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Sirius Black, London’s sexiest shut in, gracefully extracted his tongue from Severus Snape’s ass long enough to say; “Tell me again what he said.”
Having no real way to experience the wider world and all its marvels, his house at number twelve, or rather his dear departed parents house, was currently the entirety of his universe. As he spent much of his time whiling away the hours in the kitchen hoping someone would stop by, the kitchen table, all 6 by 3 foot of it, a sturdy, dependable solid ash, was now as familiar and ubiquitous to him as the walls of his cell had been. A small existence maybe and not one he had imagined for himself when he’d thrown himself bodily from the ramparts of Azkaban prison into the dark and stormy ocean below but Sirius was nothing if not resourceful and he bent Snape over it as often as he conceivably could. What a life. Snape huffed, “It’s as I said. Me, Potter,” — Sirius lapped absently at the smooth curve of his asscheek and Snape shivered, pale skin puckering attractively into goose flesh — “lessons.”
Sirius hadn’t always thought of himself as someone who would regularly and enthusiastically eat Slytherin ass but, nonetheless. When life gives you lemons. Eat ass. It was a lesser known English proverb that not many people knew about.
He’d worked through his feelings about it all several weeks back and he assumed Snape had too because at this point they had completely dispensed with the hand wringing, excuse giving portion of their encounters and just got down to business. It was saving so much time.
“The man’s a prick isn’t he?” he offered vaguely as a show of support. In reality he had no real feelings about that either way. It was like saying the great Merlin wasn’t very nice, or the general of an army. Or Voldemort. Quite possibly true but not particularly helpful.
“I keep telling you he is.”
“He must know this will be a disaster.”
“I said as much. He doesn’t listen to me.”
“That’s his problem. He doesn’t listen to anyone.”
“And you do?”
Sirius licked another wet stripe over skin. “I’m extremely team oriented.”
Snape sucked in air through his teeth. “If that’s true,” he said, “put your mouth back where it was.”
“You’re not the boss of me,” Sirius said but did it anyway. Arguing with Snape was fun; eating him out was better.
“Where’s Harry?” he thought to ask presently.
Snape panted heavily then in a confused tone; “What?”
“Harry. I thought he might come here.”
“Um- ah- I heard he’d gone to the hospital. With the Weasleys — Merlin Black, I was about to come!”
“Patience is a virtue. I hope that poor man is okay.”
“I’m sure he will be — Black!”
“Right.”
“Oh god, that’s — don’t stop okay? I mean it this time. Pain of… oh, I don’t know, something really fucking bad happening to you.” Sirius gave his right hip a squeeze to indicate he wouldn’t — and sucked at Snape’s hole before insinuating his tongue inside, first pressing the rough pad against the entrance then pushing in the tip.
“Oh shit!”
Right sentiment but completely wrong voice. Accent was off.
Snape had gone as still as a young deer. Sirius poked his head up, still hoping he’d simply tongue-fucked Snape so good as to change the timbre and elocution of his voice.
“Hey Moony.” Not much to say given the situation. How’s things? Work going well?
“Can we help you?” Trust Snape to be able to pull off supercilious whilst spread out like a picnic.
“Oh, er — I was — Arthur — I’ll just—“ he made an embarrassed sort of noise, gestured backwards towards the door with his thumb then quickly put himself on the other side of it.
“Nice of him to drop by.”
“Black? Do you think I enjoy putting on a show for Remus fucking Lupin? Do you imagine my other profession is erotic stage performer? Three shows a night, four nights a week? The work’s hard but the money’s good. Black?”
“How is this my fault?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Bit funny if you think about.”
“It absolutely is not — what are you doing? Cover yourself up and go explain to him how important it is he keeps his mouth shut.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Quick before he leaves. Do you know what it’s like to be the only one around here with any sense? Can you even comprehend what that’s like for me, Black…”
“Er, hey mate. Sorry about…” he jerked his head kitchenward.
“Er, no, I’m the one that should be — I suppose I should have guessed you might —“ he stopped and scratched his head.
“Gods I hope not. That’s the thing actually, Snape reckons it’s better if people think we still, er, hate each other’s guts. You know what he’s like, self-important git and all that. My work with the Dark Lord is incredibly delicate Black, I wouldn’t expect you to understand — actually that was quite good, wasn’t it? I swear that man thinks he’s the most important special snowflake in the whole war — anyway, sorry that’s not the point. The point is, we would both of us be very grateful if you could pretend you didn’t see anything and that as far as you’re aware we would like nothing better than to see each other die a most painful and hideous death. Er, under extreme torture or threat of death if possible. Snape’s words obviously. Of course I would rather you didn’t have to die on our accounts but he can get rather insistent. Am I making any sense? I’m afraid I tend to ramble when I’m…” he trailed off.
Remus studied him and nodded slowly. “Snape,” he said.
“Yeah,” Sirius replied with a grimace, scuffing the toe of his shoe on the ground. “You know what I’ve always been like about him.”
“Yeah, I knew.”
Sirius tried a tentative smile. “Thanks for understanding.”
Later that evening Harry came by with Arthur and the gang and he and Snape put on rather a good show if he did say so himself.
The second time Remus walked in on them Sirius had Snape spread out over the table again and was in balls deep. The third time Snape was on his knees and Sirius’s bare ass on the cold chrome of the kitchen countertop, a hand splayed carelessly in a goop of spilled porridge. “We could of course consider doing this in the bedroom,” Sirius offered. He was nothing if not practical.
“No,” Snape countered. “A bedroom is for lovers. The kitchen is more appropriate, it’s more… liminal.”
“You think too much,” Sirius told him.
The forth time was Sirius on his back on the kitchen rug, a fire roaring in a way that was actually quite fucking romantic thank you very much and Snape on top getting his prostate seen to. Snape stopped Sirius with fingers splayed on his chest and said, “Black, is there any chance your stupid friend Lupin likes to watch?”
Lupin in the sitting room had his hands resting stiffly on the arms of his occasional chair — he eyeballed them wearily, and an awkward silence ensued.
Sirius thought he was best to fill it sharpish before Snape did first and ruined it all. Sirius happened to find Snape’s sharp, sarcastic tongue a turn on but he was a traumatised freak and Remus being neither was unlikely to feel the same.
The lapels of Snape’s shirt were untucked and he’d done the buttons up wrong, while Sirius himself had only managed two and but at least he’d finally made his cock shrink enough to fit into his trousers, a feat of sheer will and personal mastery. Though every time he looked at Snape’s wonky buttons it threatened to rear up again. Because carelessly dressed, geeky schoolmasters were the height of sexiness. It wasn’t because he was a terminal lockup. No that experience was both normal and universal.
“Moony,” he started. He sat himself down on the settee and gestured for Snape to join him. Long, lean legs spilled over Sirius’s thighs and Sirius worked over his buttons to expose his wiry chest. “Severus seems to think you have a thing for watching us” —
“— it’s obvious he does —“
“Shh, muffin. As I was saying Severus thinks you like to watch. …But I think I know better.”
“Oh?”
“Mm. I think you want to join us.”
Remus’s attention appeared to be almost wholly swallowed by the appearance of Snape’s left nipple so Sirius thought he didn’t actually need an answer. He ran the rough pad of his forefinger around his brown areola while Severus arched theatrically like a good little whore. “Lovely, isn’t he?” he prompted. “Severus, get up sweetheart.”
Snape did as he was asked which he only did upon the insinuation that he was about to be fucked dumb. His shirt slipped off his pale shoulders and puddled on the floor.
Remus looked him over with equal parts trepidation and interest; Severus looked how he always looked - bored, contemptuous, cruel.
Sirius divested Snape of his trousers for him with his wand then twirled his finger to indicate that Snape should turn, which he did.
Snape wore shirts and trousers awkwardly but he looked great naked. He was a man built for the stiff arc of leather across his arse, for handcuffed wrists or for soft silk slips that showed off his calves and his shoulders not for dull, shapeless suits and robes that hid the secret wonder of him.
He thought Remus was a man to understand that.
“Hm?” Sirius prompted.
Remus paused as though deciding something then, presently, lifted his chin up just once to indicate in the affirmative.
“He’s sexy,” Snape remarked.
“Told you.” In school girls wanted Sirius but they loved Moony. Moony was deep. With Moony you just knew he would fuck you hard then write poetry about it after.
Sirius considered being jealous for about a second then he remembered that while Snape was a complicated man, he had cheap tastes. Snape liked a man with a big cock and hard pecs. In short: Snape liked a basic bitch.
Snape’s long legs folded themselves either side of Remus’s lap while Sirius palmed himself through his trousers. Remus in his shabby brown suit looking terrified he was doing something inappropriate to the skinny little oddball that had just inexplicably climbed on top of him scratched a very particular itch Sirius was only just now realising he had.
“You can touch him, Rem. Severus, honey you’re gonna need to tell him.”
Severus looked bored. “You have my permission to touch me inappropriately. Pretty sure you want to. You’re looking at me like you want to. You should probably just do it.”
“Severus.”
“Alright. Fine. I want this. This is consensual. You’re doing this with my consent. Good?”
“Yes baby. Thank you.”
Remus’s hand came up to Snape’s hair and stroked softly, then quite suddenly he yanked Snape’s head backwards, exposing his throat. Remembering all the things the men had done to one another over the years, Sirius wondered if this was going to end up somewhere else altogether. He and Snape had history too but Sirius was stuck here in this house and Snape was fucked up from the war and possibly a bunch of other things that Sirius didn’t like to ask about so for them it hadn’t seemed insurmountable. But then Remy leaned forward and his mouth clamped over Snape’s, hand still knotted tightly in his hair, and he kissed him hungrily. Oh. Predatorily.
Well okay.
Perhaps any blame or apology was contained in that kiss. Or perhaps it was just a kiss and the unforgivable things they had all done was something seperate.
Unbuttoning his fly, Sirius pushed a hand inside his pants and watched them.
“What does he like?” Remus asked, inspecting Snape like he was a prized Hippogryph at auction.
“You can fuck him if you like. He’ll ride you if you ask him to. He could suck the core from a mahogany wand if you’re into that.”
Remus took his chin between his fingers. “He has a pretty mouth.”
“Shame about what comes out of it.”
The beginnings of a smirk curled Snape’s lips. “I can play nice.”
“You better hope you can,” Sirius warned. “If you take Moony’s cock well for me, you can get mine after.”
“Fuck,” Snape breathed.
Sirius licked his teeth and grinned at Remus. “I think he likes you.”
“But what of Paddy, I wonder? What does he think?”
“He can share,” Sirius answered quickly. “He’s good at sharing.”
“Hm,” Remus said, unconvinced.
Above him Snape huffed. “Do either of you imagine I have all the time in the world for your agonising? Young minds to inspire, wars to win etcetera. Not that I’d expect the—mph“
Remus stoppered him firmly with a clamped hand over his mouth and Sirius wondered why he hadn’t thought of that himself. “Despite the mouth on him I am—interested. Just not at the expense of other things. Our friendship for one — ouch.” He snatched his hand away, rubbed his palm on his side and frowned.
“Don’t be daft. He’s dying to watch you fuck me. And we could all be dead tomorrow. Would you rather die tedious and miserable or well-fucked and happy?”
As usual Snape made a perverse sort of sense at which neither of them could argue and then he smiled in that black, evil way of his that was usually a sign that he’d thought he’d won.
“Is he always like this?”
“You both know how to shut me up,” Snape countered matter of factly, examining his fingernails.
Apparently there was a right way to wear Remus’s desperately sad and ugly brown trousers and that was pooled at the man’s feet. It was a much better look on him. And watching his lover get happily impaled by another man was another thing he hadn’t previously thought he’d enjoy but clearly that had just been a failure of imagination. Remus, scruffy, bedraggled and desperate, homeless-chic-handsome and Snape on top of him, weird and otherworldly, impossibly lean and as hairless as an adolescent boy, well, it was probably an acquired taste but Sirius was hard as a rock.
“How is he Moony?” he asked.
“Spectacular,” was the reply.
Others may have called Snape ugly, and yes he was technically an unattractive, oily gremlin of a thing, but he had that arch of smooth white neck, those long, fine fingers and when he bent over a man could get a pretty good eyeful of the soft curve of what must be said was a pretty fucking spectacular arse. Sirius had watched him for months, fresh out of Azkaban and out of his mind with animal lust before Snape had finally deigned let him into his pants. And even then it had been under the clothes action only for weeks.
“Oh yes,” Sirius agreed. “He is at that.”
Snape arched his back like a cat; “Does the wolf imagine I will break? No need to treat me like glass, Lupin dear, don’t hold back on my account. I have no delicate sensibilities that need saving.”
Lupin growled and drove up with his hips, forcing Snape down onto him roughly with his hands. “I promise you Severus, you do not want me at my worst. You of all people should know that.”
Moony had always been at war with himself; Sirius had always secretly thought it was dull. If Sirius were a werewolf he wouldn’t care one jot, if Sirius were a werewolf he’d go rampaging though ‘Eaters at moon-time and sleep untroubled as a baby afterwards. Maybe Lupin just needed a little prompting to let the beast out. As annoying as he was, Snape was probably the one to nudge him over the edge.
“Be careful how far you push me, Severus,” he continued. “I am not like other men. Do not mistake me for one.”
Snape laughed disparagingly. “Oh please. Do your worst, you pathetic little man. I dare you.”
In response Remus bit down on Snape’s bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Snape cried out. “Ow!! Jesus Christ!”
“What’s he saying?”
“He swears in muggle,” Sirius told him. “You’ll get used to it. Severus, stop teasing the poor man; make him come and daddy will let you have dessert.”
Snape sneered with blood smeared on his lip and said, “He knows what he has to do.”
And so, probably spurred on by sheer indignation, Remus fucked Snape with the sort of raw animal abandon that left Sirius wondering if he ever let himself lose control like that in bed. Knowing Remus, the answer was no; he was never one to miss out on a spot of self-denial when it was on offer. All the while Snape moaned like a perfect whore for him and purred words like more and harder and yes into his ears which sounded even more devastating in his dark and silky drawl.
“Gods!” Remus cried when he came, canting his hips and depositing himself deep inside Snape’s ass. “Merlin’s tits, Paddy, you should charge for him.”
“Trouble is, he’d like that too much,” Sirius replied airily. “Does he want seconds?”
Snape licked blood from his lips and looked like he was experiencing nirvana. “Oh, yes.”
“Gods, look at him. He’s polite.” Remus swept a careful thumb over Snape’s bottom lip then slipped it inside his mouth. Snape sucked and Remus looked on like one might observe an animal in a zoo. “Never seen him polite before.”
“Nothing wrong with him a stiff cock couldn’t fix,” Sirius agreed cheerily, his dick leaking at the sight of Snape hungrily sucking on his oldest friend’s fingers.
“Bring him here then, my turn.”
He hadn’t expected Remus to pick Snape up and deposit him on his lap and he hadn’t expect to like it but both of those things happened leaving him with a lap full of horny, writhing potions professor.
“I’m quite pleasantly knackered.” Remus commented, then made himself comfortable at the end of their sofa, apparently perfectly at ease now that he’d got off, arms behind his head and long legs prostrate, feet digging into Sirius’s side.
Meanwhile Snape, his back to Sirius’s chest, was attempting to impale himself smartly on Sirius’s cock.
“Look, you greedy little cock monster, I don’t care how fabulous a lay you are, if you break my dick that’ll be it for you.”
“You could try though I am the better duelist. In fact — mpf.”
Sirius took a leaf from the Remus Lupin playbook and shut the man up with his hand, which he then proceeded to suck on greedily.
“Merlin, let me — just — oh.”
Sirius’s eyes almost rolled into the back of head as Snape slid down the length of him, still open and slick from another man’s come like the filthiest of cheap tavern whores.
Gods, he really was the best ass Sirius had ever had. Unfortunately he’d apparently elected to say that out loud.
“Obviously,” Snape replied. “You’re practically in love with me. It’s pathetic.”
“And what about you? Gagging for my cock at all hours of the day.”
“Take the pronoun out of that sentence and you’ll have it closer. You have almost nothing to do with it.”
Sirius made a noise which he hoped conveyed the depth of his scorn and disbelief.
“Do you two usually bicker all the way through?”
“So?”
“Well it’s a wonder you ever make it to orgasm.”
“Oh,” Sirius assured Remus, “we do.”
“Almost always,” Snape added.
And just to prove they could, he and Snape left off bickering for a moment and just fucked. They were good like this, Sirius was sure of it; Snape’s thighs working prettily as he rode him, Sirius’s cock sliding slick and easy. They were perfect counterpoint. Where Snape was pale, Sirius was dark, where Snape was slim, he was large. Sirius entertained a vague notion that people would pay decent money to watch them like that. Remy was getting a free ticket to the best show in town. They’d stopped talking but Snape sure fucking sobbed when Sirius’s cock hit his prostate. Yet after awhile knowing he had a captive audience, Sirius couldn’t help but take advantage. The only things he typically had to talk to were Kreacher and the walls. “Just think, Moony, we could have been sharing him this whole time.”
Snape, predictably, made a sort of desperate keening noise and his cock leaked into Sirius’s hand.
“Oh, you like that don’t you, freak.” But he said it fondly because he liked him like that. “Gods, you do. Should bring a whole quidditch team in here next time to take turns with you.”
Snape’s breathing stuttered tellingly as he jerked on Sirius’s lap.
“You disgusting little slut. Severus, is that what you spank it to? Getting gang banged by the Chudley fucking Cannons? It is isn’t it? You little freak. Moony. He’s such a freak, isn’t he?”
“I’ll be honest with you both. I actually think I could come again.”
“You can help out. I’m not averse to that. He certainly isn’t.”
And so, depositing a decoratively fringed couch cushion on the ground, Remus got to his knees and smartly captured Snape’s cock with his mouth.
“I’m having the best time,” Snape gushed.
“I was hoping you would,” Sirius replied because, as much as he’d tried to prevent it, like a virus he’d contracted feelings for the vile little goblin and it was nice to see him enjoying himself.
And gods, he was made for this. Did anyone else suspect? When he stood ugly and sneering at the front of the class or buttoned up from his ankles to his chin, serious and impenetrable at order meetings did they know he was made to be spread bare and used and worshipped and fucked raw in every hole?
“How long have you wanted this, Snivelly?” he asked. “You dirty boy. How long have you wanted to be passed around like a bread basket at dinner?”
Snape was trembling all over and his breath stuttered when he gasped, “Say more things like that.”
Sirius would. Gladly. “Look at you. All loose and wet for me. Another man’s come leaking out of you. You’ll get my load next, you disgusting little whore. I’ll send you home all nice and filled up and dripping with come, would you like that?”
Snape’s face turned scarlet and he mewled. And he was past the point of no return now, past the point of madness really, body flushed and arched tautly across Sirius’s lap, muscles in those perfectly shaped thighs trembling with desire. There was no denying Sirius didn’t crave this, didn’t crave him in particular. That Snape, vulnerable and needy and mad for him didn’t fulfil his most base and gasping desires. Sex fantasy number one.
“You’re a perfect slut,” Sirius growled. “Built to take cock. Meant to be used.” He pressed his lips to the sworl of his ear and added, “And you look fucking gorgeous like this.”
Remus’s mouth pulled away and Snape arched up after it like his hips were being pulled by strings. A wretched, needy sound fell from his lips. His cock was red and wet and swollen and he shivered every time Remus dipped down to lap teasingly at the fluid that oozed from the tip.
“You’re ours,” Sirius whispered darkly into his ear.
“We own you,” Remus assured him, then he took that gorgeous cock into mouth again with a hand circled around the base. With luxurious slowness he sunk down until his lips touched his fingers.
Sirius continued. “We’ll use you whenever we want, however we please. We’ll look after you. We’ll make you feel so good—but we own you now, Severus, you’re our own little toy.”
And just like that, Snape came shaking down Remus’s throat.
“Merlin,” Sirius said.
Then with fumbling hands, eager and trembling, Snape worked over Remus’s trouser placard and soon he was stuffed full from both ends.
How could something be so unbearably dirty, so unbearably hot but also so intimate, so incredibly tender? Sirius had felt nothing like it. He could feel the trembling in Snape’s core and through his limbs as he pressed against Sirius’s chest, his mouth open and drooling around Remus’s cock. Remus looked down at Severus with such raw affection that Sirius felt a great surge of protectiveness bloom in his chest for both of them. He reached out blindly and Remus’s hand, warm and calloused and steadying, tangled in his own.
And after that was there any harm in imagining them together in Sirius’s bed? The three of them tangled and writhing, limbs crossed and interchangeable, mouths and sweat and semen and the dense musky scent of sex? Did it matter if he imagined them together after the war? Who did it hurt if he thought of them living together in a neat little cottage with a red door and a path down to the gate? Three men, not strange and damaged and solitary but together and whole in pleasure and in comfort. Who would it hurt but himself?
Who would care if Sirius thought of this as he came, his lips trailing kisses along Snape’s delicate shoulders and his hand squeezing Remus’s hand so tight?
After he watched as Severus’s throat worked to swallow down Remus’s come, as Remus’s finger tenderly wiped away spillage from the corner of Snape’s mouth. Chest heaving, Sirius rested his head against Snape’s back while Severus lay softly nestled in the dense hair of Remus’s abdomen.
“Don’t wash tonight,” Sirius told him. “I’ll probably get off thinking of you full and leaking later.”
Snape huffed quietly in the affirmative.
“Such a good boy,” Remus purred and with his free hand, the one that Sirius didn’t hold, he stroked gently across Snape’s brow and down his cheek and maybe it wasn’t sex that they wanted after all, maybe it was this.
They dressed and with every layer, every button, Severus the docile whore disappeared and Professor Snape, hard, impenetrable and glowering returned. Sirius thought he might love him for that, for that mask he wore like a shield, for the way he’d made it so much a part of himself that it took up almost the whole of him. Like he loved Remus for how he could be ripped apart and put back together and still find room to be gentle. Sirius was sure no expert on human nature but he thought maybe a hardness like that, a gentleness like that, might just be strength. Though after twelve years in the bin no-one could say he was all the way sane and he could just as well be talking bullocks.
All prim and proper, boots tied and robe on Snape gave them one of his stony stares. “Tomorrow night? I have that fucking Potter at six but after that I could fit you in.”
Sirius didn’t know who he was fooling with a voice like that. A voice like smoke and treacle. A voice like sex. Only stupid sluts had a voice like that.
“Maybe tomorrow you’re a street whore and I’m a trick,” Sirius said. “I take you back to my place and for a tenner me and my friend here take turns.”
Remus grinned. “You just think of that?”
“Good right? I’m probably some kind of sexual genius.”
Snape looked down at them impassively through his impressively large nose. He bared his teeth, a glint of white like the flash of a steel blade. An upward slanted eyebrow.
“Make it fifteen and I let you tie me up.”