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Author:
snax0
Recipient:
kiertorata
Title: The Distance That I Fell
Pairing: Severus Snape/Sirius Black.
Request/Prompt Used: "first kiss, denial"
Rating: PG-13.
Word Count: 270.
Summary: If he tries, Sirius thinks he can probably imagine that it’s someone else; can pretend that the body beneath his is someone he won’t come to regret.
Notes: First attempt at writing these two together, so I'm sorry if it sucks. Hopefully you like it, though! Also avilable on ao3.
Sirius is known to make some pretty bad decisions while intoxicated, and he’s certain this is going to be one of them.
It’s not his fault, not really. Low lighting, loud music, too much firewhiskey -- it’s a recipe for disaster. He blames James for leaving so early, blames his friends for leaving him out alone.
Because he’s certain, had they still been here, he wouldn’t have Severus Snape pushed up against the gritty wall of a muggle pub. Wouldn’t have a tongue down his throat, wouldn’t have the taste of someone else in his mouth. Wouldn’t be moaning while hands clutch at his shoulders, his torso; their grip equal parts angry and aroused.
Sirius thinks it’s funny, almost. He’d been angry when he’d spotted Snape, too. Even now, even years after they’d left school, the rivalry is still there. He’d been certain the bastard was going to ruin his night, was going to do something that made Sirius want to punch his teeth in. But then he’d had another drink, had ended up on the dance floor for a third time, and then, somehow, he’d ended up like this. Whatever this is.
The bar’s lighting is dim, dark enough that Sirius can’t make out Severus’ features. If he tries, Sirius thinks he can probably imagine that it’s someone else; can pretend that the body beneath his is someone he won’t come to regret.
He doesn’t, though. There’s something pleasing about knowing that it’s him, about knowing that Snape’s probably thinking the same thing he is. Something victorious.
He can deny the experience later. For now, he thinks he might enjoy it.
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Recipient:
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Title: The Distance That I Fell
Pairing: Severus Snape/Sirius Black.
Request/Prompt Used: "first kiss, denial"
Rating: PG-13.
Word Count: 270.
Summary: If he tries, Sirius thinks he can probably imagine that it’s someone else; can pretend that the body beneath his is someone he won’t come to regret.
Notes: First attempt at writing these two together, so I'm sorry if it sucks. Hopefully you like it, though! Also avilable on ao3.
Sirius is known to make some pretty bad decisions while intoxicated, and he’s certain this is going to be one of them.
It’s not his fault, not really. Low lighting, loud music, too much firewhiskey -- it’s a recipe for disaster. He blames James for leaving so early, blames his friends for leaving him out alone.
Because he’s certain, had they still been here, he wouldn’t have Severus Snape pushed up against the gritty wall of a muggle pub. Wouldn’t have a tongue down his throat, wouldn’t have the taste of someone else in his mouth. Wouldn’t be moaning while hands clutch at his shoulders, his torso; their grip equal parts angry and aroused.
Sirius thinks it’s funny, almost. He’d been angry when he’d spotted Snape, too. Even now, even years after they’d left school, the rivalry is still there. He’d been certain the bastard was going to ruin his night, was going to do something that made Sirius want to punch his teeth in. But then he’d had another drink, had ended up on the dance floor for a third time, and then, somehow, he’d ended up like this. Whatever this is.
The bar’s lighting is dim, dark enough that Sirius can’t make out Severus’ features. If he tries, Sirius thinks he can probably imagine that it’s someone else; can pretend that the body beneath his is someone he won’t come to regret.
He doesn’t, though. There’s something pleasing about knowing that it’s him, about knowing that Snape’s probably thinking the same thing he is. Something victorious.
He can deny the experience later. For now, he thinks he might enjoy it.