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.
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.