Title: Mastery Over Him
Author: sabethea
Characters/Pairings: Severus/Sirius
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: hair-pulling
Other Warnings: Master/slave, hate!sex, humiliation
Word Count: ~2300
Summary/Description: Sirius shouldn't want Severus at all – but especially not in the way he does...
Author's Notes: There needs to be a slight suspension of disbelief. Sorry


Sirius shouldn't get hot for this. Fuck.

Sometimes Snape taunts him with what might happen if anyone knew – if James found out, for example, that Sirius got off on grovelling at Snape's feet. James would kill Sirius for that. And kill Snape, for good measure. Snivellus makes him take risks sometimes, forces him to 'perform' in semi-public; places where any second someone might pass by and see. Might pass by and see naked, collared Sirius kissing Snivellus Snape's feet; licking his enemy's boots clean; sucking Snape off as Snape controls him with fingers hooked through the rings on Sirius's collar.

Despite that, Sirius never refuses. Doesn't dare. He knows that Snape holds all the cards in the pack, because Sirius fucking lives for these moments. Even when Snape holds out on contacting him for a week or so, Sirius is a mess, his eyes following Snivellus wherever he goes while James suggests tricks they might play on the guy. And Sirius of all people can't admit what it is he's really thinking about. So when Snape says jump - or, rather, “kneel” - Sirius obeys before the word's even half finished.

And there's that moment, when Snivellus fastens the thick leather around Sirius's neck, when Sirius is so desperate, so hopeful that he's going to get fucked, so fucking grateful to be here, like this, whatever Snape chooses to do to him – at that moment, it's not just worth it, it's worth everything.

“Please,” Sirius whispers. He knows the word turns Snape on coming from his lips, flicks his gaze up to watch the faint pink flush slide across Snape's cheeks.

A hard slap that jerks Sirius's head sideways, leaves a ringing in his ears. “Did I say you could look at me?” snarls Snivellus.

The collar is fastened, and Sirius slides to his knees, imagining the imprint of Snape's hand across his face. “No.”

“No, what?”

“Master.”

Deep inside, Sirius knows there's something wrong with him – knows there must be if he needs this, if he's prepared to risk anything to be treated like a slave by someone he loathes. Snape's fingers curl in his hair, pulling it roughly.

“Say it again.”

“Master.” Snape pulls some more, and thrusts one of his legs between Sirius's, so that Sirius's engorged cock is pushing against Snivellus's calf. “Master... master.... Merlin, please,” he mutters.

“Again.” Severus backhands him across the face.

“Please. Master, please. Please.”

Snape hits him harder. “Louder.”

Sirius chokes on a groan of pain: Snape spared him nothing in that blow. “Please. Please.” He is almost crying with need already.

Severus lets him go, and Sirius collapses at his feet, one hand moving to touch his aching cock.

“Did I give you permission?” Snivellus says, voice quiet and malevolent.

“No.” Sirius realises his mistake a second before the kick lands painfully against his ribs. “Master. No, master.”

“No.” Severus looks down at him; Sirius can feel the heat of that gaze on the back of his neck. “Do you want to come today?”

Sirius bites down on his lip. If he says yes, Snape will refuse him permission out of malice; if he says no, Snape will rightly call him a liar.

“It's your choice, master.”

This time, it is not so much a kick as Severus removing Sirius from his vicinity by means of his boot. “I know it is my choice, Black. It is always my choice. Now, do you want me to beat the answer out of you, or are you prepared to tell me?”

Snape's beatings can be ferocious. Sirius refuses to admit that he's scared of them, but he feels cold fear wash over him at the threat.

“Yes,” he whispers.

Snape walks around Sirius's naked, trembling body until he is stood behind him. Then he bends down, and slips a finger through one of the collar's hoops, tugging until Sirius's head jerks back towards him.

“Yes, what?” he murmurs in Sirius's ear. “Yes, I should beat you?”

“I want to come. Master,” Sirius adds quickly, despising himself.

“You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to fuck you so hard you scream?”

“God, yes.” Sirius is so hard it hurts.

“You're going to have to work for it.”

“Anything.” Sirius hates himself for this later, always.

“Give me your wand.”

There are some things which are beyond possibility. Sirius giving up his wand to Snivellus Snape is one of those things. Snivellus hates him: the wand is the only protection Sirius has. He'll give up his pride, his clothes – but his wand always stays within reach, even when Sirius is at his most vulnerable. Especially when Sirius is at his most vulnerable.

“I can't.”

Snape shrugs. “Fine.”

“Please...” Sirius whines. “Anything else.”

“Sure, Black,” Severus's voice is cold. “I can clearly trust you. All our experiences have proved that, haven't they? You're too much of a coward, just as I always knew.” He turns away, leaving Sirius naked and desperate.

“No.”

“No?”

Sirius's hands are shaking. “Take it,” he says, before he can change his mind.

“It,” mocks Snape, “or you?”

“Both.” The word is out before Sirius can shut his stupid big mouth up. Merlin, does he really have to scatter the last remains of his pride in front of Snivellus?

“Accio.”

Sirius watches as his wand soars into Snape's hand. Snape holds it for a second in both hands, looks like he's about to snap it; and Sirius opens his mouth to protest – then closes it again, realising that this is all it would probably take to make Snape do it, out of spite. But Merlin, Snape looks hot when he's getting off on the power he has over Sirius. He's slimy and greasy – but so high on power that Sirius can almost feel lightning sparking from Snape's skin. The buzz Sirius always gets from him is almost painful, even before Snape hits him.

Severus is leaning against the wall about five metres from him, Sirius's wand in his grasp. His face is no more pleasant than usual, but instead of looking sulky, he looks arrogant, dripping with confidence. Whereas Sirius – who has been called both confident and arrogant with good reason – is a pathetic humble heap. Hoping, desperately, to get fucked.

“Crawl,” instructs Snape, his black eyes burning with heat.

It feels like he can see into Sirius's mind, and Sirius panics. He can't, can he? He can't see all the shameful, dirty, goddamn demeaning images going through Sirius's mind? Please, Merlin, if he can, just let Sirius die now of humiliation. Fuck, what they do is bad enough; the things Sirius thinks of are just – just -

“I said crawl,” Snape hisses at him furiously.

“Master.”

Sirius crawls towards him, aware of the hard cock swinging between his legs as he does so. He wants to touch himself – he needs to touch himself. Severus will probably snap both his wands if he does. Crouched over at Snape's feet, he looks up at him imploringly; and sees the closest thing to a smile that he's ever seen on the other boy's face.

“Go on then,” Snape says, shoving his robes aside. “Lick me.”

Sirius almost moans his gratitude, lengthening his neck and taking the very tip of Severus's (abnormally large) cock into his mouth. For a second, Sirius thinks he's going to come, just from this... then thinks about what Snape might do to him if he comes without permission. Sirius likes his cock – he loves his cock – he is attached to his cock and would rather stay that way if
nobody minds.

Snivellus's breathing has started hitching; the point at which Sirius knows that Snape needs this too, the desperation on both sides, not just Sirius's. Snape must have dropped Sirius's wand, because his hands are back in Sirius's hair, tugging so hard that Sirius thinks his hair might come out in handfuls. He knows Snape wouldn't care if it did, and that should not, it should not, be a turn on. Snivellus is fucking his mouth now, back and forth until Sirius thinks he might vomit. At the same time, he wants more – how fucked is that? He hears himself groaning around Snape's cock, pathetic whines emanating from him. Severus laughs, and lets go of Sirius's hair, kicking out so that Sirius falls backwards.

“Hands and knees,” Snape says, his voice wavering on the edge of control. “Now.”

“Master.”

Sirius turns over, waiting to be fucked – desperate to be fucked. He flinches as something is brought down, hard, on his back. Once, twice, three times. Sirius is being beaten with his own wand. He won't cry out, he won't – but the last stroke is harder still, and Sirius's breath hisses between his teeth.

“I could fuck you with it, too,” Severus says quietly. “I'm sure you've done it yourself, haven't you? Slid this wand into your arse, moved it back and forth inside you pretending it's a cock. Do you imagine it's mine? Or do you not care whose it is, as long as you get off?”

Sirius says nothing. He'd rather Snape thought he'd fuck anyone. Far rather. Far rather than the truth, which is that he needs Snape, needs him desperately. The wand slaps down again, so hard that Sirius fears it will break.

“Answer me,” Snape hisses.

“Please,” Sirius whines.

Severus puts his fingers through the rings in the back of Sirius's collar and tugs hard enough that Sirius chokes.

“Stop whimpering,” he says coldly. “If you want to be fucked tonight, you're going to have to make it worth my while.”

Sirius has given up his pride, he's given up his wand. He doesn't have anything more to give, Sirius thinks desperately. It's again as if Snape can hear him; the other boy adds:

“You'll come when I tell you to. Not before. And you'll do it right away when I say, unless you want me to bind your prick so tightly with magic that you won't even be able to piss without my permission.”

He'd do it, too, Sirius knows. “Yes. S-Master,” he says, stumbling over the words in his haste.

Sirius feels the cold lubricated wood of his own wand pressing against his anus. This is so wrong; he'll never be able to cast another spell without thinking of Snape fucking him this way. Which Snape knows. Sirius is beginning to think that Snape knows everything, and he shivers involuntarily at the idea, strangely unsure whether he loves or loathes the thought. He ought to loathe it – but then he ought to loathe what he is doing, here and now. Somehow his cock doesn't seem to hate the same things Sirius's rational mind does.

The wand is sliding inside him, and Sirius closes his eyes and tries not to arch back into the feeling. It's too good, he's too desperate; but he won't come... mustn't come. Not without permission. A wave of self-hatred washes unexpectedly over Sirius. Usually, he is too caught up in the moment to think much about what is happening. But trying not to orgasm without permission has caused him to think of anything that doesn't turn him on – or, in this case, to see what does turn him on in a harsher light.

Snape tugs his head back by the hair, and whispers: “Do you want my prick there instead, Black? Do you want me to thrust into you so hard that you think you'll split apart?”

“No,” says Sirius weakly, meaning 'yes'.

“Liar.”

Sirius's eyes are already shut but he scrunches them up further, hating Snivellus for exposing his untruth.

“Never mind,” says Snape. “I'm going to do you anyway. And you're not going to complain, are you, Black?”

“No,” Sirius says again, this time truthfully.

Snape pulls out Sirius's wand and throws it disdainfully against the wall, where it clatters to the floor. Sirius opens his eyes to watch its progress, but is prevented from turning his head from the firm grasp Severus still has on his hair. He is released for a second as Snape positions himself and pushes into him; then, the hand is threading back through his dark hair, the fingertips resting against his scalp.

“Remember,” Snape says, “not to come until I say. Understand?”

Sirius makes a small note in his throat, intended to be acknowledgement. But this is apparently not enough; the hand in his hair lets go long enough to slap the side of his head with force.

“Do you understand?” hisses Severus.

Sirius closes his eyes again. “Yes. Master.”

Then Snape is fucking him, and he hasn't got breath to say anything, hasn't got mind to do anything but concentrate on not coming, not coming until Severus says he may. Snape is moving faster and faster and it is close to unbearable; Sirius is close to breaking down and grabbing his own cock, which is so hard it actually hurts. Just as he thinks he can bear it no longer, Snape says “Now;” and it doesn't even take a touch to make him come.

He is faintly conscious of Severus's orgasm, but it's almost an irrelevance right now, when Sirius's own desperate need has finally been sated. He isn't even really aware when Snape pulls out, pulls his clothes on, accios the collar from Sirius's neck. Sirius has lost himself, and is re-finding himself, once again, through Severus Snape. Snape bends to pick up Sirius's wand, and throws it contemptuously towards him.

Sirius shouldn't get hot for this, but he does. He always always does.