Please stuff my stocking with:
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Ron/Draco, Harry/Draco, Sirius/Remus, Sirius/Kingsley, Snape/Sirius, Snape/Moody, oh, hell, any male who's usually a hung stud in fanon/any male who might enjoy discovering that he's neither hung nor a stud
Kink(s): small cock
Coal (AKA Squicks): "the usual", non-con, sex god!Snape
Prompt: According to the rumors, [Character X] has a huge cock. In reality, he has a cock that's decidedly below average in size. He's worked hard to keep anyone from finding out his dirty little (ha) secret. But now someone's found out the truth -- and it seems that someone likes it...

Will come back with ficcage...must go and take a cold shower first!

Everyone knows that size of a man's hands and feet were indicators of the natural endowments below the belt. That the better hung a stallion, the better the bedding, and the sweeter the repeated rewards.

He'd heard that, or variations on the theme, for years. Unfortunately, he knew it was a lie perpetrated by others like him, and he had to live up to it or bring shame on his people and their glorious history...

Unless there was someone out there willing to make do with just what God gave him and natural intelligence had enhanced? He shook his head at the absurdity. No, no one wants a man with a small cock...

^V^V^

Severus Snape was snide, rude, a bit hirsute, and an all-around git. But, rumour had it that he was hung as well as any thoroughbred racing around England. The same—in varying degrees—could be said for Mad-eye Moody and Sirius Black. If asked, there were a few good witches and wizards that would corroborate the stories. If one was diligent, and had a limitless supply of Veritaserum, they could even find one or two leading lights to agree.

Now, after the all the fighting, and all the healing that had to come with it, Severus was laid up in a cottage tucked in hills cutting through a corner of the Forbidden Forest. He shared it with Mad-eye Moody, Sirius Black, and a sheepish, much put-upon Ron Weasley. Of them all, it was punishment for Weasley as Snape was being held in an enchanted healing sleep, Moody was busy regrowing his one human leg, and Black was working through being unexpectedly ejected out of the Veil and into the middle of a pitched battle between Professors McGonagall and Hooch over Oliver Wood's, ah, natural woody knob, which Ron had the poor taste to overhear graphically described in shudderingly fulsome detail by the elderly women, and being right there, he'd been elected Sirius-keeper for the duration.

Now, Ron was no mediwitch. It was just too bad that he was privy to all sorts of rumour-breaking information he couldn't share with anyone. He was a strategist, an Order of Merlin-First Class recipient, and Harry Potter's other best friend. He was not—as he told himself for the sixth time that day—cut out to be chief cock-and-ball washer extraordinaire for three over-the-top and unwilling heroes of the Light while Harry was out cutting a swath through the ladies and Hermione was reclaiming her parents. In fact, he was just a workhorse.

"Weasley! Oi, you lanky ginger, c'mere and check Snape!"

Ron rolled his eyes at Moody's bellow and stood up slowly. Since there were only three rooms in the cottage, Ron got the one closest to the door while the largest one was shared by the comatose Snape and Mad-eye, and Black got the last one. All of which meant Ron was kept running back and forth from noon until night until Moody and Black fell asleep.

"Coming, master," Ron groused under his breath as he tapped his wand against magical mirror Poppy had charmed to show Snape's current condition at any time. He saw that the greasy bat had twisted himself into his covers again, barely on the bed this time, and he hurried down the hall to get him back in the middle of the mattress before he bashed in his own head with a fall onto the floor.

"Moody, you know you could haul yer arse out of that bed yourself and push Snape back onto his bed." Ron tucked his wand away and manually shifted Snape onto his mattress, pulling out the sheets and blankets that he'd tangled himself in during some unknown violent dream. He didn't pay close attention to what he was doing, revealing Snape's hairy legs and the rucked-up nightshirt Poppy insisted he wear. He didn't notice Mad-eye's magical eye quiver to a stop as Snape's penis was uncovered, nor the faint flush on his weathered face as he saw how it curled in the nest of kinky sable curls. He also didn't notice Sirius Black peering into the room, unaccountably quiet at the sight of Snape's cock being picked up gently so Ron could tug down the man's nightshirt.

If Ron had noticed, he most likely wouldn't have believed the lust in their eyes or maybe he would have, but then, he'd have had to Obliviate himself .

^V^V^

That night, after Ron fell into his own lonely bed, Moody manoeuvred himself out from under his duvet and carefully travelled the ten feet to Snape's bed. He dragged the chair nearby over to the bedside and sat down with a pained huff as he watched Snape's measured breaths.

The enchanted healing sleep was set to expire in another two weeks, which was when Moody's leg was supposed to be ready for weight-bearing. Moody leaned forward and gently tugged the sheet and blankets down from under Snape's chin inch by inch until he'd dragged them down to the middle of the other man's chest. He cocked his head to the side and listened, he'd thought he heard the scrape of a boot or shoe in the hallway, but after several minutes there were just the typical sounds of a cottage in the Highlands during late summer, and he kept pulling away the obscuring covers until they were bunched over Snape's knees. Then, with greater care, he plucked up the hem of the nightshirt and lifted it away to fold it on Snape's chest.

He licked his lips at the sight of Snape's cock. He'd overheard that child Pansy Parkinson whispering about how it was so monstrous that she'd only been able to suck the very head of it in gratitude for Snape saving her mother from Voldemort. Hestia Jones had once drunkenly told him that being fucked by Severus Snape was like taking a velvet-covered log into one's body. Even James Potter, Merlin keep him, had confided in Moody that he'd caught sight of Snape's meat cleaver and wished—for a scant half hour—that he was inclined that way as it had been long and silky-looking.

Mad-eye licked his lips again. The cock that seemed to be filling under his heated gaze was nothing short of...well...short. It would be, perhaps, five inches when fully aroused. It was uncut, the sheathing hood of skin fully hiding the glans from his sight. He'd often wondered if he could hex Snape's mouth shut with impunity and fuck him to the side of the Light, but seeing how sweet his little cock was, Moody thought he would have been better off dropping to his knees and worshipping the good mouthful. He reached out and stroked one finger from the base of it to the top, glancing up every few seconds to see if Snape's enchantment was breaking, but it held, and he continued his touching, turning the light strokes into his whole hand wrapping easily around Snape's cock and drawing the blood up into to make it stiffen into, yes, five inches of mouth-watering pleasure.

Before he bent forward to partake of his unexpected treat, Moody regretfully released that lovely small cock and pulled his wand from his forearm holster. He pointed it at the door and cast a locking and silencing charms, with a bit of a alarm spell mixed in so he'd have time to set things to rights if anyone else was up and about. Then, with that out of the way, he put away his wand and scooted closer to bend over and just mouth Snape's cock, the fingers of his right hand curling down to roll the bollocks below in time with his breaths.

He'd always secretly loved the story of Sleeping Beauty, the idea of finding a quiescent body, laid out in silence, just waiting for the first man to caress it, to bring it to life with a firm application of virility...he shook the fantasy out of his head and let his lips close over the top of Snape's penis, suckling gently as he rolled the skin collar down to introduce the dark cockhead to his questing tongue. He tasted a bit sour, but he was all man. Moody hummed tunelessly and was surprised when Snape's legs fell open and the man groaned.

Moody stilled with Snape's cock on his tongue and his eyes darting up the lean body to see if there were dark eyes staring back at him, but no, Snape was still held in Morpheus' arms and his small cock was nestled quite easily inside Moody's mouth, pleasant weight on his tongue. He pulsed his mouth around it, bobbing up and down in a varying rhythm as it stiffened even more under his attentions. He pressed his other palm down on his own dick as it throbbed under his robes. It had been years since he'd sucked off someone with such a delightfully small cock and his body was responding most delightedly.

Finally, Moody's neck was getting tired so he pushed down until his nose was in Snape's short and curlies and he began swallowing. The prick was too small to be stuck in his throat, but the motion massaged the cockhead and soon Snape's spunk filled his mouth, a slightly sour flavour that Moody kept in his mouth until he pulled off of that small mouthful and spit into a pile of dirty tissues in the trash nearby. He leaned back after wiping out his mouth with another tissue and then pushed aside his robes to fist himself and come with a sighing grunt. He wanted to doze right there, but circumstances being what they were, he set Snape to rights, banished the spunky tissues, slowly hobbled back to his own bed, and, as an afterthought, removed his spells with a tired flick of his wand.

^V^V^

Ron got up at six o'clock, as per the usual, but it was only when he was sipping his coffee that he realized he hadn't been shouted awake by Mad-eye Moody's morning bellows. He wandered through the small kitchen and into the hallway outside the other bedrooms, listening. He heard Black moving around, but the room with Moody and Snape was quiet...too quiet.

Ron opened the door without knocking and found Moody splayed out across his bed, his regrowing leg stuck out from under the covers. Snape was in the centre of his bed, strangely enough with a slight smile twisting his lips. Ron shook his head and pulled the door closed until the lock engaged and then he stepped away.

He didn't see Sirius lurking in the shadows, his eyes fixed steadily on the closed door.

^V^V^

Later that week, Moody was called into St. Mungo's for an evaluation by the physio-healers. They'd used a newly-minted Skel-E-Gro and Chameleon Regrowing Charm on him and had to access the efficacy. Or, in his words, they wanted to make certain other parts of him weren't growing again and if so, they wanted a ride on them. Ron was thrilled to escort the barmy perv leaving Sirius—still awfully quiet and lurker-ish to watch over Snape's quiescent form.

Which explained why Sirius was sitting at Snape's bedside and staring at the beaky nose, the bushy eyebrows, the sallow skin, and wondering silently how the Slytherin Sex God came to have a less than average prick one could suck with such ease.

Sirius crossed his arms and remembered one of Lily's insults to James—before she discovered the joys of his manly arms: "James Potter, if you had one tenth the prick that hangs between Severus' legs you'd fall over dead at the heft of it! Toe-rag!" Sirius had always wondered how she'd come to have such intimate knowledge, but she was Muggleborn, and they were strange, so he didn't wonder about it for too long.

Now, though, he was curious as to if what he'd seen had been the truth, since so many things didn't make sense these days. So, with somewhat idle curiosity, he reached out and stripped the covers from Snape's body and found that nightshirt once again rucked up and revealing Snape's penis in all its small glory. He studied with an intense gaze, noting the pulsing large vein and the thick musky scent he'd released by removing the sheet and blanket. The scent was vibrant and thick, somehow, as if Snape's cock had been recently handled and was cooling down now.

He bent closer, following his nose and stilled in that strange position as Snape muttered something unintelligible under his breath when Sirius' long hair fell onto his stomach. Intrigued, Sirius turned his head this way and that, drawing out sighs and grunts with each swipe of his locks. He winced a bit as he bent over more so that he could inhale Snape's warm aroma from the source. He didn't expect Snape's hands to suddenly come up and push his face right directly into Snape's awakening, stiffening cock!

"Like what you see, Black," Severus growled. He ground Sirius' face into his groin. Which was not the typical response someone has to another person sniffing their genitals, but Sirius let that thought alone for the time being. He was too busy sucking in the odour of vital, alive Snape...and strangely enough, enjoying it. Though, he did open his mouth to respond to the vitriol Snape was heaping on him only to end up with that small, but quite adequately-a-mouthful of cock on his tongue.

"Black...you blood—blood—oh, God, just suck me, you wanker!" Severus finally groaned as he flopped back on his pillows.

Sirius let that thought roam around his head for a nanosecond, decided it was good, and proceeded to suck Snape's cock and nuzzle his fine patrician nose into the short curls becoming saturated in eau de turned-on Snape. With any swirling of his tongue around Snape's cock—which was quite easy and not at all as tiring as it had been sucking James or Remus' cocks—Sirius found he could make Snape wheeze out a string of profanities that read like suggestions. So, when he'd got Snape to repeat the words Fuck me, you canine whore, he took to it like a flea to a dog's arse and wriggled a spit-dampened index finger into Snape's arse.

There he discovered that it was Snape's arse that was bottomless, the sphincter muscles barely restraining his intruding finger, or the other two he added. When Snape's words gave way to a soft keening, Sirius pulled off of what was fast becoming his favourite kind of pacifier and stood up to undo his trousers. With them around his ankles he looked at Snape, gestured to the space between the git's legs and grinned widely when those selfsame appendages spread far wider than they needed to. He kicked off his pants and his trousers and climbed between them to just stick his cock into that dark hole and let gravity and nature have their ways.

Soon, Snape's mouth was open, but there was no sound coming from it. Sirius was doing all the grunting and groaning for the two of them until Snape's legs snapped up and over Sirius' hips. Then it was a flurry of thrusts up and down and a bit sidewise and one of them was coming with a hoarse shout which pulled the other one over the edge into his own orgasm...and then they were kissing, stealing the breath from each other's lungs as the aftershocks rolled through them.

Sirius came back to himself snuggled against Snape's side, his bare leg over both of Snape's, one hand curled protectively over that gloriously wonderful small cock.

"I never took you for a necrophiliac, Black," Snape said drily from somewhere above Sirius' head, which was odd since Sirius was so much taller than he, but, oh well!

Sirius opened his mouth to deny it, but the words that spilled out weren't anywhere near what he'd been thinking. "I died, you prat. You were laid out like a corpse. It seemed natural."

Snape chuckled, the vibration making his cock brush up against its large and manly Black cocoon. Sirius' hand curled even closer.

"Want to share a room with you now you're awake," Sirius finally said.

"Well, that's mighty fine for you, but what do I get out of it?" Snape asked in an almost bored tone.

"Well, Moody won't be sucking you off anymore, but I can guarantee you won't miss his efforts if you let me take care of that morsel of prick you've got between your legs." Those were more words strung together at once than Sirius had said in the three weeks since he'd reappeared in the land of the living. It almost exhausted him, but he had to hear Snape's response...

"Hmm, if I kept ol' Mad-eye, I'd get twice the sucking, but if I keep you, I get sucking and fucking. Oh, my, what a harddecision I have to make," Snape said against Sirius' head. He bucked his hips under Sirius' hand so that it could wrap completely around his very interested cock. "I'll just have to try you out once more, to compare being fully aware to just regaining consciousness...and that might take some time to assess all the variables."

^V^V^

When Ron returned with Moody, he found the other man's things in the kitchen and the hallway, and a torn piece of parchment stuck to the room he'd shared with Snape:

"Snape woke up. We fucked. I'm keeping him. ~ Sirius Black"

Moody stared at the wall, his face getting redder and redder and then he turned abruptly away to start hobbling toward Sirius' old room. "They're welcome to each other. I only suck small cock, I don't take it."

Ron's ears burned as he rushed to the Floo to beg Poppy to send an Obliviator.

~~~ En Fin ~~~

Wooooow, so long!!! I'll be back to read ASAP; I just have to catch up on a few things...

Fine by me...we'll be waiting...you know how good Draco is at waiting, right? *grin*

Ack, I'm so sorry it's taking me ages to get over and read/comment! I've been buried in mod stuff... o_O Once the initial BB wish claiming madness is over, I'll be able to get my ass over here properly!

-Rowan, who is in the middle of mod work and can't be arsed to log in and out (and in and out and in...) of multiple accounts just now :P

Thanks, Rowan!