Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: nehaleniaFrom: r_grayjoyTitle:
Catch Me If You CanCharacters/Pairings:
bondage, dub-conOther Warnings:
handjobs, frottage, power play, a lot of snark, and a smidge of dirty talkWord Count:
When Sirius lands himself in detention on a Hogsmeade weekend, his friends leave him an unusual consolation gift to keep him entertained.Author's Notes:
Deviant #10, I hope I did your wicked prompt justice! My thanks to the usual lot for their invaluable input.I must not charm, jinx, or otherwise tamper with property which does not belong to me.
Sirius wrote the line for the two hundred fiftieth time, breathed a deep sigh of relief, and set his quill aside.
"Finished, Mr. Black?" Professor McGonagall arched an eyebrow and peered at him over the rim of her glasses.
McGonagall motioned for him to approach. Sirius rose from his chair, stepped forward, and handed her the scroll of parchment on which he'd been writing. Then he fixed his gaze on a point just over McGonagall's left shoulder and studiously pretended not to notice that one side of her face and a streak of her hair were still slightly pink-tinged. After inspecting the parchment for a few seconds, McGonagall tartly said, "You may go."
Sirius didn't need to be told twice. Rubbing his cramped hand, he beat a hasty retreat out of McGonagall's office and back to Gryffindor Tower. As he trudged through the common room, he saw only a handful of first- and second-years scattered about. That was to be expected; all of the older students would be out of the castle, enjoying the Hogsmeade weekend before the Christmas holidays. All of them except Sirius, at any rate.
His Head of House could really be a sadistic old cow at times, Sirius thought. What sort of professor gave detention on a Hogsmeade weekend, for Merlin's sake? Sirius hadn't even done anything really good to earn it. Okay, yes, he'd spelled that Ravenclaw prat's quill to squirt copious amounts of nearly impossible to remove, lurid fuchsia ink -- and he deserved it for being such an obnoxious know-it-all, by the way. But how could Sirius have known that McGonagall would borrow that exact quill to demonstrate the proper way to transfigure a quill into a cactus? It wasn't at all fair.
When he walked into the seventh year Gryffindor boys' dorm room, Sirius' mood lifted instantly and his first thought was that he had the best friends in the entire world. Granted, he hadn't thought they were so wonderful a couple of hours ago when they'd gone gallivanting off to Hogsmeade without him. The consolation gift they'd left for him, however, more than made up for that.
It was Snivellus. Kneeling at the foot of Sirius' bed, his wrists bound to the bedposts with his own Slytherin tie and scarf. The finishing touch was a great, shining, red and gold bow fastened around his neck.
It was fucking brilliant
Crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe, Sirius struck a casual pose. "Trussed up with your own tie and scarf," he said. "That's got to hurt. Talk about adding insult to injury."
Snape's head snapped up at the sound of Sirius' voice, and he fixed Sirius with an expression of pure loathing. Thrashing against his bonds, he spat, "Untie me, Black! Let me go!"
"You're so predictable, Snape." Sirius rolled his eyes. "You could at least try
to make this interesting."
"Make what interesting? What are you going to do to me?" The words were followed by more thrashing and glaring.
Pushing off from the doorframe, Sirius sauntered forward. "Whatever I want to do. That's sort of the point, isn't it?"
"You coward! Afraid to face me when it's not four to one? Let me down from here and fight me fairly for once!"
"Now there's a laugh -- a Slytherin trying to appeal to another person's sense of fair play. Nope, you're staying right where you are." Sirius drew his wand from his pocket and began toying with it idly, considering what sort of hex he might try out first.
Snape seemed to realize he was well and truly fucked then. He opened his mouth and let loose the most colorful barrage of swearwords and promises of future retribution that Sirius had ever heard.
Though creative, Snape's tirade quickly grew tiresome. With a flick of Sirius' wand, the bow tightened around Snape's throat, cutting off the stream of invective with a little urk
. A second flick loosened the bow again. Taking the hint, Snape clamped his mouth shut on the rest of his outburst.
Wand still upraised, Sirius stepped forward again until he was standing just in front of Snape. "Gryffindor colors look good on you, Snivelly. Who would have guessed?" he taunted. "Or maybe it's just the position you're in. I could get used to seeing you tied up and kneeling."
A wicked smirk crept across Snape's face. "Do your friends know what a pervert you are, Black? I bet they wouldn't be happy if they knew what sort of thoughts you were having about me."
Sirius' first response was to recoil in horror. His denial died on his lips, however, when he realized he could use Snape's words against him and make him regret ever having uttered them. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? If I took advantage of you while you were helpless?" He put one foot up on the trunk at the end of the bed and leaned in close, then continued speaking in a low, husky tone right next to Snape's ear. "Yeah, I bet you'd love it. I could touch you any way I wanted, tease you for as long as I wanted, until you begged me for more. Then, after you'd begged enough, I could make you come so hard you screamed my name. And you could struggle against those ties the whole time and claim later that you never wanted it. But you and I would both know you were gagging for it."
When Sirius drew back, he expected another round of thrashing, glaring, and swearing from Snape. What he didn't expect was the flush that had risen on Snape's cheeks, or the slightly glazed look in his eyes, or the way he was breathing shallowly between parted lips. And he certainly hadn't anticipated the obvious and unmistakable bulge that was developing in Snape's trousers. "Oh my god, you filthy little wanker! And you had the bollocks to call me
Anger burned in Snape's eyes and his nostrils flared, but he said nothing. Sirius wasn't entirely sure what to do with the situation, but he had a huge advantage at that moment and he was bloody well going to keep it. Raising his hand, he fingered the edge of the broad ribbon that formed the bow around Snape's neck. "Well," he said, "as lovely as this is, I think it's about time I unwrapped my gift."
Slowly, Sirius pulled the ribbon and watched the bow unravel and fall away. Murmuring a spell, he ran the tip of his wand down the front of Snape's shirt, popping the buttons one by one. Snape tensed and tried futilely to back away, then let out a startled gasp when Sirius jerked his shirttails out of the waistband of his trousers.
As Snape's shirt fell open, Sirius stepped back to examine his handiwork. What he could see of Snape's body was pale and skinny, bony and sharp. His long hair straggled down to cover half his face, but his eyes blazed out and bored into Sirius'. Above the bonds, his hands clenched into fists. His chest rose and fell rapidly with his breaths and his cock strained against his trousers. It was sexy as hell. It was Snape and it shouldn't have been sexy at all. But fuck
, it was.
What was most incredible about it all was that Sirius hadn't even touched Snape. He was hard just from the sound of Sirius' voice, from Sirius' words. Holding that sort of power over another person, over Snape
, was heady and alluring. It was all too much for Sirius to take, and, to his consternation, his own trousers grew tight as his blood rushed south.
Plainly able to see Sirius' reaction, Snape smirked again, more broadly than before. The smug, superior expression made Sirius' blood boil. Between clenched teeth, Sirius growled, "I'll wipe that look off your face."
Sirius lunged towards Snape, kicking the trunk out of the way and sending it scraping several feet across the floor. He didn't even know what he intended to do until he found himself dropping his wand to capture Snape's face with both hands and crushing their mouths together.
Snape's eyes flew open wide and he let out a high-pitched yelp of surprise. Sirius made use of the opportunity to shove his tongue between Snape's teeth. Retreating as far as his bonds would allow, Snape fought against the intrusion for a few moments and then, with a feral grunt, he began to return the kiss. Except it wasn't so much a kiss as a contest of wills, a battle for dominance. Teeth clacked, lips bruised, and Sirius was even more turned on by the realization that Snape would not surrender easily.
In the midst of the struggling, their bodies came together and their cocks connected through layers of clothing. Snape gasped and cursed into Sirius' mouth, and Sirius grabbed him by the waist and held him fast, not letting him move away. Wiggling his hips obscenely, he said, "Like that, do you, Snape? I bet you've never even rubbed off with anybody before, have you, you uptight, disagreeable git?" The words came out more than a little breathless and Sirius had to admit that perhaps he was enjoying the proceedings a bit himself. Damn it.
His head falling back, Snape responded with a barely audible, "Fuck you." Sirius would have no doubt responded with something quite witty, but with the line of Snape's throat now exposed, he decided he had something better to do with his mouth than trade insults. He attacked Snape full force, biting at his neck, swirling his tongue in the hollow of his throat, licking his collar bone. Snape gave up somewhere along the way and began pushing his hips forward against Sirius in rigid little jerks.
Deciding Snape was still wearing far too much clothing, Sirius backed off and reached for the placket of Snape's trousers. "Let's see what you've got hiding in your pants, eh?" he said as he popped the button and drew down the zip.
"Damn it, Black, you can't just gnnnuh
!" Snape's protest was cut short as Sirius unceremoniously shoved his hand into Snape's pants, grabbed Snape's cock, and squeezed.
"Sorry, what? Didn't quite catch that," Sirius said, drawing Snape's tackle out into the open. Then he looked down. Snape's cock was... well, it was pretty much perfect, really; thick and smooth, the swollen head pushing past the foreskin, a bead of fluid gathering at the tip. At just the sight of it a shiver of lust slithered down Sirius' spine and straight into his balls. It wasn't right at all. Severus Snape had no business having a cock like that. Surely it could upset the balance of the universe or something.
Sirius' mouth watered, and he had to quickly squash any thoughts of falling to his knees and swallowing Snape whole. An alternative idea formed in his head quickly enough. It would be pretty fantastic to get his own kit off and feel Snape's cock pressed against his, feel only flesh directly on flesh. But was he willing to give up the advantage inherent in exposing Snape while remaining covered himself?
And honestly, what kind of stupid question was that?
Sirius tore open the placket of his trousers, followed by his shirt, not caring if he popped all the damned buttons. He shoved his trousers and pants to the floor, kicked them off along with his shoes, and returned to Snape, forcing their bodies together once more. Snape's skin was so much hotter than Sirius could have anticipated, his cock like a fiery brand searing into his flesh. Sirius groaned and frotted against Snape, and this time Snape didn't resist the compulsion to push back.
"You're so fucking hard," Sirius said. "Hard for me."
"Shut up!" Snape gasped without breaking the rhythm.
Never having been one to take orders terribly well, Sirius said, "Bet it makes you mental, me seeing how much you want it."
"Shut. Up!" This time Snape's words were punctuated with fierce thrusts that set off sparks behind Sirius' eyes.
Although Sirius had no intention of obeying Snape, he couldn't seem to talk any more after that. He and Snape just kept moving, groaning, biting, cursing, writhing in unison. Soon Sirius' balls began to tighten, and it occurred to him that he seemed to be racing towards the finish faster than Snape. That was wholly unacceptable. Needing to regain control of himself and the situation, Sirius stepped back.
At least, he tried to step back. He remembered too late that neither he nor his friends had thought to secure Snape's lower limbs. Before Sirius could blink, Snape swung his legs out in front of him and wrapped them around Sirius, preventing his retreat. Sirius resisted, but Snape's legs only locked around him tighter.
Somehow Sirius found himself supporting Snape's weight -- what little of it there was; Snape really was a scrawny thing -- his arms around Snape's body, his fingers digging into Snape's arse as Snape continued to buck against him. Doing his best to ignore the pressure building within himself, Sirius focused his attention on getting Snape off instead. He bit down on Snape's neck and rocked Snape against him fast and hard. He was not
going to come before Snape. He wasn't…
Sirius' climax hit him with such force that it was amazing he was able to remain standing at all, much less keep from dropping Snape and leaving him dangling from the ties. The tension coiled within him snapped and burst outward, tore through his body, nearly blinded him. He threw his head back and wailed as semen pulsed from him again and again.
Before Sirius had fully regained his senses, Snape said, "Bet it makes you mental, me seeing how much you want it." Sirius wasn't looking at Snape's face, but he could hear
that the infuriating smirk had made another appearance.
This time Sirius did drop Snape. The smug bastard seemed to have been expecting it, though, because he managed to get his legs under him and end up on his knees again. "I'm not done with you yet," Sirius growled. "We'll see who wants it more."
Sirius scooped up a streak of his own come from Snape's stomach and used it to slick Snape's cock. He began to stroke Snape, but too slowly, too lightly to give him release. Just enough to keep him near the edge. Just enough to torment. Snape shook with the effort to hold himself still and bit his lip to remain silent, but Sirius could see, could feel Snape's growing desperation.
"Say my name," Sirius said.
"Black…" Snape said, both a warning and a plea.
"My first name."
Snape finally moved, thrusting forward in an attempt to find more friction. Sirius only loosened his grip. Snape tried again, and again, to no avail. Tiny whimpers welled up from his throat. His cock was hot steel in Sirius' hand.
A needy sob spilled from Snape's lips. "S-Sirius!
A thrill of victory shot through Sirius. He clenched his fist and pumped. In four rough strokes Snape was coming, his cock jerking in Sirius' hand, semen spurting over Sirius' fingers, up to Sirius' chest, onto the floor. Sirius watched, entranced, as Snape went rigid and shuddered, his mouth falling open in a silent scream. It was intense and raw and amazing, and Sirius knew that he'd be wanking furiously to the image for the next bloody year
When it ended, Sirius slumped against Snape, utterly drained. Some coherent corner of his mind railed at the fact that he was still touching Snape, clinging limply to Snape's shirt and even resting his forehead on Snape's shoulder. The voice shouting at him sounded an awful lot like the one that always told him it was a bad idea to sneak out after hours and play pranks on Slytherins, though, and when had Sirius ever listened to that
The respite lasted only a few moments before Snape shifted. "Untie me." The words were a soft murmur.
Unable to think of a reason why he shouldn't grant the request, Sirius nodded and stumbled to retrieve his dropped wand. A lazy wave and a muttered word unraveled the tie and scarf from Snape's wrists. Sirius took three steps over to the neighboring bed -- James' -- and flopped onto it, ending in a boneless sprawl. A quick Tergeo
handled most of the mess on his chest and stomach, but Sirius didn't bother to cover up his nudity. Snape had already seen it all anyway.
When Sirius looked up again, he nearly laughed himself right over the side of the bed. Snape had already retrieved his wand from wherever it had been and was awkwardly putting himself back together. He clutched his wand in his fist as he attempted to line up his shirt's buttons with their respective holes, and he was in rather serious danger of poking himself in the eye. All the while, he kept darting sideways glances at Sirius.
"Oh, relax, you paranoid berk," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "If I wanted to hex you, I'd have done it while you were tied up."
Snape blinked as through surprised, then said, "It's hardly paranoia when you really are out to get me." He worked the last button into its hole. "Wait, are you saying you don't
want to hex me? That'd be a first."
"Let's just say the spirit is willing but the body is too shagged out to be bothered." Sirius thought he saw the beginning of a self-satisfied expression working its way onto Snape's features, so he cut it off with a rude noise. "Pffft. Don't flatter yourself, Snape. I did all the work."
"Funny, that's not the way I remember it."
Frankly, Sirius was astonished that Snape was willing to take responsibility for any part of the proceedings at all. He preferred to forget the bit to which Snape was alluding, however. "Clearly your memory is faulty, because what I recall is you begging me to make you come."
Jagged patches of color rose on Snape's cheeks. "Fuck you, Black."
"You'd have to catch me first," Sirius said, flashing Snape a winning smile and tossing him a wink. Wait, what the hell was he doing? Was he flirting with Snape? Bloody hell. His mind really didn't work properly post-shag.
It was almost worth it when Snape's eyes went round as dinner plates and his jaw dropped open comically. Sirius couldn't hold back his bark of laughter. Snape shook his head and snapped his mouth shut. Obviously flustered, he stomped over to Sirius' bed, snatched up his tie and scarf, turned on his heel, and headed for the exit.
Just when it appeared as though he would storm out of the room in a fit of pique and mortification, Snape paused in the doorway. Slowly he turned his head to look back over his shoulder at Sirius. "Oh, and Black," he said, "I'd watch my back if I were you. Otherwise you might end up tied to my bed one day." With that, Snape disappeared through the entryway.
Sirius couldn't be sure whether Snape had intended for the remark to sound like innuendo, but Sirius' cock took it as such and twitched with renewed interest anyway. "Barmy, traitorous thing," Sirius muttered, scowling down at the offending member. He didn't have time to analyze Snape's words or his own reaction to them at that moment, though. Instead, he needed to destroy the evidence and figure out exactly what in Godric's name he was going to say when James asked if he'd enjoyed his gift. And how he was going to avoid blushing. Or looking guilty. Maybe he could pretend that he'd been Obliviated?
Bloody, buggering hell.
By the time the others returned from Hogsmeade, Sirius had decided that the best defense was a good offense. They'd barely made it through the door before he said, "Thanks for the pressie, mates. Best Christmas gift ever. It provided loads of entertainment it did. Your idea, I assume, Prongs?"
As he hung up his winter cloak and scarf, James said, "Pressie? As much as I'd like to take credit for whatever it was, I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Quit taking the piss, James." Sirius rolled his eyes. "It was obviously your style. Come on, tell me how you managed it, eh?"
"Honestly. As hard as it might be to believe, I'm completely innocent for once."
"Well, who did it, then?" Sirius demanded, fighting down a surge of alarm. This wasn't going as planned.
"Maybe you've got a secret admirer," Peter said. He waggled his eyebrows and popped a piece of Honeyduke's chocolate into his mouth.
Doing his best to cover his consternation, Sirius lifted his chin, tossed his hair back, and said, "Well, that would hardly be a surprise, would it? I am the best-looking, most desirable bloke in the school, after all."
James snorted. "The most arrogant prat with an over-inflated ego, you mean."
"My arrogance is entirely justified, I'll have you know. So, tell me what I missed today. Did any Slytherins develop inexplicable cases of festering boils? And did James manage to get a snog out of Evans yet, or did she hex him again?"
James and Peter began talking about the events of the day, but Sirius was so relieved to have successfully redirected the conversation that he didn't hear half of what was said. After a minute or two, though, he realized that Remus hadn't spoken at all since returning to the dorm. Suspicious, Sirius turned his head to the side and found Remus watching him with a vaguely amused and knowing expression.
Oh. Oh, that sneaking, scheming bastard
! A tiny, wicked smile curled the corners of Remus' mouth. Sirius felt like telling him that he should leave the smirking to Snape because Remus really was pants at it, the pillock. Sirius shot him a pointed glare which suggested that vengeance could potentially be swift, inventive, and painful, then resumed pretending to pay attention to James.
Sirius' misdirection bought him enough time to concoct a plausible but fairly boring story about the mysterious gift he'd mentioned before the subject came up again. The matter was subsequently dismissed with no commentary from Remus, thank Merlin, and the four wandered down to dinner shortly thereafter.
As he entered the Great Hall, Sirius' head turned automatically towards the Slytherin table. Snape was there at the far end, appearing as gawky and disagreeable as ever. He seemed to sense that he was being watched; his head came up and he met Sirius' gaze. The scowl that promptly followed appeared more confused and leery than truly despising, Sirius thought. It was an intriguing change.
Sirius recalled Snape's parting remark to him and simply couldn't resist having the last laugh. Running his fingers along the edge of his tie, he grinned devilishly at Snape. Then he mouthed the words, Catch me if you can.
This time the startled look followed by the calculating gleam in Snape's eyes was absolutely worth it.