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Title: Desperate Measures
Author: Evandar
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Severus/Sirius
Genre: PWP
Warning: Trope-appropriate dub-con
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am making no profit from this story.
Summary: They have to fuck, or they have to die. Severus is quite sure that the latter would be preferable.
AN: Written for my Trope Bingo table for the prompt 'Fuck or Die'. I really, really don't like this pairing, but whatever. It worked for the prompt.
“I’d rather die.”
Black snorted. “Fuck you, Snape,” he said, though it came out more as a breathy pant than a reprimand. “Some of us have things to live for.”
A thousand retorts built up on his tongue, but he said none of them. Black was already unfastening his robes. His hands were shaking violently, but he was taking as much care as he could not to just give in and rip the buttons off. Surprising. Somewhere, Black had learned self-control.
He could feel Black’s body heat. Feel the way his breath fluttered against his cheek. It wasn’t that Black was unattractive; even after Azkaban, now that he’d regained some weight, he was a handsome man. It was more that he was a complete and absolute prick, and if Severus had to die for not fucking him, then he was doing the world a service by making sure Black died with him.
Only…only… His cock was harder than it had ever been, tenting his robes in a display that he had no way of hiding. It had been forever since he’d been touched, far too long for him to be able to simply ignore his arousal, and here was Black – just as hard and exactly as willing as anyone could be under the circumstances.
“Fine,” he grumbled. “I hate you.”
“Feeling’s mutual, I assure you,” Black replied drily, still working his way down Serverus’ buttons. “Believe me, if it was anyone else, the curse would already be broken. As it is…” His sneer spoke volumes, but it didn’t stop him from shoving Severus’ robes open and wrapping his hand around his erection.
It felt incredible. Severus couldn’t quite stop himself from moaning, and he tilted his head back, closing his eyes to try and pretend that it was someone, anyone else. He couldn’t, though. Black’s fingers were long and thin and his strokes were demanding, and he was growling softly under his breath, sounding too like his Animagus form for comfort.
When Black drew away, Severus was forced to look at him again. He was undressing, removing the layers of his own robes far more swiftly than he’d removed Severus’. Beneath them, he was as pale as Severus; tattoos and scars covered most of his body, stretching and shifting as he moved, and Severus picked out powerful runic designs in their number. Runes for protection, for power – all of them darker than Black liked to believe he was.
The thought to pay attention; that this was Black’s secret to surviving Azkaban, flitted across his mind, only to vanish when Blck returned to him and wrapped his fingers around his cock once more. “You know,” he said, “this would go a lot faster, Snape, if you got off your high horse and touched me.”
The idea was repulsive…and oddly attractive in that it would break the curse. Severus shuddered and took a deep breath, before sliding his hand down Black’s belly to curl around his prick. Black grinned through his first hint of pleasure, wide and insane.
“Thank you,” he said, “for your cooperation.”
Severus sneered at him, tightening his grip and pulling a little harder than necessary. He meant to hurt; Black actually seemed to like it. “Stop talking,” he growled. “It’s bad enough having to do this without listening to your inanities.”
He ended on a gasp. Black had chosen that moment to press his thumb into Severus’ slit, making him buck up into Black’s hand. He was actually good at this – Severus supposed, grudgingly, that everyone had to have at least one talent – and every touch, every flutter of breath on his skin, whether Black was talking or not, was making his arousal soar.
“Want to fuck me, Snape?” Black asked, his voice little more than a whisper.
“Will it shut you up?” Severus replied, and Black laughed at him, breathless.
“Maybe,” he said with a leer. “Maybe not. For you, I’ll try my hardest.”
Severus shoved him back. Every sinew of his body now protested the lack of contact, but he continued, shoving Black back towards the wall. Black rolled his eyes and went willingly, turning his back on Severus and bracing himself, arse turned up.
The lubrication charm and the preparation were both little more than an act of courtesy. It was a good thing, Severus thought, that Black liked it rough, because he was in no mood to be gentle. Black was tight and hot and – thanks to the spell – slick with an oil that smelled bizarrely of melon. He was also, mercifully, quiet at last, barring the gasps and moans of pleasure he gave with each strike to his prostate and stroke to his cock.
The curse broke when Black came, clenching tight around his cock and scrabbling at the wall. Severus felt it snapping like a rubber band in the back of his mind, and he pressed deeper into Black’s twitching arse and filled him.
One breath. Two. And then Black’s elbow dug hard into his ribs as he straightened, winding him and shoving him back at the same time. His cock slipped free, and with it, a thin stream of white slid down Black’s inner thigh.
He saw the look on Black’s face, the dark glint in his eye and the wrinkle in his nose, and wisely said nothing. He had, after all, just willingly given bodily fluids to a man who’d studied more Dark magic than most.
“We never speak of this,” Black said, after they were charmed clean and dressed once more.
“Deal.”
Author: Evandar
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Severus/Sirius
Genre: PWP
Warning: Trope-appropriate dub-con
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am making no profit from this story.
Summary: They have to fuck, or they have to die. Severus is quite sure that the latter would be preferable.
AN: Written for my Trope Bingo table for the prompt 'Fuck or Die'. I really, really don't like this pairing, but whatever. It worked for the prompt.
“I’d rather die.”
Black snorted. “Fuck you, Snape,” he said, though it came out more as a breathy pant than a reprimand. “Some of us have things to live for.”
A thousand retorts built up on his tongue, but he said none of them. Black was already unfastening his robes. His hands were shaking violently, but he was taking as much care as he could not to just give in and rip the buttons off. Surprising. Somewhere, Black had learned self-control.
He could feel Black’s body heat. Feel the way his breath fluttered against his cheek. It wasn’t that Black was unattractive; even after Azkaban, now that he’d regained some weight, he was a handsome man. It was more that he was a complete and absolute prick, and if Severus had to die for not fucking him, then he was doing the world a service by making sure Black died with him.
Only…only… His cock was harder than it had ever been, tenting his robes in a display that he had no way of hiding. It had been forever since he’d been touched, far too long for him to be able to simply ignore his arousal, and here was Black – just as hard and exactly as willing as anyone could be under the circumstances.
“Fine,” he grumbled. “I hate you.”
“Feeling’s mutual, I assure you,” Black replied drily, still working his way down Serverus’ buttons. “Believe me, if it was anyone else, the curse would already be broken. As it is…” His sneer spoke volumes, but it didn’t stop him from shoving Severus’ robes open and wrapping his hand around his erection.
It felt incredible. Severus couldn’t quite stop himself from moaning, and he tilted his head back, closing his eyes to try and pretend that it was someone, anyone else. He couldn’t, though. Black’s fingers were long and thin and his strokes were demanding, and he was growling softly under his breath, sounding too like his Animagus form for comfort.
When Black drew away, Severus was forced to look at him again. He was undressing, removing the layers of his own robes far more swiftly than he’d removed Severus’. Beneath them, he was as pale as Severus; tattoos and scars covered most of his body, stretching and shifting as he moved, and Severus picked out powerful runic designs in their number. Runes for protection, for power – all of them darker than Black liked to believe he was.
The thought to pay attention; that this was Black’s secret to surviving Azkaban, flitted across his mind, only to vanish when Blck returned to him and wrapped his fingers around his cock once more. “You know,” he said, “this would go a lot faster, Snape, if you got off your high horse and touched me.”
The idea was repulsive…and oddly attractive in that it would break the curse. Severus shuddered and took a deep breath, before sliding his hand down Black’s belly to curl around his prick. Black grinned through his first hint of pleasure, wide and insane.
“Thank you,” he said, “for your cooperation.”
Severus sneered at him, tightening his grip and pulling a little harder than necessary. He meant to hurt; Black actually seemed to like it. “Stop talking,” he growled. “It’s bad enough having to do this without listening to your inanities.”
He ended on a gasp. Black had chosen that moment to press his thumb into Severus’ slit, making him buck up into Black’s hand. He was actually good at this – Severus supposed, grudgingly, that everyone had to have at least one talent – and every touch, every flutter of breath on his skin, whether Black was talking or not, was making his arousal soar.
“Want to fuck me, Snape?” Black asked, his voice little more than a whisper.
“Will it shut you up?” Severus replied, and Black laughed at him, breathless.
“Maybe,” he said with a leer. “Maybe not. For you, I’ll try my hardest.”
Severus shoved him back. Every sinew of his body now protested the lack of contact, but he continued, shoving Black back towards the wall. Black rolled his eyes and went willingly, turning his back on Severus and bracing himself, arse turned up.
The lubrication charm and the preparation were both little more than an act of courtesy. It was a good thing, Severus thought, that Black liked it rough, because he was in no mood to be gentle. Black was tight and hot and – thanks to the spell – slick with an oil that smelled bizarrely of melon. He was also, mercifully, quiet at last, barring the gasps and moans of pleasure he gave with each strike to his prostate and stroke to his cock.
The curse broke when Black came, clenching tight around his cock and scrabbling at the wall. Severus felt it snapping like a rubber band in the back of his mind, and he pressed deeper into Black’s twitching arse and filled him.
One breath. Two. And then Black’s elbow dug hard into his ribs as he straightened, winding him and shoving him back at the same time. His cock slipped free, and with it, a thin stream of white slid down Black’s inner thigh.
He saw the look on Black’s face, the dark glint in his eye and the wrinkle in his nose, and wisely said nothing. He had, after all, just willingly given bodily fluids to a man who’d studied more Dark magic than most.
“We never speak of this,” Black said, after they were charmed clean and dressed once more.
“Deal.”
