Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/77632.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_Rowling
  Relationship:
      Severus_Snape/Sirius_Black, Sirius_Black/Draco_Malfoy, Severus_Snape/
      Sirius_Black/Draco_Malfoy
  Character:
      Severus_Snape, Sirius_Black, Draco_Malfoy
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-04-03 Words: 6140
****** Prince of Dogs and Fools ******
by Nimori
Summary
     The trick -- Dumbledore's best -- is not in getting them to do as you
     wish, but making them want as you want.
Notes
     Written for Titti for Merry Smutmas 2005.
"Severus."
The whisper came from his pocket, and he clapped a hand over it, glancing at
the doorway to his bedroom. Draco lay on the bed, an unnaturally still huddle
balled in the precise center of the sagging mattress. Whether the stillness
came of exhaustion or pretense, Severus took no chances, and eased the door
shut. He layered a swath of privacy charms before drawing the card from his
robes.
"Albus." He jerked a nod at the cracked and dog-eared card. They were all
spelled to smell of chocolate frogs long after leaving the box, but
Dumbledore's managed to smell of lemon instead.
"I do apologise for disturbing you. How is the boy?"
Severus scowled at the card. "Don't pretend you care. Or do you mean the other
boy? Your little pet?" He regretted the words as they left his mouth, before
Dumbledore could adopt that injured look, but he would not take the sentiment
back. He sighed. "Draco's asleep. He hasn't the backbone for situation in which
he's put himself. As for Potter, no doubt half the world is mollycoddling him
through your funeral as we speak."
Dumbledore's portrait hummed a doubtful note but didn't argue. They both knew
it would be wasted breath -- or wasted animated pigment. "I have a small task
for you. I'd hoped to take care of it myself, but events moved too quickly near
the end."
"Balderdash." A headache advanced a few threatening pulses behind his eyes.
"You didn't take care of it because you were childishly optimistic and thought
your little trap would end in something other than the worst-case result."
"What happened was far from the worst, Severus." The picture nodded towards the
closed bedroom door.
Severus looked away -- from the door, from the card. "He's not well."
"He's alive. He's questioning."
"He blames himself."
"Voldemort killed Lucius. Not Draco. Not you." The picture tapped his side of
the card under Severus's thumb, and Severus flinched. "You'll set him
straight."
"Tell me this task," he said to keep from railing about complexities Dumbledore
reduced to a few words of faith. "You sound too pleased for me to hope it's not
something you think clever."
"I can't claim credit for it," the card said, ducking his painted head. "Doris
Purkiss's idea, you know. Shall we go... clubbing? Is that what they're calling
it these days?"
"I'm sure I don't know." Severus glared at the change of subject which, knowing
Dumbledore, wasn't unrelated at all.
"Ah well. To the Twisted Hippogriff!"
"If you're not joking, I'm flushing you down the toilet."
"It's in muggle London, so you might want to change."
Severus resisted the urge to crumple the card; it was already becoming frail
from the number of times he'd balled it up, dropped it, stepped on it, flung it
in the fire and then rescued it.
He didn't change, but he did check in on Draco one last time, cast a mild charm
to keep him asleep, and brushed his hair away from his damp forehead.
The chocolate frog card didn't say a word about the gesture, which Severus took
as a sign to prepare for a very unpleasant assignment.
*****
The Twisted 'Griff had a muggle neon sign, and a small mundane section at the
front. Severus swept through the half-pissed muggles and directly into the
wizards-only back room. The spells in which he'd cloaked himself would
discourage notice from all but the most persistent of aurors, but he drew his
robes closer anyway.
He saw Dumbledore's problem at once; it was hard to miss when it was clad in
too-tight leather and caterwauling on stage under an uneven sonorous charm.
He ordered a gnomish brandy, tossed it back, ordered another, slipped his hand
in his pocket. "Albus," he hissed, lifting his glass to cover his lips. "What
did you do?"
"He wouldn't stay put."
Severus could think of a dozen reasons Black was not off fawning over Potter.
He closed his eyes. "What. Did. You. Do?"
Dumbledore had popped a lemon sherbet into his mouth, to judge by the sudden
mumbling. "Harry couldn't afford such a weakness. And at the time Sirius could
not contribute enough to the effort to justify such a liability."
"So you arranged to have him removed?"
"I did no such thing!" The card sounded hurt, of all things. "I admit I took
advantage of the situation after the fact. I thought it best to carry on as
though Sirius could not be retrieved so that Voldemort could not reach Harry
through him again, and Sirius agreed."
"What?" The patrons to either side of him looked over, and Severus absorbed his
attention in his drink until they went back to their own business. He
strengthened the aversion charm on himself to keep them uninterested, but the
spells wouldn't do much good if he actively drew attention to himself. He
huddled over his drink, and mumbled into his collar. "Black would never agree
to such a thing."
Except he would, if Dumbledore had wanted his agreement, and Severus had been
on the receiving end of that want enough to know just how. Make the mutt feel
wretched about nearly getting his godson killed, add a few subtle jabs about
Potter getting on just fine all those years without him, offer salvation in the
form of a noble sacrifice. Black would have lapped it all up.
He glanced at the stage, where Black was currently doing something obscene with
a guitar. "That isn't an act, is it," he said. "He really thinks he's..."
Severus checked the poster spelled above the bar. "Stubby Boardman."
"Sirius didn't trust himself not to contact Harry."
You didn't trust him either, you crafty old coot. Good call.
The barman was casting surreptitious looks at him, so Severus knocked back his
drink and slipped away through the crowd. An infensus hex cast at two of the
patrons started an altercation to derail the barman's focus, and Severus slunk
into the men's room.
A ferocious glare sent the sole occupant -- whose transparent glamour screamed
underage -- scrambling for the exit. Severus clutched the card in his pocket,
creasing it.
"So, Albus. Now that you're dead and gone, you want me to put the mongrel to
rights, is that it? Send him off to console his poor little grieving godson?"
Severus thought of the pale boy huddled in the bed back at Spinner's End, no
one to ease his pain but his old professor, who was no one's first choice for
comfort. Narcissa did not dare come around while still navigating the Dark
Lord's wrath, expecting Severus to protect Draco from the Dark Lord. Voldemort
believed Severus to be keeping the boy from running off while he considered
whether Lucius's death was punishment enough for Draco's failure.
So long as they were both content to leave Draco in his care, Severus was happy
to leave them to their delusions.
"I might have known," Severus continued, irked that even after death Dumbledore
still protected his golden boys and left the tarnished ones to founder. "The
moment Potter gets a splinter--"
"Severus. That's not very fair."
He was being chided by a chocolate frog card in the filthy toilet of a bar.
"I know this is hard for you, my boy. I would not ask this of you if there were
any other way." The card hesitated. A muffled bout of applause seeped in from
the bar. "I hadn't planned this. Emmeline Vance was to retrieve Sirius if I
couldn't."
Severus clenched his jaw. He hadn't been able to prevent that and Dumbledore
knew it. All he could do was take the credit and use it to further their goals.
"You had months to choose another back-up."
"I chose you."
Severus stalked over to the urinals, and told the grimy porcelain what he
thought of Dumbledore's opinions.
The card sighed, loudly as anything less would be muffled by Severus's robes.
"You needn't act now. Harry is still vulnerable, but the time is coming when
the Order's need will outweigh any such risks. Sirius could be a great asset if
played at the proper moment."
"I doubt Black could be an asset under any circum--" He broke off as the door
crashed open, and the leather-clad atrocity himself strutted in.
"Got a bird under an invisibility cloak, eh mate?" Black elbowed him as he took
his place at the next urinal.
"No, I was having a conversation with my penis," Severus said through a sneer,
and wrinkled his nose at the haze of alcohol. That much, at least, had not
changed since Black's 'death.' He was hard pressed not to stamp his foot when
Black laughed -- loud and obnoxious, just like the rest of him.
"Needs a little coaxing, eh?" To Severus's horror, Black leaned closer and
peered down over his shoulder, splashing urine over the walls as his attention
-- and aim -- wandered.
Severus stepped away, fumbling for his wand. He cast a stringent full-body
cleaning charm in case any had landed on him, but Black misinterpreted the
spell as an invitation for more personal contact and followed, shaking himself
off as he finished. He fell to his knees and the sight sent an unexpected bolt
of heat through Severus. Sirius Black kneeling before Severus -- inebriated,
perhaps, and not himself, but he'd had dreams about this moment.
Of course those dreams had starred Black grovelling rather than attempting to
perform fellatio.
"Fussy one, aren't you?" Black nuzzled his crotch, weaving as he nosed through
Severus's open trousers. Severus took another step back, but encountered the
wall, smacking his head against the tile and giving Black the seconds he needed
to follow, to slide his hands up Severus's thighs and capture his cock with his
lips.
"Bl-- Boardman!" He fisted the man's hair, and that was the wrong thing to do
because it sent a surge down his spine, part lust, part triumph. His prick
swelled in the wet, warm mouth.
"Like i' rough," Black mumbled around his cock.
He released Black's hair at once and told his prick it should be more concerned
about the untrustworthy teeth circling it. It shouldn't be aroused. Black was
accosting him in a filthy bathroom, not... not servicing him. Black was not
humble on his knees, but wore that exact same aura of entitlement, that same
expectation for the universe to arrange itself around him which had driven
Severus mad all through school. Black was not begging. Black was not--
Black would be horrified when he remembered himself.
Severus groaned and yanked Black closer, twisting his fingers in the long dark
hair, ruining the perfectly tousled look. Black grunted, and made ridiculous,
happy wuffling sounds into Severus's pubic hair.
Alcohol may have impaired Black's balance, but he retained perfect control of
his mouth. He covered his teeth, used his tongue, maintained a maddening
combination of suction and friction that had Severus clinging to the wall to
keep his feet.
"Gawf uh onna ish ock."
That sounded like grovelling. Or at least a favourable comment about his cock.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Severus said, and pulled a strand of long
black hair.
"Mmm, very full." Black drew back to lap at his balls.
Definitely favourable.
Black's hand was working at a feverish pace between his own legs. The other was
splayed across Severus's belly, keeping him still or Black vertical, it was
hard to tell which. The mouth came back, sucking and insistent against the head
of his cock. Hazy grey eyes peered up at him from under sooty lashes long and
full as a woman's.
Bastard, Severus wanted to say, and instead found himself cupping a high-boned
cheek gently. The dark lashes fluttered shut and Black made an incoherent noise
of pleasure. The vibrations sent tiny bursts of ecstasy through Severus's body,
coiling in his balls, pulsing down his shaft.
Black swallowed it all and nuzzled his softening cock, looking for more.
Severus let the cool tile wall hold him up, and ignored that fact that his
fingers were carding through Black's hair. He looked down and sighed. Black had
come all over his shoes.
"Clean yourself up. You're pathetic."
Black only grinned and licked his lower lip. "'M not the one with his trousers
'round his ankles. Tell the barman I said you can have one of the glossy
posters." With that he tucked himself away and sauntered back out to the bar.
Severus stood frozen a moment before a soft cough from his pocket had him
scrambling to pull up his trousers and button his robes.
"Not one word, Albus."
He ignored the lemon-scented chuckle as he left the filthy men's room.
 
*****
The bed was empty when Severus returned, but the rattling pipes told him Draco
was showering. He poured himself a glass of wine and sat before the fire until
Draco emerged, Severus's threadbare towels wound around his waist and head.
"You weren't supposed to leave the house."
Draco's step faltered. Severus raised a brow, inviting him to puzzle it out.
"Your cloak, boy," he snapped when Draco said nothing. "It reeks of cigarette
smoke." He wasn't going to pretend he had recognized Draco past the glamour; it
had been sloppy of him to assume the boy in the men's room concealed his face
for the obvious reason.
It had been clever of Draco.
"Details," Draco muttered, and pulled the towel from his head to rub his hair.
The firelight glinted off the water trailing down his shoulders as they flexed.
Severus looked away.
"The authorities are searching for you. You should not have followed me."
"And you shouldn't be fucking grotty old has-been singers in public." Draco
pitched the hair towel at the umbrella stand and flung himself onto the settee.
"The Dark Lord will not be forgiving if he finds you've disobeyed him!"
"I don't care! I hate him."
The words sent a frisson of mingled fear and hope down his spine. He couldn't
afford to believe Draco meant it.
Silence ruled for a moment before Severus said, "You had best watch when and
where you say such things." He fought back the urge to shake the stubborn child
until he learned how greatly he overestimated his place in the world. "I've
protected you thus far--"
Draco snorted, and Severus whipped his head around, a scathing rebuke on his
tongue. It died at the careless part of Draco's other towel. His mouth snapped
closed.
"What's the matter, Severus?" Draco turned out his knees a fraction more. The
towel was split high enough for the firelight to catch on fine golden hair.
"Did your manky old entertainer not satisfy you?"
"I've not given you leave to use my given name. You will address me with the
respect I'm due." The words sounded hollow even to himself.
"Oh, yes, Sir," Draco breathed, gaze still boring through him. "How very kinky
of you."
Impatience flashed through Severus. Draco would of course choose the night
Severus most wanted some quiet thinking time to snap out of his malaise and
into this spoiled prince routine. "I'll forgive your insolence but don't test
me, Draco. You're here on my forbearance and I am not your father, to be
manipulated." He held up a hand to cut off Draco's outraged protest. "I
promised your mother I would protect you as much as I am able. This clumsy
attempt at seduction is unnecessary, and beneath you."
"You think I'm doing this because I want your protection?" Draco snarled.
Severus raised a brow.
"All right, maybe a little. But that's not all of it." Damp fingers twisted the
towel's edge. "Don't tell me you've never thought of it."
"Thought of what?" Severus sneered. "A spoiled adolescent -- who once wet his
nappies in my lap, I might add -- throwing himself at me like a love-struck
Hufflepuff?"
"You may not have noticed, Severus, but I'm an adult now." Draco stood, leaving
the towel to the sofa. He spread his arms, inviting -- or daring -- inspection.
His throat had gone dry, but he forced his mouth to twist into a smirk. Much as
Draco had a point, Severus Snape did not lose arguments. No matter to what
lengths he had to go to win. He raked his gaze over the lean pale body that was
the current centerpiece of his lounge, twisting his expression into the exact
look he wore grading Longbottom's potions. A drop of sweat edged down the side
of his neck and the sneer wavered, but he held it, held it...
With a snarl, Draco flounced off to the bedroom and slammed the door, and
Severus collapsed back into the battered wingback chair.
"Not one word, Albus," Severus hissed again, and slapped his pocket when it
coughed.
*****
Now that Severus had his quiet time to sort the matter of Black (what to do
with him, thank you, not the regrettable and already forgotten incident in the
men's room), he found his thoughts recalcitrant. They chased each other, and
the evening's second drama intruded and the forgotten incident made itself not
so forgotten after all, until his head was a jumble of Draco and Black and
towels and urinals and unpalatable orders from lemon-scented chocolate frog
cards.
At last he shoved it all away. Draco was a disturbed young man who could be
forgiven a few ill-thought advances, Black a burden and a horrid mistake, and
Dumbledore no more sane in death than life. Severus had, perhaps, gone a little
mad from the stress. Yes. That explained everything.
He told himself, as he washed for bed, that morning would dispel the twined
thoughts of Black on his knees and Draco in his towel, both open and eager.
He closed all the lights and went to the bedroom, intending to either evict
Draco to the sofa for the night or have the saccharine heart-to-heart Draco
seemed to be fishing for and then evict him to the sofa.
The room was empty.
"That little shit." Severus looked to the inconspicuous miniature tucked away
high on a bookshelf. "Mother?"
"He put on a glamour. Older, brown hair."
The same one he'd used at the nightclub. Foolish child.
"Don't be too hard on him, Severus. He's just a boy."
I was just a boy, he thought, but said nothing. He'd heard the excuses and
rationalizations a hundred times. He snatched his cloak from the hallway and
disapparated to muggle London.
The nightclub was closed, the garish signs gone dark, and Severus scanned the
second-storey flats through slit eyes. Two of the three lit windows looked to
be from the same flat. Severus ducked into the alley and scaled the narrow
balcony.
The view was wavery with dew collecting on the glass, but the bedsit had seen
better days and cleaner occupants. Draco, in his brunette glamour, had Black
pinned to a chair and was straddling him. Neither wore a stitch of clothing,
and the rolling motion of Draco's hips left no doubt on their activity.
Draco, Severus had to admit, had a point about growing up.
It's just the glamour, he told himself, though really, Draco's usual appearance
was far more attractive. He halted that line of thought before it could bring
him grief.
Inside, Black was positively gnawing on one of Draco's ears, greedy hands
squeezing the pale arse, opening Draco's cheeks and slamming him down with each
rough stroke. Draco clutched the chair back and groaned loud enough to wake the
dead, tossing his head back theatrically as he ground his hips down.
Severus cursed. He thought -- hoped -- Draco didn't know Black well enough to
recognize him, particularly as that once-pretty face had had the worst of the
damage sanded away, no doubt as part of his disguise. Black's Azkaban-ravaged
face could pass for drug- and alcohol-worn now. Or perhaps Dumbledore had set
him to rights and Black frittered the gift away with hard use.
Typical of Black,he told himself, and ignored all the gifts he himself had
squandered -- invitations to tea with the headmaster, turned down when he could
have picked the old coot's brain for hints at a master plan Severus only half-
believed existed.
Spilled milk. Water and bridges. He was certain -- reasonably certain at any
rate -- that Dumbledore never planned for Severus to be lurking on a balcony
like a peeping Tom, watching while Sirius Black fucked his cousin's rather
limber son.
The tiniest of sounds escaped Severus's lips. It might have been a whimper, but
with no witnesses, he would never admit to it.
Black had slouched further back in the chair, and was tossing his head and
crying out in a voice muted by glass. Draco rose higher on his knees, crouched
over Black's hips, riding him like a jockey, and Severus thought of Draco and
riding crops and Black's tanned skin laddered with red welts, and at that
moment Black turned his head just so and his gaze locked with Severus's.
"Jesus!" The whole chair -- Black and Draco with it -- went tumbling backwards,
leaving Severus a fine view of legs and undersides, both flesh and wood. By the
time they sorted themselves, Severus had let himself in, dignity unmarred by
the awkward scramble through the window.
"You're the bloke from the early show. Are you some sort of stalker?" Black
asked, untangling himself from Draco and the much abused chair.
"Don't flatter yourself. I'm his guardian." Severus nodded at Draco, who
dispelled the glamour and threw Severus a smug glare.
Black's gaze darted to Draco's new face. "Look, you're legal, right? If you
are, I'll toss him out on his arse, but..." He trailed off, eyes narrowing.
Fuck.
"Perhaps you ought to run along home after all," Black said in the straining-
for-casual voice Severus had hoped not to hear. "You don't want a row with your
guardian, not even for a shag with the one and only Stubby Boardman." He tried
for a charming grin, but it never reached his eyes.
"Well, Severus?" Draco arched a brow. "Shall we run along?"
"You are quite possibly more foolish than Potter and Longbottom combined,"
Severus growled, drawing his wand.
"Oh, just obliviate him and let's go." Draco snatched his shirt from the lamp,
scowling.
Severus snarled. He could only guess what an obliviation charm would do to the
spells keeping Black's mind submerged in this persona, yet he couldn't leave
Black to call the aurors the second Severus and Draco left.
He had very few choices, none of them palatable.
"Aperio ego," whispered the card from his pocket, and Severus grit his teeth
and cast the spell. He had the pleasure of watching Black go cross-eyed and
then crumple into a shuddering heap.
"Well," Draco said, nudging Black's ribs with an elegant bare toe, "that seemed
excessive. Whatever it was." He reached for his wand, which was lying crosswise
to Black's on the table, but Severus summoned both wands and pocketed them.
Dumbledore's trading card murmured a protest at the company.
Draco raised a casual eyebrow, but his shoulders tensed, muscle knotting under
bare skin and betraying his casual stance. "Jealous, are we?"
"We are not," Severus said. He sounded petulant. Draco, of course, would
misinterpret the tone, make it about him. Of course, Draco made everything
about him -- and sometimes Severus was half-convinced it was.
Black groaned and rolled to the side. His cock had only softened part way,
Severus noticed -- and he only noticed out of disgust, not fascination, he told
himself.
"Any'ne get the number 'f that erumpent? Christ, Snape," Black said, sitting up
and clutching his head with both hands, "what did you--" He stilled, even his
breath freezing, and then dropped his head to his knees. "Please tell me I
didn't."
Severus allowed himself a well-deserved smirk. "You did."
"And then with..."
"Indeed."
Draco looked from one to the other, and gasped as Black tipped his face up and
squinted at him. The improvement to his appearance had been part of the
enchantment Severus had just broken, for every line was back and Black looked
only slightly better than his old wanted posters.
"Do we take him to the... to him?" Draco asked, sounding small. Severus stayed
silent and let him work out the significance of Severus taking both wands.
After a moment Draco's entire body went taut.
He didn't accuse Severus of treachery though. He didn't demand to know
Severus's allegiance. He didn't move at all.
Black took the moment of silence as an invitation for his input. "Bloody
fucking hell, you greasy sack of-- Give me my wand. I've got to get back to
Harry."
"So eager to get him killed?" Severus asked, never moving his eyes from Draco.
"Shut up! It's not--" Black looked up at him from under his rumpled fringe and
then struggled to his feet. Severus kept his wand ready. "It's not time yet, is
it?"
"I've discharged my duty," Severus said. "You can take responsibility for your
own actions, like the rest of us."
"Don't fucking talk to me about responsibility!" Black shouted. "Stubby reads
the fucking paper. I know what you did."
Severus dropped Draco's gaze and locked glares with Black, feeling it an almost
physical contest of wills. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face to
vanish below his collar, and he refused to remember those grey eyes boring into
him with another sort of intensity.
Draco broke the standoff by stepping between them. "Boys, don't fight. You can
both have me." He smirked, a narrow and calculating expression, but a second
later proved himself at least half-serious by backing up to Black and cupping
his balls.
Black slapped his hand away, but looked suddenly doubtful, chewing the inside
of his lip. Severus caught his eye again, and pressed forward, a swift strike
before Black realized and looked away.
Doubt confusion guilt dismay and maybe that's what Albus meant and not ready,
too soon and I can be cunning too, you snake and never ever underestimate
manipulative barmy old men.
"Severus," Draco said, drawing his gaze and, inadvertently, the press of his
thoughts.
You're up to something, tell me and terror lust loathing grief and anything for
you and don't leave me behind.
The connection snapped in an eyeblink. Draco smiled.
"All right?" he asked. "We're all friends. Family. Right, Cousin Sirius?" Draco
looked like he thought himself caught between an angry hippogriff and a viper
and imagined he could get away by offering sweets.
Draco, Severus knew now, did not want to get away.
"Right, Severus?" Draco continued. He'd begun to shift his hips, rolling his
backside against Black's thigh. "We can all get along. I watched the two of you
in the men's room."
Black growled, but his cheeks tinged red and his erection, vanished some time
during the battle of wills, returned with interest.
Severus's disobedient mind offered another vision involving Draco and Black and
riding crops. And perhaps a gag. No, two gags.
Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face, to judge by Draco's
sudden smirk and Black's look of fascinated revulsion.
"You're getting off on this," Black said with no real heat to his tone.
Severus gave Black's cock, now being teased to greater hardness by Draco's
clever fingers, a pointed look.
Draco laughed and beckoned him forward, and his legs obeyed before he could
tell them otherwise. Draco latched on to Severus the moment he was within
reach, and a soft damp mouth clamped onto his own.
He pressed his lithe body against Severus's lanky one, kissing him and
abandoning Black to wind arms and legs around Severus in a serpentine dance.
Severus caught the creeping hand before it reached the pocket with the wands in
it, and drew all three wands and flung them across the room. Black,
unexpectedly helpful, caught Draco's wrists and pinned them behind his back.
"Will he rat you out to the Dark Lord?" Black asked. He seemed to have made a
decision, but Severus's brief glimpse into his chaotic mind shed little light
on what that might be.
"Severus won't give me the opportunity," Draco grumbled. He didn't seem to mind
Black holding his arms, and he kept one leg wrapped around Severus's thigh.
"I will handle Draco."
"Someone had better handle me soon." Draco squirmed, hard and hot against
Severus's hip.
"He's like a cat in heat," Black said. He had edged closer, pressing Draco
between their bodies. The flush lingered on his face, fanning over high
cheekbones.
"He's been unbearable the last few days."
"Fuck off, both of you." Despite the words, Draco made no move to pull away. He
tipped his head back to Black's shoulder and they regarded Severus with
identical grey eyes. He wondered if this was how flobberworms felt as they lay
on his chopping block. "Take off your clothes, Severus."
"It is rather warm in here," said Black, tilting his head to rest against
Draco's. "And those trousers look snug."
They were. He'd been trying not to notice.
Black released Draco's arms and two sets of hands allied against his buttons.
In short order they'd made a mess of it, coat half-off but still done up,
trousers down but shoes still on and pants around his knees while Black
chuckled and Draco growled and made everything worse in his impatience.
They half-carried Severus, cursing and trying to free his arms, over to the
bed. Draco left stripping him to Black and set to licking and biting every bit
of Severus's increasingly exposed skin.
The bites, he felt sure, were retaliation for his earlier refusal.
The clothing found its way to a heap on the floor, and Severus found himself
pinned to the bed by a blond whirlwind and a black-haired earthquake. They had
switched around at one point, and Black lay at his side, sucking that spot on
his neck that turned him to lime jelly and rumbling happy noises. Draco staked
a claim from his navel to his bollocks, and was inspecting every inch of his
new acquisition.
"You're a lot more attractive when you're not talking," Black mumbled against
his neck.
"I could say the same of you." They kissed, tongues twining (and, not
incidentally, silencing each other) until Draco butted between them, demanding
his share.
"So," Severus asked, "have you manipulated the situation to your satisfaction?"
"Not quite," Draco said. "I want you to take Cousin Sirius while he takes me."
His voice lowered, turned bitter. "I want to remember when you take me." The
stubborn set of his jaw seemed to add, and you will. "Remember this, Severus,"
Draco continued as he elbowed Severus over and tugged Black atop him. Black
looked amused. "We could be back home, just the two of us."
Severus declined to note the whole situation was Draco's doing.
"Oi, don't be rude," Black said, slapping Draco's thigh. "Invite me home in
your fantasy."
Draco began a retort but Black pushed inside him and the words drained away.
"Mmm, yes you're invited. As often as you wa-ant! Oh!" Draco clawed at Black's
back, arching and writhing.
Perhaps his earlier theatrics had been genuine, Severus mused as he fumbled for
the lube Black had thrown him. Shop-bought potion, muggle by the container. He
rubbed the slick substance between his fingers and sniffed it.
"Merlin, hurry," Draco said. "He's already used it on me. It's fine."
Severus had to admit Black wasn't likely to use anything sub-standard on his
person. He slicked his fingers. Draco held Black open while Severus prepared
him, held him still while Severus entered him. Then they just held each other.
"All right?" he asked Draco, who had to be feeling the weight of both men.
"Less fussing, more fucking."
"No one asked you, Black."
"Cousin Sirius has a point, Severus."
Severus visualized a crop in his hand. A nice one. Heavy, black, smelling of
leather and oil. Draco might even let him use it on that fine porcelain skin. A
nice firm smack for sassing him. Two for agreeing with Black.
Unfortunately, visualizing the gags would not produce the desired results.
He clutched Black's bony hips and rolled his own, gentle at first because of
Draco and then, after Draco moaned for more and faster and harder, because
their position demanded care to maintain.
And then, later still, for the joy of sliding into Black's tight arse, feeling
him flex into Draco, meeting Draco's eyes over Black's shoulder as they fucked
Black together, and fucked each other through Black's body.
He groped below Black's belly and found Black's hand already there, stroking
Draco's erection. He joined it, rubbing the head, tugging on what little of the
tightly stretched foreskin he could gather, thumbing the slit while Black
pumped the shaft until Draco tossed his head back, the long pale column of his
throat working silently as he spurted over their fingers.
Severus pulled out, flipped Black around, drove in again. Black met him with an
eager thrust and hungry mouth, twisting his long fingers in Severus's hair.
They fucked, slow and hard, while Draco watched with storm-grey eyes.
*****
After, they lay in a tangled multi-limbed heap, Draco looking pensive, Black
frowning at the ceiling. Severus stirred at last, feeling the need to get back
to the warded house at Spinner's End.
"Going to obliviate me now?"
"It's for your own safety," Black said before Severus could answer. "Voldemort
can see right into your head."
Draco chewed on his lip. "Shouldn't you obliviate Sirius then, too?"
"You'll do more than that." Black looked at him finally. The little frown had
smoothed away. "Put me back the way I was."
"Can't keep yourself under control, Black?" The jibe was half-hearted, and
Black ruined it by agreeing.
"I won't be able to keep away from Harry. First time the papers run a nasty
story on him and I'll be at his doorstep. If you want him to succeed, you'll
hide me until I'm needed."
"And if you're never needed?"
A slow smile crept over Black's lips, still swollen and bitten red. "I suggest
you make sure I am. Albus left your ticket to freedom with me."
Severus embarrassed himself by gaping in a terrible fish-like manner. "What?"
Black's smile twisted into a grin. "Your freedom, when we win the war. That's
what Albus meant by-- Well, I have it, anyway." Black shrugged. "If you'd
rather go to Azkaban than live in a world where I'm not dead, fine. But I'm
telling you, Snape, Stubby Boardman is one happy man. Happier than Sirius Black
ever was. If not for Harry I wouldn't mind being him forever. You'll come back
just to make me miserable again."
Severus snorted. Black had a point, and giving them mutual power over each
other sounded like Dumbledore's idea of poetic justice.
Severus leaned over the side of the bed and fished for his coat.
The miniature Dumbledore in the card had his fingers in his ears and was
humming Christmas songs. No sense telling him it was June. He gave Severus the
spell and when asked to confirm Black's claims only said, "Neither of you would
accept a gift that came without price. You don't believe I would leave you to
hang, Severus, do you?"
Draco and Black had their heads together when he returned with their wands.
Talking about him, not all of it uncomplimentary.
Not all the compliments from Draco.
They were also kissing and touching, not to arouse but for... something.
Comfort, he supposed. He'd never been good at that. He broke them apart and
kissed Black, a hard possessive kiss that gentled near the end.
"Ego dissimulo," he said, and Black slipped back to the rumpled bed. Draco
watched without expression.
Severus handed Draco the cleanest bottle he could find. "You may store a few
thoughts. For after, when it's safe."
Draco's mouth twitched into a smile, and he took the bottle and his wand from
Severus.
"I won't need much persuading to join your little Order, you know," Draco said,
as though over tea. "Not after Father... and anyway, I wouldn't betray you even
if you confessed to being Potter himself. Sex would help," he added with a sly
look as he pulled a long strand of memory from his head.
"Uh-huh."
"I'm serious. Seduce me, and I'm yours whatever you do. Though not too quickly,
or I'll get suspicious. It won't be hard. Trust me."
"Obliviate," Severus said, just to stop the chatter.
They left Black asleep on the bed with a smile on his face. Draco quickly
decided Severus had stormed into the flat in a jealous rage. Severus didn't
correct him.
He'd settle things with Draco before suggesting they invite the grotty old has-
been entertainer to join them. He knew a little shop just outside Knockturn
that smelled of leather and steel and oil and musky incense...
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