Another comment fic for this luscious image
Snape thought their encounters were born of childhood rivalries and misguided ideals. Sirius thought their violent trysts were the culmination of years of creating the ideal lover: one who came, rode him, and left, no strings attached.
Every time Snape's wand came out to threaten him, Sirius carefully kept his thoughts to himself, hiding behind Padfoot's simpler ideas of eat, sleep, and lick.
If only Snape hadn't been such a satisfying fuck. If only he'd kept his mouth shut that one time. If only he hadn't opened his eyes and let Sirius see how much pleasure sliding down his cock gave him, how the muscles of his thin stomach quivered as he tried to hold back the moans. If Severus Snape hadn't opened himself--not just his arse--for Sirius.
That one time, that stolen time that Sirius' thoughts turned to possibilities, to a future filled with sarcastic conversations, passionate disagreements...and the most agreeable kind of sex he'd ever imagined. Then Snape would never have taken away the memory of how they got there.
It's said the dead see everything of their pasts. Sirius howled behind the Veil as his stolen memories flashed before his eyes. He'd climbed out of the Pit of Hell, found his own fallen angel, and that angel had riven him in two.
His only consolation was that Snape never let the memories die, linger over them more and more as the war with Voldemort heated up.
When Severus died, Sirius was there, dragging the kicking, screeching man down to the ground.
"Fuck yourself on me again, Severus. I've missed you," he sighed finally as Severus slide down his cock. "This time, I'll keep my memories. We'll make more than enough for you to hoard."
Severus groaned as he took in all of Sirius' prick. "I have no wand."