority of students gone home for the holidays, he kept to a schedule, and since it was one Sirius had bothered to learn (okay, had begun to learn unconsciously, although it sounded better if he could make these ridiculous urges seem intentional), he knew precisely where he would be after dinner.
There were more Gryffindors than usual staying around for the break between terms, at least a dozen, as well as nearly that many Ravenclaws. There were only a handful of Hufflepuffs, but the Syltherins were the most poorly represented in the cavernous and mostly empty great hall at dinner: just Snape and a couple of skinny, giggly third year girls. In the interest of building a sense of community in the quiet castle, the students all sat at the same table during holidays, for a time dispensing with house rivalries, where any actually existed. All in all, those left behind this time were an amiable lot, except for Snape, who sat hunched over his plate and didn't even look at anyone much less speak.
He did, however, sit across from Sirius, despite several other more likely places he might've hidden himself. Sirius wanted to be encouraged by that, but he wasn't sure if it was more or less passive aggressive than the way the guy had been staring at him through every class they shared all term, which amounted to a good deal of his time spent looking at Sirius and not at his books. It was only when Sirius began to stare back that Snape stopped.
At first, it had been a nice game-make Snivellus nervous, let him know he was on to him and his little crush. I was a private game, too, something he hadn't seen fit (no, he'd consciously chosen not to) share with the other boys. But there was something about that face, the combination of pale skin and dark eyes, formidable nose and thin, rosy lips, that kept drawing him back, over and over. He was the best sort of puzzle, because once Sirius started really paying attention to him, even after he learned his habits and memorized every scowl had made as well as every subdued smile, he found that he still couldn't quite make sense of what to do with such a person. He was, however, sure that there was something to be done.
Sirius would like to say he had left off antagonizing Snape first, but he hadn't. In fact, his pestering intensified, at least in intensity, although it was now more about getting a reaction and gathering information than it was pissing him off. He had eventually given that up when he found that it no longer seemed to bother Snape; he simply shrugged it off, sometimes with a smile. James and Peter found this turn infuriating. Sirius found it…confusing, especially his reaction to it.
It wasn't possible Severus Snape was actually worth pursuing, was it? And it certainly wasn't possible he actually wanted to be pursued?
Snape ate slowly; the two yammering Slytherin tarts did not. He'd done a good deal of watching them, too, for lack of better occupation, and he knew they ate very little and then skipped back to the Slytherin common room to scoop up their brooms for an afternoon of flying. They were also the world's most harebrained girls-just how they were Slytherins he had no idea-because they didn't exactly bother about things like closing doors. He'd actually found that out when he got up the nerve two days before to have it out with Snape after a long afternoon of epic staring-and-looking-away on both their parts, only to lose his nerve long about the steps to the dungeon. But not before he heard Snape coming up the corridor, muttering about batty girls without the sense to keep their common room shut up. Apparently, it took a lot to gain entrance to the Slytherin enclave, but there was no mechanism to protect against carelessness.
Which was either ridiculous or entirely fitting, considering how blithely that lot treated the rules sometimes. Sirius often wondered if he really shouldn't have been sorted into Slytherin, especially as he waited for the silly girls to finally leave the hallway so he could slipped into the Syltherin common room. He expected to find a protective charm casting him out again, but there wasn't one. Probably, he thought, they would be set up to work against the Muggle-born. If his parents had taught him nothing else, it was that he was pureblood wizard.
He wondered if Snape was pureblood. He had a strange feeling he wasn't. Snape was a whole lovely mixture of things, and as Sirius settled himself on an overstuffed chair by the fire, it really hit him exactly where he was and just how crazy this was and precisely how badly he must've wanted to learn more about all the parts of that mixture of moods and attitudes that was Severus Snape-apparently even the depths of his paranoia.
As soon as Snape came into the room and found him sitting there, he pulled out his wand and pointed it at him.
"Out," he said. Not How did you get in?, but Out.
Sirius held up his wandless hands. "No."
"What the bloody hell are you doing down here?" he hissed, wand still clutched in his hand, even if he lowered it.
"Comparing common rooms. Yours is nicer, by the way."
He glared at him a moment longer, testing the waters, then he sighed and made a show of trying to be just as nonchalant as Sirius was, dropping his satchel on the ground beside the couch and perching on the arm of it, his back to the fire. "So you've finally gotten bored enough to antagonize me? What a surprise."
"If I was going to antagonize you, I'd've done it at supper. I came here to talk."
He braced himself for another snappish comment, but instead Snape just raised an eyebrow, then he crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh?"
All at once, his heartbeat pounded up into his ears, and his palms came over all sweaty. Bloody hell, he thought, this is just Snivellus…who was staring at him, rather unabashedly now, for all his lingering bewilderment at the situation.
So Sirius just stared back, long and hard, in a way he hadn't been able to in class, in front of everyone else, until Snape's face went pink and he bowed his head.
"Oh, I see," Sirius said. "It's perfectly all right for you to sit across the room from me in Dark Arts and try to burn holes clean through my skull with your eyes, but when it's turnabouts, you get stupid and sheepish."
"Not sheepish," he snapped, head coming up. "It's just that I know what you're playing at, Black, and I'm not stupid enough to fall for it."
"Oh, but aren't you? It's too late, you know," he replied, voice coming smooth and low now, slower. "Can't hide it. It’s plain as day, just from the way you look at me. Everybody knows."
His voice was choked: "Everybody?"
Sirius smiled. He couldn't help it, just like he couldn't help coming down here just to get the man to fucking talk to him. "No," he said quietly. "Nobody but me."
For a moment, he thought he'd gotten in, penetrated those large dark eyes, but then Snape suddenly fluttered up off the arm of the couch and went to stand with his back to him, by the fire.
"Get out," he muttered.
"No."
"I could get you in so much trouble for being down here."
"But you won't, because you want me here."
"So what," he mumbled. Turning, he repeated, "So what!" He took a deep breath, trying to rein it in again. "If you're done having your fun, I wish you would just go."
"This," Sirius said with a sarcastic chuckle, "is not fun. You are so rarely fun, at least when we're up there, doing what we do best. That's not why I came."
He could see his profile, how Snape's eye narrowed and a cautious smile played over his face. "And what is it we do best, Black?"
He would have sworn Snape was trying to be seductive, except he wasn't, just sure of himself, needling in the same way Sirius always needled him. It worked anyway. He instantly knew that was part of why he was down here-Snape had a way of disarming him even when he wasn't particularly trying.
Sirius said, "Well, apparently we've become excellent starers. Why do you watch me so much?"
He didn't deny it. He simply said, "I don't understand you."
"I realize that."
"No. I mean, that's why I stare."
"So it has nothing to do with you wanting me?" Snape didn't reply, didn't even look at him, in fact, despite the waves of tension emanating from him, so Sirius added, "It's why I'm always looking at you, I think."
Snape's face turned toward his and his eyes went wide. He turned away again, back to the fire, fists clenched at his sides. "You think?"
"Well, how in the hell am I supposed to know when you don't speak two words strung together to me, not unless I'm picking on you. Which, by the way, why do you let me pick on you like that?"
Snape's head bobbed with a laugh. "You don't have any idea how you are, do you?"
"How am I?"
"Like- like a force of nature or something. There's no preventing you from doing anything you want to do once you set your mind to it. Case in point, your standing here in the Slytherin common room."
Sirius waited for him to keep speaking, but he didn't, and Sirius could think of nothing else to say. Maybe he hadn't come to talk anyway.
Gathering all the resolve he had, he rose from the chair and crossed the room. Snape had to have heard him come up behind him, but he didn't stop him, even if he stiffened in shock as Sirius's arms slid around his waist and his hands crossed over his stomach.
"Black," he said warningly.
"Tell me to get the hell out, if you really want me gone. Speak now or forever hold your peace…Severus."
Snape didn't say a word, so Sirius let his body come up flush with his. His felt so normal, smelled normal, too. Good, real; human.
But he was not the world's easiest human to deal with. He still held himself somewhat rigid, even as Sirius's breath fell against the back of his neck.
Snape said, "So help me, if you're-"
"Shut up. Just…shut up. I'm not screwing with your head."
"Not my head I'm worried about, actually," he mumbled, letting out a shaky breath. "God, just what are you up to?" Snape said, very nearly hysterical.
"I want you. Thought you'd realized that by now."
"But why?"
"Don't know. But I do." He pressed his lips to a patch of skin at the back of his neck, and Snape's whole body shuddered at that. It was fantastic. "You don't believe me," he whispered.
"Why should I?" He was trying to be firm with his voice, seem tough, but it wasn't at all working. "It doesn't make any sense."
"Yet you didn't tell me to get out, did you?"
Snape was actively trembling against him. "You're crazy."
"Mmm hmm."
Sirius slowly, cautiously let his fingers slip downward until they rested just under the waistband of Snape's trousers.
Snape let out a long breath, but he didn't jerk away, so Sirius let his hands slide down into his pants, over his underwear but also over a cock that was half hard in his grasp but filled even more as Snape groaned, deeply but quietly, giving a little thrust into his hand.
"Looks to me like you're crazy, too," Sirius said.
"Are you…gay, Black?"
"More or less. And you?" He squeezed.
"Fuck," Snape muttered. "Probably."
Sirius pushed Snape's trousers and underwear down, drawing him out of the open V of his fly, palm on bare skin finally. Snape's whole body was so hot now, but especially his cock, lying thick in Sirius's grasp. He wondered if anybody had ever wanked him before.
He spoke the words against Snape's neck: "Will you let me do this?"
Snape just nodded.
When Sirius pressed a little closer, nudging his hard-on into Snape's ass, he felt him give a little jump, but that was nothing compared to the way the man's hips wiggled against him as he stroked him. Every movement sent a thrust of friction over Sirius's cock, pressed up against the zipper in his pants, grinding into too many layers of fabric. He wanted so much more than this, wanted to feel skin on skin, wanted to be buried inside him, make him keep trembling like this, all over, panting and calling his name. He wanted to make it so fucking good that he'd never want it from anybody else. He thought it was just the thrill of knowing he was probably the first to ever make Snape feel like this, but he knew, deep down, as he listened to him and gently sucked at the join of his shoulder and fisted his cock, that there was something really possessive about what he felt, and he hadn't at all expected that.
Snape was now gasping with nearly every stroke, but he somehow found the air for words.
"I didn't think-- I didn't know you would-- God, I can't believe you- you-fuck-want this."
"I do. Merlin help me. You have no bloody idea all the things I want."
Snape's ass pressed back against his hips, grinding into his cock. "I can't believe you're…hard. Fuck."
"Yeah. So hard. Wish I could…"
"What?"
"Not now. Just want you to come."
"What--fuck--tell me, what do you want?"
With a gasping laugh, half delirious, he said, "Oh, mate, I want to fuck you so thoroughly you lose a few brain cells. You sure as hell need it. But there's too many clothes, not enough-" Snape's hips reflexively snapped back against his, and it was too much. "Merlin, I wish I could feel you."
"Yeah," Snape groaned. He was so close, almost gone. His head fell forward, but his ass kept grinding back into Sirius's cock, aching and dripping and about damn tired of being rubbed up against the inside of his trousers.
Snape said, "I want to do something. Let me touch you. Let me-"
Sirius yanked Snape's pants down over his hips and then tore at his own zipper until he'd managed to free himself. He guided his cock down, letting it come up between Snape's thighs, where everything was slick, so hot between their bodies, and Snape let out a gasp and Sirius swore he saw a ragged smile come over his face as he pressed himself up behind him, as tight as he could.
He looked down over his shoulder as he stroked him even harder now while his hips thrust at Snape's ass. He could feel the slick head of his cock pushing into Snape's sack, and at some point, he absolutely lost all track of everything except the feel of Snape's cock throbbing in his hands and his own throbbing between his legs.
Suddenly, helplessly, he was shooting off against the inside of Snape's thigh, coming with a groan as he pulled and pulled at him, trying to get him to follow. Snape's hands had come back behind him, to clutch at Sirius's hips, and his fingernails nearly broke skin as he murmured fuck like an exhalation of air and came over his hand, stream after stream until Sirius had milked it all out of him.
Snape seemed surprised when Sirius turned him and began dazedly casting clean-up charms, but he joined in rather quickly, and eventually, they had their clothing set right, most of the stickiness gone. But that didn't do a thing for the awkwardness in the room.
Snape sat down on the couch, hand over his face covering a bewildered smile. Sirius perched on the opposite arm, where Snape had been before, not less disorientated himself.
"So?" Sirius finally said.
"So."
"Um… Well, then."
Snape rolled his eyes and said, "Bleeding hell, Black. Are you always this articulate after you…"
"Shag someone?"
"That wasn't technically shagging."
"But would you want that?"
He smiled, apparently confused for a moment before he replied, "Yeah. I think so."
"You think?"
"Well, I don't know. I've never…" He rolled his eyes again, this time at himself.
"With a guy or with anybody?"
Snape just glared.
Sirius smiled warmly. "It would be fine, you know. If you wanted to. Sex is easy."
"So you say."
"I do. What's harder is having a conversation with somebody. Especially you."
Snape smiled at that, shaking his head. "That's because you spend too much time around your obnoxious friends. You expect the world to revolve around you. You don't listen."
"What? I'm not the center of the universe?"
"I'm serious."
"So am I. I'm different than you think. Sometimes, anyway," he said with a self-deprecating smile. "Try me," he said, dropping down onto seat and laying himself out so that his feet were very nearly in Snape's lap before he fixed his gaze on Snape's face.
Snape just stared, and when the silence threatened to stretch too long, Sirius said with a friendly smirk, "Not so easy as it looks, is it?"
Snape rolled his eyes, and they stayed just to the left of Sirirus's face. He muttered, "Now you know why I don't talk to people much. I never know what to say."
Sirius could see, then, that he'd made a bit of a mistake, made him feel self-conscious. There was only really one remedy for that.
"No," Sirius said with a grin. "I think you don't talk to people because you're a stuck-up prat with absolutely no sense of humor."
Snape paused only for a second, long enough to read his face, then he was launching himself top of him, pinning his arms down, staring into his eyes with an equal mix of amusement and fire.
He said, "Then maybe it's best we stop talking."
Of course, they did end up talking that afternoon, two pairs of orgasms later. But by then, they'd both realized Sirius had been listening for weeks, and Snape had, indeed, in his own subtle way been talking.
This is sort of stream of consciousness writing, in that it's not been edited much, just rambled out in spare moments over the last couple of days. So if it's wonky, that's why. I always hate to fret over PWP, and besides, I got the idea late but I still wanted to get it done on time.
Title: Five Places Sirius Black Probably Shouldn't Have Been Having Sex During His Seventh Year, Not That That Stopped Him
Pairings: Sirius/Lily (not really, though), Sirius/James, Sirius/Remus, Sirius/Lucius (in a manner of speaking), Sirius/Severus
Rating: NC-17
Summary: see title. Ye gods!-7000 words.
Note: This is not really a coherent fic at all, just a collection of smutlets, with one that got away from me (the Sirius/Severus makes up nearly half the word count). I made a concerted effort not to be cute, although I can't promise completely brainless PWP. What I can promise is gratuitous fucking. :)
Five Places Sirius Black Probably Shouldn't Have Been Having Sex During His Seventh Year
(Not That That Stopped Him)
She wasn't what he wanted, but since he couldn't rightly say what that was, and since he was drunk off his ass and almost unmanageably horny, he let her drag him off to the back room anyway. Besides, she smelled really nice and felt really nice and she wasn't Lily Evans.
Or maybe it was that he could pretend she was if he wanted to, if he closed his eyes. He wasn't sure; he closed his eyes anyway. He was sure about the fact that this girl wasn't wearing knickers under her skirt and she moaned in his ear that she'd wanted him for so long just before she sank down over his cock. But he wasn't at all sure that he would escape the Three Broomsticks that night without having thoroughly broken an old chair, just with their body weight alone.
Of course, the one he'd been sitting in before hadn't broken, and Lily was a little heavier than this girl.
Lily had been drunk, rambling about this continuing conflict in her brain over James, whether she should just go for it or not. While Sirius and Lily weren't exactly close, and while she normally only fluttered around the edges of his life just as she did James's, there were occasional times when she actually sought him out. Never mind that he was ten times the obnoxious, insensitive bloke James was, she sometimes found it necessary to talk to him about the problem, as if he should have any opinions on the matter other than wanting to get James laid so he'd quit being such a mopey little shit.
He did, as a matter of fact, have other opinions. One was that James didn't need the aggravation of such a stuck-up girl. The other was that Lily was indeed too good for James, and it would never work. That meant that she was way too good for the likes of Sirius, but that didn't stop him from slowly but surely finding himself really, really enamored of her. It did, however, stop him from letting her throw herself at him in a fit of drunken misery.
No, hell, that wouldn't have stopped him. It was only his friendship with James that could do that.
So he was her sometimes-friend, but mostly when she wanted to get out of her own skin for a while. He liked her best that way, except for how it made a mess of his libido and his brain. When she would come to him and ask him to sneak off to Hogsmeade, because she needed to get away for a while, he couldn't refuse her. Her otherwise clear eyes took on this twinkle. It turned out that when she got a little alcohol in her, she loosened up a little. It was not unlike dealing with Remus, actually, when he decided he needed to let off a little steam. But Remus didn't have fantastic tits. Remus also didn't wear short skirts and casually rub his thighs against his as he sat down or scrape his fingernails over the back of his neck. Remus especially didn't plant himself in his lap and look a little too long into his eyes while he talked about James Potter.
He couldn't keep looking at her face or he'd kiss her, and he couldn't look down because there they were, the best pair of tits in the whole fucking school, heaving up against his chest as a giggle escaped her lips. So he coughed and eased her off his lap, mumbling something about the bathroom, and he wasn't altogether certain she hadn't felt him getting hard. Hopefully, if she'd felt it, she wouldn't remember later.
He also hoped she wouldn't wander off to find where he'd gone to. She'd ended up among a handful of other wayward Hogwarts students, mostly Hufflepuffs, one guy in particular he knew she fancied, but not as much as James. Never as much as James, no matter how she put him off and fretted about being attracted to such a rogue.
He wondered what she'd think about herself if she bothered to realize how much she was attracted to an even bigger rogue than James, at least when her inhibitions were down. Sirius knew he thought a lot about such a quandary himself, but in the reverse-why had he developed a sudden and raging crush on an unavailable girl who looked so collected and calm and serious all the time? That was the lily that intrigued him, he thought. Even if he got along with her better when she was like this, he wanted the studious, restrained version of the girl, the kind who would probably never climb into his lap and ride him like this sixth year Ravenclaw was.
She bounced over him, breasts heaving, and he finally buried his face against them, biting and sucking through the fabric of her shirt as she shivered and sunk down onto him again and again, so wet and tight. Every thrust brought a sigh to her lips, and soon he found himself grunting, thrusting up against her, his hands snapping her hips into a rhythm. Then, to his surprise, he heard her breath change, and she moaned, maybe a little too loudly, right there, so he kept doing what he'd been doing, suddenly amazed to feel her throbbing and squeezing around him.
She was bent forward and kissing him on the neck when he came. Lily Evans was laughing loudly in the next room when the girl stood up, letting him slip out of her.
She seemed to know exactly where things stood, which he was silently grateful for. Hell, she probably knew his heart was in several pieces in several different places, anywhere but with her. So she kissed him on the cheek and gathered up her things and slipped back out into the main room.
He pushed the chair back against the wall, but he felt the sudden urge to drop back down into it, to try and breathe before he rejoined the revelry beyond the door.
*****
James Potter, Merlin bless him, liked to give head. He liked it so much he would sometimes do it with no hope of immediate release and reciprocity. In exchange for such services, though, a person was expected to be a very willing partner whenever James took a fancy to things besides sucking cock, like shagging the life out of you. Everything about the occasional casual sex between them was about when James took a fancy to it, but that was just fine with Sirius; whenever he decided he was bound and determined to suck Sirius's cock, Sirius put up no fuss.
Except that one time in the library.
"Prongs," he hissed, feeling James's hand trailing up and down his leg. Sometimes he liked to tease, which was annoying, but Sirius knew this particular look in his eyes well, so he knew the touching that was going on under the table was only a prelude to something that he generally didn't think about doing ensconced in the back corner of the library, with the smell of musty old books in his nostrils.
Keeping one eye on the end of the stacks, James licked over the shell of his ear and said, "Don't you want it, Padfoot?"
"Not here. Are you mad?"
"You mean, you wouldn't like to have me pull you out right here, right now. I could make you come so hard. You know I can. I could slip right here under the table and swallow you down until you didn't even care that you're in the library studying History."
Fuck, but he did love it when James talked dirty. James knew that, the sneaky bastard.
"James," he mumbled. "Bloody hell, what's gotten into you?"
James's hand was suddenly on the button on his trousers, and while he watched the door, James unzipped them and thrust his hand inside. Sirius had been hard already, but now he was rock hard, feeling James's thumb swipe over the head.
"Want me to stop?" James murmured.
"No. Yes. No. Merlin, this is crazy," he gasped. "Like, crazier than normal."
He could hear the other students, just on the other side of the book stacks. He thought he could hear the clacking of the librarian's heels, even if they hadn't seen her in their corner in half an hour. Maybe it was about time she showed up. Maybe someone would want a book on obscure medieval sorcery.
Maybe if James didn't fucking stop he would come all over himself and the floor, right now.
James leaned over and whispered to him again. "Love you like this, Padfoot. All squirmy and desperate. Makes me so hot."
"James." His voice was pinched up, nearly a squeak.
"Can't stop thinking about the way you taste. Want me to taste you? Want my tongue licking every inch of you? Want all that wet heat all around you, sucking and-"
"Fuck," Sirius whispered with a sharp exhalation. "Just do it. Now. Before we get caught."
James smiled wickedly as he slid under the table and Sirius thought he could breathe again. No one would have to know what was going on.
Of course, they'd know quite well if they saw his face as James took him in, finally, no pretense of doing anything but making him come, and fast. Sirius knew exactly how James would look, those eyes of his blazing as he looked up at him, but not being able to see it all made him crazy in bad ways and good. This was a different sort of blow job than normal, more like the way it was when they occasionally took a chance on something semi-public. Of course, Sirius had thought an empty classroom was semi-public enough for his taste. This was something way beyond what they'd done before. But his body seemed to like it, because it only took a couple of minutes of James pulling his lips along Sirius's cock, pressing into the head with his tongue, before Sirius's hips were coming up off the chair and he was coming in a long stream into James's mouth, feeling him swallow over and over.
When James came back up to his chair, his hair was mussed, his lips were red and wet, and he was sporting a serious hard-on. It was ridiculously hot.
Sirius leaned over and said, "Do you suppose you can be as quiet as I was?"
He slid under the table without even looking at him, chuckling to hear James already unfastening his pants.
***** [upon re-reading this section, I realized I neglected to account for lube; let's just pretend one of those handy wizarding sex spells was cast, shall we?]
It didn't bother him too much that Remus only wanted to fuck him when the moon was coming on. If he'd thought the man didn't actually want him unless he was very nearly gone over, he wouldn't have allowed it to keep going on. Something told him he shouldn't allow it anyway, because if Moony did want him all the time but would only let himself take what he wanted when he couldn't help himself…
Things had always been complicated between them, a mixture of complete trust and a good dose of fear at an emotion that constant and strong, laced through with daily reminders of how fucking different they were. Why should this sex thing be anything other than just as complicated and weird?
Because it wasn't just sex, or at least it wasn't like the way he and James sometimes casually fucked around. With James, there was something playful and friendly about it, one coaxing the other into it. Remus, on the other hand, had a way of simply looking at him that made him hard, never mind what he could do to Sirius's self-control when he actually got his hands on him.
Remus usually sat behind him in class, subtly nudging his chair or James's with his feet when they went above and beyond amusing and into obnoxious or distracting. Remus was one of his three best friends, but touchy-feely he was not. However, when his transformation into the wolf was getting closer, he would become a much more…sensual person. It was in the way he moved and spoke, but it came out the most in how he was always in Sirius's personal space. He nearly always sat right beside him in class for those couple of days.
Remus could be alluring enough anytime, in his own quiet, intense way, but when all that energy of his began to bubble to the surface before the change, it was damn distracting, especially so in the stillness of the Potions classroom. Remus would get a little fidgety, and not in the normal, high-strung sort of way he could be when someone set him on edge. He stayed permanently on edge, but he radiated something rather more powerful than anxious. Sirius didn't know what it was, only that he was as unnerved by it as he was fascinated.
Remus normally kept things to a low boil for a while before he finally gave up and gave in. He didn't make overt gestures until he was damn near ready to explode. That is why when he leaned over in class and whispered in Sirius's ear, he had his undivided attention.
Remus's voice was rough when he said, "Follow me in two minutes."
Sirius gave him a sharp look only to feel Remus's fingers creep along the inside of his forearm as they pulled his hand subtly but not really so subtly into his lap. There was no mistaking what he felt under Remus's robes, and he had to resist the urge to follow every movement of his body as he slid out of the seat and weaved through the desks and out of the room without looking back.
After an interminable two minutes, where Sirius shifted in his seat, achingly hard and so impatient, definitely too impatient to listen to Slughorn rattle on, he excused himself, too. When he came out into the hallway, Remus grabbed him by the arm and pulled him around the corner. Sirius was so fucking ready that he didn't pay attention to anything but the back of Remus's neck, how he was going to bite and suck at it while he drove into him. There were very few things in life more rewarding-or more fucking hot-that making Remus Lupin come apart at the seams.
But when they ducked into the room and Remus pulled the door shut, shoving him back against it, Sirius realized two things: one, he was in no way shape or form going to be doing the fucking; and two, his mild-mannered friend was a hell of a lot kinkier than he'd ever thought.
He opened his mouth to exclaim something about toilets and some people still use this one, don't they? and sodding hell, Moony, do you really need that weepy ghost watching us going at it?, but Remus clamped his hand over his mouth and just glared at him-not mean, simply seriously-and pressed him into the door hard with his hips, grinding.
Once Sirius nodded that he would be quiet, Remus took his hand away and put his mouth to his ear, whispering so quietly: "Don't make a sound. I just… I couldn't wait another second."
Sirius was already unfastening his pants, turning and bracing himself against the door, because when Moony got like this, it was best to just let him have his way. Better than best, actually. Just hearing him mutter the necessary charms was enough to make Sirius want to rub himself against the door.
Remus stretched him so fast, probing with fingers in a way that would likely make him sore later, as unused to being on the receiving end as he was, but it would be entirely worth it. Finally, he heard Remus's pants fall, and he braced himself to feel the wet, warm head of his cock sliding down his crack, pressing at his asshole for a brief second before it slid halfway, and then, with a thrust, all the way inside.
Sirius let out a gasp, and Remus's grip tightened on his hip, pinching hard enough to bruise. Then, as though he were either trying to reinforce his point about being quiet or completely shoot the idea all to hell, he pulled out and thrust back in again, quick and hard. Sirius clamped his jaw shut and put every bit of reaction he had into the way his hips went back to meet Remus's cock.
There was no way Myrtle wouldn't be able to hear it, the slick sound of it, the slap of bodies and Sirius's forehead once or twice banging into the door. Sirius had never stopped to really listen to sex before, not this way, and while it sounded a lot like a sport to him, maybe a game of Quidditch, it was also incredibly arousing to hear the way Remus exhaled breaths as he pounded into him in a regular rhythm, going deep and holding there, grinding in, before he pulled back out again.
It was too much, the way he was this close to nailing that fantastically sensitive spot inside him with each prolonged thrust. Sirius closed his hand over Remus's on his hip and brought it to his cock. He let his hips do the work keeping Remus inside him, bearing all his weight as Remus leaned them both forward a little and wanked him in earnest until he shuddered and came in a stream against the door. Then Remus fucked him fast and hard, and he came soon after, with his hands still around Sirius's waist, one fist around his cock.
For a second after he pulled out, he squeezed up tight against him and spoke in his ear again, a breathless whisper: "You are so fucking hot. You know that? I can't even fucking concentrate when I'm around you sometimes." Sirius just gave a shaky laugh as Remus flattened his tongue against the side of his neck.
"Don't see how you concentrate on Potions anyway, mate," he replied, and he could feel Remus exhale a breath against his neck before he straightened up and they both began to put their clothes right. Then he took a chance: "Maybe we should skip Magical Creatures altogether, hmm?"
As they finally heard it-Moaning Myrtle's whining cry whooshing from the other side of the cavernous room-Remus pushed open the door.
"Absolutely," he said with a nod and a mischievous smile. "The prefect's bath is so easily charmed into locking."
*****
It wasn't that he didn't like Quidditch. He did. And it wasn't that it wasn't an exciting game. It was Gryffindor versus Slytherin, after all, and he had more than a little money and more than a few favors staked on the outcome of the match. But when one sees the best- and most dominant-looking bloke in this history of this or any other world skirting the edge of the Quidditch pitch and ascending the stands, one finds the actual Quidditch part of the scenario a little difficult to pay a damn bit of attention to.
The man was a Slytherin alum, and the epitome of that sort, too-condescending, hard, cold, and completely in control. All this Sirius could discern just from watching him and from the snatched of conversation he'd heard. The man was twenty, maybe twenty two years old, but he carried himself like he was much older…except not quite, because though he had enough power that it seemed to light him up from inside, even apart from that long flowing platinum blonde hair Sirius desperately wanted to get his hands in, he wasn't stuffy or rigid about the way he used his body. His walk was very nearly a strut, but not exactly. He didn't need to strut. He was so sure he was God's gift that he didn't have to prove it by overcompensating. Sirius had been known to walk that way himself, although it was almost always a posture for him. He was damn good at putting on such airs and making them seem real, but he was also just as likely to be natural in his behavior. Though that friendly charm of his often did just as well charming people for all its lack of finesse, the sudden presence of this man, stoically watching the Quidditch match from the stands just meters away from his own, made him desperately want that sort of natural smoothness for himself. He wanted to be able to impress a man like that.
Instead-because, really, there was no way in hell he was making eyes at that magnificent block of stone and even less chance any flirtation from a kid still in school would make any difference in the world to him-he simply sat and watched him until his cock got too hard to endure and he was, as always, thankful for robes as he worked his way through the crowd and out of the stands.
No one saw him go down under the stands, but if they had, they wouldn't have been able to find him if they went looking. He worked himself back into a lovely little corner he'd found in third year and had used more times than he could count to hide from the world-from friends and from teachers, occasionally from girls. It was a good place to be, especially when he really, really needed a refuge. Of course, he'd never gone there with the express purpose of frantically pulling himself off before.
Well, he thought as he pushed down the waistband of his pants and drew himself out, I've never been in the habit of wanking over Slytherins, either. First time for everything.
His cock was already a little slick, just from thinking about him, sitting there watching his lips as they curled around words, his eyes as they took in the game. He imagined himself striding over and saying dirty things to him, right in front of the whole Slytherin lot of them, just to see if he could make his eyes cloud up with lust. He'd do anything he needed to get the guy just as hard and needing it as he was, whether he had to straddle him and fuck him with his tongue or simply offer the blow job he was dying to give him. He would find his head pushed down, between those long long legs, where he would push up his robes and take his cock out and down his throat and make him beg for it. Fuck would he love to hear that voice, those cold tones he'd only heard a few times but that felt burned into his brain; he'd love to hear it commanding him but he'd love even more to hear it turn to a whine as he ordered him to suck him harder even if it sounded like please, because, yes, Merlin, please, fuck, his hands would tug at his hair and he would shove himself through his lips and he could almost taste him now, salty on his quick, nasty tongue, hear him groan as he came, shoving that big long gorgeous cock down his throat, muscles trembling with how fucking good Sirius had made him feel, how much power he had over him.
Sirius's head fell against the wooden support pillar as he bit back a moan of his own and-so close, right there, twist and harder, harder, yes, there!-he came in a stream over his hands and onto the ground. He came so hard it almost hurt, but it was such a fucking relief.
As he cast cleaning charms on himself, he wondered if maybe he should forgo returning to the stands, where he would have to be that close to the man again.
He went back up anyway.
*****
Severus Snape was a creature of habit. He found that both amusing and comforting, in an odd way. Even with the vast majority of students gone home for the holidays, he kept to a schedule, and since it was one Sirius had bothered to learn (okay, had begun to learn unconsciously, although it sounded better if he could make these ridiculous urges seem intentional), he knew precisely where he would be after dinner.
There were more Gryffindors than usual staying around for the break between terms, at least a dozen, as well as nearly that many Ravenclaws. There were only a handful of Hufflepuffs, but the Syltherins were the most poorly represented in the cavernous and mostly empty great hall at dinner: just Snape and a couple of skinny, giggly third year girls. In the interest of building a sense of community in the quiet castle, the students all sat at the same table during holidays, for a time dispensing with house rivalries, where any actually existed. All in all, those left behind this time were an amiable lot, except for Snape, who sat hunched over his plate and didn't even look at anyone much less speak.
He did, however, sit across from Sirius, despite several other more likely places he might've hidden himself. Sirius wanted to be encouraged by that, but he wasn't sure if it was more or less passive aggressive than the way the guy had been staring at him through every class they shared all term, which amounted to a good deal of his time spent looking at Sirius and not at his books. It was only when Sirius began to stare back that Snape stopped.
At first, it had been a nice game-make Snivellus nervous, let him know he was on to him and his little crush. I was a private game, too, something he hadn't seen fit (no, he'd consciously chosen not to) share with the other boys. But there was something about that face, the combination of pale skin and dark eyes, formidable nose and thin, rosy lips, that kept drawing him back, over and over. He was the best sort of puzzle, because once Sirius started really paying attention to him, even after he learned his habits and memorized every scowl had made as well as every subdued smile, he found that he still couldn't quite make sense of what to do with such a person. He was, however, sure that there was something to be done.
Sirius would like to say he had left off antagonizing Snape first, but he hadn't. In fact, his pestering intensified, at least in intensity, although it was now more about getting a reaction and gathering information than it was pissing him off. He had eventually given that up when he found that it no longer seemed to bother Snape; he simply shrugged it off, sometimes with a smile. James and Peter found this turn infuriating. Sirius found it…confusing, especially his reaction to it.
It wasn't possible Severus Snape was actually worth pursuing, was it? And it certainly wasn't possible he actually wanted to be pursued?
Snape ate slowly; the two yammering Slytherin tarts did not. He'd done a good deal of watching them, too, for lack of better occupation, and he knew they ate very little and then skipped back to the Slytherin common room to scoop up their brooms for an afternoon of flying. They were also the world's most harebrained girls-just how they were Slytherins he had no idea-because they didn't exactly bother about things like closing doors. He'd actually found that out when he got up the nerve two days before to have it out with Snape after a long afternoon of epic staring-and-looking-away on both their parts, only to lose his nerve long about the steps to the dungeon. But not before he heard Snape coming up the corridor, muttering about batty girls without the sense to keep their common room shut up. Apparently, it took a lot to gain entrance to the Slytherin enclave, but there was no mechanism to protect against carelessness.
Which was either ridiculous or entirely fitting, considering how blithely that lot treated the rules sometimes. Sirius often wondered if he really shouldn't have been sorted into Slytherin, especially as he waited for the silly girls to finally leave the hallway so he could slipped into the Syltherin common room. He expected to find a protective charm casting him out again, but there wasn't one. Probably, he thought, they would be set up to work against the Muggle-born. If his parents had taught him nothing else, it was that he was pureblood wizard.
He wondered if Snape was pureblood. He had a strange feeling he wasn't. Snape was a whole lovely mixture of things, and as Sirius settled himself on an overstuffed chair by the fire, it really hit him exactly where he was and just how crazy this was and precisely how badly he must've wanted to learn more about all the parts of that mixture of moods and attitudes that was Severus Snape-apparently even the depths of his paranoia.
As soon as Snape came into the room and found him sitting there, he pulled out his wand and pointed it at him.
"Out," he said. Not How did you get in?, but Out.
Sirius held up his wandless hands. "No."
"What the bloody hell are you doing down here?" he hissed, wand still clutched in his hand, even if he lowered it.
"Comparing common rooms. Yours is nicer, by the way."
He glared at him a moment longer, testing the waters, then he sighed and made a show of trying to be just as nonchalant as Sirius was, dropping his satchel on the ground beside the couch and perching on the arm of it, his back to the fire. "So you've finally gotten bored enough to antagonize me? What a surprise."
"If I was going to antagonize you, I'd've done it at supper. I came here to talk."
He braced himself for another snappish comment, but instead Snape just raised an eyebrow, then he crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh?"
All at once, his heartbeat pounded up into his ears, and his palms came over all sweaty. Bloody hell, he thought, this is just Snivellus…who was staring at him, rather unabashedly now, for all his lingering bewilderment at the situation.
So Sirius just stared back, long and hard, in a way he hadn't been able to in class, in front of everyone else, until Snape's face went pink and he bowed his head.
"Oh, I see," Sirius said. "It's perfectly all right for you to sit across the room from me in Dark Arts and try to burn holes clean through my skull with your eyes, but when it's turnabouts, you get stupid and sheepish."
"Not sheepish," he snapped, head coming up. "It's just that I know what you're playing at, Black, and I'm not stupid enough to fall for it."
"Oh, but aren't you? It's too late, you know," he replied, voice coming smooth and low now, slower. "Can't hide it. It’s plain as day, just from the way you look at me. Everybody knows."
His voice was choked: "Everybody?"
Sirius smiled. He couldn't help it, just like he couldn't help coming down here just to get the man to fucking talk to him. "No," he said quietly. "Nobody but me."
For a moment, he thought he'd gotten in, penetrated those large dark eyes, but then Snape suddenly fluttered up off the arm of the couch and went to stand with his back to him, by the fire.
"Get out," he muttered.
"No."
"I could get you in so much trouble for being down here."
"But you won't, because you want me here."
"So what," he mumbled. Turning, he repeated, "So what!" He took a deep breath, trying to rein it in again. "If you're done having your fun, I wish you would just go."
"This," Sirius said with a sarcastic chuckle, "is not fun. You are so rarely fun, at least when we're up there, doing what we do best. That's not why I came."
He could see his profile, how Snape's eye narrowed and a cautious smile played over his face. "And what is it we do best, Black?"
He would have sworn Snape was trying to be seductive, except he wasn't, just sure of himself, needling in the same way Sirius always needled him. It worked anyway. He instantly knew that was part of why he was down here-Snape had a way of disarming him even when he wasn't particularly trying.
Sirius said, "Well, apparently we've become excellent starers. Why do you watch me so much?"
He didn't deny it. He simply said, "I don't understand you."
"I realize that."
"No. I mean, that's why I stare."
"So it has nothing to do with you wanting me?" Snape didn't reply, didn't even look at him, in fact, despite the waves of tension emanating from him, so Sirius added, "It's why I'm always looking at you, I think."
Snape's face turned toward his and his eyes went wide. He turned away again, back to the fire, fists clenched at his sides. "You think?"
"Well, how in the hell am I supposed to know when you don't speak two words strung together to me, not unless I'm picking on you. Which, by the way, why do you let me pick on you like that?"
Snape's head bobbed with a laugh. "You don't have any idea how you are, do you?"
"How am I?"
"Like- like a force of nature or something. There's no preventing you from doing anything you want to do once you set your mind to it. Case in point, your standing here in the Slytherin common room."
Sirius waited for him to keep speaking, but he didn't, and Sirius could think of nothing else to say. Maybe he hadn't come to talk anyway.
Gathering all the resolve he had, he rose from the chair and crossed the room. Snape had to have heard him come up behind him, but he didn't stop him, even if he stiffened in shock as Sirius's arms slid around his waist and his hands crossed over his stomach.
"Black," he said warningly.
"Tell me to get the hell out, if you really want me gone. Speak now or forever hold your peace…Severus."
Snape didn't say a word, so Sirius let his body come up flush with his. His felt so normal, smelled normal, too. Good, real; human.
But he was not the world's easiest human to deal with. He still held himself somewhat rigid, even as Sirius's breath fell against the back of his neck.
Snape said, "So help me, if you're-"
"Shut up. Just…shut up. I'm not screwing with your head."
"Not my head I'm worried about, actually," he mumbled, letting out a shaky breath. "God, just what are you up to?" Snape said, very nearly hysterical.
"I want you. Thought you'd realized that by now."
"But why?"
"Don't know. But I do." He pressed his lips to a patch of skin at the back of his neck, and Snape's whole body shuddered at that. It was fantastic. "You don't believe me," he whispered.
"Why should I?" He was trying to be firm with his voice, seem tough, but it wasn't at all working. "It doesn't make any sense."
"Yet you didn't tell me to get out, did you?"
Snape was actively trembling against him. "You're crazy."
"Mmm hmm."
Sirius slowly, cautiously let his fingers slip downward until they rested just under the waistband of Snape's trousers.
Snape let out a long breath, but he didn't jerk away, so Sirius let his hands slide down into his pants, over his underwear but also over a cock that was half hard in his grasp but filled even more as Snape groaned, deeply but quietly, giving a little thrust into his hand.
"Looks to me like you're crazy, too," Sirius said.
"Are you…gay, Black?"
"More or less. And you?" He squeezed.
"Fuck," Snape muttered. "Probably."
Sirius pushed Snape's trousers and underwear down, drawing him out of the open V of his fly, palm on bare skin finally. Snape's whole body was so hot now, but especially his cock, lying thick in Sirius's grasp. He wondered if anybody had ever wanked him before.
He spoke the words against Snape's neck: "Will you let me do this?"
Snape just nodded.
When Sirius pressed a little closer, nudging his hard-on into Snape's ass, he felt him give a little jump, but that was nothing compared to the way the man's hips wiggled against him as he stroked him. Every movement sent a thrust of friction over Sirius's cock, pressed up against the zipper in his pants, grinding into too many layers of fabric. He wanted so much more than this, wanted to feel skin on skin, wanted to be buried inside him, make him keep trembling like this, all over, panting and calling his name. He wanted to make it so fucking good that he'd never want it from anybody else. He thought it was just the thrill of knowing he was probably the first to ever make Snape feel like this, but he knew, deep down, as he listened to him and gently sucked at the join of his shoulder and fisted his cock, that there was something really possessive about what he felt, and he hadn't at all expected that.
Snape was now gasping with nearly every stroke, but he somehow found the air for words.
"I didn't think-- I didn't know you would-- God, I can't believe you- you-fuck-want this."
"I do. Merlin help me. You have no bloody idea all the things I want."
Snape's ass pressed back against his hips, grinding into his cock. "I can't believe you're…hard. Fuck."
"Yeah. So hard. Wish I could…"
"What?"
"Not now. Just want you to come."
"What--fuck--tell me, what do you want?"
With a gasping laugh, half delirious, he said, "Oh, mate, I want to fuck you so thoroughly you lose a few brain cells. You sure as hell need it. But there's too many clothes, not enough-" Snape's hips reflexively snapped back against his, and it was too much. "Merlin, I wish I could feel you."
"Yeah," Snape groaned. He was so close, almost gone. His head fell forward, but his ass kept grinding back into Sirius's cock, aching and dripping and about damn tired of being rubbed up against the inside of his trousers.
Snape said, "I want to do something. Let me touch you. Let me-"
Sirius yanked Snape's pants down over his hips and then tore at his own zipper until he'd managed to free himself. He guided his cock down, letting it come up between Snape's thighs, where everything was slick, so hot between their bodies, and Snape let out a gasp and Sirius swore he saw a ragged smile come over his face as he pressed himself up behind him, as tight as he could.
He looked down over his shoulder as he stroked him even harder now while his hips thrust at Snape's ass. He could feel the slick head of his cock pushing into Snape's sack, and at some point, he absolutely lost all track of everything except the feel of Snape's cock throbbing in his hands and his own throbbing between his legs.
Suddenly, helplessly, he was shooting off against the inside of Snape's thigh, coming with a groan as he pulled and pulled at him, trying to get him to follow. Snape's hands had come back behind him, to clutch at Sirius's hips, and his fingernails nearly broke skin as he murmured fuck like an exhalation of air and came over his hand, stream after stream until Sirius had milked it all out of him.
Snape seemed surprised when Sirius turned him and began dazedly casting clean-up charms, but he joined in rather quickly, and eventually, they had their clothing set right, most of the stickiness gone. But that didn't do a thing for the awkwardness in the room.
Snape sat down on the couch, hand over his face covering a bewildered smile. Sirius perched on the opposite arm, where Snape had been before, not less disorientated himself.
"So?" Sirius finally said.
"So."
"Um… Well, then."
Snape rolled his eyes and said, "Bleeding hell, Black. Are you always this articulate after you…"
"Shag someone?"
"That wasn't technically shagging."
"But would you want that?"
He smiled, apparently confused for a moment before he replied, "Yeah. I think so."
"You think?"
"Well, I don't know. I've never…" He rolled his eyes again, this time at himself.
"With a guy or with anybody?"
Snape just glared.
Sirius smiled warmly. "It would be fine, you know. If you wanted to. Sex is easy."
"So you say."
"I do. What's harder is having a conversation with somebody. Especially you."
Snape smiled at that, shaking his head. "That's because you spend too much time around your obnoxious friends. You expect the world to revolve around you. You don't listen."
"What? I'm not the center of the universe?"
"I'm serious."
"So am I. I'm different than you think. Sometimes, anyway," he said with a self-deprecating smile. "Try me," he said, dropping down onto seat and laying himself out so that his feet were very nearly in Snape's lap before he fixed his gaze on Snape's face.
Snape just stared, and when the silence threatened to stretch too long, Sirius said with a friendly smirk, "Not so easy as it looks, is it?"
Snape rolled his eyes, and they stayed just to the left of Sirirus's face. He muttered, "Now you know why I don't talk to people much. I never know what to say."
Sirius could see, then, that he'd made a bit of a mistake, made him feel self-conscious. There was only really one remedy for that.
"No," Sirius said with a grin. "I think you don't talk to people because you're a stuck-up prat with absolutely no sense of humor."
Snape paused only for a second, long enough to read his face, then he was launching himself top of him, pinning his arms down, staring into his eyes with an equal mix of amusement and fire.
He said, "Then maybe it's best we stop talking."
Of course, they did end up talking that afternoon, two pairs of orgasms later. But by then, they'd both realized Sirius had been listening for weeks, and Snape had, indeed, in his own subtle way been talking.