Author: Mosh Title: Tepid Water Note: You may not archive, re-post, or alter any of my stories without my permission. Please contact me first. Thanks! |
Sirius woke up early for a change. Being back at his old house with nothing to do, and nobody around since Remus had gone away on Order business, he hadn't felt like getting up early in the mornings. But the winter sun poured in through the window onto his face and he didn‘t see any point in trying to go back to sleep. He dragged himself out of bed, limbs protesting. Stifling a yawn, Sirius wandered down towards the bathroom, enjoying the early chill of the house to force him fully awake but hating the silence. Some of the portraits were still asleep, and the ones already up only nodded to him as he passed by. They liked him being there as much as his mother did, which wasn't a lot. Sod them, they were only pictures, they had no say about what went on at Grimmauld Place. He was the master of the house, and although he couldn't remove his mother's image from the hall downstairs, the rest knew damn well that he'd discard any portraits that challenged his authority. All but Phineas - Sirius was quite used to him. And although a snide, Slytherin arsehole, Phineas could also be entertaining at times, especially when Sirius argued with him. His face would become red, and he'd puff out his chest and grumble - it was sort of funny. To Sirius it was, anyway. Winding up Phineas had become something of a time-killer of late. Sirius reached the bathroom, rubbing his eyes with the back of his other hand, but suddenly the door opened before he even had the chance to touch it. "Ah! What the fuck are you doing?" Snape looked as startled as Sirius was feeling; he jumped back a little way, sucking in a breath, eyes wide and already furious. Sirius noticed that he had a large paper bag with him, hooked under one arm. Snape composed himself quickly. "Using the bathroom, Black," he sneered. "I'm surprised you know where it is. I thought you used the garden like a good mutt." "Get the fuck out of my house! You have no business being here so early." Sirius put his hands in front of his groin because, although he knew he had nothing to be embarrassed about, the difference between fighting with Snape fully clothed and fighting with Snape wearing only boxers was something to be taken into consideration. Especially since his wand was back in his room on the nightstand. Damn it. The Slytherin didn't move, only trailed his eyes down over Sirius' body slowly, and then back up again; he swallowed hard and then the sneer renewed itself across his mouth. "Don't know how to use a cooker?" Sirius glared, refusing to allow that leering gaze to outwardly affect him, though he felt his muscles tense automatically, and silently damned his body for reacting to being looked at like that. "What?" he snapped, pushing those thoughts away forcefully. "Get out," he added. Snape's nasty smile broadened. "Well, you won't be calling me spindly Snape anymore, will you?" "You're so weird Snape. You must notice it, I mean, you can't possibly live with yourself completely unaware that you're not all there. And it wasn't spindly Snape, if I remember correctly," Sirius paused to smirk. "It was spindly Snivellus." Snape rolled his eyes and, surprisingly, shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever, Black. That grows so boring after the thousandth time." Sirius waited, but Snape didn't move. He remained still with his hand resting on the doorknob, the other hand hanging limply at his side and that mysterious bag still stuffed under his arm. His hair looked extra greasy... or wet. Why was it wet? "That's it?" Sirius said incredulously, beginning to feel the chilly air prickling his skin. He flickered his gaze down to the object under Snape's arm. "What's in the bag then?" Snape's expression faltered briefly, and for one moment he looked like he'd been caught entirely off-guard. "None of your business," he muttered quickly. "Get out of my way." Sirius eyed the bag with a frown, then Snape's face, which was still as sallow and bony as ever, yet his hair seemed to be shining. A small droplet of what appeared to be water fell from the tip of one strand onto Snape's robes. "Your hair is wet," Sirius said, leaning in for a closer look. "Either that or you really haven't washed it for a long time - Snape, what were you doing in there? Why are you even here?" Snape pursed his lips together angrily, his nostrils beginning to flare. Sirius leant further forward, first looking closely at Snape's hair and then over his shoulder into the bathroom. The mirror above the sink was misted. "Mother of Merlin, Snape, were you in there having a bath or something?" He wrinkled his nose. "You know, the very thought of your bare arse touching anything I'll have to touch is enough to make me not want to bathe again." Snape sucked in a breath that sounded uncannily like 'arsehole'. "I said, move out of my way." His free hand wandered into his robes pocket, and Sirius tensed, realising that he didn't have anything to fight back with. He quickly darted forward, using his weight to push Snape back into the bathroom, hurling him against the sink. The bag slipped from under Snape's arm, skidding across the tiled floor. "BLACK!" Snape yelled, hitting the edge of the basin hard. He reached out to steady himself, but his hand slid against the mirror and he ended up smacking his head against it because the condensation had made it slippery. He fell to the floor in an awkward pile of long, skinny limbs. Sirius drew back, furious. "How dare you waltz in here and try to hex me! In my own sodding house! You have no right to be here unless there's a meeting, and I'm pretty sure there's no meeting at eight o'clock in the bloody morning!" Sirius' hands moved back to their original position, covering his groin. Snape struggled to his feet with a wince, one hand pressed to the side of his head. "You fucking imbecile! What are you talking about? How dare you attack me for no good reason! Oh, I forgot, that's what you do isn't it?" Sirius contemplated punching Snape, perhaps dragging his unconscious body downstairs and leaving him in front of the house... "You were going to hex me. Don't bother denying it Snivellus." Snape straightened up, turning to face Sirius, his eyes brimming with anger. "I wasn't, you pillock! But I wish I had now!" He looked down at the floor, and Sirius followed his gaze. The bag had spilled its contents, and Sirius' eyes widened when he realised that he'd been right about why Snape was there. "What the? Were you planning on a sleep over?" He watched Snape go over to the mess on the floor and begin to retrieve his stuff, first picking up a small white towel and stuffing it into the bag, then a new-looking toothbrush and tube of toothpaste, a brush, a small blue bottle of what might have been bath salts, and finally his wand. Sirius stopped laughing, realising that he'd been completely in the wrong. Snape stood up, his brows lowered. Sirius raised his hands quickly, palms up. "Now hold on," he said awkwardly. "I thought that was in your pocket and you were about to hex me... what would you have done?" He really didn't want to resort to turning on the charm, but Snape looked livid and ready to hex at any moment. "All right," Sirius began, wondering whether his voice would even allow him to say it. "I'm sorry, that was my mistake." Snape faltered, flinching as if he'd been slapped, which, Sirius noted, was rather satisfying to watch. Snape's mouth opened and then closed again. He eventually managed to get the sneer back onto his face - with some effort, or so it seemed. He lowered his wand, but remained rigid, bag now clutched in his other hand. "You what?" Sirius huffed. "I'm not going to say it again, so don't bother. Now, why are you here using my house to bathe? What's wrong with your house?" He realised that he'd never even considered the fact that Snape had a house somewhere, with chairs, and cutlery and curtains. It was strange to think of Snape as anything but an irritating, sulky bastard; an entity put on the planet to piss people off. But, Sirius thought - almost sadly - Snape lived somewhere, most probably alone and he had no idea where exactly he had come from. He'd never thought to ask anyone where Snape lived and whether his parents were still alive or if he had any siblings. Sirius doubted it, but he supposed that Dumbledore was the only person who would know such things about the man. He cut off his train of thought, inwardly cursing himself for even caring. Snape's life didn't interest him. Why would it? Snape calmly put his wand in his pocket, eyes locked on Sirius the whole time. He smoothed a few strands of stray hair back behind his ears. "The water at my house is off at the moment." Well. "So you thought you'd take advantage of me?" Sirius said, annoyed that Snape thought he had the right to use Grimmauld Place as he saw fit. "Oh please, of course I did. You weren't supposed to find out about it, but yes, I thought I'd take advantage of you because my whole world revolves around you, Black. I can't sleep at night worrying that you won't let me bathe at your house." "Oh, grow up. You are hereby forbidden to use my - what?" Snape snorted. "If you could hear yourself. Fine, I won't use your precious water again. I'll go to a hotel in the future." He shrugged, as if it didn't bother him at all. Sirius wondered why he felt bad all of a sudden; it didn't make sense. True, having someone else around in the mornings would be nice, but Snape? No, that would never work. He nodded resolutely, as if convincing himself that he wasn't going to give in. "Right. Now, get out of my house." Snape raised his chin, though his eyes travelled downwards again. Sirius felt a confusing flush of excited heat travel through his body. Snape seemed to suddenly realise what he was doing, because his mouth fell open and he quickly looked away. When he spoke, his voice was lower than usual and seemed forced. "All right, you get out of my way." It had sounded almost like a challenge, but then, Sirius thought, every word they'd ever uttered to each other had been laced with challenge. "Fine." Neither moved. Sirius wondered why they always ended up like this - at a stalemate, neither willing to move first. It wasn't a difficult decision - to step aside so that he could be rid of Snape, but as always he felt reluctant to stand down. "The water's tepid here anyway." "Well, you won't have to worry about that anymore, will you?" Snape stared for a long time, then his wide, black eyes lowered again, and seemed to leave a trail of heat over Sirius' skin as they moved down over his chest, stomach and further. Snape pursed his lips together, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Sirius could see a dark patch at the corner of Snape's eye, which would undoubtedly become a bruise soon. He did genuinely feel bad about that. The air in the bathroom was gradually shifting, becoming more pronounced somehow. Sirius was aware of it; an awkward pressure bearing down on him, not helped by the remaining condensation and when Snape's eyes roamed once again over his body, he wondered whether it was only he who could feel it. That close scrutiny was too personal. Too intimate. And too familiar. He stepped to the side, stretching his arm out towards the door in an exaggerated manner. Snape huffed again, starting to walk past, but stopped abruptly, and Sirius realised that he'd reached out and put his hand on Snape's arm to still him. Something was amiss in his mind, or body, he wasn't exactly sure. What he was sure of was that he wasn't entirely done with the conversation. "Wait, uh, the water here isn't tepid. You have to turn on the sink tap as well as the bath tap to get the boiler going. That's why it wasn't hot. There's nothing wrong with the water." Snape remained frozen in place, turned towards the open doorway, staring ahead, eyes suddenly wide, though he didn't pull his arm from Sirius's grip. "Oh." He let the bag slip from his hand. It hit the tiles with a quiet 'puff'. Sirius could feel the tensing of muscles under his palm; he swallowed thickly. "You were looking at me." The muscles beneath his fingertips twitched and Snape's face grew even paler. "But, thinking about it, that wasn't the first time. You used to look at me like that when we were younger." Sirius wetted his lips. "What do you want from me?" Snape opened his mouth again, but nothing came out. Sirius thought he was perhaps trying to think up an excuse, or denial of the fact, but the want and turmoil there in his eyes had not been Sirius's imagination. He was sure of it. He'd seen Snape stare at him like that before; when they'd been at school together, during Order meetings, even when they argued and Sirius could no longer ignore it. This was his opportunity to find out. But those thin, dry lips closed, and Snape's eyes lowered to the floor. He struggled his arm from Sirius's grasp. Sirius waited for as long as he could stand it, before moving in front of Snape, searching his face for an answer. Snape looked utterly mortified. That was enough. "You can use the bath again if you like. Uh, now," Sirius said. Heavy eyebrows lowered, pale lips parted, but all that came out was another quiet: "Oh." Sirius realised that he should be feeling triumphant that he had Snape at a loss for words, but the room seemed to grow smaller, the air heavier, and Snape's breathing much louder. Snape nodded his head once. "I have to turn on the sink tap as well?" His voice was hushed, wavering. "Yes." Sirius remarked to himself that his feet were automatically moving over to the sink, that his hand was reaching out and twisting the tap handle. Water began gushing out of the spout loudly. He heard Snape turn on the bath tap from behind, a second roar of water assailing his ears. He looked up into the mirror, which was now almost clear, and watched - caught between intrigue and shock - as Snape slowly disrobed. The first layer of clothing, those heavy black robes, slid easily down over Snape's shoulders, pooling on the floor behind him. Next he kicked off his shoes and pushed them away with his foot; Sirius mentally reminded himself to breathe, the anticipation building, the sheer oddity of the situation a heady experience in itself. He wondered how things would turn out. Snape lowered his head as he unbuttoned his shirt, again sliding it down over his arms, before stooping to retrieve it, his spine a rippling crease against the seemingly endless white of his back. Sirius shifted nervously, becoming aware of a pressure against his groin; he looked down to find his erection pressing against the edge of the porcelain wash basin. Oh God. Snape had already started to undo his trousers, elbows bent, head down, hair falling over his face. Sirius straightened up and manoeuvred his boxers down, stepping out of them and puffing out a sigh of relief to be free of their confinement. He heard Snape sniff once, then clear his throat. It sounded almost ominous. Sirius took it as a signal that Snape had finished undressing and turned around. Snape was standing very still with his back turned, tense, naked, hands clenched at his sides, watching the water tumble into the bathtub. Sirius was tempted to say something, though didn't know what. He didn't want to risk Snape hearing his nervousness. He swallowed again, moving over to where Snape was standing, though paused just short of him, feeling unsure and uncharacteristically uneasy. This was Severus Snape; sworn enemy. But that didn't bring out the satisfied pride and inner gloating that Sirius realised he should be feeling. It wasn't funny; it could end up being either the end of something that had been brewing for a long time, or the beginning of something completely new - and altogether odd. Sirius pushed these thoughts from his mind. It would be sex, he told himself, nothing would change and they'd probably end up ignoring each other afterwards, so it didn't really matter. He wished he could fully believe that. "If you say a word about the way I look," Snape warned quietly. Sirius pressed forward, nudging himself against Snape's arse and resting his hands on the tops of his arms. The skin felt so thin there, like he was touching nothing but bone, though it was smooth and cool to the touch. In all honesty, there wasn't really anything wrong with the way Snape looked, Sirius thought, staring down at the man before him; it was the way he carried it that was the problem. The very air around Snape radiated cold and obtuse - Sirius hadn't expected his body to be so warm at all. The black hair in front of his face had started to dry, so he took a handful and pushed it out of the way over Snape's shoulder, his own movements seeming liquid and dream-like. He stooped, flicking his tongue over the nape of Snape's neck, expecting him to taste strongly of something, only he didn't - there was nothing but tiny, soft, dark hairs there on his skin. Sirius stroked down one thin arm, fingers brushing over bones and raised veins, down further across a tense fist, then dropped his hand to Snape's hip, sliding it around to the front, seeking out his cock. Snape drew in a sharp breath and shivered as Sirius brushed his palm all the way from head to base, and his erection twitched in Sirius's loose fist. "Not yet." Sirius stopped and looked down into the bath. The water had risen to just below half way. "Get in, then," he said, steering Snape into the steaming water and stepping in next to him. Snape reached down and turned off the tap, though the one on the sink continued to run. Sirius was glad that the room wasn't completely silent. He took Snape's arm again and tugged him down into the water, then awkwardly manoeuvred his himself until he was straddling Snape's thighs, his legs pressed against the sides of the tub. The water was exquisitely hot, almost too hot, and Sirius relished every inch of it, soothing his skin as they tried to find a comfortable position. Snape seemed transfixed by something on Sirius's neck; he stared with an almost blank expression, eyes seemingly unfocused. Sirius had never seen him so complacent; he didn't move, but allowed Sirius to struggle until he was settled in close. Sirius reached into the water and stroked his finger up Snape's erection, pushing it against his own but Snape shook his head quickly, stilling Sirius's hand. "Not yet," he repeated. Sirius cast him a confused frown, which Snape missed completely, those eyes half-lidded and blank, staring down. Sirius pulled his hand away, a little reluctantly, then settled it on Snape's hip. "All right." They remained still and quiet for a long time. Sirius wondered what the problem was - the silence was making it even more uncomfortable, just sitting there naked and aroused. And together. What a thought. The heat from the water had already started to send tendrils of sweat down his back and chest; he wanted to move, desperately, his cock inches from Snape's, just begging to be touched. But something in Snape's manner quelled his frustration, and he found himself waiting quietly. He wondered what was going on behind those black eyes; was Snape drawing out the anticipation intentionally, or calculating the outcome like Sirius had done only moments before. Eventually, Sirius settled for puffing out a sigh, hoping that it would prompt Snape into moving. Snape finally looked up, catching Sirius's eyes with his own, then started to lean forward. Sirius found himself leaning in too, but wasn't prepared for the crushing intensity of the kiss - their first kiss; he tried to force his tongue into Snape's mouth, but Snape was pushing back with his tongue and they both grunted an almost annoyed sound which would have been amusing if this wasn't really happening. Then he felt Snape's teeth graze across his bottom lip, and the water sloshed as both of them raised their arms; hands trying to grip skin, but ending up pinching and scratching instead. Their teeth clinked, fingers becoming tangled in hair, sweat running down backs and chests because of the hot steam rising from the water. The noise from the sink tap grew louder in Sirius's ears, like thunder rolling around him, until the drumming of it seemed to fill the whole room. He wondered if perhaps the water was too hot, because he was feeling dizzy and Snape's lips were soft, wet and all over his face suddenly; on his chin, his cheek, the side of his nose, his eyelid, eyebrow. He sank his face down against Snape's pale, smooth neck, starting to bite and suck, because he had to do something to stop himself from losing his grip on reality. Fingers pulled themselves from his hair, catching on tangled knots; a low moan rose above the gushing of the tap, before Snape wrapped his arms around Sirius's back and tried to pull him closer, their chests knocking and Sirius clenching his legs around Snape's hips. "Now," Snape moaned against Sirius's ear, in a voice so desperate that Sirius was startled to hear it. Without another thought he pulled back, plunging one hand into space between them, down into the water, taking Snape's erection into his fist. Snape gasped and wrapped his own hand around Sirius's flushed-dark cock, then claimed his mouth again, moaning and rocking and trying to devour Sirius's tongue, while their hands started to move in an uncoordinated rhythm over each other, wanking almost violently. Sirius gave up trying to kiss back; he relaxed while Snape assaulted his mouth, a hot and frantic amalgamation of tongue and teeth and breath. He heard himself moan when Snape's other hand slid over his thigh, rubbing his balls for an excruciatingly short amount of time, and then continued further, long fingers eventually coming to rest against his arsehole. He rotated his hips as best he could, body almost unconsciously trying to impale itself on those fingers. He broke away, panting with frustration. "Fuck, Snape, just do it!" Snape didn't respond, infuriatingly, he only moaned and rocked faster. Sirius released his cock and drew back. "What are you doing?" Snape said, looking at Sirius like he'd suddenly grown an extra head. "I'm going to show you how this is done, since you can't seem to figure it out for yourself." Sirius noticed Snape's eyes darken, but before the man could open his mouth to retort Sirius sat up on his knees. He reached for one of the small pots of oil in the cabinet nearby, his whole body shivering the moment he left the smothering warmth of the water. He slipped back into the tub quickly, sitting up on his knees at either side of Snape's body and catching hold of his right hand. Sirius spread some of the oil over Snape's fingers, then, locking his gaze with the other man, guided Snape's hand between his legs. "Do it," he said, pressing his cock against Snape's chest and holding Snape's hand firmly in place. Snape stared up from under his eyebrows, his expression caught between defiance and desire. Slowly, he pressed two fingers into Sirius's body. Then, with a new kind of smirk, he dipped his head and wrapped his lips around the head of Sirius's prick, sucking down the shaft part way. Sirius was torn between slamming himself down onto the invading fingers and bucking up into the tight suction around his cock. He moaned again, allowing his head to fall back as the slippery fingers buried themselves deeper in his arse with a quick stab. "Ah-God!" A wave of pleasure rolled through his body as Snape found his prostate, and simultaneously tongued all the way up the underside of his cock, releasing it only to lick around the purpling head. "Ohh..." Snape moaned in reply, thrusting his fingers faster, harder, as if he could bring himself to orgasm with that alone. "Stop," Sirius breathed, pulling out of Snape's mouth and batting his hand away from his arse. Snape grumbled unintelligibly, his eyes still closed and mouth open. He looked fucking amazing like that. Sirius pressed his palms against Snape's shoulders, forcing him to lean backwards, hoping that the oil he'd rubbed on Snape's fingers had been enough. He moved forward slightly, then started to lower himself back down into the water, until he felt Snape's cock nudging against his hole. Snape's eyes snapped open and he looked up, absolute disbelief on his face. Sirius ignored it and pressed down, the resistance giving finally, and ohh... Snape's thick length started to stretch him, fill him, thankfully sliding in with little pain. Fucking perfect. He sank as far as he could go, never having felt so full and aching in his life, and then allowed a reflexive clench of his muscles around Snape's gorgeous cock. "Ahh! Fuck, Black... fuck! That's-" Sirius let out a strange, breathy laugh, then kissed Snape hard, sedating his moans while trying to force his contracting muscles to relax and grow accustomed to the throbbing hardness inside him. Snape's hips started to jerk under his weight, so he raised himself up a little way and then sank back down, deepdeepdeep, a fierce stab of sensation prompting him to repeat the motion again, and again, and again until he was riding Snape's cock in earnest. Snape whimpers turned to sharp cries, spilling out and into Sirius's mouth; Sirius could feel the vibration of them against his lips. He dug his fingers into the soft flesh of Snape's shoulders, gripping painfully to steady the rhythm of his movements, and he felt hands on his thighs, pulling him down even harder with every thrust. Sirius tore his mouth from Snape's, still fucking himself on Snape's cock, and managed to pant: "look at us." Snape looked down to where Sirius's cock slid heavily against his stomach; he looked utterly staved for it. Sirius groaned at Snape's expression, spurting pre-come onto Snape's skin - it wasn't going to take much more to get him off. God, the man's eyes. His fucking mouth, open like that. "S-Severus-" Snape curled his fingers around Sirius's prick, jerking him off hard, in time to Sirius's movements. Sirius's arse burned, perfectly; he slowed, his down-thrusts becoming more about the deepness than the speed, until Snape barked out a cry, his cock twitching inside Sirius's body. Sirius thrust his prick into Snape's hand one more time, then shuddered his release all over Snape's chest before falling forward heavily against Snape's body.
"I should really be going." Sirius closed his eyes briefly and then struggled up off of Snape's lap. He climbed out of the bath and limped over to retrieve his boxers from the floor by the sink. Snape rose too, stepping out, then padding across the tiles towards his pile of clothes. Sirius stepped into his boxers and pulled them up, realising that he'd need another bath as soon as Snape had left. He turned off the tap, the thick silence falling around them. The question that had been playing on Sirius's mind still wasn't answered. What happens now? What has this achieved? Are things changed for the better or the worse? He looked up into the mirror, and saw Snape buttoning his robes, before stooping to pick up his bag from the floor. It was on the tip of Sirius's tongue, but something was stopping him from saying it. But then Snape turned and caught his eye in the reflection of the mirror, and Sirius found himself blurting out: "You don’t have to go to a sodding hotel, you know." Snape stared at him for a long time without moving or speaking; he seemed to be searching Sirius's face for something. Sirius wasn't sure what to reveal in his expression, so he forced it neutral. He wasn't about to give Snape reason to think he desperately wanted him there. Snape finally nodded once, muttered, "All right," and then with out another word headed out the door. Sirius released a sigh, half-contented from the sex and half-uneasy about what exactly had been started by it. He glared at himself in the mirror, noting dark-red teeth marks on and around his mouth, his hair in clumps of tangles, and faint scratch marks over his neck and shoulders. "Nice one, Black," he murmured, but his reflection only winked and grinned, mouthing 'too right' back at him. ~Fin~ |
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