Part One: An Inconvenient Affair
Title: An Inconvenient Affair
Author: carolinelamb
Pairing(s)/character(s): Sirius Black/Severus Snape, Highlight to read*Hermione/Pansy,*
Rating: NC-17
Prompt #: 14 (by sookie_marsters)
Word count: ~14.170
Summary: After a chance meeting at a muggle bar the two rivals manage to get drunk and fall into bed together. They agree on a "just sex" relationship but what happens when the walls start falling down and Sirius and Severus start actually liking each other?
Warnings: Highlight to read*Rimming, oral, Bottom!Snape, Bottom!Sirius, descriptions of alcohol intake and the resulting loss of inhibitions,*
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and their characters belong to JKR and her affiliates. I, the author, make no profit.
A/N: Thank you, dear Beta for your help! All remaining mistakes are mine! Thank you, dear Mods for hosting this fest and bring back Sirius Black to life (and love ;)!
01.
Sirius Black greets him politely, with a nod of his head, that even looks like a small bow. He behaves as if they are merely acquaintances whose relationship is based on mutual respect. Severus waits for the onset of his usual rage, grief and hatred that has often led him to lose his control in the past.
Disappointingly nothing happens. All he can feel is disinterest coupled with a vague dislike (although some part of his brain still notes, that Black looks better now, that the years in freedom have been kind to him, and that he has recovered just fine from being dead).
Severus curls the right corner of his lip into a derisive sneer, then turns away. Whatever game Black wants to play, he won't participate. He orders his drink, his voice steady, composed, cold as always and not at all betraying the turmoil inside him.
What is Black doing here? Severus doesn't believe in coincidences. It's not possible that Sirius Black simply happens to stumble into the same wine bar Severus Snape is attending regularly. There are numerous, possibly hundreds of other wine bars in London.
Well, perhaps not as many as close to Grimmauld Place, Severus concedes.
It's still too unlikely.
He steals another glance at Black who looks far better than the last time he had laid eyes upon him.
Two years ago, on the very same day the battle of Hogwarts had ended, ministry employees had found Black lying without consciousness in the Department of Mysteries, a few feet from the Veil. They had alerted the Aurors, who in turn had taken him to St. Mungo's.
Recovering from a severe injury himself, at that time paralysed from the neck by snake venom that left his body only hesitantly, as if to assert its power over him, Severus had had no other choice to listen to the healer's and nurses gossip.
On his daily visits Harry Potter had never spoken of Sirius Black, carefully avoided to mention him until one day he had asked on behalf of Sirius Black if he would receive him.
The next day Black had been standing at the side of his bed, leaning heavily on a cane, a nurse and Harry Potter waiting just behind him. He had looked so frail … and so damn old. And very sad.
Black had chosen his words carefully. He had delivered his apology like a gentleman, Severus had to give him that. He had not shied responsibility, had not tried to embellish the truth. Severus’ initial plan to let him suffer and beg had evaporated.
Black had not cried, thank God.
Black's voice had still been hoarse, and he had looked like a skeleton. It had helped that Harry Potter was probably jabbing his wand into Black's ribs, and the sobering realisation that everyone from the old days was dead … except Black and himself. They were the only survivors.
He had wanted to hold on to his grudges of course but instead of the beautiful boy Sirius Black once had been, a wrinkly, stooped and gaunt man with greying hair and yellowing teeth stood in front of him. Only the grey eyes had been reminiscent of the past, but otherwise Black had been … unrecognisable.
Severus had lived his entire life in regret and so he had developed an uncanny ability to recognise that sentiment in others. Seeing an apologetic Black full of honest regret had not pleased him half as much as he had thought it would. Instead he had felt merely empty.
Severus Snape had accepted the man's apologies and gratitude.
When he had closed and opened his eyes to signal his forgiveness, Black's face had wrinkled even more, melted into a stupid grimace of pathetic gratefulness. Even his lips had trembled.
Then Potter and the nurse had led Black out of Snape's room and Severus hadn't seen him again-until now.
Within a few moments he devises his plan: he'll finish the glass of wine he ordered, then leave and take position in a side alley and wait. If Black follows him, he can at least eliminate the possibility of a coincidence. He might have apologised but he might also have come to regret humiliating himself in front of Severus.
As he takes the glass with his nicely aged Catalan red, the oak scent blossoming seductively, he bumps into someone standing behind him.
"Sorry," the young man says and doesn't look sorry at all. Severus, who simply wanted to push wordlessly past him, is stunned. The man's eyes are a greenish blue. His thick and black lashes look like eye liner and emphasise the exotic almond shape of his eyes. His teeth are perfect and white and his cheekbones are chiselled, his skin flawless and smooth and golden.
The young man looks at him, then his eyes widen a bit. His grin is endearing and mischievous at the same time.
"My name is Franco," he says. "I'm new in London."
Twenty minutes later Severus has forgotten about his plan. And what if Black is here because of him? Whatever Black plans Severus is fairly sure he can thwart him. Franco sits with his back to Black and cheerfully tells him funny stories about life as a struggling college student. How can someone so beautiful be so entertaining and witty? His voice is youthful, flirty and at some point he gives him a look from beneath his beautiful lashes, fingers caressing the stem of his wine glass.
"Severus," he says, and the tone of his voice has gone a little deeper. "I am sorry to be blunt-be blunt back at me if you like-but do you live close to here?"
Severus needs to clear his voice to be able to speak. "I live around the corner," he manages to say, and he is sure his voice is higher and squeakier than usual. "Just across the square."
"I would never be so forward and invite myself over, but if you were to invite me … I'd love to accept," Franco says. He bites his lower lip nervously and Severus nearly swoons.
He opens his mouth, and after he swallows, says, "I'd be-"
"Sod off, mate."
Out of nowhere Black is standing behind Franco. Why are his hands on Franco's shoulders? Who is he talking to even? He's not looking at Severus … but at Franco.
"What is the meaning of this?"
Black ignores him, and continues to hiss into Franco's ear. "Why don't you run along and try to screw someone else over, luv?"
Franco's face has turned ashen. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he grits out between clenched teeth. "I'm sitting with a friend here, so if you don't mind-"
"Oh, but I do mind!" Black's knuckles on Franco's shoulders have turned white, and Franco is wincing. "This one is off limit for you. In fact if I ever see you again in this bar I am going to punch your pretty little face and hex you into Tuesday, all right, mate?"
Franco doesn't even look at Severus, just pushes his chair back, and mutters, "You fucking arsehole, that's the third John you lost me!"
"Better luck, next time," Black says evenly. Before Franco vanishes into the crowd, Black grabs the lapel of Franco's denim jacket. "Ah-ah-ah! Didn't you forget something?"
Franco mutters another colourful curse, while Black pulls something out of the breast pocket, then he's off. Black without a by your leave simply takes the vacated chair and sits down.
"I hope you didn't think I wasn't aware that Franco was a rent boy," Severus says, quickly regaining his wits, "and I didn't invite you to join me."
"You're welcome," says Black and pushes the vial across the table.
Severus unstoppers it and takes a sniff, then closes it; A powerful and illegal knockout potion.
"Franco isn't a rent boy," Black says, "he chats up johns here, feeds them the potion and then robs their apartments."
Severus doesn't need to ask why Black knows. Black fishes a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one.
“So: long time, no see," Black says. "How have you been?"
Severus leans forward and plucks the cigarette out of Black's mouth, throws it onto the floor and stomps it with the heel of his boot. "As I said, I did not invite you to sit down. I have no interest whatsoever in conversing with you."
Even while he is speaking he already regrets his own words. Not that he likes Black so much better, but his own antagonism bores him. It's been nearly thirty years for fuck's sake.
"A thank you would have been nice, you know," Black says, "a little gratitude."
Black has apologised, has humbled himself sufficiently before him, an annoying voice in his mind reminds him.
"Thank you," Severus says, disbelieving that these are really his words. He blinks.
Did I just really say that?
Black seems to be disbelieving too because his head snaps up. With narrowed eyes he peers into Snape's face to see if there's a sign of irony or a hidden sneer.
Severus gets up. He's actually tired. He came here to meet someone, and all he got was a vicious little thug, who would have knocked him out and robbed him if it weren't for Black of all people. And he, master spy, scheming Slytherin and former Death Eater has let himself duped like a silly old fool.
It's been a long day.
"Have you seen Harry lately?" Black asks suddenly.
"Of course I did, "Snape shoots back. "And you didn't?"
"Why don't you sit back down … and tell me a bit about Harry, then?" Black says, and his voice is oddly small. "Please?"
Severus can't help but feel … vindicated. Without knowing really why, he does sit down again.
"I assumed that you and Potter were close," he says.
Black shrugs. "It's complicated," he says with a grimace.
Severus doesn't say anything to that.
"I heard rumours that you sort of vanished, too," Black says.
"Rumours?"
"You mostly live as a Muggle now."
"I still have my wand."
"You haven't been seen for ages in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley."
"And what is this to you?"
Black shrugs again.
"It's just interesting … is all. Not that I can't understand it."
"You don't understand anything."
At that moment the waitress passes and Black orders a bottle of wine. Some Australian chardonnay.
"Harry speaks very highly of you," Black says, almost morosely and Severus observes every muscle in the man's face to detect any sign of falseness.
It's not in Severus' nature to preen but he can't help noticing the wistful tone in Black's voice, the hint of bitterness.
"He doesn't confide in me … anymore," Black continues. A spark of resentment flashes in his eyes.
"How unfortunate for you," Severus murmurs, not without some residual malice but not quite as spiteful as it would have come out a few years earlier. "Where is your raison d'etre now?"
"He thinks I am responsible for driving you to join the Death Eaters," Black concludes bitterly.
The waitress brings the wine and two glasses and before she can open the bottle, Black snatches it away and pours it into both glasses. The waitress rolls her eyes and leaves.
Severus can't help but feel some warmth stealing into his cold heart. So Potter defends him now, is on his side. Oh, that must hurt Black of course. Suddenly feeling magnanimous he generously tells him a little about the latest developments in the lives of Potter, Weasley and Granger.
It's odd to sit at the same table with Black and amiably share a bottle of wine, and then listen to the man's complaints. It's surreal and somehow Severus feels as if this is all some strange parallel universe and he'll be yanked from it any second. As long as he's still here though he might as well enjoy himself. And that white wine isn't so bad.
Black drinks down his wine (the entire glass in three gulps, the greedy drunkard).
He settles into the chair, sipping at his own wine. He's been a spy for most of his life. He knows how to appear to be drinking, but to stay sober.
*****
"I've always been good at drinking … not like Remy or Jamie. Both of them drank like girls. Already tipshy after sniffing a wine glass … you're pretty good too, Seby. Sebu … Seberus."
"Mmh. I'd drank my own Da under the table when I was fourteen!"
"Did no … !"
"Did!"
"Right on, mate!"
Black reaches over the table and tries to pat Severus on the shoulder. Unfortunately Severus sways, nearly falling from the chair, and Black's hand lands with a thud on the table. A half empty bottle falls over.
The wine bar is except for them nearly empty. Only two figures, the waitress, and the bar tender are leaning against the counter, watching the two drunk wizards, rolling their eyes.
"Another bottle of the Canadian red," Black orders.
"Catalan, idiot! How often do I have to tell you!'
"I said that! Another one of this canatalan Red!"
"Black, you … you cave man!"
"I really shouldn't," the waitress murmurs, "These two really had enough."
The bartender snorts. Before she gets up, he holds her back and walks to the table.
"All right, you two love birds," he says, "Time for you to get a room. We're closing!"
"Liar! It's only … " Severus squints at his bare wrist, "past midnight!"
Black laughs. "Great watch you got 'ere!"
Severus glares. He stands up and pulls up the unresisting Black up, who still giggles like a girl.
"Well, if our money is not desired here, we shall take it somewhere else!"
"Shall take it somewhere else! You heard him!" Black echoes.
"Yeah, yeah, mate, you're scary, see you next week!" The bartender makes a shooing motion.
"Listen to my great mate Shev…Sevvy! He'll hex-"
"Shhhh!" Severus says, demonstratively pressing his index finger onto his lips and then onto Black's lips. "Psht!"
"Psht!" Black agrees.
The bar tender shakes his head and rolls his eyes while ushering the two men out. "Off you go!"
"We're not wanted here, Sev … us!"
"Impertinent … imbeciles!"
"Impotent … infidels!"
"You'd know wouldn't you?"
"Of course I'd know!"
There's a pregnant pause, after that. Behind them the bartender locks the glass doors.
"You make no sense at all," Severus says, almost dreamily. He's leaning his head against something nice-smelling and pillowy which can't be possibly Black's shoulder because he would never ever lean on Black's shoulder.
"I meant I know about the impotent part," Black says. "I know exactly who's impotent here! I'm frequ- coming to this bar for years!"
"So, you're easy." Severus has no idea why he's saying what he's saying.
"I certainly am," Black replies almost proudly.
Severus narrows his eyes. It's too much hassle to turn his head and look directly at Black so he stares up at the starry sky. "How easy … on a scale of one to ten, hm?"
"Preeeetty easy!" Black lets out a hybrid sound between a snort, a cough and a laugh, "on a scale of one to ten, hm … let's see … fifteen. I'd say. Or seventeen!
"You fuck anything that moves, wouldn't you?"
"Absolutely!" Black suddenly throws his arm around Severus, leveraging himself on the wall. His face is so close to Severus' he can see the pores on his nose and his cheeks. Severus can see the dried, flaky bits of skin on Black's lips, he can see the smile tugging at his still-pretty mouth, the huge black pupils and the storm grey of his eyes. What a pretty, pretty man. Too sad that he's the enemy. He'd kiss him if he weren't.
"I am a … shlut," Black declares.
"That's a coincidence," Severus murmurs. His tongue feels so heavy, lolling around in his mouth. "I'll have you know, that's what I am too. I'm not … picky … at all."
"You'll get it up for anyone, wouldn't you?"
Suddenly a large warm hand is on his crotch, pressing and rubbing gently. Snape realises he is hard, and he feels everything. It's a little disconcerting to feel so aroused while being drunk. Usually he wouldn't be able to feel much.
"I'll get it up for Pettigrew even," Severus smirks.
Black flings his hands into the air. "You officially killed my boner!"
"I don't think so," Severus says very slowly and now he presses a hand onto Black's trouser front, leering. "It seems to be very much alive! It's twitching!"
"It's a death twitch!" Black breathes heavily.
"You're hard for me."
"I'd be hard for anyone. Don't be so full of yourself."
Severus leans closer, anticipating with morbid enjoyment how Black will shrink back horrified. Except he doesn't. Black leans closer and closer and then their lips are touching and the moment Severus feels Black's lips on his, he forgets everything around him. Black opens his lips hungrily and lets Severus invade his mouth.
They're kissing.
Kissing!
A tiny alarm bell in Severus' brain goes off. They're no supposed to kiss. He's not supposed to kiss Black, that … beautiful man.
"We're not supposed to do that," he says and tries to push Black off.
"What do you mean?" Black is honestly confused.
A group of teenagers wanders past. "Oy, get a room you two!"
Severus is patient. Not everyone can stomach alcohol as good as he can. Black is heavily inebriated and not as strong. "Black," he says slowly and carefully enunciating. "We cannot kiss. Therefore we must not."
Black kisses him again, and he tastes of expensive red wine and saliva and tobacco and peanuts and sex and heat and … Severus wants to be disgusted but somehow he finds it very to hard to think and tell himself what he should do.
He steadies himself on the wall before he pushes Black away, only this time Black clings onto him.
"We're fucking drunk."
Severus nods. "You are quite drunk!"
"You could have revenge and take advantage of me," Black points out. "And I couldn't do anything. And you'd have your revenge. It would be a win-win situation."
Actually not the worst idea that Black ever had.
"You could take me up to your apartment and have your way with me," Black says, rubbing himself at Severus' crotch. "You'd fuck me, and I'd come on your cock …"
"We must not …" Severus murmurs. Black's filthy words make him dizzy. Must not what-?
He wracks his brain for that thing they must not do, when he feels hot lips pressed against his, then this delicious feeling of a hard cock against him, and strong hands cradling his head.
Another group of people is turning around the corner.
"Let's go up," Black urges, and Severus doesn't even remember to point out that Black has his own place. Leaning on Black and supporting him at the same time, he says, even more carefully. "You know full well, Black, why we will not go up to my place!"
"Are you two still here?"
It's the waitress with the bartender behind her. "Are you guys all right there? You look pretty smashed!"
Severus draws himself up to his full height.
"You'd do well to watch your mouth, young lady! I am still a paying customer!"
"Pishposh! Come on, let's go, I'll let you in!"
"Let you in?"
"Snape is my neighbour," the waitress says. She looks at Black askance. "I'm Inga, and you are?"
"Sirius Black," Black murmurs and Severus is beside himself with exasperation.
"Don't tell her who you are, Black!"
"Why ever not?"
Inga is unfazed. "Sirius, huh? Are you guys making these names up?"
"Yes."
"No."
"What happened to vigilance, Black! And the statue of shecreshy?"
Inga opens the heavy double winged entrance door and puts on the light in the hallway. "If I'd known that it takes only two bottles of red to get you in this state I'd have kicked you out after your first glass!" She shakes her head.
They slowly walk up the stairs, and Severus feels Black fondling his bum all the while.
"Fuck, Severus, do you have to live on the fifth floor with no elevator?" Black wheezes.
Inga patiently goes up with them although she lives on the second floor, fishes for Severus' keys and opens the creaking door for them, then impatiently pushes both of them in.
"It's about time you're getting any," she smirks at Severus, and then is gone.
Severus stumbles into the bed room and slides down the wall. Black slides with him and they both sit on the floor.
Suddenly the madness of what is happening, what is about to happen, occurs to Severus. He rubs his face with both hands, willing himself to clear his head.
"You should go home," he says.
*****
Six o'clock.
When his alarm goes off, he pulls a pillow over his head. To turn off the alarm would mean he'd have to move his head and that might kill him.
A minute later he wakes up again because he is being suffocated. He could fight it of course but why fight death? Death comes to everyone, sooner or later. To some it even comes twice.
"Hang on," a familiar voice says, tickling the hair on his neck.
"Wha … ?" Severus manages to croak out. Someone is in bed with him. He's waiting for panic to settle in, adrenaline to course through his veins but his body is too busy being hung over.
"Just trying to turn off your fucking alarm!"
Black! Black is in his bed and they're both naked, and oh fuck. Of all men he had to go and fuck Black.
If Severus could move his hands he'd bury his head in them. He'd wring Black's neck. Or slap himself.
"Off … me," he says. Black is, despite his gaunt frame, heavy.
Black does get off him, but insists on scurrying close to him, and to press his bum against his side. First it seems he's shifting a bit to find a more comfortable position in the admittedly narrow bed. Then his rubbing becomes insistent, and Severus can't help but acknowledge the dull tugging ache in his cock.
He feels thirsty and in pain and slightly nauseous and he really shouldn't be that aroused, but if he doesn't fuck Black right now he thinks he is going to die or explode or both.
Finally he carefully turns to his side as well and spoons Black. Black doesn't object, but rounds his back, and pulls his legs up, makes himself spoon-able.
They have obviously already fucked so what's the damage in doing it again? Black definitely seems to be eager, pressing his firm bum back, all the while moaning under his breath.
With shaking fingers Severus traces Black's flanks, caresses the rib cage. Every touch a silent question he doesn't dare to ask.
Black's breath hitches.
"Yes … oh, yes please," he whispers.
When he lets his fingers wander higher he realises that Black is pinching and pulling his own nipples.
Although the movement nearly kills him, driving red hot spikes of pain into his brain, Severus opens the drawer of his night stand and fumbles for the lube, hastily applies it onto his fingers, then pushes it into Black's excited, twitching hole.
"Fuck, yes!" Black moans.
He turns onto his stomach and with both hands spreads his own cheeks so Severus can finger fuck him open.
"Fuck, yes," says Black again, and pushes his arse up, wriggling it, so that Snape's fingers are really deep in there.
"Fuck me now," Black pants and Severus for once obeys Black's orders. That moment when he slides his cock into Black's twitching hole he feels his mind falls apart and dissolves in utter bliss. He'd never felt that perfect before, that right. Black makes groaning noises and pushes back, clawing the sheets.
"Fuck!" Black says. Or maybe it's him saying it. Not that it makes any difference.
They both immediately fall into a perfect rhythm, as if they'd been doing this all life long. There is no telling where one begins and where the other ends, they're one.
"Please," Black begs, and Severus need not to ask what it is that Black needs so urgently. He pulls Black up, takes his hips and then bends his own knees so that when he fucks Black, his cock is slightly angled upwards. The first three or four strokes Black murmurs appreciatively, lets out a hoarse little laugh. Snape can see the muscular buttocks tense.
Then he pushes in again and this time, he feels Black constricting around him, and hears him crying out.
"Fuck, yes, there!" Impatiently Black pushes back, seeks to take Severus' entire cock in.
Severus lets go of one of Black's hips and reaches around to fondle Sirius' cock. He is not surprised to find it hot, heavy and iron hard, ready to come, the glans sticky with pre-come.
"Oh God," Black whines, his voice so fucking raw and needy. Severus pushes in again, and then Black's cock hardens even more and twitches, and Black is crying out, heedless of Silencing charms or of neighbours. His head thrown back in ecstasy, his wailing doesn't seem to end, and he rocks back against Severus, and Severus tumbles over the edge, too, his cock milked by Black's convulsions.
Everything whitens out, the pain in his head, the nausea in his stomach, the dryness in his throat is all but forgotten, all he knows in this moment is Sirius, and Sirius only.
They fall together, return slowly from their high, both of them gasping, shaking.
"I'm too old for this," Severus wants to say but he only manages to wheeze and sound the more pathetic. Black doesn't say anything but he only presses his hot, sweaty face against Severus jaw and nuzzles him.
Some of the discomfort of being hungover returns and they don't fall asleep immediately. After some minutes Severus gets up and fetches water from the kitchen, some food-leftover, stale bread and potatoes with dill and some cold pasta, but they both devour it hungrily, then wash it down with Sober Up potion.
They're mostly silent, because whatever they say might be the wrong thing to say. Both of them wait until the other speaks first.
Of course it's Black in the end who breaks the silence.
"You have a telly. In your bedroom," he points out inanely. Severus is too glad that he said something, and something so neutral, he doesn't roll his eyes or insult Black's intelligence or conversational skills or lack of thereof. Besides, he thinks, he has learned a lot in the recent years and is a social and pleasant person these days.
Some of the lovers he has taken after the war have taught him the art of small talk and polite conversation.
So he says, after wracking his brain for a suitable response, "I have a DVD player too."
"And DVD's," he adds belatedly.
Black shifts beside him, then with his foot rubs his calf up and down. It feels very nice, Severus notices.
"Don't be so tense," Black says, "knowing you, you're beating yourself up over this, making things more complicated than they are."
"Am I?" Severus asks blankly.
"I can see that you're really nervous and twitchy."
Severus looks at Black who is sitting up and staring down on him with these curious dog-eyes.
"We fucked," Black says. "I don't have a problem with that. You're reasonably good looking, and we seem to comply in bed, seem to be sexually in tune."
"I'm reasonably good looking," Severus is mildly surprised by this.
"All right," concedes Black, misunderstanding his tone, "you're very good looking."
Black puts a hand onto Severus' nipple and flicks it lightly then bites it. "You're a good fuck. So am I, right?"
Severus has to agree. Just like that, he feels at ease.
Surprisingly enough they begin talking about other things. Black asks why Severus got himself an apartment in this area, they talk about rental prices in Muggle London and rental prices in Diagon Alley, and how these two are more related, after the war.
Severus finds himself strangely open. He tells Black all sorts of things about himself. Nothing big, no deep secrets, but still-it's still Black he is conversing with.
The Wizarding world is shifting and changing. He thinks the change is good for the young people. They enjoy the freedom that the end of the war brought, but do remember the dark times, and it makes them earnest, determined but also hungry for fun and a bit more hedonistic than the generation before.
Severus doesn't disapprove but he feels out of place, feels like he shouldn't take up space in this new world.
"It's a new world. It's their new world," he says.
"And we're the dinosaurs," Black says. "We remind them of the past … so … away with us!"
"Maybe we were not supposed to survive," Severus muses.
“Yeah, well, but we did,” Black murmurs, playing with Severus' dark nipples. One of his reasons to always wear the thick woolen robes over his linen was that he has always had prominent, sensitive nipples, and as a teenager he had been painfully conscious of them. He half-heartedly shoves Black's head away but Black only laughs and bites Severus' other nipple, then looks up at Severus with glittering eyes, the question in them unmistakeable.
"Again?" Severus rolls his eyes in his dramatic fashion and clucks his tongue.
He watches Black licking and sucking both of his nipples, and of course Severus is panting and gasping after a short while. He feels Black fingers stroking his cleft and he spreads his legs and pushes up against Black's fingers.
Black begins to fondle him in earnest.
Soon, very soon Severus is ready and Black lines his cock up and slides slowly in.
"That all right?"
"Yes," says Severus, who doesn't bottom that often to be completely at ease with it.
Black moves his hips a bit forward then pulls back, until he's nearly out of his hole then pushes in again
"Good," Severus praises him, "very good."
"I quite like that myself," Black says.
"You can go a bit deeper," Severus says, "and … angle it up a little bit."
Black moves.
"Like this?"
"Almost, a little harder, deeper."
Severus grabs his knees and pulls his legs up.
Black tries again. And again. Then he twists his hips a little and it's absolutely perfect.
"Oh yes," Severus feels boneless with pleasure. "So good."
Black keeps doing that, and while they're both lazily fucking they continue talking, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
Black strokes Severus cock. "Nice cock," he says and smirks, thrusting.
"So I've been told."
Black has to pour more lube on his cock, to keep going. “Do you think we can fuck away our past?”
“Let's try it,” Severus suggests, “we can always evaluate the outcome … later.”
“Good idea,” Black agrees and pushes forwad again as if he can't get enough of Severus' heat.
“I usually … have good ideas,” Severus pants. He has to admit, Black really knows how to fuck.
"I could do this forever," Black says hoarsely. Severus clenches, and Black whines.
"Be my guest."
It feels so wonderful to fuck like this. Severus feels like lying on his back in the ocean, letting himself carried by slow, warm waves. Black slides in and out, slowly.
It's not this hurried, frenzied chase, not blind, greedy fucking … it's so sweet and delicious and perfect. After a long period of slow thrusts, Black says finally: "I want to come now … if you're all right with that … " his voice is thick with lust, "that rippling motion your arse does … it's fucking killing me!"
"Hm," Severus manages to hum. "I can feel your cock twitching inside me!"
Black's sweat is dripping down onto his own forehead. He has to still now between thrusts, and wait a little until he can continue.
Then Black puts his back into it now, sets a fast pace, and Severus goes with him, lets him lead like this, pushing back and clenching as hard as he can, just to feel more of this beautiful, hard cock. Slowly they're spiralling towards in a maelstrom of pleasure, then the current grips them and these last moments are wild and beautiful and breathless.
When Black delivers another perfect thrust, Severus comes and Black stays inside, rides it out with Severus before he allows himself to come. Severus moans, revelling in making Black come undone. Black is actually pleading and whining.
Then he pushes in a last time and shudders.
"Jesus Fucking Christ," Black wheezes, letting himself fall beside Severus. "That … fantastic!" Snape's cracks an eye open and takes Black flushed face in. He looks years younger, his eyes sparkling, his lips full. Black laughs happily, then grabs Severus' face and kisses it soundly.
Severus is too tired to speak or to move so he only curls one corner of his upper lip up, before he drifts off to post coital sleep.
*****
If Sirius would have left in the morning, it would have all been clear and logical: a drunken one night stand. Even as he stays for a late meal in the afternoon (they order in) and they eat their food again in bed (none of them is bothered by the crumbs in the bed at this stage) and watch some episodes of one of these new Wizarding shows, and even when Snape allows him to take a shower at his place and lends him some of his own clothing, it's still … clear.
Maybe that round of oral sex in front of the fireplace in the early evening changes things? It's not about coming (in fact it takes a long time until one of them gets it up, after their exhausting activities from last night) but suckling at Snape's lovely cock while thrusting very slowly into his mouth feels so perfect, and Sirius' initial plan to go home before five o'clock dissolves like snow in the sun.
Nobody can withstand Snape's mouth.
The rug is soft enough, no doubt chosen to ease the discomfort of kneeling in front of the Floo for Snape's bony, thin knees, and the fire is nice and warm.
The sex is great. There is simply no other way to put it. It surprises Sirius, but then again, maybe not.
When they finally come, it's a slow, golden heat, pouring over them. Sirius shoots and not much comes out, but Snape laps greedily at it. Then Snape comes, trembling, and Sirius drinks the few droplets down.
And of course, they fall asleep afterward.
Much later Sirius wakes up; he's disoriented, but then sees Snape in a dressing gown, walking around. He moves to get up, but Snape grips his hand and helps him up.
"You may as well stay here and sleep, it's past midnight," he says.
So Sirius stays.
The next morning comes around. Snape rises to take a shower and Sirius, uninvited joins him. Snape doesn't kick him out, but instead they start kissing under the shower until they're half hard again.
Later they have breakfast in the kitchen, read the newspapers and find it so easy to talk (in all fairness, Sirius does most of the talking but Snape's sardonic jokes are priceless) and then Sirius thinks he has to at least help him to clean up a little bit-of course the place is a mess after their sordid activities.
He comes across a book that Snape is reading, and remembers that his father read the same book, and they start talking about that as well, and suddenly it's 11am again but Snape feels a little sleepy and Sirius could think of nothing better than to take a little nap, and well, yes. It's pretty clear how that ends. A nap, indeed.
And finally they reach Sunday night.
Sirius has spent the entire weekend fucking Snape. And he's having the best time of his life. Not that that's difficult to achieve but he can't remember ever having felt so carefree.
He has troubles with his new life. He has to come to terms with his past, has to think about his future, has to find his place as Hermione puts it. Harry and Ron talk to him about psychotherapy. He has to find something to do with his life, as everyone keeps telling him. Harry thinks, a job will do him good. Ron suggests he could take up a hobby.
It's not that he's not been thinking about these things. In a way his life is often the continuation of his existence/non-existence behind the veil-just drifting aimlessly, from day to day, night to night. He doesn't want that of course.
He doesn't know what he wants. Everyone expects him to come up with some sort of purpose, with a grand scheme or goal, but at the moment Sirius would like to not think about it. Lounging about in Snape's excitingly different flat distracts him from all these pressing issues and he enjoys that. Snape never tries to poke around in his mind, never suggests hobbies or jobs or therapies. Snape couldn't care less about Sirius' well being and the only thing he needs from him is his cock and his arse. It makes things simple and straightforward and Sirius feels at ease with that.
Once he has found out that Snape not only doesn't mind, but actually likes Padfoot, he changes into Padfoot often and explores the flat.
Of course he has to go home at some point but the thought of returning to Grimmauld Place right now is pretty unpleasant. The house looks much better now, and is actually quite pretty after an army of house elves worked on it for a month, but every time he thinks of leaving Snape's cosy flat, he feels his heart sinking a little.
Snape never tells him to leave.
Not once has he suggested since they stumbled into the hallway on Friday, that he might take off. Somehow surprising. In a corner of his mind, Sirius would have thought, Snape would fuck him, then kick him out, with grim triumph in his black eyes.
Instead, Snape is downright amiable (compared to his usual behaviour anyway).
And suddenly, Sirius realises, one of them has to say something. It's not all right anymore to just leave. After three days of lolling about together, mostly in horizontal position, this is not a one night stand any longer, and can't be treated as such.
It's an in-between thing.
He snaps back to the present when he feels Snape's gaze on him. It's been ten minutes since he last said something, and he's been looking at him ever since.
"Do you have someone?" Sirius asks. "I mean a permanent partner, or so? A … boyfriend? Or …?"
Snape blinks, then shakes his head.
"Me neither," he says.
That sounds as if he's offering a relationship, and he can see the change in Snape's features immediately, the slight paling, the thick eye brows drawing together-he is displeased.
He shouldn't have said anything.
"We're good together," he says, "I mean, not in a relationship!" he hastily adds, as he realises how inane he sounds. "Haha-can you imagine?"
Snape only continues looking at him, then after a pause says: "No, I can't imagine that either."
These words feel somewhat heavier than Sirius expected.
Bravely he ploughs on.
"Well, yes, but I mean we have great sex! I think it would be a waste not to have sex while we don't have anyone else anyway."
That actually makes sense.
Right?
Snape seems to think so because he nods. Thank God. "There is no reason why we shouldn't fuck now and then."
"Let's say, we just have fun … and as soon as one of us has someone else, like a real partner, we stop. And seeing as it's unlikely that we two fall in love with each other … it won't cause any problems, right?"
And as if on cue both of them can't help sniggering.
"Can you imagine?" Sirius says. "Us two visiting Harry, holding hands?" He starts laughing out loudly, and Snape can't suppress a head shake and a smirk.
"We could decide to move together and shop … er, what do couples buy together? Something like tea cups?" he adds.
"Curtains!" Sirius rolls around laughing. "Imagine Kreacher's face seeing us decorating the bedroom together."
"Oh, I absolutely need that Dead Salmon pink hue for my window sills! It's gorgeous!" mimics Snape, and his impression of the flamboyant gay man is so perfect, Sirius nearly falls from the bed with laughter.
"Oh, cross stitched cushions!" he calls out. "Paintings of cats and dogs!"
"They'll fit perfectly with my knitted toilet seat warmers," Snape agrees.
Sirius leans forward and kisses Snape and so it happens that Sirius stays also Sunday in Snape's bed.
*****
They fuck how often, how long and in whichever way they want. They're not afraid in asking things from each other, in telling each other exactly what they like or don't like. Since this isn't a relationship, feelings are irrelevant and thus can't be hurt. There is no need to be considerate, which is a great relief for both-they're both not very good at being considerate, each for their own reasons.
Sirius loves Snape's mouth. And his arse. And his cock. He loves that Snape whines and groans when he takes Sirius' cock, as if his cock is the biggest he's ever taken. He loves that Snape doesn't mind him talking during sex (many of his lovers did) and that he even eggs him on sometimes. He loves that when Snape fucks him, he completely gives himself to the act, that he loves to fuck and to be fucked and enjoys both thoroughly.
It never hurts when Snape takes him, as if … as if his body opens himself up for Snape, even when the preparation is hasty. Apart from that Sirius loves that Snape likes to play records afterwards: he has a record player in his bedroom!
Snape is, true to his nature, more experimental. He wants to try different, at times quite acrobatic positions, buys toys and inserts various objects into his own and Sirius' anus to their mutual pleasure. He researches rare potions, has no qualms at all to wear black nylon stockings, try a potion that turns his bits female for an hour (but after that never again because they find out that the change is rather time consuming and painful and for an hour of fucking three hours of pain are not justifiable).
Because this is not about romance or love they can make demands and negotiate shamelessly-like the one time when Sirius wants them to visit a public toilet and watch Snape suck off stranger's cocks. Or that time when Snape asks Sirius to wear nothing but an exquisite brocade corset.
Once they take a girl home, then another time a man. In a relationship these games could become an issue but the way things are between them, there is no need to worry.
Yes, the sex is great. And the rest is fun too.
Part Two
Author: carolinelamb
Pairing(s)/character(s): Sirius Black/Severus Snape, Highlight to read*Hermione/Pansy,*
Rating: NC-17
Prompt #: 14 (by sookie_marsters)
Word count: ~14.170
Summary: After a chance meeting at a muggle bar the two rivals manage to get drunk and fall into bed together. They agree on a "just sex" relationship but what happens when the walls start falling down and Sirius and Severus start actually liking each other?
Warnings: Highlight to read*Rimming, oral, Bottom!Snape, Bottom!Sirius, descriptions of alcohol intake and the resulting loss of inhibitions,*
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and their characters belong to JKR and her affiliates. I, the author, make no profit.
A/N: Thank you, dear Beta for your help! All remaining mistakes are mine! Thank you, dear Mods for hosting this fest and bring back Sirius Black to life (and love ;)!
01.
Sirius Black greets him politely, with a nod of his head, that even looks like a small bow. He behaves as if they are merely acquaintances whose relationship is based on mutual respect. Severus waits for the onset of his usual rage, grief and hatred that has often led him to lose his control in the past.
Disappointingly nothing happens. All he can feel is disinterest coupled with a vague dislike (although some part of his brain still notes, that Black looks better now, that the years in freedom have been kind to him, and that he has recovered just fine from being dead).
Severus curls the right corner of his lip into a derisive sneer, then turns away. Whatever game Black wants to play, he won't participate. He orders his drink, his voice steady, composed, cold as always and not at all betraying the turmoil inside him.
What is Black doing here? Severus doesn't believe in coincidences. It's not possible that Sirius Black simply happens to stumble into the same wine bar Severus Snape is attending regularly. There are numerous, possibly hundreds of other wine bars in London.
Well, perhaps not as many as close to Grimmauld Place, Severus concedes.
It's still too unlikely.
He steals another glance at Black who looks far better than the last time he had laid eyes upon him.
Two years ago, on the very same day the battle of Hogwarts had ended, ministry employees had found Black lying without consciousness in the Department of Mysteries, a few feet from the Veil. They had alerted the Aurors, who in turn had taken him to St. Mungo's.
Recovering from a severe injury himself, at that time paralysed from the neck by snake venom that left his body only hesitantly, as if to assert its power over him, Severus had had no other choice to listen to the healer's and nurses gossip.
On his daily visits Harry Potter had never spoken of Sirius Black, carefully avoided to mention him until one day he had asked on behalf of Sirius Black if he would receive him.
The next day Black had been standing at the side of his bed, leaning heavily on a cane, a nurse and Harry Potter waiting just behind him. He had looked so frail … and so damn old. And very sad.
Black had chosen his words carefully. He had delivered his apology like a gentleman, Severus had to give him that. He had not shied responsibility, had not tried to embellish the truth. Severus’ initial plan to let him suffer and beg had evaporated.
Black had not cried, thank God.
Black's voice had still been hoarse, and he had looked like a skeleton. It had helped that Harry Potter was probably jabbing his wand into Black's ribs, and the sobering realisation that everyone from the old days was dead … except Black and himself. They were the only survivors.
He had wanted to hold on to his grudges of course but instead of the beautiful boy Sirius Black once had been, a wrinkly, stooped and gaunt man with greying hair and yellowing teeth stood in front of him. Only the grey eyes had been reminiscent of the past, but otherwise Black had been … unrecognisable.
Severus had lived his entire life in regret and so he had developed an uncanny ability to recognise that sentiment in others. Seeing an apologetic Black full of honest regret had not pleased him half as much as he had thought it would. Instead he had felt merely empty.
Severus Snape had accepted the man's apologies and gratitude.
When he had closed and opened his eyes to signal his forgiveness, Black's face had wrinkled even more, melted into a stupid grimace of pathetic gratefulness. Even his lips had trembled.
Then Potter and the nurse had led Black out of Snape's room and Severus hadn't seen him again-until now.
Within a few moments he devises his plan: he'll finish the glass of wine he ordered, then leave and take position in a side alley and wait. If Black follows him, he can at least eliminate the possibility of a coincidence. He might have apologised but he might also have come to regret humiliating himself in front of Severus.
As he takes the glass with his nicely aged Catalan red, the oak scent blossoming seductively, he bumps into someone standing behind him.
"Sorry," the young man says and doesn't look sorry at all. Severus, who simply wanted to push wordlessly past him, is stunned. The man's eyes are a greenish blue. His thick and black lashes look like eye liner and emphasise the exotic almond shape of his eyes. His teeth are perfect and white and his cheekbones are chiselled, his skin flawless and smooth and golden.
The young man looks at him, then his eyes widen a bit. His grin is endearing and mischievous at the same time.
"My name is Franco," he says. "I'm new in London."
Twenty minutes later Severus has forgotten about his plan. And what if Black is here because of him? Whatever Black plans Severus is fairly sure he can thwart him. Franco sits with his back to Black and cheerfully tells him funny stories about life as a struggling college student. How can someone so beautiful be so entertaining and witty? His voice is youthful, flirty and at some point he gives him a look from beneath his beautiful lashes, fingers caressing the stem of his wine glass.
"Severus," he says, and the tone of his voice has gone a little deeper. "I am sorry to be blunt-be blunt back at me if you like-but do you live close to here?"
Severus needs to clear his voice to be able to speak. "I live around the corner," he manages to say, and he is sure his voice is higher and squeakier than usual. "Just across the square."
"I would never be so forward and invite myself over, but if you were to invite me … I'd love to accept," Franco says. He bites his lower lip nervously and Severus nearly swoons.
He opens his mouth, and after he swallows, says, "I'd be-"
"Sod off, mate."
Out of nowhere Black is standing behind Franco. Why are his hands on Franco's shoulders? Who is he talking to even? He's not looking at Severus … but at Franco.
"What is the meaning of this?"
Black ignores him, and continues to hiss into Franco's ear. "Why don't you run along and try to screw someone else over, luv?"
Franco's face has turned ashen. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he grits out between clenched teeth. "I'm sitting with a friend here, so if you don't mind-"
"Oh, but I do mind!" Black's knuckles on Franco's shoulders have turned white, and Franco is wincing. "This one is off limit for you. In fact if I ever see you again in this bar I am going to punch your pretty little face and hex you into Tuesday, all right, mate?"
Franco doesn't even look at Severus, just pushes his chair back, and mutters, "You fucking arsehole, that's the third John you lost me!"
"Better luck, next time," Black says evenly. Before Franco vanishes into the crowd, Black grabs the lapel of Franco's denim jacket. "Ah-ah-ah! Didn't you forget something?"
Franco mutters another colourful curse, while Black pulls something out of the breast pocket, then he's off. Black without a by your leave simply takes the vacated chair and sits down.
"I hope you didn't think I wasn't aware that Franco was a rent boy," Severus says, quickly regaining his wits, "and I didn't invite you to join me."
"You're welcome," says Black and pushes the vial across the table.
Severus unstoppers it and takes a sniff, then closes it; A powerful and illegal knockout potion.
"Franco isn't a rent boy," Black says, "he chats up johns here, feeds them the potion and then robs their apartments."
Severus doesn't need to ask why Black knows. Black fishes a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one.
“So: long time, no see," Black says. "How have you been?"
Severus leans forward and plucks the cigarette out of Black's mouth, throws it onto the floor and stomps it with the heel of his boot. "As I said, I did not invite you to sit down. I have no interest whatsoever in conversing with you."
Even while he is speaking he already regrets his own words. Not that he likes Black so much better, but his own antagonism bores him. It's been nearly thirty years for fuck's sake.
"A thank you would have been nice, you know," Black says, "a little gratitude."
Black has apologised, has humbled himself sufficiently before him, an annoying voice in his mind reminds him.
"Thank you," Severus says, disbelieving that these are really his words. He blinks.
Did I just really say that?
Black seems to be disbelieving too because his head snaps up. With narrowed eyes he peers into Snape's face to see if there's a sign of irony or a hidden sneer.
Severus gets up. He's actually tired. He came here to meet someone, and all he got was a vicious little thug, who would have knocked him out and robbed him if it weren't for Black of all people. And he, master spy, scheming Slytherin and former Death Eater has let himself duped like a silly old fool.
It's been a long day.
"Have you seen Harry lately?" Black asks suddenly.
"Of course I did, "Snape shoots back. "And you didn't?"
"Why don't you sit back down … and tell me a bit about Harry, then?" Black says, and his voice is oddly small. "Please?"
Severus can't help but feel … vindicated. Without knowing really why, he does sit down again.
"I assumed that you and Potter were close," he says.
Black shrugs. "It's complicated," he says with a grimace.
Severus doesn't say anything to that.
"I heard rumours that you sort of vanished, too," Black says.
"Rumours?"
"You mostly live as a Muggle now."
"I still have my wand."
"You haven't been seen for ages in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley."
"And what is this to you?"
Black shrugs again.
"It's just interesting … is all. Not that I can't understand it."
"You don't understand anything."
At that moment the waitress passes and Black orders a bottle of wine. Some Australian chardonnay.
"Harry speaks very highly of you," Black says, almost morosely and Severus observes every muscle in the man's face to detect any sign of falseness.
It's not in Severus' nature to preen but he can't help noticing the wistful tone in Black's voice, the hint of bitterness.
"He doesn't confide in me … anymore," Black continues. A spark of resentment flashes in his eyes.
"How unfortunate for you," Severus murmurs, not without some residual malice but not quite as spiteful as it would have come out a few years earlier. "Where is your raison d'etre now?"
"He thinks I am responsible for driving you to join the Death Eaters," Black concludes bitterly.
The waitress brings the wine and two glasses and before she can open the bottle, Black snatches it away and pours it into both glasses. The waitress rolls her eyes and leaves.
Severus can't help but feel some warmth stealing into his cold heart. So Potter defends him now, is on his side. Oh, that must hurt Black of course. Suddenly feeling magnanimous he generously tells him a little about the latest developments in the lives of Potter, Weasley and Granger.
It's odd to sit at the same table with Black and amiably share a bottle of wine, and then listen to the man's complaints. It's surreal and somehow Severus feels as if this is all some strange parallel universe and he'll be yanked from it any second. As long as he's still here though he might as well enjoy himself. And that white wine isn't so bad.
Black drinks down his wine (the entire glass in three gulps, the greedy drunkard).
He settles into the chair, sipping at his own wine. He's been a spy for most of his life. He knows how to appear to be drinking, but to stay sober.
*****
"I've always been good at drinking … not like Remy or Jamie. Both of them drank like girls. Already tipshy after sniffing a wine glass … you're pretty good too, Seby. Sebu … Seberus."
"Mmh. I'd drank my own Da under the table when I was fourteen!"
"Did no … !"
"Did!"
"Right on, mate!"
Black reaches over the table and tries to pat Severus on the shoulder. Unfortunately Severus sways, nearly falling from the chair, and Black's hand lands with a thud on the table. A half empty bottle falls over.
The wine bar is except for them nearly empty. Only two figures, the waitress, and the bar tender are leaning against the counter, watching the two drunk wizards, rolling their eyes.
"Another bottle of the Canadian red," Black orders.
"Catalan, idiot! How often do I have to tell you!'
"I said that! Another one of this canatalan Red!"
"Black, you … you cave man!"
"I really shouldn't," the waitress murmurs, "These two really had enough."
The bartender snorts. Before she gets up, he holds her back and walks to the table.
"All right, you two love birds," he says, "Time for you to get a room. We're closing!"
"Liar! It's only … " Severus squints at his bare wrist, "past midnight!"
Black laughs. "Great watch you got 'ere!"
Severus glares. He stands up and pulls up the unresisting Black up, who still giggles like a girl.
"Well, if our money is not desired here, we shall take it somewhere else!"
"Shall take it somewhere else! You heard him!" Black echoes.
"Yeah, yeah, mate, you're scary, see you next week!" The bartender makes a shooing motion.
"Listen to my great mate Shev…Sevvy! He'll hex-"
"Shhhh!" Severus says, demonstratively pressing his index finger onto his lips and then onto Black's lips. "Psht!"
"Psht!" Black agrees.
The bar tender shakes his head and rolls his eyes while ushering the two men out. "Off you go!"
"We're not wanted here, Sev … us!"
"Impertinent … imbeciles!"
"Impotent … infidels!"
"You'd know wouldn't you?"
"Of course I'd know!"
There's a pregnant pause, after that. Behind them the bartender locks the glass doors.
"You make no sense at all," Severus says, almost dreamily. He's leaning his head against something nice-smelling and pillowy which can't be possibly Black's shoulder because he would never ever lean on Black's shoulder.
"I meant I know about the impotent part," Black says. "I know exactly who's impotent here! I'm frequ- coming to this bar for years!"
"So, you're easy." Severus has no idea why he's saying what he's saying.
"I certainly am," Black replies almost proudly.
Severus narrows his eyes. It's too much hassle to turn his head and look directly at Black so he stares up at the starry sky. "How easy … on a scale of one to ten, hm?"
"Preeeetty easy!" Black lets out a hybrid sound between a snort, a cough and a laugh, "on a scale of one to ten, hm … let's see … fifteen. I'd say. Or seventeen!
"You fuck anything that moves, wouldn't you?"
"Absolutely!" Black suddenly throws his arm around Severus, leveraging himself on the wall. His face is so close to Severus' he can see the pores on his nose and his cheeks. Severus can see the dried, flaky bits of skin on Black's lips, he can see the smile tugging at his still-pretty mouth, the huge black pupils and the storm grey of his eyes. What a pretty, pretty man. Too sad that he's the enemy. He'd kiss him if he weren't.
"I am a … shlut," Black declares.
"That's a coincidence," Severus murmurs. His tongue feels so heavy, lolling around in his mouth. "I'll have you know, that's what I am too. I'm not … picky … at all."
"You'll get it up for anyone, wouldn't you?"
Suddenly a large warm hand is on his crotch, pressing and rubbing gently. Snape realises he is hard, and he feels everything. It's a little disconcerting to feel so aroused while being drunk. Usually he wouldn't be able to feel much.
"I'll get it up for Pettigrew even," Severus smirks.
Black flings his hands into the air. "You officially killed my boner!"
"I don't think so," Severus says very slowly and now he presses a hand onto Black's trouser front, leering. "It seems to be very much alive! It's twitching!"
"It's a death twitch!" Black breathes heavily.
"You're hard for me."
"I'd be hard for anyone. Don't be so full of yourself."
Severus leans closer, anticipating with morbid enjoyment how Black will shrink back horrified. Except he doesn't. Black leans closer and closer and then their lips are touching and the moment Severus feels Black's lips on his, he forgets everything around him. Black opens his lips hungrily and lets Severus invade his mouth.
They're kissing.
Kissing!
A tiny alarm bell in Severus' brain goes off. They're no supposed to kiss. He's not supposed to kiss Black, that … beautiful man.
"We're not supposed to do that," he says and tries to push Black off.
"What do you mean?" Black is honestly confused.
A group of teenagers wanders past. "Oy, get a room you two!"
Severus is patient. Not everyone can stomach alcohol as good as he can. Black is heavily inebriated and not as strong. "Black," he says slowly and carefully enunciating. "We cannot kiss. Therefore we must not."
Black kisses him again, and he tastes of expensive red wine and saliva and tobacco and peanuts and sex and heat and … Severus wants to be disgusted but somehow he finds it very to hard to think and tell himself what he should do.
He steadies himself on the wall before he pushes Black away, only this time Black clings onto him.
"We're fucking drunk."
Severus nods. "You are quite drunk!"
"You could have revenge and take advantage of me," Black points out. "And I couldn't do anything. And you'd have your revenge. It would be a win-win situation."
Actually not the worst idea that Black ever had.
"You could take me up to your apartment and have your way with me," Black says, rubbing himself at Severus' crotch. "You'd fuck me, and I'd come on your cock …"
"We must not …" Severus murmurs. Black's filthy words make him dizzy. Must not what-?
He wracks his brain for that thing they must not do, when he feels hot lips pressed against his, then this delicious feeling of a hard cock against him, and strong hands cradling his head.
Another group of people is turning around the corner.
"Let's go up," Black urges, and Severus doesn't even remember to point out that Black has his own place. Leaning on Black and supporting him at the same time, he says, even more carefully. "You know full well, Black, why we will not go up to my place!"
"Are you two still here?"
It's the waitress with the bartender behind her. "Are you guys all right there? You look pretty smashed!"
Severus draws himself up to his full height.
"You'd do well to watch your mouth, young lady! I am still a paying customer!"
"Pishposh! Come on, let's go, I'll let you in!"
"Let you in?"
"Snape is my neighbour," the waitress says. She looks at Black askance. "I'm Inga, and you are?"
"Sirius Black," Black murmurs and Severus is beside himself with exasperation.
"Don't tell her who you are, Black!"
"Why ever not?"
Inga is unfazed. "Sirius, huh? Are you guys making these names up?"
"Yes."
"No."
"What happened to vigilance, Black! And the statue of shecreshy?"
Inga opens the heavy double winged entrance door and puts on the light in the hallway. "If I'd known that it takes only two bottles of red to get you in this state I'd have kicked you out after your first glass!" She shakes her head.
They slowly walk up the stairs, and Severus feels Black fondling his bum all the while.
"Fuck, Severus, do you have to live on the fifth floor with no elevator?" Black wheezes.
Inga patiently goes up with them although she lives on the second floor, fishes for Severus' keys and opens the creaking door for them, then impatiently pushes both of them in.
"It's about time you're getting any," she smirks at Severus, and then is gone.
Severus stumbles into the bed room and slides down the wall. Black slides with him and they both sit on the floor.
Suddenly the madness of what is happening, what is about to happen, occurs to Severus. He rubs his face with both hands, willing himself to clear his head.
"You should go home," he says.
*****
Six o'clock.
When his alarm goes off, he pulls a pillow over his head. To turn off the alarm would mean he'd have to move his head and that might kill him.
A minute later he wakes up again because he is being suffocated. He could fight it of course but why fight death? Death comes to everyone, sooner or later. To some it even comes twice.
"Hang on," a familiar voice says, tickling the hair on his neck.
"Wha … ?" Severus manages to croak out. Someone is in bed with him. He's waiting for panic to settle in, adrenaline to course through his veins but his body is too busy being hung over.
"Just trying to turn off your fucking alarm!"
Black! Black is in his bed and they're both naked, and oh fuck. Of all men he had to go and fuck Black.
If Severus could move his hands he'd bury his head in them. He'd wring Black's neck. Or slap himself.
"Off … me," he says. Black is, despite his gaunt frame, heavy.
Black does get off him, but insists on scurrying close to him, and to press his bum against his side. First it seems he's shifting a bit to find a more comfortable position in the admittedly narrow bed. Then his rubbing becomes insistent, and Severus can't help but acknowledge the dull tugging ache in his cock.
He feels thirsty and in pain and slightly nauseous and he really shouldn't be that aroused, but if he doesn't fuck Black right now he thinks he is going to die or explode or both.
Finally he carefully turns to his side as well and spoons Black. Black doesn't object, but rounds his back, and pulls his legs up, makes himself spoon-able.
They have obviously already fucked so what's the damage in doing it again? Black definitely seems to be eager, pressing his firm bum back, all the while moaning under his breath.
With shaking fingers Severus traces Black's flanks, caresses the rib cage. Every touch a silent question he doesn't dare to ask.
Black's breath hitches.
"Yes … oh, yes please," he whispers.
When he lets his fingers wander higher he realises that Black is pinching and pulling his own nipples.
Although the movement nearly kills him, driving red hot spikes of pain into his brain, Severus opens the drawer of his night stand and fumbles for the lube, hastily applies it onto his fingers, then pushes it into Black's excited, twitching hole.
"Fuck, yes!" Black moans.
He turns onto his stomach and with both hands spreads his own cheeks so Severus can finger fuck him open.
"Fuck, yes," says Black again, and pushes his arse up, wriggling it, so that Snape's fingers are really deep in there.
"Fuck me now," Black pants and Severus for once obeys Black's orders. That moment when he slides his cock into Black's twitching hole he feels his mind falls apart and dissolves in utter bliss. He'd never felt that perfect before, that right. Black makes groaning noises and pushes back, clawing the sheets.
"Fuck!" Black says. Or maybe it's him saying it. Not that it makes any difference.
They both immediately fall into a perfect rhythm, as if they'd been doing this all life long. There is no telling where one begins and where the other ends, they're one.
"Please," Black begs, and Severus need not to ask what it is that Black needs so urgently. He pulls Black up, takes his hips and then bends his own knees so that when he fucks Black, his cock is slightly angled upwards. The first three or four strokes Black murmurs appreciatively, lets out a hoarse little laugh. Snape can see the muscular buttocks tense.
Then he pushes in again and this time, he feels Black constricting around him, and hears him crying out.
"Fuck, yes, there!" Impatiently Black pushes back, seeks to take Severus' entire cock in.
Severus lets go of one of Black's hips and reaches around to fondle Sirius' cock. He is not surprised to find it hot, heavy and iron hard, ready to come, the glans sticky with pre-come.
"Oh God," Black whines, his voice so fucking raw and needy. Severus pushes in again, and then Black's cock hardens even more and twitches, and Black is crying out, heedless of Silencing charms or of neighbours. His head thrown back in ecstasy, his wailing doesn't seem to end, and he rocks back against Severus, and Severus tumbles over the edge, too, his cock milked by Black's convulsions.
Everything whitens out, the pain in his head, the nausea in his stomach, the dryness in his throat is all but forgotten, all he knows in this moment is Sirius, and Sirius only.
They fall together, return slowly from their high, both of them gasping, shaking.
"I'm too old for this," Severus wants to say but he only manages to wheeze and sound the more pathetic. Black doesn't say anything but he only presses his hot, sweaty face against Severus jaw and nuzzles him.
Some of the discomfort of being hungover returns and they don't fall asleep immediately. After some minutes Severus gets up and fetches water from the kitchen, some food-leftover, stale bread and potatoes with dill and some cold pasta, but they both devour it hungrily, then wash it down with Sober Up potion.
They're mostly silent, because whatever they say might be the wrong thing to say. Both of them wait until the other speaks first.
Of course it's Black in the end who breaks the silence.
"You have a telly. In your bedroom," he points out inanely. Severus is too glad that he said something, and something so neutral, he doesn't roll his eyes or insult Black's intelligence or conversational skills or lack of thereof. Besides, he thinks, he has learned a lot in the recent years and is a social and pleasant person these days.
Some of the lovers he has taken after the war have taught him the art of small talk and polite conversation.
So he says, after wracking his brain for a suitable response, "I have a DVD player too."
"And DVD's," he adds belatedly.
Black shifts beside him, then with his foot rubs his calf up and down. It feels very nice, Severus notices.
"Don't be so tense," Black says, "knowing you, you're beating yourself up over this, making things more complicated than they are."
"Am I?" Severus asks blankly.
"I can see that you're really nervous and twitchy."
Severus looks at Black who is sitting up and staring down on him with these curious dog-eyes.
"We fucked," Black says. "I don't have a problem with that. You're reasonably good looking, and we seem to comply in bed, seem to be sexually in tune."
"I'm reasonably good looking," Severus is mildly surprised by this.
"All right," concedes Black, misunderstanding his tone, "you're very good looking."
Black puts a hand onto Severus' nipple and flicks it lightly then bites it. "You're a good fuck. So am I, right?"
Severus has to agree. Just like that, he feels at ease.
Surprisingly enough they begin talking about other things. Black asks why Severus got himself an apartment in this area, they talk about rental prices in Muggle London and rental prices in Diagon Alley, and how these two are more related, after the war.
Severus finds himself strangely open. He tells Black all sorts of things about himself. Nothing big, no deep secrets, but still-it's still Black he is conversing with.
The Wizarding world is shifting and changing. He thinks the change is good for the young people. They enjoy the freedom that the end of the war brought, but do remember the dark times, and it makes them earnest, determined but also hungry for fun and a bit more hedonistic than the generation before.
Severus doesn't disapprove but he feels out of place, feels like he shouldn't take up space in this new world.
"It's a new world. It's their new world," he says.
"And we're the dinosaurs," Black says. "We remind them of the past … so … away with us!"
"Maybe we were not supposed to survive," Severus muses.
“Yeah, well, but we did,” Black murmurs, playing with Severus' dark nipples. One of his reasons to always wear the thick woolen robes over his linen was that he has always had prominent, sensitive nipples, and as a teenager he had been painfully conscious of them. He half-heartedly shoves Black's head away but Black only laughs and bites Severus' other nipple, then looks up at Severus with glittering eyes, the question in them unmistakeable.
"Again?" Severus rolls his eyes in his dramatic fashion and clucks his tongue.
He watches Black licking and sucking both of his nipples, and of course Severus is panting and gasping after a short while. He feels Black fingers stroking his cleft and he spreads his legs and pushes up against Black's fingers.
Black begins to fondle him in earnest.
Soon, very soon Severus is ready and Black lines his cock up and slides slowly in.
"That all right?"
"Yes," says Severus, who doesn't bottom that often to be completely at ease with it.
Black moves his hips a bit forward then pulls back, until he's nearly out of his hole then pushes in again
"Good," Severus praises him, "very good."
"I quite like that myself," Black says.
"You can go a bit deeper," Severus says, "and … angle it up a little bit."
Black moves.
"Like this?"
"Almost, a little harder, deeper."
Severus grabs his knees and pulls his legs up.
Black tries again. And again. Then he twists his hips a little and it's absolutely perfect.
"Oh yes," Severus feels boneless with pleasure. "So good."
Black keeps doing that, and while they're both lazily fucking they continue talking, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
Black strokes Severus cock. "Nice cock," he says and smirks, thrusting.
"So I've been told."
Black has to pour more lube on his cock, to keep going. “Do you think we can fuck away our past?”
“Let's try it,” Severus suggests, “we can always evaluate the outcome … later.”
“Good idea,” Black agrees and pushes forwad again as if he can't get enough of Severus' heat.
“I usually … have good ideas,” Severus pants. He has to admit, Black really knows how to fuck.
"I could do this forever," Black says hoarsely. Severus clenches, and Black whines.
"Be my guest."
It feels so wonderful to fuck like this. Severus feels like lying on his back in the ocean, letting himself carried by slow, warm waves. Black slides in and out, slowly.
It's not this hurried, frenzied chase, not blind, greedy fucking … it's so sweet and delicious and perfect. After a long period of slow thrusts, Black says finally: "I want to come now … if you're all right with that … " his voice is thick with lust, "that rippling motion your arse does … it's fucking killing me!"
"Hm," Severus manages to hum. "I can feel your cock twitching inside me!"
Black's sweat is dripping down onto his own forehead. He has to still now between thrusts, and wait a little until he can continue.
Then Black puts his back into it now, sets a fast pace, and Severus goes with him, lets him lead like this, pushing back and clenching as hard as he can, just to feel more of this beautiful, hard cock. Slowly they're spiralling towards in a maelstrom of pleasure, then the current grips them and these last moments are wild and beautiful and breathless.
When Black delivers another perfect thrust, Severus comes and Black stays inside, rides it out with Severus before he allows himself to come. Severus moans, revelling in making Black come undone. Black is actually pleading and whining.
Then he pushes in a last time and shudders.
"Jesus Fucking Christ," Black wheezes, letting himself fall beside Severus. "That … fantastic!" Snape's cracks an eye open and takes Black flushed face in. He looks years younger, his eyes sparkling, his lips full. Black laughs happily, then grabs Severus' face and kisses it soundly.
Severus is too tired to speak or to move so he only curls one corner of his upper lip up, before he drifts off to post coital sleep.
*****
If Sirius would have left in the morning, it would have all been clear and logical: a drunken one night stand. Even as he stays for a late meal in the afternoon (they order in) and they eat their food again in bed (none of them is bothered by the crumbs in the bed at this stage) and watch some episodes of one of these new Wizarding shows, and even when Snape allows him to take a shower at his place and lends him some of his own clothing, it's still … clear.
Maybe that round of oral sex in front of the fireplace in the early evening changes things? It's not about coming (in fact it takes a long time until one of them gets it up, after their exhausting activities from last night) but suckling at Snape's lovely cock while thrusting very slowly into his mouth feels so perfect, and Sirius' initial plan to go home before five o'clock dissolves like snow in the sun.
Nobody can withstand Snape's mouth.
The rug is soft enough, no doubt chosen to ease the discomfort of kneeling in front of the Floo for Snape's bony, thin knees, and the fire is nice and warm.
The sex is great. There is simply no other way to put it. It surprises Sirius, but then again, maybe not.
When they finally come, it's a slow, golden heat, pouring over them. Sirius shoots and not much comes out, but Snape laps greedily at it. Then Snape comes, trembling, and Sirius drinks the few droplets down.
And of course, they fall asleep afterward.
Much later Sirius wakes up; he's disoriented, but then sees Snape in a dressing gown, walking around. He moves to get up, but Snape grips his hand and helps him up.
"You may as well stay here and sleep, it's past midnight," he says.
So Sirius stays.
The next morning comes around. Snape rises to take a shower and Sirius, uninvited joins him. Snape doesn't kick him out, but instead they start kissing under the shower until they're half hard again.
Later they have breakfast in the kitchen, read the newspapers and find it so easy to talk (in all fairness, Sirius does most of the talking but Snape's sardonic jokes are priceless) and then Sirius thinks he has to at least help him to clean up a little bit-of course the place is a mess after their sordid activities.
He comes across a book that Snape is reading, and remembers that his father read the same book, and they start talking about that as well, and suddenly it's 11am again but Snape feels a little sleepy and Sirius could think of nothing better than to take a little nap, and well, yes. It's pretty clear how that ends. A nap, indeed.
And finally they reach Sunday night.
Sirius has spent the entire weekend fucking Snape. And he's having the best time of his life. Not that that's difficult to achieve but he can't remember ever having felt so carefree.
He has troubles with his new life. He has to come to terms with his past, has to think about his future, has to find his place as Hermione puts it. Harry and Ron talk to him about psychotherapy. He has to find something to do with his life, as everyone keeps telling him. Harry thinks, a job will do him good. Ron suggests he could take up a hobby.
It's not that he's not been thinking about these things. In a way his life is often the continuation of his existence/non-existence behind the veil-just drifting aimlessly, from day to day, night to night. He doesn't want that of course.
He doesn't know what he wants. Everyone expects him to come up with some sort of purpose, with a grand scheme or goal, but at the moment Sirius would like to not think about it. Lounging about in Snape's excitingly different flat distracts him from all these pressing issues and he enjoys that. Snape never tries to poke around in his mind, never suggests hobbies or jobs or therapies. Snape couldn't care less about Sirius' well being and the only thing he needs from him is his cock and his arse. It makes things simple and straightforward and Sirius feels at ease with that.
Once he has found out that Snape not only doesn't mind, but actually likes Padfoot, he changes into Padfoot often and explores the flat.
Of course he has to go home at some point but the thought of returning to Grimmauld Place right now is pretty unpleasant. The house looks much better now, and is actually quite pretty after an army of house elves worked on it for a month, but every time he thinks of leaving Snape's cosy flat, he feels his heart sinking a little.
Snape never tells him to leave.
Not once has he suggested since they stumbled into the hallway on Friday, that he might take off. Somehow surprising. In a corner of his mind, Sirius would have thought, Snape would fuck him, then kick him out, with grim triumph in his black eyes.
Instead, Snape is downright amiable (compared to his usual behaviour anyway).
And suddenly, Sirius realises, one of them has to say something. It's not all right anymore to just leave. After three days of lolling about together, mostly in horizontal position, this is not a one night stand any longer, and can't be treated as such.
It's an in-between thing.
He snaps back to the present when he feels Snape's gaze on him. It's been ten minutes since he last said something, and he's been looking at him ever since.
"Do you have someone?" Sirius asks. "I mean a permanent partner, or so? A … boyfriend? Or …?"
Snape blinks, then shakes his head.
"Me neither," he says.
That sounds as if he's offering a relationship, and he can see the change in Snape's features immediately, the slight paling, the thick eye brows drawing together-he is displeased.
He shouldn't have said anything.
"We're good together," he says, "I mean, not in a relationship!" he hastily adds, as he realises how inane he sounds. "Haha-can you imagine?"
Snape only continues looking at him, then after a pause says: "No, I can't imagine that either."
These words feel somewhat heavier than Sirius expected.
Bravely he ploughs on.
"Well, yes, but I mean we have great sex! I think it would be a waste not to have sex while we don't have anyone else anyway."
That actually makes sense.
Right?
Snape seems to think so because he nods. Thank God. "There is no reason why we shouldn't fuck now and then."
"Let's say, we just have fun … and as soon as one of us has someone else, like a real partner, we stop. And seeing as it's unlikely that we two fall in love with each other … it won't cause any problems, right?"
And as if on cue both of them can't help sniggering.
"Can you imagine?" Sirius says. "Us two visiting Harry, holding hands?" He starts laughing out loudly, and Snape can't suppress a head shake and a smirk.
"We could decide to move together and shop … er, what do couples buy together? Something like tea cups?" he adds.
"Curtains!" Sirius rolls around laughing. "Imagine Kreacher's face seeing us decorating the bedroom together."
"Oh, I absolutely need that Dead Salmon pink hue for my window sills! It's gorgeous!" mimics Snape, and his impression of the flamboyant gay man is so perfect, Sirius nearly falls from the bed with laughter.
"Oh, cross stitched cushions!" he calls out. "Paintings of cats and dogs!"
"They'll fit perfectly with my knitted toilet seat warmers," Snape agrees.
Sirius leans forward and kisses Snape and so it happens that Sirius stays also Sunday in Snape's bed.
*****
They fuck how often, how long and in whichever way they want. They're not afraid in asking things from each other, in telling each other exactly what they like or don't like. Since this isn't a relationship, feelings are irrelevant and thus can't be hurt. There is no need to be considerate, which is a great relief for both-they're both not very good at being considerate, each for their own reasons.
Sirius loves Snape's mouth. And his arse. And his cock. He loves that Snape whines and groans when he takes Sirius' cock, as if his cock is the biggest he's ever taken. He loves that Snape doesn't mind him talking during sex (many of his lovers did) and that he even eggs him on sometimes. He loves that when Snape fucks him, he completely gives himself to the act, that he loves to fuck and to be fucked and enjoys both thoroughly.
It never hurts when Snape takes him, as if … as if his body opens himself up for Snape, even when the preparation is hasty. Apart from that Sirius loves that Snape likes to play records afterwards: he has a record player in his bedroom!
Snape is, true to his nature, more experimental. He wants to try different, at times quite acrobatic positions, buys toys and inserts various objects into his own and Sirius' anus to their mutual pleasure. He researches rare potions, has no qualms at all to wear black nylon stockings, try a potion that turns his bits female for an hour (but after that never again because they find out that the change is rather time consuming and painful and for an hour of fucking three hours of pain are not justifiable).
Because this is not about romance or love they can make demands and negotiate shamelessly-like the one time when Sirius wants them to visit a public toilet and watch Snape suck off stranger's cocks. Or that time when Snape asks Sirius to wear nothing but an exquisite brocade corset.
Once they take a girl home, then another time a man. In a relationship these games could become an issue but the way things are between them, there is no need to worry.
Yes, the sex is great. And the rest is fun too.
Part Two