The comfort of sleep having once more proven itself to be elusive to Sirius, the frustrated animagi trudged his way into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place- in pursuit of a large glass of Firewhiskey and, perhaps, a midnight snack. Rubbing blearily at his still light-sensitive eyes, he couldn't help but wonder, also, if there might just be any Dreamless Sleep potion left with which he might spike the nightcap. Remus's strong cautions aside, it had been a full three days since Sirius had experienced anything more than a few hours of fitful sleep. And, quite frankly, after that night's horrendous Order Meeting, he needed the total release the ill-advised cocktail would deliver.
Sirius was only a few steps away from the kitchen, and his much-desired nightcap, when the presence of light peeking out from beneath the door halted his strides. There was, Sirius frowned, absolutely no reason for the kitchen to be illuminated. Not only had he just been in bed, Sirius's eyes were, of yet, still readjusting themselves to light. A consequence which, though thankfully reversible, kept Sirius from utilizing the many fireplaces and chandeliers of Grimmauld Place. And Kreacher, Merlin blast him, would no sooner leave his self-imposed exiled within the confines of the attic than Sirius would willingly go back to Azkaban.
Remus, he thought with an irritated scowl. The overly-concerned werewolf had come, Sirius was certain, to confiscate his already diminishing supply of Dreamless Sleep potion. Perhaps, even worse, his firewhiskey as well. Resolving not to allow such an injustice to occur, Sirius leaped into the kitchen with a dramatic growl, prepared to protect what little supply of alcohol and medicine he had left.
To his immense shock, it was not Remus, having come to plunder in the name of friendly protection. It was Snape, her pleasantly plump posterior sticking out from beneath the gigantic table positioned in the center of the room. It was, Sirius scowled, an arse he would recognize anywhere.
"What are you doing here?!" Sirius barked, wand at the ready.
Having already bumped her head quite sharply against the table at his initial growl, Snape was slow to rise from her knees, her reluctance no doubt stemming from the fact that she had dropped her wand at his shouting. Having been uncharacteristically too slow to retrieve the polished stick, it had rolled impossibly quickly to the other side of the room.
"Nothing!" Snape snapped, quickly positioning herself behind a chair.
"Nothing?!" Sirius snorted, looking derisively at the dust on her fingers.
"That's right." The Potion Mistress declared, gaining more confidence as she wrapped her fingers around a heavy, silver candelabra. "Nothing."
"You were trying to steal something!" Sirius accused, eyeing the candelabra warily.
"I was doing no such thing." The Slytherin hissed, taking several steps backward.
"You lie!" He snarled.
Before Snape could utter another denial, Sirius advanced upon her, quickly and easily yanking away the candelabra in her hands. Tossing the mass of silver several feet away, he then seized the scrawny woman's wrists, unwilling to allow the surly Slytherin any opportunity to attack him.
"You brute!" Snape snarled, frantically trying to free herself. "Unhand me!"
"Not until you tell me what you were doing in my house!" Sirius resolved, the vehemence in his voice as strong as his grip.
"I was looking for something, you beast!"
"So you were trying to steal from me!" Sirius surmised, releasing the struggling woman in his enthusiasm.
Unbalanced, and perhaps unnerved to have had her plans go so awry, the Death Eater stumbled and fell ungracefully into a kitchen chair. Grimacing as the hard wood made contact with her fatless body, Snape quickly snaked an arm backward towards the table in desperate pursuit of another makeshift weapon.
"What was it!?" Sirius interrogated, clapping his hands down sharply on both sides of the chair. "What were you trying to steal!?"
"My hairclip!" Snape cried, a defiant expression on her face though she trembled considerably. "My silver hairclip."
Alarmed at the suggestion of what was possibly fear creeping into her dark eyes, Sirius immediately stood upright and took a few steps backwards. For as much as he loathed the woman, utterly and completely, Sirius no real desire to inspire that much fear in any woman.
"Hairclip?" Sirius repeated, wondering if perhaps he might have misheard her.
"Yes." Snape confirmed, still eyeing him warily. "My hairclip."
With an annoyed sigh, Sirius shook his head and marched over to the silverware drawer, yanking it open with more than force necessary. Plucking two of his fingers into the dusty confines, Sirius gingerly removed an impossibly sharp hairpin.
"Is this what you're looking for?" He growled, brandishing the hairpiece in her face.
Encrusted with what could only be several authentic emeralds, configured to take on the shape of a ruby-eyed serpent, the seemingly harmless object had pierced through Sirius's big toe during his post Order Meeting cleanup.
"Yes!" With that enthusiastic validation, the former Hogwart's Professor leapt to her feet and grabbed for the jewelry.
Before Snape could retrieve her much-desired hairclip, Sirius raised his arm, effectively putting the trinket several inches out of her reach. Both irritated and alarmed at the sudden change of events, the pale-skinned potion enthusiast quickly rose up on the tips of her toes, stretching her arm as far as she could in the vain attempt to recapture the hairpin.
"Take it easy." Sirius frowned, backing away from the distraught Slytherin.
"If you would just return my property to me, I would." Snape retorted, her voice a mixture of anxiety and irritation.
"I never thought you'd be the type of woman to get worked up over a bit of jewelry." Sirius teased, waggling the hair accessory playfully.
At Sirius's lighthearted ribbing, Snape's face contorted into a murderous expression, her obsidian eyes darkening so considerably the pupils were nearly indiscernible. It was all too late, that he realized his mistake.
"That hairclip belonged to my mother." The Slytherin educated with a hiss, her eyes never once leaving the object in question.
Feeling like a prat at the confession, Sirius quickly lowered his arm, prepared to surrender the object back to its rightful owner. Snape, however, proved too quick for his Azkaban-damped reflexes. As swiftly as a falcon descending on its prey, her potion-stained fingers removed the trinket from his grip in the matter of seconds.
"I didn't know…" Sirius apologized, the words sounding weak to his own ears.
"What a surprise." Snape sniffed, hastily depositing the expensive bit of jewelry into her moleskin handbag.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Sirius demanded, helplessly giving into the Slytherin's antagonization.
"What it means," The former professor drawled, "Is that you've never taken much consideration for other people's feelings."
Sirius could not help but snort at such a hypocritical statement, his amusement only multiplied by the fact that his transgressions were far less severe than the crimes committed by his accuser.
"Well," He scoffed, "If that isn't the Pot calling the Kettle black."
"I am aware of my faults." Snape sneered, sticking her nose into the air. "You, on the other hand, are not."
"Do you honestly expect me to waste my manners on the likes of you?" Sirius condescended, amused at absurdity of such a thought.
Offering only a glower in way of reply, the home invader backed her way slowly towards the foot of the kitchen table, no doubt in pursuit of her wand.
"I have neither the patience, nor the time, to bicker with you." She remarked, using her foot to feel for the wand. "I have enough on my plate already."
"No more than anyone else." Sirius dismissed, opening a bottle of firewhiskey with more force than necessary. "You aren't even teaching anymore."
Still using her foot to root around for her wand, no doubt too cautious to turn her back on him, Severus gave a frustratingly smug smile at his remark.
"No, thank Merlin for that." Snape agreed, genuine relief dancing across her face.
"Then what do you have to complain about?" Sirius goaded, swallowing down three large swigs of firewhiskey.
"I wasn't." Snape denied, a decidedly violent edge creeping into her voice. "But I'll have you know that my schedule is still rather full with all the spying and brewing alone."
"That's a bed of your own making." Sirius condemned, collapsing into the furthest chair away from her.
"Perhaps." Snape conceded, still wandless. "But any woman could tell you that a bed ought to be remade every now and then."
"Is that what you think you're doing?" Black questioned, shaking his head at her absurdity.
"Why else would I be putting myself in mortal peril?!" Snape snapped, an angry flush decorating her otherwise colorless cheeks.
"Mortal peril?!" Sirius repeated, jumping to his feet.
"Yes, Black!" Snape's confirmation was more of a screech than a statement, and Sirius flinched at the volume. "Or do you delude yourself into thinking that the life of a spy is an easy one?"
"I should hope it's a miserable one, your reprobate bat!" With that powerful epitaph, Sirius stomped toward her, his sleep-deprived brain greatly effecting the way in which he controlled his temper. "It would be no less than you deserve!"
"How dare you?" Snape cried.
"If Lily were still alive today, she'd tell you the same damn thing." Black assured, pushing his face uncomfortably close to hers.
At such an admittedly cruel declaration, Snape closed the distance between them in a few quick steps, her skinny hand stretching backward and then forward at remarkable speed. Before Sirius had even had time to defend himself, the blow had landed. His right cheek stinging painfully, he stumbled backward a step, an unfamiliar surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins.
Locked away in Azkaban all those endless years, it had been the first time in a long time that Sirius had felt anything other than muddled contentment or rage. This, he thought with a shudder, was excitement.
Without giving though to his next action, Sirius seized her face, pushing his terribly chapped lips against the impossible softness of her own. But instead of meeting the gesture with excitement, Snape flinched, chomping down hard on his bottom lip before pulling away.
For a moment, Sirius thought she might strike him again.
"Snape," He began, prepared to put his arms up in surrender- "
Sirius did not have the opportunity to complete his sentence, for Snape was upon him in seconds, her petite little body pushed up against him as she kissed him back with fervor. Deprived of the comforts of sex for so long, Sirius responded in kind, allowing himself to wrap his arms about her tiny waist and pull her ever closer. She stretched her arms upward in return, digging the lengthy digits of her hands into his overgrown hair.
Sirius could not even begin to contemplate just how good it felt to have her pressed against him, her lithe, little body stretched out considerably just so that she might reach his lips. Feeling so euphoric, he could not even bring himself to mind that it was Snape allowing him this pleasure, Snape giving in his frantic need for intimacy.
Without hesitation, Sirius knew that he had to have her.
Suddenly sure of himself, he took a slow step backwards- the pale-skinned witch readily following his lead. Encouraged by her willingness, he quickened his pace, fearing that he might not make it to his bedroom if they dallied in the kitchen much longer.
In a tangled mass, they progressed through Grimmauld Place, half-stumbling over one another in their frantic pursuit of the master bedroom. It wasn't until they reached the grand staircase that they encountered any problems.
Easily dwarfed by his taller stature, it proved an immense feat to guide the potion-enthusiast backwards up the staircase. It was only with the significant contortion on both their parts that they were even able to make it halfway up the incline, Snape slipping up several times and nearly getting crushed as a result.
In an impatient huff, Sirius scooped up the underweight woman in one smooth swoop, eliciting a cry of surprise from his newly designated cargo. Clearly alarmed at the sudden shift in transportation, the Death Eater immediately wrapped her slender legs about his waist for both security and support.
Emboldened by the invigorating sensation of having the warmness between Snape's legs so near to his manhood, Sirius half-ran up the polished steps, planting several hungry kisses along the softness of Snape's neck. Shuddering at the action, the inky-haired woman craned her neck, graciously allowing him better access to that smooth stretch of perfumed flesh. With mild curiosity, Sirius wondered what such an intoxicating scent might be named.
But the idle thought did not last long, for moments late the two of them fell through his half-opened bedroom door in a snogging contortion of tangled limbs and conjoined lips. Moaning with relief at having finally arrived at the Promised Land, Sirius tossed his impromptu lover unto the oversized bed with tremendous ease, the scrawny woman giving out a soft cry as she sank into the overwhelmingly soft mattress.
Like a predator in frenzied pursuit of its prey, Sirius leaped over the ornate floorboard in one smooth swoop, landing on his knees just inches away from her. Flinching at the sudden approach, but holding her ground, Snape closed her eyes and allowed him to push her down unto the mattress with his body.
Raining moist kisses upon her collarbone, Sirius trembled when he felt her fingers delve into his hair once more. Emboldened by her participation, he dared to try and snake a hand up her skin-tight blouse. Unfortunately, his efforts were soon proven fruitless, for the garments lack of elasticity would only allow his eager fingers to push through to her belly button.
Appearing to sense his frustrations, and perhaps experiencing her own, Snape wriggled out from beneath him and leaned up against the myriad of pillows pressed against the headboard- her trembling, potion-stained fingers struggling to undo the endless buttons decorating her long-sleeved blouse. Like an impatient child, he watched her struggle, valiantly fighting against his strong urge to simply yank the black fabric from her shoulders.
Unfortunately for the blouse in question, Sirius's patience evaporated after a long five minutes had elapsed without meaningful result. Swatting Snape's fumbling fingers away, Sirius allowed his steadier digits to make quick work of the silver buttons.
Without hesitation, Sirius tugged open the lacey blouse, expecting the rewarding sight of a pair of bosoms. But instead of the treat he had expected, his eyes fell upon the horrific landscape of a body severely malnourished and battered. Very few inches of the colorless skin was, in fact, free from scarring. And if such an unexpected visage were not off-putting enough, his inadvertent glimpse of her Dark Mark certainly was.
Taking notice of his horrified expression, Snape blushed profusely, quickly turning her head to the side in order to avoid his gaze. Not wanting to jeopardize the already tenuous affair, his desire for sex more powerful than his revulsion of the tattoo, Sirius immediately kissed her neck- hoping to put the Slytherin at ease once more.
Slowly, but surely, the Occlumens unstiffened- her fatless body arching slightly when Sirius breathed into her ear.
"Do you like that?" He inquired, making certain that the words would tickle her ear.
Instead of a verbal reply, Snape gave a stifled cry of pleasure, her fingers tightening their grip on his hair. Rather than wince and run the risk of embarrassing her, Sirius thrust his tongue out from between his chapped lips and dragged it across the outline of her ear.
"Merlin!"
Delivered in an arousing whisper, the pleased exclamation gave Sirius all the confirmation he needed that Snape was just as eager as he was for this unexpected liaison. Thus assured, he all but ripped the black bra from her body. In a frenzied haste, he quickly tossed the design-free garment unto the floor, eager to take in the sight of the first set of breasts he'd seen in more than a decade.
Though her lack of fat had rendered her nearly breastless, Sirius looked in awe at the milky mounds, their perky pink peaks driving him half-mad. Without pause, he fondled them greedily, nearly drooling as he recalled just how pleasurable such an action could be.
Snape allowed him that simple pleasure without complaint, the corners of her plump lips turning up almost imperceptibly. But as much as had missed the velvety softness only breasts could provide, Sirius did not linger too long on those perfect twin peaks.
For he was a man more appreciative of a lady's bum. A preference both developed and cultivated during his teenage years at Hogwarts. Fortunately for him, Snape just so happened to possess one of the plumpest posteriors he had ever had the privilege of gawking at.
Wanting to unveil said derriere, Sirius decided that the time had come to remove her black slacks. Sped along considerably, by the fact that his manhood was pressing quite uncomfortably against his own trousers, he would have ripped the silver oval from the cotton fabric in his haste had he not been halted by Snape's flinching.
"Do you want to?" Sirius pressed, immediately withdrawing his hands and sitting upright.
Hesitation flickered across her pale face, but she nodded firmly.
"I need you to say yes." Sirius informed, unwilling to coerce a woman by any means.
"Yes."
Having received the much-needed consent, Sirius yanked the button from her slacks and impatiently tugged the cotton fabric down her legs. It was only once the slacks had pulled been pulled down to her frail ankles, that Snape grew confident enough to help. Snatching the ballet flats off her child-sized feet, the Double-Agent launched them across the bedroom, her matching pair of black stockings following not long after. One graceful wriggle later, and the slacks were removed as well, the surprisingly soft fabric crumpled in a heap at her feet.
Panting heavily, Sirius gazed down at the lacey fabric concealing the object he had desired most whilst locked away in Azkaban. Overwhelmed with excitement, he pressed down atop her and planted a sloppy kiss to the nape of her neck, the action eliciting a shudder of pure pleasure from Snape.
Assured of her mutual enjoyment, Sirius eagerly snaked his right hand beneath the silky fabric. Pressing his calloused palm against the furry warmth, he edged two adventurous fingers towards the entrance, prepared for an unhindered passage.
But at the last moment, Snape stiffened, recoiling so violently Sirius thought he might have somehow hurt her. Withdrawing his digits immediately, he sat upright, holding his hands up in the promise of surrender.
Snape blushed profusely, the cherry redness creeping from her cheeks all the way down to her bare chest, the healthy flush only serving to excite him more.
"Shall I stop?" Sirius pressed, steeling himself for the answer.
"No!" Her reply was nearly desperate, and again the pallid woman blushed.
Sirius need not ask her a third time. For while Snape's expression was that of a nervous variety, her dark eyes were aflame with determination and desire. Thus assured, he seized the black garment on either side, one strong tug ripping the bloomers from her hips.
"Are you sure?" He questioned once more, leaving no room for misunderstanding.
"Please."
Thus ordained, Sirius quickly shafted his own clothes, baring himself completely before two minutes could even elapse. Shyly, Snape stared upward at his naked form, a mixture of trepidation and arousal flicking across her normally expressionless face.
All at once, Sirius was self-conscious, a great expanse of time having elapsed since he was last naked before a woman. And while a few long months of recuperation might have given him a portion of his muscles and confidence back, Sirius fully realized that he was not yet fully returned to the peak of physical fitness.
But if Snape harbored any abhorrence for his prison-damaged body, she did not make her aversions known. Instead, the potion mistress was focused on his erected manhood, her large eyes riddled with fear.
"You're a virgin." Sirius realized, amazed at his stupidity at having not realized such a thing beforehand.
She was, after all, an unmarried Slytherin.
Unable to deny such an accusation, the black-haired woman colored once more, looking quickly away to her left.
"I'll be gentle." Sirius assured, desperate to continue. "Do you still want to?"
She gave a nod that, while hesitant, was firm.
"Be careful of my left shoulder." She cautioned, shrugging the body part in question.
Curious, he glanced downward at her naked form, greeted with the revolting sight of large, black bruise sore oozing white puss through an ill-applied and undersized bandage. But the Slytherin need not have worried about him being gentle; for so skinny was she, that Sirius was already worried about putting too much of his weight against her.
"Just relax." He advised softly, blowing the words into her ear in order to excite her.
Not wanting to enter her while she was still so stiff and unrelaxed, for her sake as well as his, Sirius went back to his age-old trick of finger exploration. Teasing the area in question with some skillful stroking, he poked in one finger and then two.
She froze initially, but when Sirius blew again into her ear she unstiffened, her breathing beginning to hitch as her right foot crept upward in pleasure. Satisfied with himself, he dared to sneak a peek at her expression.
Despite her eyes being turned backward in a fit of pleasure, Snape seemed to sense his gaze upon her face.
"The lights." Snape blushed. "Turn them off."
Despite his disappointment, Sirius reluctantly complied, her comfort ultimately more important than his own. Snape, after all, owed him absolutely nothing- much less sex.
"Take a deep breath." He cautioned, having resumed his fiddling after killing the lights.
Obliging him by heeding his advice, the surly minx effectively allowed Sirius to slip insider her without much resistance. It was only once he was within her warm bounds, that the potion mistress stiffened, tensing up severely on his already uncomfortably aroused manhood.
"Go on." Snape ordered, her voice nearly imperceptible.
"I can't." Sirius asserted, pulling himself free. "You need to relax first."
"I'm trying." She insisted, looking highly self-conscious. "It hurts."
A slender woman not yet deflowered, it came as no surprise to Sirius that her opening was proving difficult to navigate. Hoping to rectify the situation as tenderly as possible, without unnecessary discomfort to her part, he seized up the bottle of unscented lotion resting on his bedside table. Hoping the slippery liquid would prove sufficient to make the initial few impacts tolerable, he slathered on a generous portion to his manhood.
"Deep breath." He advised, once more.
At Snape's nod, he pushed himself inside her, the resistance minimal this time. In response, she gave a small cry, digging her sharp fingernails into his shoulder blades. Ignoring the painful sensation, he thrust again, and again. Until at last, she gave way to relaxation and began to enjoy the ordeal.
Sinking deeper and deeper into the pillows, Snape grasped at the pillows, a stifled moan spilling from her mouth ever few minutes or so. A performer at heart, the noises empowered him, and he soon found himself sliding in and out of her with a beast-like rhythm.
"Black!" She suddenly cried, melting into the mattress with a satisfied expression livening her face.
"Severus!" He responded, unwilling to dehumanize his temporary lover.
Sirius continued onwards for another ten minutes, eager to render his satisfaction complete. Realizing that he was dangerously close to approaching that plain of pleasure, he slipped out from her, snatching up the wand from his nightstand.
"Do you know the spell?" Sirius panted, desperately racking his brain for the answer.
Snape looked at him blankly, her ignorance needing no verbal confirmation.
Sirius could have cried from frustration, the injustice of being thwarted so close to his desired goal not at all lost on him. But before he could even scurry off the bed, in desperate pursuit of somewhere private to finish taking care of himself, Snape seized him about the waist and pulled him back down atop her.
"I'm unable to conceive." Snape assured him, dark eyes perfectly earnest.
Completely assured of the veracity of her statement, Sirius hurried back inside her, managing to thrust only a few more times before he erupted. Shuddering at his release, he collapsed atop her, panting heavily before he recalled her fragility and rolled off her.