Disclaimer: All characters from the Harry Potter universe belong to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic Inc., AOL/Time Warner and associated companies. No offence, legal or otherwise, is intended by the online publication of this story. Neither is profit. Make love, not lawsuits!

Notes: Written for Marks, who asked for James/Sirius and a Snitch.

 

Snitch
by switchknife

 

'You know you want it.'

Sirius turned his face aside, panting; James' hand was so slow on his cock, hot, bare, delicious. 'James...'

'Say you want it.'

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut so that he wouldn't have to look--James on his knees, one hand clutching the still-fluttering Snitch, the other fastened around Sirius' cock, tugging gently. The scent of sweat and Quidditch leather-guards filled the air of the locker room, thick and suffocating. James had won, after all, and the victor got whatever they wanted... Never mind that he couldn't have thought James would demand this, that James would shove his tongue into Sirius' mouth and fist Sirius' prick until they were both hard, panting.

'Say you want it, and I'll give it to you, Sirius.' Hot breath against the damp head of his penis, taunting.

Later, Sirius tried not to remember when he broke, how he broke. If he begged yesJamespleaseIwantitIwantit, if he begged even when James fucked him over the bench, if he begged even when it hurt, even when James soothed him afterwards and said 'Shh, it's all right, why didn't you tell me it was your first time, Sirius?'; if he begged James to stay when James left with Lily later, off to a date at the Three Broomsticks from which they didn't return until the next morning.

No, Sirius didn't remember.

But it made something twist viciously inside him when he caught Snape one day, on his knees in front of Malfoy, sucking him off with a look identical to the one Sirius had had with James the other night--and he took pleasure in hooting and calling out the next day, watching Snape's face burn with wrath: 'Here goes Malfoy's lap-dog!' Then Snape had hissed, as he passed: 'But you're Potter's lap-dog too, aren't you?' And Sirius had gone back up to his dorm to take a shower, sitting on the hard, tiled floor until the water ran cold, until his prick stayed soft no matter how much he remembered what James had done to him.

The not-memory of it forced him to go and see James and Lily, two years later--and Lily opened the door with her breasts soft and large beneath her nightgown and her belly soft and large under them--James' child James' child James' child--and Sirius said, when he saw James standing behind her with his arms curling gently around her waist: 'I can't keep the Fidelius for you, James. I'm sorry.'

It made him never look back, even though James' eyes flashed with shock behind his spectacles--it made him push Remus away when Remus tried to touch him, after a night at the Leaky Cauldron, because the touch of another man's fingers still made him sick.

 

* FIN *

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