Oral Sex

He didn't bother asking. Snape would have sneered, "Of course I mind, Black," so instead he just plopped his bottle and glass on the table and pulled up a chair. Snape glared anyway.

Sirius lifted the bottle in a gesture of placation. "I come bearing gifts. Anyway," he said, pouring a generous measure into Snape's glass, "all the other tables are filled with yapping youngsters. I didn't think it was right to inflict myself upon them."

"So you inflict yourself upon me."

"Exactly." He poured himself some of the firewhiskey and tossed it back. It was the good stuff, not the swill that he usually drank. Nothing was too good for Harry.

Snape seemed determined to stare him down. "Why?"

"Well." Sirius wasn't sure, exactly, what had made him push through the crowd to where Snape sat alone at the table for eight. He looked as out of place in the brightly-dressed wedding crowd as a vulture among hummingbirds. "Why did you come?"

"I was invited," Snape said, in a tight voice.

God, the man was as touchy as a feral cat. "I know you were invited. But we were surprised you accepted."

"Albus thought it might 'be good for my reputation' to be seen at Potter's wedding." Sirius could hear the scorn twisting in his voice, the unspoken resentment that Harry, again, had garnered all the laurels, and Snape was left covered in ashes.

"Nobody likes a former Death Eater, eh?" Snape's face darkened, and Sirius hastily added, "Or a former convicted murderer."

"Fuck you," spat Snape.

Walked into that one, thought Sirius. He gave the other man a half-smile.

"Fuck you," he said, clinking his glass against Snape's. The firewhiskey slid smoothly down his throat.

After a moment, Snape gave a short bark of a laugh, and took a drink as well.

...

"I was in Azkaban for two-thirds of his life. On the run for most of the rest of it. Now that I'm a free man, he no longer needs me."

"Spare me your whingeing, Black."

"Do you hate him as much as you hated James?"

"Spare me your psychoanalysis, Black."

Sirius took another sip. "I don't hate you any more."

"Why should I care?" Snape was not even looking at him. There were obviously far more interesting things than Sirius Black contained in the bottom of his glass.

"I know what you did for Albus. You may be an unpleasant, greasy bastard, but I know you're on our side."

"And what side is that?" Each word was spit out as though it tasted like sawdust.

"The side of goodness and light and fluffy bunnies, Snape. What the hell do you think I'm talking about?"

Snape sighed and put his glass down with a small 'thud'. "I have no idea. Nor, I suspect, do you."

"I don't hate you any more," Sirius repeated, pouring a bit more firewhiskey into each glass. "You're a war hero, you know."

"You're a madman. And I shan't forget you tried to kill me once."

"Thirty years ago, Snape. People change."

"Perhaps." He wasn't giving an inch.

"Of course," Sirius said, leaning towards him, "you're still an unpleasant, greasy bastard."

"Fuck you."

Sirius raised his glass. "Fuck you."

Clink. And they both drank. Sirius could swear he saw the ghost of a smile on Snape's lips as he set his glass down.

...

"...and then Potter, the idiot, blundered right in front of it." Snape shook his head. "That fool never realized that invisible does not equal undetectable."

Sirius laughed despite himself. "You shouldn't mock your host at his own wedding."

"I'm astonished he survived long enough to get married."

"I'm astonished any of us survived."

"Me too, Black." The corner of Snape's mouth quirked a fraction. "I will admit -- under duress, mind you -- that your work for the Order probably saved many lives."

"Ah," said Sirius, casually, "so you owe me a life debt now?"

Snape's eyes flashed. "What you did cancels out your earlier attempt on my life. No more."

A smile. Move in for the kill. "Then we're even."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you."

They drank.

...

"...and I didn't like the way you looked at Remus," he concluded.

"What way I looked at Remus?" Snape's blush was as good as a confession.

"The same way I did," he admitted. "Too bad he's straight, don't you think? Though his wife's a fine woman."

Snape was staring at him. "You were drooling over Remus?"

"I was."

Two beats more, and Snape started sniggering. "Ye gods, I don't believe it. All those poor girls chasing after you. They must have been devastated."

"I like girls, too," Sirius said, airily.

"Oh."

"You don't?"

"The female form never held much attraction for me."

"Nor vice-versa, I imagine."

"Fuck you."

"You wish."

Snape leaned over and clinked his glass against Sirius's, hard. "Fuck you."

"Oh. Fuck you."

They drank.

...

Well, those dress robes did make him look quite elegant. "I might consider it."

"Consider what?"

"Consider you."

A splutter.

"Now, that was a waste of perfectly good whisky." Sirius refilled Snape's glass, and added more to his own. Hmm, might need a new bottle soon, at this rate.

"I decline."

"Too late," said Sirius, cheerfully. "I poured it, you have to drink it."

"I was referring to...the other." Snape waved his hand and nearly knocked the bottle over. He looked visibly embarrassed. Good.

Sirius fluttered his eyelashes and made a moue. "You can't turn me down. I'm such a catch."

"Oh, please. You're a mangy mutt."

"You're a greasy git."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you."

They drank.

...

"Actually," Sirius mused, "you're looking far less greasy today. I see you washed your hair in Harry's honor."

"When I dress for an occasion, I attempt to do it justice."

"Not bad at all. You should do it more often."

"No point in putting on the dog for oblivious students."

"Now, now. Do I detect a slur?"

Snape's eyes glittered maliciously. "Dog. Dog dog dog."

"Git git git."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you."

They drank.

...

He looked up at a noise; it was Remus and, oh hell, what was her name? Angelica? Angela?

"Sirius. We're heading out now." His eyes darted back and forth between the two men.

"Yeah, okay." Sirius thought about standing, decided the risks were not worth it.

"Wolf wolf wolf," chanted Snape. Sirius giggled.

Remus stared. "Severus, are you all right?"

"Perfectly fine, Remus. Perfect. Pray introduce me to your lovely wife."

"The fine woman," interjected Sirius.

"Er, Angelique, this is Severus, an old schoolmate of mine. And you know Sirius. And we are leaving now."

"Charmed," said Angelique, looking bored. They moved away.

"Fuck you," said Snape, to their retreating backs.

"Not enough to share, anyway," said Sirius, pouring the last bit into their glasses.

...

"Bottle's empty," said Snape. He sounded gloomy.

"Fuck."

"You could get more."

"Your turn."

Snape gave him the Death Glare. Tried to, anyway.

"You can't look intimidating if you can't focus, you prat."

"Fuck you."

Sirius held up his glass. "We're empty."

"Fine." Snape stood up, and his chair fell over backwards. Sirius laughed.

"Shut up."

"Prat."

Snape came over and gave him a push. Chair and Sirius both tumbled to the ground. "Hah."

Sirius looped his arms around Snape's legs and pulled him down in a tangle of long limbs. "Hah yourself."

"Fuck you."

"Can't, we're empty." He looked up at Snape's flushed face, inches from his. "Unless that's an invitation."

"Fuck ymmmph," said Snape, as Sirius wrapped a hand behind his neck and kissed him, hard. He tasted of firewhiskey.

...

The new Mr. and Mrs. Potter had already left for their two weeks in Corfu. A few knots of people remained, but the party was over, and it was time to go. The Hogwarts professors had arrived in a group, and were about to depart in a group, although Severus was nowhere to be seen. Albus Dumbledore scanned the room; he had actually expected Severus to leave early, but Remus had said (with a rather bemused look on his face) that he was at a table near the back with Sirius. Who was also nowhere to be seen.

Albus was on the point of rejoining the remaining teachers for the trip back to Hogwarts when he caught sight of four black-clad legs poking discreetly out from under a flowered tablecloth. He walked over to the table, lifted the edge of the cloth. There on the floor was Sirius, snoring lightly, with his head on Severus's arm; Severus had his face buried in Sirius's broad chest. "Well," said Albus. "Good enough to be going on with, indeed." He chuckled and let the tablecloth drop. As he walked back to the other teachers, he thought he heard, faintly: "Fuck you."