Summary: Two enemies find themselves colliding in an altogether different way than they had ever expected. Their tumultuous, violent relationship continues to have flagrant disregard for the rules, themselves, and consequently their well-beings while finding yet more new ways to destroy themselves. A thoroughly unhealthy affair with nowhere to go but down, two shadowed young boys who are thrust into men's shoes have no choice but to turn to the other. So near the end, what would it matter?
Warnings: Mature language, mild adult themes. This is a slash fic, kiddies, so if you don't like the boylove, please find the exit.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This is a plot bunny that got entirely out of control, and I do not make any money from it.
Author's Notes: Con-crit is welcome! (: My associate, Maude, wrote most of this chapter, and it is from Sirius's POV. -Maude
The Marvelous Misadventures of Sparky and tattat!Q
2. Uncomplicated and Complicated Matters, Respectively.
Sirius Black was a simple fellow. His two pleasures in life were playing tricks with his cohorts, the Marauders, and pissing off his family to the best of his ability. That was his creed, his life's motto, and he was happy.
Sirius grinned, running swiftly down the corridor with his friends. "For Prongs," he whispered to Moony. Lupin grinned at him, a tad weary of inflicting yet more pain upon their next victim, Snivvy, but undeniably excited for the adventure. Snape and the Marauders had quite an interesting history, after all. Ever since the students' first day at Hogwarts, fresh off the Hogwarts Express, they had developed a strong, immediate disliking toward the boy. Potter was the first, cursing him for some skirmish on the train, but his hatred grew when he realized that Snape was friendly with the skirt James was chasing. And, of course, being the close band of friends that they were, the rest of the Marauders followed suit in that hatred. Today, Lily Evans had been particularly unkind to James Potter, most likely by the influence of Severus Snape, and thus the Marauders sought revenge.
Eventually, they saw Snivellus. He turned sharply as he heard approaching footsteps, a flurry of billowing robes and tangles of raven hair. Sirius chuckled as the Slytherin's expression rapidly changed from apathy, to fear, to revulsion, to something indescribable, to hatred. He sauntered close to the dark boy, getting in his space before fisting a hand in his tatty robes and pulling him closer. "Hey, Snivvy," Sirius breathed, staring into Snape's bottomless black eyes. His victim sucked in a sharp breath before twisting his mouth into an ugly sneer.
"What do you want this time, imbeciles?" he hissed, teeth and fists clenching as he attempted to stand tall. Sirius, with his keen eyes, saw him quiver just the slightest, and snapped his jaws, laughing. He let go of Snape's robes, circling him as a lion would a gazelle. He, along with James, were the worst to Severus.
"I just want to talk," Potter sang-song in a child's voice, laughing. The fine hairs on Sirius' neck stood on end, his entire body electrified with the excitement of the chase - a hunter and his prey. He despised the greasy git with a burning passion, and it was just one more thing that would upset his family; making enemies with a Slytherin was treason. That made it even better, made the product of their trickery even sweeter. He barked a harsh laugh directly into Snape's face, baring his teeth menacingly. He adored the power, savored towering over Snape as if he were a mere child and he, Sirius, his master. Generally speaking, he wasn't one for power trips, but something about Snape, the effeminate, frail body, perhaps, gave Sirius a rush stronger than any revenge he could ever hope to extract upon his family or any trick he could play on unsuspecting first years. Sirius, being the fairly uncomplicated thing he was, was perhaps not as alarmed as he should have been at this revelation. He took it in stride, this thing that was possessing him, this overwhelming fascination with Snape. It had been building for years now and it came as little surprise now, he supposed, that all his aggression toward the slimy Slytherin was now expressing itself rather physically.
"Yeah, Snivvy," Sirius crooned, tauntingly fingering the Slytherin's slender neckline, his jaw, ghosting about him, murmuring things in his ear. Wide, obsidian eyes clenched shut in fear as Sirius was as brass as to grip little Snivellus by his hips, harshly digging his fingers into the tender flesh and sharp bone. Sirius was often overcome with the desire to mark Snape, to make him his, to take him. Sirius growled low in his throat and teasingly bit Snape's shoulder before moving away to join the others. Inside him, Padfoot keened at the loss of touch. He hushed it, pulling his wand and positioning himself around Prongs.
James shouted a mostly harmless jinx at Snape. The boy didn't put up a fight – just scowled and took what was given to him, most likely praying that if he ignored them, they would leave. Oh, how wrong you are, little Snivelly, Sirius thought. Snape knew he could not outrun them, knew he could not hide from them. What choice was he given, but to take his punishment? Sirius' blood sizzled, adrenaline seizing him in a glorious embrace. As the Marauders laughed and paraded around him as he lay pathetically on the ground, Sirius looked down at him. Sirius was unable to look away from the lithe form before him, laid out like a decadent feast. Lust and arousal brimmed inside of him nearly to the point of spilling over. As he saw the warring helplessness and rebellion in those eyes, eyes blacker than his robes or the Forbidden Forest or even Sirius' last name, Sirius' cock twitched. Ignoring it for now, he poked his wand at Snape's nose, whispering, "Run."