Author: Mosh Title: After the Fight Note: You may not archive, re-post, or alter any of my stories without my permission. Please contact me first. Thanks! |
"What the hell are you doing back here?" The lamps were low, the fire burning lazily in the corner. Some of the chairs around the kitchen table were still askew from when their previous occupants had got up and trudged up the stairs to bed over an hour earlier. However, one occupant had remained in the kitchen after the others had dispersed. And now he suddenly found himself joined by another. "Black, now that your little fan club isn't around to help you, I think we ought to finish our earlier conversation." "Fuck off Snape. How many times do I have to say it? Fuck. Off." Snape drew his wand from the pocket of his black travelling cloak, but, surprisingly, he didn't point it at Sirius. Sirius drew his wand too, but aimed it down at the kitchen floor, unsure of what Snape was playing at. "Well, if you insist," he said, narrowing his eyes at Snape with a hint of a challenge. But neither moved. Snape regarded Sirius coolly, the shadows on his face emphasising his sharp bone structure and long nose, lips thin and almost as pale as the rest of him - making him look like some kind of cold marbled statue. Sirius stared at him. They remained locked in each other's eyesight for what felt like an age, both breathing steadily, though neither knowing what was going to happen. Sirius felt angry that Snape had returned after Harry and the Weasleys had gone up to bed, but he really didn't want them to wake up to find him and Snape fighting. Yet again. But then Snape did something completely unexpected: he moved towards the kitchen table, carefully put his wand down, and then stepped away to the side. Sirius didn't move for a long time. It seemed to him that Snape was waiting for him to either throw a hex or do the same. He slowly reached out and placed his wand on the table - never breaking eye contact with the man standing across the room by the door - and then stepped back. Equal. Even. "Did I hurt your feelings earlier?" Snape said suddenly. "Did I rub your nose in the fact that you're good for nothing, just like a bad dog that's messed on the carpet - rubbing your face in the fact that you will never be of any help here?" His face remained straight for once, no hint of a sneer on it. His voice was different, too, still a low rumble but lacking its usual malice. Sirius's lips curled into a humourless smile. "Not going to work, Snivellus," he said quietly. "Give up. I'm already over it. Though you seem to be having problems with me still being more popular than you, even though I'm so 'good for nothing', as you like to put it." Snape smoothed his hands down over his coat, as if wiping them clean of something. He stared at Sirius in silence. Sirius calculated that his wand was within easier reach of him than Snape was to his own, but something was different here; he felt empty and weary, and from the look of it, Snape did too. Sirius realised that, for the first time in his life, he actually couldn't be arsed to take up an opportunity to hex Snape. He shook his head, wondering if he was coming down with something. "This is quite pointless isn't it?" Snape said tiredly, though seemingly more to himself than Sirius. He took a couple of short paces forward, and as if out of habit of rising to all of Snape's challenges, Sirius found himself mirroring the action. "So, go away then." Two more steps forward, followed by two more. Sirius watched Snape's pale, bony and calloused hands stroke down across his black clad stomach again, now quite obviously a nervous reflex. He couldn't remember seeing Snape nervous since they'd been at school together. Sirius cleared his throat quietly, reaching up to hook a couple of stray wisps of his long dark hair behind his ears. That was something he found himself doing when he felt nervous. Snape's anxiety was infectious. One more step. It was quite apparent to Sirius now that their mutual dislike was mixed with some thing different, something new. No, not new - more like something long denied, or buried so deeply that Sirius had almost forgotten it: Wanting to be touched. Just simply touching another living person - anyone. The very thought of it seized his chest. Snape had a strange expression on his face; his eyebrows were knotted lightly, almost as if he knew something Sirius didn't and was waiting for the penny to drop. Sirius had no idea what was going on, finding himself half irritated and half intrigued. His footsteps upon the stone floor echoed each one of Snape's'; they sounded so loud in his ears. What the hell was going on? "I have no idea," Snape said softly. "Huh?" "You asked me what's going on," came the reply. "Did I?" Another step from both sides, and Sirius found himself staring down his nose at Snape - he always had been thankful for his height advantage in that respect. "Don't you dare say anything to wind him up during those Occlumency lessons," he whispered. Snape raised an eyebrow slowly. "Potter?" He huffed. "Like I said, criticism merely bounces off him, even if it is for his own good." The fire popped, crackling loudly on the hearth, the light from which shone orange against Snape's pale hand as he reached up and entwined his fingers in Sirius's hair. Sirius allowed his head to be drawn back, exposing his neck to his most hated enemy, and moaned when he felt cold lips press gently against his throat. He gasped as Snape's lips ghosted breathy kisses all the way down his neck, and he tried to lean into the soft assault, but Snape drew back. "He brings out the worst in you. Just like his father did." Sirius couldn't be bothered to move, so he spoke to the ceiling instead. "Only when you're around." "Hm." And then Snape pressed forward, hard, knocking against Sirius with a quiet grunt. Sirius almost moaned from the physical contact: from the hand in his hair that was balled up into a fist, from the strong arm curled around his waist, crushing him closer to Snape's body. Snape's eyes were wide and hungry as he caught Sirius's mouth with his own, kissing him furiously. Their teeth clinked together, tongues blundering against each other, and it was the best fucking thing Sirius had felt for years. He moaned again - right into Snape's mouth - when he pushed his hips forward against Snape's body; he had been half hard since they'd put their wands down, but now his cock was rigid in his trousers. Snape answered the moan by sucking on Sirius's lower lip - God, he hadn't been kissed or touched like that for so long, too damn long... He broke away, panting slightly. "Fifteen years, I think..." Snape regarded him steadily, face inches from his own and uneven breath chilling Sirius's wet lips. "What do you mean?" Snape said eventually. Sirius didn't know how to articulate it. He wasn't sure he wanted to say it out loud properly anyway - it would just make it all so real. Instead of a reply he turned Snape around and pushed him up against the kitchen sideboard. Snape let out a small "Ohh..." as Sirius pressed up behind him, rubbing his needy erection - with a moan - against Snape's backside. "This," Sirius murmured into Snape's stringy hair, grinding his hips in slow, hard circles and trying to speak evenly. "Fifteen years, or maybe more... I can't remember." He stopped moving, pulling Snape's cloak over his shoulders and dropping it to the floor. Strangely, the lack of physical contact hit Sirius like a cold punch in the stomach; he quickly pulled off his jumper. "Let me just-" Snape began, but Sirius pushed forward again, bending Snape over the countertop. Sirius gasped at the feel of human warmth against his skin. It was perfect. "No," he said, sliding his hands around Snape's bony hips to undo his trousers. Sirius wanted to come already, so he quickly released Snape's rigid cock from the confinement of his trousers and started stroking it, feeling it smooth and hard in his grip. Snape let out a deep, chesty moan, starting to move his hips; he thrust forward as Sirius squeezed his cock gently, sliding his palm along the solid length of it. "Come," Sirius whispered. "Now... come on... now." He reached around Snape's body with his other hand and wrapped it around the one already pumping at Snape's erection, squeezing a little too hard and causing Snape to protest with a growl. "Fuck," Sirius whispered, the sensation of Snape sliding within the circle of his hands making his own cock throb. There was a loud bang as another log burst in the fire, followed by a hiss as the heat drove the air out between the gaps in the wood. Snape's head fell forward against his folded arms as if he couldn't stand up straight any longer. Sirius pressed his face into the nape of Snape's neck, breathing deeply. He tried to stop himself from rubbing his erection against the man until, finally, Snape stopped moving and came with a wavering groan, his prick spurting hot and hard across Sirius's fingers. He released a long, satisfied sigh, before slumping further forward onto the countertop. Sirius held on to Snape's cock for a while afterwards, liking the feel of the slippery heat of it in his hand. "Black," Snape said, voice muffled against his arms. He sounded far away. Sirius had forgotten what it was like to feel somebody else come like that. For a moment the bitterness of what had befallen him in nineteen-eighty came flooding to the surface, and he bit his bottom lip painfully. He'd missed so much. Not just Harry growing up, or his friends, or freedom, but the private things, like just touching someone, feeling them warm against the body, the feel of soft skin, of lines, curves, muscles, bones and hair and - Merlin - even the feel of warm, wet come, the smell, everything... "Black?" Coming back to himself, Sirius remembered where he was, who he was with and that he was still painfully hard. He was tempted to just rut against Snape's arse to get himself off, but he knew he'd need more than that. He released his hold on Snape's now-flaccid cock and pulled the man's trousers down all the way to his ankles. Straightening up, Sirius stroked one slick finger against Snape's arsehole. Snape shuddered at that, rocking his hips back to meet Sirius's finger as he carefully pushed in, all the way to the knuckle before slowly withdrawing. Snape's inner muscles clenched tightly around his finger, trying to keep hold of the contact, so Sirius didn't hesitate to force a second one inside. He fumbled with his own belt buckle as Snape started rocking his hips faster. "More," Snape breathed. Sirius obliged, adding a third finger to stretch Snape thoroughly. Snape shuffled his feet further apart, as Sirius struggled his trousers down. He wanted to fuck, right now, so he pulled his fingers out and took two handfuls of bony hip and smooth skin, holding tightly. "God," Sirius muttered, nudging the moist head of his cock against Snape's tight arse. He took a deep breath and started to sink in, into the trembling-heat of Snape's body. "Ohh, fuck..." He tried to keep a grip on his control, not wanting it to end before he'd even begun. Snape seemed to catch this, and didn't push back onto Sirius's prick, thankfully. "Snape-" Sirius managed, intending to ask if it was hurting but unable to form the words in his throat. He closed his eyes, throwing his head back with a gasp as he inched further, the tightness almost unbearable. God, he'd missed touch. He'd missed feeling, and now he was feeling again, finally. He slid the rest of the way into Snape's gorgeous arse, letting out an incoherent string of words that had sounded right in his head, though didn't make any sense out in the open. In truth, it was probably better that Snape didn't hear how fucking hot he looked bent over the counter like that, with Sirius's prick buried deeply inside him. Snape moaned impatiently, gently clenching around Sirius's length. "You should move," he rasped. Another log popped in the fire, shattering Sirius's control. He started to thrust, slowly at first, only pulling out a fraction at a time before sliding back in, unsure of how long he would last. It had been, after all, years and years since he'd fucked someone. Snape seemed to grow more impatient with the short thrusts; he started rocking back and forth against Sirius, pushing himself harder onto Sirius's swollen length until it was hard to tell who was fucking whom. Their moans were low, quiet yet desperate as they tried to keep the noise down lest one of the others heard and came downstairs to investigate. Sirius was shaking from the sensations, tears stinging his eyes behind their lids. He didn't know which emotion to deal with first; joy, relief, need, the burn of his arousal, everything he'd missed in the last few years. Snape barked out a cry as Sirius slammed in hard, hips knocking against Snape's arse with a thump. And then the release he'd so desperately wanted rolled through him, pulsing wave after wave of come and moan after moan of yes and ohh. He jerked against Snape throughout his orgasm, then slumped down against Snape's back, exhausted. They both listened for any noises from upstairs, afraid that someone had heard, but no sounds stirred from above. Sirius slowly withdrew and, with shaking hands, started to pull his trousers up. The relief wore off quickly as they re-dressed in silence, neither looking at the other. Sirius's after-bliss rapidly grew cold and hollow once again, as if the sex had been a dream all along. He dragged himself over to one of the chairs, sitting down heavily with his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. "Why you?" he said quietly, not looking up. Snape moved, his coat rustling. "Because it doesn't mean anything. Right? Did it help at all?" "I think... for a moment... I don't know." Now that Sirius had indulged in the feeling, he knew he'd want more of it, and soon. But how could he ever do that again with this man he hated so much? Still hated, even now. "How did you know that was what I needed?" He heard Snape sigh. "Because you're not the only one who has gone without. I used you, you used me. It was a simple decision really... to come back here." Well, that was that then. Sirius turned his head and stared into the fire, watching the flames dance and lick around the alcove. "Go," he said. "Leave." "Fine," came the reply. After a brief pause Sirius heard footsteps retreating to the door, and with a soft 'click' of the latch, Snape was gone. Sirius dragged his chair closer to the fireplace, where he remained for most of the night. Though, for some reason, he just couldn't get warm. ~Fin~ |
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