"See anything ye like, ye fecking faggot?" the Muggle bellowed, raising his sunglasses to issue a challenging glare.
Snape turned his head and continued walking with all the dignity he could muster. He did not ordinarily permit himself to stare so long, but there was something about this man...
"Ugly fecking cunt, innee?" the Muggle commented to a small man seated beside him. The second man chuckled harshly and made a rude gesture outside Snape's line of vision. The pub outside which the men sat was not one that Severus frequented. It was known for hosting some very rough characters.
One of whom was this fascinating Muggle in the sunglasses.
Even as he walked away, Snape fixed in his mind the man's image: short black hair with a smattering of gray; strong brown eyes; a close-trimmed mustache and goatee; dark jeans and dark boots under a sleeveless black leather jacket covered in patches; a large silver cross on a chain around his neck; tattoos graffitied across the man's chest and arms, including one Snape recognized from his own misspent youth as the symbol for 'anarchy' (the motorbike parked in front of the pub bore a matching paintjob); and, finally, on each of the man's cheeks a large scar curving down to his mouth.
Lupin turned brazenly and walked backward, keeping pace with Snape. The werewolf stared curiously at the Scotsman that had intrigued his lover.
"Wanna get stomped, muppet?" the smaller man hollered, eliciting a crooked grin from the tattooed Muggle.
"Oh, yes, very butch," Lupin commented in the lisping drawl that never failed to raise Snape's hackles.
"Must you be such a queen?" Snape muttered.
Lupin grinned and turned to walk forward, biting back a reply that would likely have involved the words 'surprise', 'your cock', and 'my mouth'. "I know you don't want to hear this, but he rather puts me in mind of Sirius."
Snape pulled a face. "Must be the motorbike."
"Don't get me wrong: I'm not saying I wouldn't do him."
"Thank you, Moony. I appreciate your expert analysis."
Lupin blew the Muggles a kiss over his shoulder.
"Look, the lads said they'd have the crates ready to move-"
"Whisht!" The Scotsman held up a hand. "There's someone here."
The smaller man's eyes darted around. "Wha'?"
"Feck off, Jazz. I'll catch ye later, right?"
Jazz nodded and headed up to the lane, his eyes still scanning the alley.
"Hang out in this alley often?" the Muggle asked the darkness.
Snape dismissed his Disillusionment charm silently and materialized out of the shadows.
The Scotsman propped his sunglasses on his forehead. "Christ," he said dryly, "that was almost like...magic." His voice put an odd cast on the final word.
The wizard cocked his head dangerously.
"No worries, big boy," the man said. "I'm a Squib."
"A Scots Squib. Lovely." Snape's dark eyes went to the handgun jammed into the man's belt.
"And I know who ye are, bProfessor/b." The brown eyes indicated the wand concealed in Snape's sleeve. "Curse me dead quick, couldn't ye?"
The wizard said nothing.
The Squib removed a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and extracted one. He offered it to Snape, who shook his head once slightly. "Chibs," the man muttered around the cigarette as he lit it and held out his hand. Snape ignored it.
Chibs removed the cigarette from his mouth and picked a fleck of tobacco off his tongue. "I've got a problem, Professor." He squinted at Snape. "That conversation between me and Jazz? That was private."
Snape pursed his lips. "I can assure you that I have no interest in your affairs."
The Scotsman stepped toward Severus. Chibs was only an inch taller than the wizard but perhaps two or three stone heavier. "So ye wouldn't be wanting to tell anyone what ye heard?"
Snape met the man's gaze evenly. He was not inclined to be intimidated. As the Squib had said, he could curse him 'dead quick', wand or no wand. "I have no interest in Muggle money or guns or your 'Cause'," he clarified distastefully.
Chibs flicked the cigarette away and thrust his chin up. "So what do ye 'have an interest in', Professor?"
Snape inhaled, smelling leather, motor oil, and tobacco smoke. The smell aroused him. He could not help but trace the curve of the man's scars with his eyes.
Chibs sneered. "'Glasgow grin'." He stepped even closer.
"Impressive." Severus spoke calmly, but his heart was racing at the Scotsman's proximity.
Chibs leaned forward until his mouth was next to Snape's ear. "Do ye like to suck cock, Professor?" he breathed. He grabbed a hank of Snape's black hair and twisted it in his fist. "Or would ye rather take it up the arse?"
In truth, Severus rarely let anyone fuck him. Lupin had the opportunity only on special occasions and/or when Snape was very drunk (the two circumstances often coincided). But his prick sprang to life at the idea of this filthy Squib ravishing him in an alley.
Chibs reached into his pocket and withdrew a small packet. Severus reached hungrily for the other man's belt, but the Scotsman pushed him toward the wall. Snape obeyed quickly, turning around and unbuckling his own trousers. He heard Chibs' buckle, then the unmistakable crinkling sounds of a rubber being opened and donned. After an aching eternity Snape felt rough hands on his buttocks, and a lubricated cock prodded his entrance. His own prick was painfully hard as he willed his asshole to relax.
With a surprisingly careful thrust, the Squib pushed himself in. Severus hissed with the mingled pleasure and discomfort. But soon the burn disappeared, and Snape was arching backward against the Scotsman's assault. The chill of the night air on his privates was quite pleasurable. The furtive sounds of their ragged breathing aroused him even more. He reached down to fondle his cock and found that a droplet of pre-come had formed.
Just as Severus had grasped himself in the way he liked, Chibs shifted slightly so his thrusts were now pressing against the wizard's prostate. Snape grunted with pleasure. His legs began to shake, and he stroked himself faster. The Scotsman fucked him harder. Lupin had never taken him so roughly, and the sensation was insanely erotic. Severus thrust himself backward as Chibs assailed him, rubbing his own cock furiously.
"Oh FUCK," the Squib breathed then, shuddering. His hands dug into the skin over Snape's sharp hipbones. Severus trembled with need and pictured Chibs' ecstatic face behind him. He tumbled then, his climax spilling onto the floor of the alley.
Chibs withdrew and snapped the condom off his wilting prick. He winked at Snape, zipping himself up. "I'll keep my secret if ye keep mine, ye bastirt," he said. Severus stared, trying to envision himself informing on Chibs to the police, or the biker describing a homosexual encounter to his mates. He flung out two fingers at the Squib in a rude gesture. Chibs laughed, and, tipping his sunglasses down over his eyes, he set off toward the lane whistling.
