rarepair_shorts | WISHLISTS: Leave Yourself Behind (Severus/Sirius).

Author:

snax0
Recipient:

digthewriter
Title: Leave Yourself Behind
Pairing: Severus/Sirius
Prompt Used: Wedding hook-up, waking up in bed together.
Rating: NC-17.
Word Count: 1,000.
Summary: Severus and Sirius wake up in bed together.
Content Warnings: Slight AU, brief mention of alcohol, implied James/Lily.
Notes: I mixed a few of your prompts together and my brain produced this. Hope you like it! AO3 link.

The sun wakes Severus, its harsh beams filtering in through the window and illuminating the room. It shines across his face, makes the back of his eyelids glow bright red, and Severus damns his past self for forgetting to close the bloody curtains. He shifts against the mattress, buries his face back into the pillow, and wills his body to fall back into a much-needed sleep.

No such luck.

His head is already throbbing, the pain ebbing its way across his temple and growing more and more apparent with each passing second. His body aches, exhaustion embedded bone deep, and when he shifts again he’s met with a loud crack as the bones of his ankle click.

He sighs, sits up, and then stops dead in his tracks.

The sight of a body in his bed isn’t necessarily surprising, it’s who the body belongs to that provokes the inkling of panic. He’s faced with a scar littered back, long locks of curled hair falling across the skin and bunching together where body meets bed. The blanket is pulled loosely around him, one arm tucked beneath a torso while the other hangs off the mattress.

Severus doesn’t need to see the face. He’d recognise Black anywhere.

There’s a rustle as Black moves, the sheets brushing against bare skin. Hair falls away and Severus is met with the long lines of a neck, with small, faded bite marks that can only mean one thing.

All at once, the memories come flooding back. The reception, the argument, Lily’s frustrated plea for them to just get along. For one night. Please.

Another rustle, and Severus sighs again, head dropping to rest in his hand. Fingers massage his temple, eyes fluttering shut, and—

There’s a quiet thud when his back hits the wall, but it’s drowned out by Black’s breathing, by the whisper of fabric as it’s pushed aside with haste, by the brush of skin against skin. By a bang as the door shuts, a clatter as shoes are kicked off, a squeak as a body hits the bed.

It’s amazing, really, how hard it is to stop once you’ve started; how hard it is to pull away even when your brain is yelling at you to do just that. Amazing, again, how much your body can want something even when it knows it shouldn’t.

Sirius’s mouth is burning hot, his touch careless. He grabs at Severus; clutches onto the bony body, red lines and faint, purple-tainted crescents left in his wake.

Severus meets him tit for tat.

There is no time to think. No time left to stop and re-evaluate. No time to realise exactly what they’re doing. There’s only the soft drag of lips across skin; lips that were often so cruel, lips that had been murmuring threats mere moments ago. Only the press of a body against another, only a string of groans indicating pleasure, only probing fingers and the delicious, addicting burn of being fu—

Severus shakes his head and looks up. He’d known attending the wedding would be a mistake.

He needs to wake Sirius up, he knows, but part of him wants to just wait, to pretend to be asleep until Black wakes up and leaves on his own. His head is still throbbing – he’d drunk too much, but he’d had to. Wouldn’t have been able to get through the bloody night if he hadn’t – and the situation isn’t helping.

There’s a groan before he has the chance to do anything, a soft swish as the blanket slides half off the bed, and then—

“Shit.”

Severus watches Black’s eyes widen, watches as realisation dawns on his face. Watches as Sirius relives the memories just as he had. The look he’s left with is something between disbelief, annoyance, and a flickering hint of interest.

The silence stretches, the tension between them growing by the second. Severus becomes uncomfortably aware that they’re both still naked, their bodies poorly covered by his strewn bed covers.

“Well,” Black starts. He looks around the room, takes note of the clothes that scatter the floor. “I’ll be off.”

There’s another pause, as if he expects Severus to say something, but it never comes.

He gets up eventually, a sheet wrapped around his waist, and stumbles his way around the room. There’s a stream of muttered curses as he gathers his clothing, and it’s almost comical to watch. Would be comical, really, had he been anyone else.

Sirius steps out of the bedroom and into the open area of Severus’s flat to redress. Severus stays in his spot on the bed, thinking it best to just let him leave. It’s not like they’re the type to say goodbye.

Sirius pauses at the bedroom door once he’s dressed, Severus’s sheet bundled in hand. He moves to step further inside the room but stops himself, choosing instead to just drop the sheet on the inner side of the doorway. He turns to leave but stops again, looking back to Severus with an inexplicable expression.

“You’re not going to tell any—”

“No.”

“Right.” Sirius nods once, and he looks as unsure as Severus has ever seen him. His back is rigid, his movements awkward. Severus is almost certain the shirt under his dress robe is inside out. “Right,” he repeats. “Bye.”

He disappears as quickly as that, and Severus listens as the door to his flat is open and shut, listens until he the only thing he can hear is the sound of his own breathing and the general bustle of the world outside.

He’d meant what he’d said. He doesn’t plan on telling anyone, thinks it best if their encounter stays a well-kept secret, but there is something about the way Sirius had acted, something in the awkwardness, in the way he’d looked at Severus before he left that makes Severus believe this won’t be the last time he’s left in a bed half-warmed by the heat of Sirius Black’s body.

It’s not as bad a thought as he thinks it should be.