HP fic: At Practice [Severus/Sirius, adult]
Title: At Practice Author: celandineb Fandom: HP Pairing: Severus/Sirius Rating: adult Length: 1992 words Warnings: masturbation, blowjobs, public sex Summary: Sirius is surprised under the Quidditch stand. Note: Written for r_grayjoy for the 2011 Kinky Kristmas exchange at daily_deviant.
Sirius slipped under the Quidditch stand. The Gryffindor team was practicing this Saturday morning, but it was drizzling, and therefore unlikely anyone else would turn up to watch.
That was exactly how Sirius wanted it. Ever since James had dared him to wank outside, last summer when Sirius had visited him, he had realised that quite liked doing it outdoors. The moving air felt different, better, against his bare skin, and there was always the extra thrill that someone just might see him. Not that he wanted to be caught -- especially given that he had chosen this spot in order to have occasional glimpses of James on his broomstick -- but the possibility added a certain something.
James didn't know that he was down there. Sirius had hinted once or twice that he wouldn't be averse to a little mutual experimentation, but James was resolutely straight. Sirius, on the other hand, was potentially interested in nearly anyone and anything. Watching James right now gave him a stiffy, but so had groping Violet Cadwallader's knickers last week. He licked his lips and opened his robes enough to let his prick poke out, wrapping his hand around it and leaning on a post in the shadows, from which he could see the team, and especially James, fairly well most of the time.
Idle hands weren't idle for long. Leisurely he began to stroke himself. The practice would doubtless last at least two hours, so he had loads of time. Sirius spread his legs a little wider.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't Sirius Black engaging in a bit of self-abuse, in public no less."
The voice that interrupted him was rich with sneering delight.
"Snivellus," said Sirius coolly, without stopping what he was doing. He refused to show any hint of embarrassment in front of that scrawny bastard, Severus Snape.
"Couldn't pull a bird today, is that it?" Snape stepped in front of Sirius, his eyes lit with unholy glee. "Or are you meeting someone here and need to work yourself up to be ready for them? No -- I know -- you're here for some stupid prank as usual, but got bored and decided to have a nice cosy wank while you waited."
Ignoring the last comment, Sirius replied, "Jealous? You wouldn't have a clue what to do if you were meeting someone."
"You wish that were true, Black," spat Snape. "Your need to pretend you're better than anyone is as pathetic as that." He jerked his chin at Sirius's crotch.
"Fuck off, Snivellus. What I do is none of your business. You couldn't match me if you tried."
Sirius felt on fairly safe ground, saying that. They'd all compared sizes in the Gryffindor showers last spring, and Sirius's was distinctly the largest amongst his friends.
"Oh no?" Severus sniffed in a disparaging sort of way.
"No." Sirius felt his cheeks grow red. "Pull it out and prove it, or shut your bloody face."
Snape swallowed -- Sirius could see his Adam's apple bob in his scrawny neck -- but said, "All right."
He fumbled at his robes and pulled out his limp prick. Sirius watched as he began to wank. Unlike Sirius, Snape evidently preferred to use his left hand, but he also spat in his palm first. His cock hardened rapidly as he stroked, turning almost purple as it engorged under his fingers and Sirius's eyes.
Snape's prick might be bigger than his own, Sirius had to admit, his mouth growing dry as he watched. Stubbornly he said, "We'll have to measure, you know."
"With what?" Snape asked.
Sirius bit his lip. "I don't know a measuring spell," he confessed. "Do you?"
Snape shook his head.
The obvious thing to do was to line their pricks up together and compare directly. Sirius could almost feel Snape's cock throbbing against his own. He shuddered convulsively, unsure whether his reaction was desire or disgust. He reached for his wand instead.
"Here. We can use our wands to measure. Base to tip, mark the length with your thumbnail and then we can compare."
Nodding, Snape took out his own wand.
They each watched the other carefully to ensure faithful measurement, no cheating. Sirius hoped he had been wrong, but when they held their wands together, Snape's thumb marked a spot over a quarter of an inch beyond Sirius's.
"You lose, Black," said Snape in self-satisfied tones.
"Way to state the obvious," Sirius replied crossly, casting around for a suitable retort. "What you do with it is more important than size anyhow. Everyone knows that."
"Oh?" Snape's eyebrows went up. "That's why you were so keen to show that you were bigger than me, I suppose."
Snape didn't seem to notice that he was still playing with himself, his long bony fingers manipulating each inch of his prick as they spoke. But then, Sirius was doing the same.
"It's easier to compare sizes than technique, that's all," Sirius said. "Or did you have some method in mind?"
He didn't miss the quick glance that Snape shot at his prick before the other boy answered, "I suppose speed, or distance."
"Or both." Sirius considered it. "Birds like it better if you're too fast, but if we each try to be the slowest, that won't work. I know. We can see the Quidditch team practicing from here. First one to come after the next time someone scores through the leftmost hoop wins for speed, and we can stand right next to each other to see who has the greater distance."
"Done," Snape said.
They lined up, careful to keep to the shadows where they could not be seen. The rain was still falling but not so hard that the goalposts were hidden from view.
Sirius kept up an easy stroke. This would be tricky, trying to stay close to coming, so that he could finish faster than Snape when the time arrived, but not letting himself come too soon. At least Snape would have the same difficulty.
"What if they never score through the left hoop? Or what if one of us comes before they do?" asked Snape.
"They'll use that hoop," said Sirius confidently. "James makes sure the team practises with all of them, every time. And if one of us comes before that happens..." On impulse, and without stopping to think about the consequences if he lost, he said, "In that case, the loser has to suck off the winner."
Snape hesitated just long enough for Sirius to wonder what he was thinking before he said, "Agreed."
Sirius sneaked a glance at Snape's face. He hadn't sounded all that upset that by Sirius's stipulation, but then, Sirius didn't know him well enough to recognise anger or reluctance in his voice, and Snape certainly had experience in showing little reaction as possible. Half the fun of pranking him was in trying to get him to lose his self-control.
"Right, then." Sirius returned his attention to the Quidditch players. It wouldn't do to be too distracted to notice when they scored a goal in that left hoop. Nevertheless, he found himself giving quick glances at Snape. His ugly face was flushed, his beaky nose in particular, and his breath came out in short pants as his prick slid through his fist. Sirius wondered if he himself were so odd-looking at the moment; he had never really considered what he looked like during sex, and when he was with someone else by the time he was this close to orgasm he generally had his eyes closed to concentrate better on the sensations.
Watching for the Quaffle to go through the leftmost hoop was a good distraction, in fact. Any time Sirius felt like the heat inside him might start to boil over, he directed a little more attention at the players. He had to avoid watching James, but as James was the Seeker and not dealing with the Quaffle, that wasn't so difficult.
Snape's elbow was jogging faster, his mouth fallen open. Sirius nearly said something to remind him to wait for the goal, but then thought better of it. If Snape lost, he'd have to suck Sirius off. Perhaps losing the chance to see who could shoot his spunk farther was minor compared to that glorious possibility.
The whizzing figures overhead drew nearer to the goals again. Sirius tensed, waiting to see if it would be the left-hand hoop that the Quaffle passed through. Snape groaned, and Sirius's eyes crossed as he tried to look in two directions at once. He saw Snape's face twist, his body convulse as his prick spurted its pearly load onto the packed dirt. Quickly Sirius glanced back up at the sky. The Quaffle had just passed through -- thank Merlin! -- the middle hoop. Snape must have taken a chance, and lost.
"Mark that spot," said Sirius, pointing to where Snape's spunk had splattered.
Snape cocked his head. Then a look of comprehension washed over his face, and he nodded and used the handle end of his wand to scratch an X in the dirt. He came back and knelt without speaking in front of Sirius. His dark eyes were hot, whether with lust or rage Sirius couldn't tell, when he tipped his head back and looked up as if to ask for instructions.
"Suck me," said Sirius roughly, grabbing Snape's head, "but slow, understand? When I tap you three times, pull off."
Snape nodded, a single sharp jerk of the head, and opened his mouth. His thin lips touched the tip of Sirius's prick and slid downward along the shaft until he had taken in nearly all of it. Sirius's mouth fell open and his hands tangled in Snape's hair as Snape's tongue undulated against him. This was what his fantasies of a blow job had always been like, far superior to what the reality had ever been before now. It was quite evident that Snape both loved doing this and had lots of experience at it.
He was going slowly, too, as instructed. Sirius straddled his legs a few inches further apart and let his hips move, fucking Snape's throat. Snape's hands grasped Sirius's thighs through his robes. His dark head bobbed with his efforts.
The heat was building in Sirius's bollocks with every lick and slurp. He tapped Snape's head three times, and reluctantly Snape let him go.
Sirius grabbed his cock and stroked it hard and fast. Within seconds one pulse, two, three, four, shot from his quivering prick onto the dirt, three of the jets falling short of Snape's mark but the second outdistancing it by a good four inches. Sirius slumped limply against the post, as relieved by the fact of beating Snape as by the orgasm itself.
Snape was already tidying his robes, fastening the last button as Sirius watched. His face was already closed off into its usual set, almost disdainful expression.
"I trust you're satisfied, Black."
Sirius paused in the act of tucking his prick back into his pants to nod. "You?"
Snape shrugged. Sirius fumbled as he finished closing his robes.
"Look," he said bluntly. "This isn't going to change anything else, but..." he chewed his lower lip for a moment. "If you want, we could have a rematch sometime. See if you could beat me."
Snape's lips twisted as though he found something amusing in what Sirius had said, but all he said was, "Perhaps. In a week or two." He gave that jerky nod again and turned on his heel, striding back towards the castle without another glance at Sirius.
For a moment Sirius stared after him, shaking his head. He stepped out from the shelter of the stands and looked up. The Quidditch team was in fine form, swooping and diving in well-rehearsed formations. The rain had slackened, almost stopped, and Sirius climbed up into the seats to settle down and watch the end of the practice.