HP fic: Foolishness [Snape/Black, adult]
Title: Foolishness Author: celandineb Fandom: HP Pairing: Snape/Black Rating: adult Warnings: Deathly Hallows spoilers, semi-hate!sex, kinda. Summary: [highlight to see summary] Two long-time enemies are trapped together after death. Note: Teenyfic (588 words) written for nehalenia, at the request of r_grayjoy, who suggested Snape/Sirius, prompt "foolish wand waving," and wanted non-fluffy uber-snarky romance. I'm not sure I quite reached that level of snarkiness, but I did what I could.
"What?" Sirius glared at the figure that had appeared opposite him.
"This must be hell. Sirius Black as my companion in the afterlife?"
"If I had my choice, I would hardly have chosen you, Sniv- Severus." Sirius substituted Snape's proper name at the last moment. If they were stuck together here, for any length of time – was there any meaning to that in such a place? a small voice in Sirius' head asked – there was no point in antagonizing Snape before it became necessary.
"The feeling is mutual." Snape paced. "No way out?"
"No." Sirius had a vague memory of having been in a similar place before, with someone else. He pulled his wand from his pocket and twirled it between his fingers absent-mindedly.
When Snape noticed, he scowled. "No foolish wand-waving, if you please. I've already tried mine; it's useless."
"I know," snapped Sirius. "I've been here longer than you have."
"I'm surprised you've not gone mad with boredom, then, with no companion but your own limited mind." Snape's gaze raked Sirius appraisingly. "Although I suppose you had plenty of practice at that in Azkaban. Spend most of your time as a mongrel still, do you?"
"Fuck me, you git." Now it was necessary; Sirius liked being Padfoot and he wasn't going to take an insult from Snape of all people.
Snape raised his eyebrows. "Temper, temper. I might think you meant that."
To his great shock, Sirius realized that he did, in fact, mean it. He hadn't seen another person in a very long time, and his body was reacting. Even if it was Snape. He was an ugly, sarcastic bastard, but he had a cock, didn't he, and that was what mattered right now.
"And if I did?" said Sirius evenly, taking pleasure in the look of astonishment on Snape's face.
"Well. Far be it from me to deprive you of what you want most." Snape moved closer; his hand moved quickly to close over Sirius' cock through his robes. "And evidently you do want it. Strip," he said, his voice commanding, and Sirius found himself obeying without thought.
By the time he had pulled off the last of his clothes, Snape had done the same, standing there with his prick hard and purple in his hand. "Turn around."
Sirius swallowed and did so. He felt Snape's fingers probing at him.
"No lube," Snape muttered. "Damn."
"Spit. Use spit." Sirius was desperate. It had been so long, he wasn't going to give this up. He heard Snape spitting on his hand, slicking his cock.
It burned, even so, even though he could tell that Snape was trying to be careful – well he should, thought Sirius, if he had any hope of another go. It burned, but he wanted it, needed it, braced himself against the wall and shoved his hips back to get more.
One of Snape's hands had hold of his hip, but the other snaked around to grasp Sirius' cock, pumping it hard, in stuttering strokes that matched the rhythm of the prick in his arse. Within moments, Sirius groaned and came, splattering wetly into Snape's fingers.
"Fuck, oh fuck..." Snape bit into Sirius' shoulder, thrusting deeper, harder. The pain was welcome – he was alive when he felt it, and almost regretted when Snape cried out with his own orgasm.
"Foolishness," Snape whispered as he pulled away. He touched Sirius' arse, a surprisingly gentle gesture. "I've hurt you."
"I wanted it," Sirius told him, turning around. Their eyes met in understanding.