If This Be Madness Title: If This Be Madness Author:sweetmelodykiss Pairing: Sirius Black/Severus Snape Rating: NC-17 Prompt #7: Sirius makes a decision. (Suggested by mindabbles) Warnings: Dark fic, bottom Snape, non-con, breath play, bondage, torture, but not too graphic, kind of a happy ending. None of this is overly descriptive. It‘s more implied than visual. Note: Quote 1 by Napoleon Bonaparte, Quote 2 by Samuel Johnson, Quote 3 by Edgar Allan Poe, Quote 4 by RD Lang. Word Count: 2100 Disclaimer: I do not own them. All are owned by JKR. No harm intended. Beta: A huge thanks to my wonderful beta ivylady!
“The great proof of madness is the disproportion of one’s designs to one’s means.” ~~~~~~
The years in Azkaban had not been kind to Sirius Black. Remus knows Sirius is off somehow, slightly damaged, but he never realizes just how mad Sirius truly is. Sirius puts up a good front whenever Harry or Remus is present, but in the darkness of his own room his thoughts become disjointed and madness beckons. Ethereal voices of Dementors play tricks on his mind and crazed screams from nearby cellmates call out to him, begging for a rescue that would never come.
Sirius constantly finds himself having murderous thoughts. To him, they aren't important. It's the same as him fancying a smoke even though he gave up smoking years ago. But Sirius thinks it is something about Grimmauld Place that brings it on. The dark brooding atmosphere, the screaming portrait of his mother, the long winter nights and the lack of sex all combine to drive his twisted fantasy further towards the surface.
The whole place makes him think of death, but in a good way. He thinks of someone else’s death. Someone whose only purpose is to give him the pleasure of seeing death, preferably someone that no one gives a damn about. Sirius has the perfect person in mind. He thinks about it more often now. Sirius is a man convicted of murder, but a man who has never actually committed one, at least not yet.
At night, Sirius’ dreams swell with images of sex, violence and strangulation. Sirius has considered using a knife, but he hates the sight of blood. Strangling would be so much cleaner and he wouldn’t have to see any gore. Unforgivables are just too impersonal for Sirius’ taste. He’s more of a hands on kind of guy. He wants to look his victim in the eye while he’s choking the life out of him.
The light gradually ebbing out of black eyes, pulse slowing into nothingness, body going limp beneath him. If this be madness, Sirius no longer cares.
Another few days of winter doldrums and Sirius' fragile grip on reality finally snaps. Alone in the house for God knows how long with Remus away on order business, Sirius’ fantasies become a reality with a twist of fate and a blink of an eye.
After that fateful night, Severus never knew whether he’d stepped into a nightmare or a dream come true.
~~~~~~ "There is no man whose imagination does not sometimes predominate over his reason, who can regulate his attention wholly by his will, and whose ideas will come and go at his command. No man will be found in whose mind airy motions do not sometimes tyrannize, and force him to hope or fear beyond the limits of sober probability." ~~~~~~
As Sirius sips on some Jameson’s whisky, there’s a slight noise. Snape is waking up, or just dreaming a nasty dream, maybe. When Sirius looks around, sure enough, he can see Snape’s left hand twitching feverishly. It started out with Snape’s wrists cuffed separately and suspended each from on high--just so that his knees were almost dragging the floor but not quite. Midway through the first night, however, Snape started making such a racket that Sirius couldn’t sleep and he didn’t want to use a silencing charm because what fun would that be? Sirius finally gave in and strapped up Snape by his shoulders and just cuffed his wrists behind him. Almost three days passed in that fashion, with Snape finally passing out from exhaustion that afternoon.
Snape’s skin is pink all over now and Sirius never thought he’d find himself attracted to him, but strangely enough, he is. Sirius, having had the time to browse Snape’s body at his own pace, finds it quite appealing. Snape's skin has a porcelain-like fragility, and his long, dark eyelashes flutter in protest when Sirius touches him. Even better still is when Snape gets particularly upset: he tosses his head back a little, sending his mane of dark locks cascading even further than normal down his tensed spine.
Sirius decides that Snape is beautiful.
The light is fading and Sirius finds himself staring at Snape again, hanging there pink and perfect. His senses fill with an overwhelming desire to satisfy his hunger at all cost. Sirius unstraps him, supporting his frame and Snape lets out an audible sigh. Sirius drags Snape to the bed and lays him out, pushing his knees behind his head. Snape cries out when Sirius plunges inside him. Black is so overwhelmed with desire that he doesn't even think to prepare himself or Snape. Snape is still moist from last time, but Sirius pays no heed to Snape's state. Sirius takes him slowly, prolonging his pleasure until he feels as if he will explode. He brings Snape with him, however unwillingly, lightly stroking his cock, running his thumb over the tip as he rocks inside him.
Moans echo in Sirius’s ear and Snape's eyes roll back in his head. Three days, they’ve been at it, and for three days straight, Sirius has wondered when Snape will break. But he does not. Snape doesn't break, not for him, not for anyone. Snape arches his back and comes all over Sirius’s hand, shudders wracking his body and driving Sirius over the edge with him. When Sirius comes back to himself, Snape is unconscious again and he doesn’t even bother to chain him back up. He straightens him out, pulls him onto the pillow and lays down beside him, tossing a blanket over them.
As the hall clock strikes midnight, Severus starts to stir again.
“You must really like a bit of torture?” Sirius whispers in his ear.
“No,” Severus breathes out.
“Oh, but I think you do.”
“If you already knew, why did you bother to ask?” Severus thinks that for once, Black might have a valid point about him and torture.
That kind of defiance is simply begging for a nonverbal response. Sirius heats up his vibrator and sets it next to Snape’s left nipple. Snape gasps and shrinks back, a faint burn mark evident on his chest already.
“Want this inside you?” Sirius laughs.
“…don’t…” came the faint protest.
Sirius smirks and sets the probe aside. He spells Severus in place and goes to the kitchen to retrieve some wine. When he returns, he frees Snape and gives him some of the wine through a straw. Snape gazes at Sirius, searching his eyes for any trace of sanity. Sirius leans in and follows the wine with a kiss, a gentle one. It is the first time Sirius has touched Severus’s lips with his own.
Sirius notices that there is no reluctance on Snape’s part; he greedily accepts Sirius’s tongue.
“Your lips are sweet,” Sirius whispers and plunges his tongue deep inside Severus’s mouth.
Severus groans, wrapping his arms tightly around Sirius’s too thin waist and kisses back, exploring the recesses of his mouth.
’What kind of madness is this?' Severus asks himself, but his soul laughs at him because he already knows the answer.
Sirius hangs him up again; the gentle fuck is over. Snape doesn’t even wiggle after the brutal fucking and Sirius thinks he’s finally broken him. Severus’s head hangs back, his throat and strong profile silhouetted beautifully against the soft moonlight cascading through the window.
'He looks dead,' Sirius thinks, a wave of panic flowing over him.
He doesn’t want Snape to die like this. It’s not part of his fantasy.
Sirius approaches from behind and can see Snape's still alive. The man's breaths are shallow, like those of a resting animal, visible only when paying close attention to his chest. Sirius touches the roots of Snape's hair, trailing his fingers through the length. Snape remains silent, unflinching. Sirius is not sure what makes him decide, but he knows it’s time to take him down.
Sirius releases his bonds and carries Severus over to the bed. He lays him down gently and Severus refuses to open his eyes. His body is gorgeous in its agony, the blues and greens around his wrists meld into deep red welts just below his palms. The bruising just visible between Snape's thighs brings a smile to Sirius' face.
Sirius finds himself gently soothing the salty traces from beneath his eyes and still he doesn’t stir. A slight shiver sets his lips quivering and Sirius covers him with the heavier duvet. He crawls in beside Severus and shares his body heat with the trembling man. Nestled next to his prey, Sirius sleeps.
~~~~~~ When light breaks through the bedroom window, Sirius shakes Snape’s shoulder lightly earning himself a murmur of protest and a whimper. Sirius whispers Snape's name and fondles his neck, and Snape finally responds to an extent, touching his chin against Sirius’s hand. Sirius bends to kiss him tenderly on the lips and Severus lets out a slight sob before extending a weak arm to keep him there. Sirius lies transfixed. He’s never felt anything so intimate. With that simple action, Severus owns him in a way he’d never imagined. ~~~~~~
~~~~~~ “A lunatic may be “soothed,”... for a time, but in the end, he is very apt to become obstreperous. His cunning, too, is proverbial, and great.... When a madman appears thoroughly sane, indeed, it is high time to put him in a straight jacket.” ~~~~~~
Once again, Sirius fucks him slowly, gently, missionary so that he can look into Snape's obsidian eyes. This is it, the moment Sirius has waited for, longed for. The time has come. With one hand wrapped tightly around Severus’s cock, Sirius swiftly strokes him to climax. Just as Snape comes hard, Sirius wraps both hands around Snape's throat and squeezes. It’s thrilling, exhilarating even, to watch as comprehension dawns in the dark depths of Snape’s eyes.
The light is gradually ebbing out of black eyes, the pulse is slowing into nothingness, the body going limp beneath him. If this be madness…Sirius suddenly realizes how much he cares.
Sirius makes a decision.
He pumps his cock into Snape one more time and comes. His hands slip from Severus’s throat and he collapses on top of the gasping man. Trembling arms wrap around Sirius’s waist and hold him tightly like before. ~~~~~~
Sirius feels the cold cut of hot leather treating the flesh of his back, slicing neat lines across and between his shoulder blades for the tenth time in succession. Yes, he’s counting as Snape cracks the whip. Severus recovered quickly from his ordeal after a thorough cleaning and healing by a very contrite Sirius Black. Sirius’ face presses against the floor as he looks sideways at Snape. He can see the rapture in his demeanor as he builds up for each strike. Snape didn’t even have to restrain him; Sirius went willingly to his knees. The whipping continues, and finally Sirius loses count.
When he regains consciousness, he is lying in the bed and Snape is smiling down at him frighteningly. His back feels like it's on fire, the pain is exquisite, and the beginnings of sanity start to nudge at Sirius’s mind. He smiles back at Snape.
“Did you enjoy that, Black? Would you like another round? Would you like me to take you over and over as you did me?” Severus asks.
“Whatever you think best, Severus,” Sirius answers, humbled.
A foreign emotion crosses Snape’s face for a brief moment and then is gone in the space of a heartbeat.
Sirius is completely surprised and overwhelmed when Snape leans down and kisses him gently, “I’ve always known, Black that you were completely insane, but you are quite brilliant in all your glorious madness.”
Snape gets up, his robes swirl as he turns and heads for the door.
“Where are you going?” Sirius calls after the retreating form.
“Back to Hogwarts. I have classes tomorrow," Snape replies on his way out the door.
“But… will you come back?” Sirius asks in a pleading tone.
He doesn’t think Snape is going to answer until he hears a muffled reply from the hallway.
Sirius knows that Severus has made the decision willingly. He will come back again and all thoughts of murder completely vanish from Sirius’s head, never to return.
“Madness need not be all breakdown. It may also be break-through.”