InsaneJournal

[Fic] Unconquered (Severus/Sirius, NC-17)
Title: Unconquered
Author: Envinyatar (aka envinyatar15)
Pairing: Severus/Sirius
Rating: NC-17
Highlight for Warnings: *hate!sex/fight!sex, floor!sex*
Canon-compliance: none explicitly
Word Count: 3,280
Summary: Is there a need for this? Very well: Padfoot waits for prey. The resulting fight gets out of hand.

Notes: This fic goes back a looong time and I rediscovered it upon cleaning my harddrive. Many many thanks go to ur_a_funny_1 for the beta, and I think zebraspots05 touched this too, a year ago. Heh.

For 10_whores: #05 a midsummer night; 12_fics: #04 weapons; potterverse100: #95 face; lions_serpents: #28 harsh; challenge_the: #176 savage.


Sirius ran into Regulus late one night when he was coming back from the kitchens and heading back to Gryffindor Tower. At first they were only two shades in the half-dark of the castle, but soon enough they were staring at each other like they'd never seen the other before. It was amazing how you could avoid people, even when you were living in the same school.

"Sirius," Regulus said by way of greeting, calm and collected. He always had this air of control around himself, the little fucker; it was what annoyed Sirius the most.

Then Snape appeared around the closest corner and quickly walked up to them. He stopped where the brothers stood, his eyes glittering in the fire of the torches.

"Give me a moment," Regulus said over his shoulder. Snape eyed them suspiciously before nodding. He retreated down the corridor.

Sirius gave him enough time to disappear, a wary eye trained on his enemy's back. Then he turned back to Regulus. "Keep away from him, Reg," Sirius warned his little brother. "He's a fag. He'll corrupt you." Sirius had heard the tales, and he was not surprised.

Regulus smiled a thin smile, his eyes unreadable. "You're not my brother. Don't presume to act like him. He's dead." With that, he too turned away and walked off.

That was how it started. If Regulus denied he had a big brother, well - Sirius wouldn't deny he had a little brother. He'd make sure Snape stayed as far away as possible from Regulus, for his little brother's own good; and that was that.

*~*~*

Any moment now, things would be set into motion. Sirius felt it, or more precisely, the canine in him felt it. All his muscles tensed of their own accord, his fingers clenched, his stomach rumbled; he smelled him everywhere and readied himself for the instant he’d have to act.

Soon, now; only a few more minutes.

The patience required of him was hard to maintain. Sirius would like nothing more than to strip off James’ Invisibility Cloak and run to the Library to interrupt the secret meeting. He knew just what he’d lay eyes on: Snivellus taking advantage of Regulus, probably sinking his cock into his little bother’s arse, thrusting, balls flapping against flesh, and then…

No. Anything is better than to march in and see that.

The anger welling up within him was strong, fighting against the restraint he'd tied himself up with. Not yet. It wasn’t time. He’d catch Snape unawares and make it clear it was better if Snape stayed far away from Regulus; that was the plan and he would follow through with it. His brother had been a nuisance to him all his life and he barely knew him at all since he’d broken with his family, so it was a weird kind of protectiveness he felt, a reminder of the past when he had to look after precious little Regulus. No matter that his brother was a Slytherin and didn't want anything to do with Sirius; nothing as filthy as Snape should touch what was, however distant, his. But who knew what Regulus would do if he saw what Sirius planned to do with Snivellus? Perhaps he‘d stand up for Snape, try to protect him in his misguided state of mind? Perhaps do something else, but equally stupid?

That’s not a possibility. We’re talking about Snivellus, after all. He can’t make friends, only take advantage of people. Regulus is perfect for that - innocent, naïve, and easy to influence.

Sirius nodded in agreement with his inner voice’s words. Patience was the key. However little he had of it, tonight he’d make sure to stay where he was until the time came to act.

Padfoot growled.

*~*~*

Moments passed by and merged into seconds; seconds grew into minutes. In Sirius’ head, the clock was ticking and chiming every sixty seconds, marking another minute gone by.

Then, as he felt patience wear thin and slowly change into impatience – he hated listening to the silence – his sensitive ears heard steps coming closer. Sniffing the air, Sirius ascertained that it wasn’t someone unwelcome – Filch, for example, or one of the teachers – but the prey he was waiting for.

And indeed it was. It smelled of lanky hair and lying Slytherin and greying underpants, mixed with the underlying odour of Potions ingredients, and thankfully not of Regulus. There was no mistaking it: no one else but Snivellus was about to round the corner. Not only his instinct told him so, but every piece of evidence he could present pointed to him and made it fact. No one else would be able to understand his reasoning, but to him it was absolute certainty.

Sirius ducked into the shadows. It wasn’t necessary since he was still wearing James’ Cloak, but being out in the open wasn’t really to his taste. It made him feel vulnerable, strange as it might sound, and being neither visible nor audible didn’t soothe his subconscious.

His eyes darted to the wooden door opposite from where he was hiding, making sure that it indeed stood slightly ajar. It was essential that it was unlocked, otherwise he’d be fucked; well and truly fucked.

Staring into the semi-darkness of the castle, Sirius waited again, listening intently to the regular sound of thud, thud, thud, the heavy boots made on the stone floor. Louder and louder the steps became, heightening Sirius’ anticipation. Focusing entirely on the footsteps, not even the impatience had a claim on him any longer.

He could finally make out the figure rounding the corner, just visible in the unlit corridor. Clad all in black – but then at night, all cats were black – Snivellus reduced the distance between him and Sirius, his long strides speeding up the process. He passed a window, his face illuminated by the moon that shone outside. Decrescent moon and disgusting Sirius thought as his enemy’s face was clearly visible: Moony was never far from his thoughts.

Snape came closer and closer, his head held high. The difference between how the Slytherin looked now to how he usually looked was striking. Normally, he kept his head down and hid in the shadows, separated from anyone else. Sirius knew that, he’d seen him do it often enough, watched with glee how the greasy boy was shunned even from members of his own house. Although the way Snape normally carried himself always reminded Sirius of a snake – and he pretty much hated snakes since one had bitten him on a family holiday in Italy – he preferred it to tonight’s approach. It was creepy, to be able to look into the depths of Snape’s eyes glittering in the faint light.

All these thoughts, though, didn’t draw Sirius’ focus away from the imminent meeting. He leaned forward a little, ready to leap at Snape. One step, two…

Now!

Sirius jumped, the Invisibility Cloak still concealing him, and rammed Snape from the side with all his strength, the momentum of his movement adding force. Snape screeched in surprise – a horrible sound to Sirius’ ears – and stumbled, nearly falling to the floor. Sirius, however, grabbed his arm, stabilising him, and with effort, lugged him through the open door, smashing it shut with all his might. Once he let go of Snivellus, the coward lived up to his reputation by scrambling into a corner of the room, wide, scared eyes searching for an explanation of what had just happened. How convenient, then, that this room didn’t have any windows and it was pitch-black as a result. Well, not for Sirius since his senses were always heightened, but for everyone else who was not an Animagus. He could safely rip off the Cloak from his body and reveal himself, because he didn’t reveal himself by doing that. If something isn’t recognised, how can you speak of revelation?

Once the Cloak had flown to the floor, Sirius approached the figure in the corner. Snivellus had caught the sound of his footsteps, apparently, for he tried to merge into the wall behind him before he got a grasp on himself and scrambled back to his feet, wand drawn and with the posture of a man willing to defend himself.

Sirius smirked. Yes, Snape might just need that willingness. It wouldn’t be of any use to him, however, if things went well. Tap tap, he walked over to the corner in which Snape now stood, a shadow that stunk of fear and sweat. Sirius was hard-pressed not to turn around and walk away from the reek, but he had enough self-control in him to approach the other boy. His own wand was drawn too, just in case; he needed to be ready to block whichever curse Snape would fire at him. He had every confidence he could do it. Having been the heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Purebloods to the core and followers of the Dark, had made sure he’d learnt his fair share of Dark Magic, although he didn’t admit to it. No one knew but himself... and Regulus.

When he was within three steps of his opponent the Slytherin suddenly acted on hearing. Sirius was prepared for it – if Snape had done what was expected of him. But instead of hexing Sirius – whose identity Snape still couldn't know – he leaped at him, powerfully pushing off the floor and this time ramming Sirius full front. Sirius tried to turn away, but it was too unexpected a move for him to react quickly enough. His back crashed to the floor, which knocked all the air out of his lungs until Snape landed on top of him and breathing became completely impossible.

Both their wands were rolling through the room with an audible sound, which made Sirius more than slightly uneasy combined with his obvious lack of air. He tried to compensate his loss by opening his mouth and fighting for oxygen so perhaps he’d regain strength enough to get rid of Snape, but Snape now had the advantage over him. Hopefully Sirius would be able to get his wand back, although right now that was unlikely – he was overpowered.

The Plan was in serious danger of failure.

Snivellus partly pulled away from Sirius. His hands grabbed Sirius’ collar and shook him with a strength that surprised Sirius; he couldn’t hold back the embarrassing sounds of pain he made as his head repeatedly hit the floor. It wasn’t enough to lose consciousness, but quite enough to hurt him severely, which was probably Snape’s intention. If Snape was, by now, aware of whom his attacker was. On the other hand, if Snape knew it was Sirius, he wouldn’t only hurt him; he would be trying to kill him.

Sirius would gladly reciprocate, if he got the chance.

Currently he was in no position to think about such things, though. Random insults flipped through his mind, which was all he could concentrate on at the moment; his focus lay on the way Snape’s hair moved with his exertion, swinging up and down, up and down. He could barely see in the darkness of the room, the half-imagined lines on Snape’s face distorted with anger.

After what seemed liked an eternity of being at Snape's mercy, the Slytherin's anger seemed to abate and he let Sirius’ head fall from his hands. Instead Snape made a quick search for his arms and pulled them over his head where Snape held them in place, bruising Sirius’ skin. But Sirius was in no condition to fight; he was desperately gasping for air by now. Snape was heavier than he looked.

Snape leaned into him with his face barely inches from Sirius’ own now, hot breath burning on each other’s skin. The darkness had them moving as shadows, nothing more, except that Sirius could just make out the lines on Snape’s face that bespoke his fury.

"Who are you?" hissed Snape in the snakelike manner that seemed to be normal for all Slytherins. They were all the same cowardly people, just slithering through life. Sirius laughed at that thought, nearly choking on his own tongue. Snakes with the faces of Slytherins!

Snape growled at the sound of his laughter but waited for an answer, almost patiently if it weren’t for his tightening his grip on Sirius’ collar and on his arms.

In between his gasps, Sirius managed to ask, "Wouldn’t you like to know?"

Snape froze.

Damn. His voice must have given Sirius away. Now Snape knew; stupid oxygen-deprived brain.

A moment later Snape released Sirius’ arms and tugged at his hair instead. Sirius cried out in surprise, inwardly cursing himself for his weakness, but then he remembered his free arms and entangled one hand in Snape’s lanky hair in return.

Their grunts intermingled as their battle got rougher, hands not only pulling and pushing but also hitting and scratching. Snape constantly had the upper hand, however strongly Sirius tried to regain his original position of strength, but the Slytherin seemed to have got over his initial cowardice. Muscles didn’t mean any advantage here; it was all about the amount of anger that fed them. Before they got to the point of no return and did something stupid like severely injuring each other, though, Snape did something that Sirius would not forget all his life.

After a particularly painful hit from Sirius, Snape had obviously had enough. He didn’t hit back or return the favour in any other way that would result in more physical pain. No, what he did was pull Sirius’ face closer to his and crush their mouths together in what was unmistakably a kiss. Sirius stilled his movements for a second, utterly flabbergasted at what was happening, then a feeling seized him and he returned the kiss. It wasn’t one of those kisses that are born from love or affection or even attraction; it was one of the kisses that are purely about dominance. Teeth scraped against teeth, tongues duelled, a lip – his own, Snape’s, who knew – was split open. Still Sirius was dragging behind. The same instance that Sirius tried to match Snape in this part of the battle, Snape went even further. He thrust his hips forward and his hard cock brushed against Sirius’. Sirius groaned involuntarily, the intensity of it all too much; control was gone. He bit down hard on Snape’s lip, drawing blood, one hand in Snape’s hair again, the other at his arse, trying to gain more friction for his aching cock.

Snape complied in this silent request for more. Reaching down, he unbuckled Sirius' belt and unbuttoned his trousers, freeing him, then did the same himself, pushing their trousers down as far as he could reach. With a violent push, Snape turned Sirius around, simultaneously pulling his hips up in the air. Sirius’ erection bobbed between his legs; he was shaking with suppressed desire, The Plan and his anger forgotten. He needed to come now, or he’d die. Nothing else was important anymore, not even that this was Snape.

The Slytherin was over him, his chest pressing into Sirius’ lower back. Slicked fingers, Merlin knew where the lube came from, searched out Sirius' hole, quickly sliding in and stretching him until Snape curled them just so, and Sirius’ vision exploded in dazzling stars.

Abruptly, the fingers left him as he arched his back and prepared to rock back onto them. He instantly missed them there, deep inside of him, filling him, but they were replaced by something better: slowly, ever so slowly Snape’s cock pushed into him, sliding in inch by inch and splitting Sirius apart. Sirius' moan filled the air. There was lingering bitterness in his throat at his weakness, but he was past caring. All that counted was the glorious feeling of being fucked by cock.

For a moment Snape paused and allowed both of them to adjust to the feeling, then drew out almost completely and slammed back in. A harsh rhythm was soon established and Snape’s thrusts became more forceful, substantiating his claim on victory in their battle. Sirius was beyond objecting by now. He'd lost, and at the same time, gained. Snape's hands bruised the skin of Sirius’ hips, holding him in place. Not that Sirius wanted to struggle against what his body was used for, as his rational part told him he should. Instead, he met Snape’s powerful strokes by pushing back on the cock inside him.

The tension in his body and in his balls heightened quickly. His vision was already narrowing; he was fast approaching orgasm. Steadying himself on one hand, he reached for his prick with the other and pulled, once, twice, and was coming in a fountain, come spilling over his hand and onto the floor. It was the most intense feeling in the world, and nothing else mattered beside the cock inside him and the warmth spreading throughout his body, not the wrongness of it nor the reason for it.

The muscles at his entrance clenched around Snape’s cock as Sirius tensed. The Slytherin groaned loudly and let go completely, driving into Sirius with an abandon that prolonged the intensity of Sirius' orgasm. Soon Snape too reached the edge and was gone, with a rough jerk spilling himself into Sirius and then stilling.

Sirius needed a moment to regain control over himself as rationality came rushing back to him – and with it The Plan – but when he did and realised what had happened, his reaction was violent. Snape was still buried deep inside of him, trying to catch his breath and sense with it; Sirius unbent and turned around to push Snape away and, resultantly, out of his body. As soon as he was free of the Slytherin, Sirius stumbled away and out of his reach. His trousers, tangled at his ankles prevented a more speedy and elegant flight. Come dripped down his thighs, leaving a wet and cooling trail. With a grunt of loathing, Sirius cast Accio wand and, once he had it in his hand, a Cleansing Charm on himself and Lumos.

Snape was still lying on the ground where Sirius had pushed him off, now on his back with a satisfied smirk on his face, his spent cock still freed from any restraints.

Blowing his nostrils in a gesture of revulsion, Sirius stepped closer again, hoping to wipe that look from the other boy's disgusting features. "You rotter, you make me nauseous." Seeing Snape lying there like that made Sirius snarl. He spit on Snape, but the other waved it off with his hand. Sirius almost kicked him for that, the muscles in his leg twitching, but in the end he couldn't do it. "Keep away from my brother," Sirius warned over his shoulder as he turned around. "Or otherwise… I have something against you now."

As Sirius stormed out, he didn’t quite think about how he, too, had enjoyed it just as much as Snape apparently had, and how Snape, too, had something against him in hand, should he wish to use it. But the difference was that Sirius wasn’t queer. The experimental fumbling and mutual wanking with James in the darkness of the night didn’t count, oh no. That was just that: experimentation. Snape was of another calibre entirely.

Well, Sirius had brought across his point, at least, and although not in a fashion he had planned for, the result was all that mattered. Surely Snape would fear being exposed, and as a result be ridiculed even more, wouldn't he?

Even if he didn't, well. Snivellus would stay away from Regulus, whatever the cost to Sirius; he'd make sure of that.