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Disclaimer:
The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.

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Draped over the butter-soft leather of a vaulting horse—modified for safety, of course—the lean brunet breathed slowly through his nose. He wanted this, wanted to give over control. His partner, as they had no true ‘Master and Slave’ dynamic, had drawn the Joker card of their scenario deck and he had no idea what would happen but that he would come out the other side of it purged of his demons for one more day.

The other brunet, elegant in his own way and full of wicked intent, stood in the shadows, watching with admiration. He’d learned patience the hard way, at the hands of demons dressed as men, in darkness that had no redeeming light within it. But, with his partner, his soul, he made his own flame to burn it way. For years they’d fought against each other, ripping pieces from the other’s psyche with fists and wands. Then, life played a trick upon them both, throwing them together until they couldn’t avoid the poison of their shared past anymore. Death has a way of clarifying things, especially if one is lucky enough to deny its hold.

He stepped out the darkness, directly behind the bound male. “Hmm…All ready for me?” He knew the answer, but it was ritual by now. It was a sight he enjoyed no matter the situation, but, here, in their safe room, it was tantamount to water in the desert as it drew him ever closer. “Your exercises are paying dividends, love. You are in control, as always.” He skimmed his fingertips over the taut muscles, rubbing here at a persistent knot, massaging there at a ridge of scarred flesh.

“I will never tire of you like this. You know that, don’t you?” The touch of cool leather replaced the heat of digits. Shivers of pleasure that the trussed man couldn’t contain rippled throughout his body. “Ah-ah-ah…you still don’t have that impulse under control, do you?” The slap of a leather-clad hand on a rounded buttock was underscored by a sudden inhalation. Then, slick fingers tugged on the leather straps of a custom cockring.

“Tonight’s special, isn’t, lover? That ingenious deck we created all those years ago finally spat out a card we’ve never used.” The other buttock was slapped, then soothed. For ten minutes, the slaps alternated from firm buttock to firm buttock. A dribble of oil was splashed on the rosy skin eliciting a drawn-out sigh from the both of them. This was as much a part of them as of their rites, and each time they touched or were touched with such care more and more of the darkness burned away from their hearts. “Ready for more?” At the slight nod, he lovingly began the spanking again.

Forty minutes had passed, neither man willing for it to end. Stepping back, the master of the night, Sirius Black, surveyed his handiwork. It wasn’t every month that he got to plant rosy handprints on his lover’s ass and thighs. Pulling off his single glove with strong white teeth, he lay across Severus Snape’s long, lean back and shoved the glove under that awesome proboscis. The scent of sweat was an additional turn-on that he took advantage of whenever possible. Severus breathed deep, trying to even sneak a lick, before the glove was taken away.

“Tell me how this feels, Severus,” he purred, loving the way the man beneath bucked and wriggled. “Your warm arse against my chilled stomach…the way my cock is nudging your ribs…” he thrust lightly, “…or is it my cool fingers in the crack of that luscious, edible arse that is bringing you pleasure?” He moved across the expanse of skin, teasing, testing, tasting. He literally purred as he licked the top of Severus’ crack, inhaling the musk as his tongue delved deep.

“I may speak?” The smooth-as-twelve-year-old-single-malt-scotch that was the former Hogwarts professor’s voice was barely a whisper. As he felt Sirius’ nod against his hips, he continued. “I am…comfortable…here. But, I want…” Black bit his thigh setting off a string of pleas for more. It took minutes to sooth him back to coherence.

“Please…tell me what I will receive tonight?” Begging would never come easy to Snape, but underneath Black’s hands he’d do that and more to reach his peace. “I would like to sing for you.”

Sliding his face down, pushing his nose closer and closer to that unfurled quoit he so enjoyed, Sirius plunged his tongue strongly into it. Tongue-fucking was a treat, a reward, and to have Severus say he wanted to sing…yes, he’d earned something special. His cock was so hard here with his face between those strong globes that he was glad he’d had the foresight to wear a cockring.

Jaws aching, tongue pleasantly sore, the former Gryffindor leaned back on his haunches. He’d felt the quivering of his lover’s body as he fought not to respond to the treat. Best to tell him what his action would be tonight; the man was stretched thin on the edge of release. He flicked Severus’ cockring straps once more before moving away.

Crawling so that he was below Severus’ head, he turned over and lay on the floor. “You want to sing for me, eh?” Arms behind his head, he looked nonchalant—if one overlooked the sheen of sweat on his upper lip. “We’ve never done this one, but, I believe you can handle it.” He pulled his wand from under the vaulting horse and conjured the card for Severus to see. “For a great many years I thought you couldn’t laugh. Loving you, I’ve seen you smile, grin, and even surprised a guffaw out of you. This will be a night of tickling, something fitting for the fact you tickle my fancy all the time.” The blush that rose in those aristocratic cheeks warmed Snape’s heart, hardened his penis even further, and got him panting.

Grey eyes widening in delight, Sirius grinned in anticipation. “Are you…panting…for this?” Leaning up on his forearms, the reclining brunet got closer to the puffs of air. He watched as Severus’ eyelids fluttered and closed, dark eyelashes fanning like faint shadows beneath those fathomless black eyes. Grinning, he said, “You are, aren’t you? Tell me where I can tickle you, or better yet, where I cannot. Tonight I want you to laugh, to let your demons writhe and shrink with each release.” Each action had a ritual phrase to describe it; Black had studied their lifestyle like nothing before in order to honor Severus’ choice.

“You control this…control it all. Tell me when you’re ready.” He rolled out of sight, off to the side. The scuff of a boot on stone gave away the instant he stood up. Curling even more, spread out almost like a living blanket, Severus thought on what his partner had said.

Swallowing, the former Death Eater gave himself over to Sirius Black. He closed his eyes as he spoke softly, “Do not…do not touch my armpits. All the rest of me is fair game. Make me laugh…please?”

Beginning at the soles of those lean, finely-boned feet, Sirius flicked a peacock’s feather up and down. He followed that with broad swipes of his tongue, then he flicked his fingers across the sensitized skin. He was answered by small tremors, but not the laughter he wanted.

Pressing a kiss to each arch, Sirius asked, “Where should I go next, Severus? Where is that magic button that releases your laughter?” He crouched down to suckle and fondle the first one of the little toes that curled under and then the other. A startled sound greeted that, but, still no outright glee. Still, the taste of any part of Severus’ body was addictive, and he lavished due worship on all ten toes.

“Still no laughter for me, love?” Trailing a fine-haired paintbrush up the backs of legs that went for forever, Black painted honey dust over sensitive skin. Once he was done, he mouthed the dust off, working his fingers along Snape’s ribcage. A choked laugh, hastily swallowed, and stiffening muscles showed he was on the right path. Long, pleasurable minutes licking and tickling slowly had Severus’ hips rubbing against the horse as he rose up on his tiptoes seeking some kind of release.

“Nuh uh, Snape.” A firm slap on the rump stopped the bound man’s motion. “You will laugh tonight, for me, for yourself. Only after that will I consider letting you spill your jism.” He never ceased tickling, watching for the moment when Snape would finally let loose. His left hand crab-walked along his lover’s spine until his digits were wriggling up and down the crack of his ass. Suddenly, the former spy, tortured by Death Eaters and Aurors alike burst out laughing, giggling and writhing, gasping for air as the sound reverberated throughout his body from scalp to toes.

Sirius varied the pressure but not the motion, playing Severus until the man begged to stop, finally giving their safe word. Passing his hand over each inch of skin to rub in soothing oils from a pot nearby, the grey-eyed male relished the sounds that were echoing in his ears. All too often his lover was the one being laughed at. Now he would know what a cleansing thing laughter could be when paired with safety. Pressing open-mouthed kissed on those strong shoulders, he knew they’d have to do this again.

He Accio’d his wand and released the spells that held Severus down. Flicking it in a complex pattern, he moved his lover to a chaise magically enlarged for their pleasure. In midair, he rolled Severus to his side and laid him down on the crushed red velvet. “I see that imposing cock of yours is still begging for my touch, Severus. Your laughter was bright, love, brighter than you imagined, I’ll wager.” He arranged himself close, but, not touching.

“Do you see how hard I am for you? How purple and blue I am? You did that with your joy.” He put Severus’ left hand on his cock and shuddered. “The muscles in your back bunched and rippled under my hands, reminding of your strength. Let your hand show me how much power you have under that silky skin.” The hand on his cock pulsed up and down the length, curling Sirius’ toes and raising the hair all over his body. He put the small flat-bottomed pot of oil between them.

Casting his dark eyes down to see the purple head of his lover’s organ, Severus acquiesced with pleasure. Sirius’ eyes rolled back in his head at the pulling slide of skin on hot, hard cock. “Guh…yeah, yeah…power is sexy, so sexy…thrums all through you…” Every time those long fingers wrapped around him, he became a blithering sixteen-year-old. “Gods, I love your hand.” He struggled—as usual—to bring things back to where they belonged. “Tell me…where you want me to…to touch you.” His own hands were shaking with want.

Even in the midst of giving up control, Severus found himself in charge of the situation. Black was just that good! He pushed his prick, leaking and engorged, into those tattooed fingers, even as his hand pulled the sweet sounds of moans and gurgled directions from the other’s mouth. “I want to make you sing with me. I want to reduce you to your essence and breathe you in. I want to crawl under your skin and show you just what your touch does to me.” He rolled closer, trapping their hands and cocks between bucking hips. He leaned closer as he whispered into that shell of an ear, “I want to swallow you until I feel you in my blood. I want to take you, keep you, love you. I want to fuck you boneless.” The purr of his voice—darkness with the barest hint of whiskey-lightness—brought Sirius to his figurative knees.

Grabbing his wand to set the cockrings to release within ten minutes, Black tossed it over his shoulder and pressed his body into Severus’. Suddenly their hands and arms where grabbing and holding onto anything they could touch. Sirius bent his head and nipped at that elegant collarbone, tongue-fucking the divot at the base of his lover’s neck. His reward was fingers flirting with his perineum, pushing gently even as they slid away to fondle his aching balls.

“Make me sing…please?” Severus knew to a second when the cockrings would release. “Stick your fingers in me…I want to ride your fingers…so much,” he gasped.

Not one to ignore such pretty pleading, Sirius complied. He levered his body to make it happen. Three fingers worked their way into that luscious clamping heat, reaching and delving for the awaiting hidden treasure. Smirking to himself, a fourth finger was added, making Severus moan and writhe as he continued pulling on Black’s cock. Finally, before the ninth minute passed, Sirius had his entire hand curled inside his lover.

“Oh gods…oh gods…so good…sooo…,” cried Severus. He bucked and drove himself up and down the fist inside him. His muscles clenched and he saw stars before his closed eyes as the snick of the cockring exploding off his spewing dick made him scream. His grasping hand had literally pulled the creamy come from Sirius in the same instance. Neither man was coherent for several minutes.

Coming down from his sexual high, Severus attempted to get off Sirius’ arm, but to no avail. Bending and twisting to kiss Black’s slack lips, he had to shake the man back to consciousness. “Whilst I love being connected to you in such an intimate manner, could you do something about your hand?” he snarked tiredly.

Twisting and pulling ever-so-gently, Sirius removed his hand from its favorite confinement. He motioned for his wand wordlessly; the enchanted wood flew to his hand in seconds. Muttering an indistinct spell, he cleaned them both and the chaise. Then, he flopped back with a sigh, cuddling Severus’ head under his chin. “Love you, Snape.”

Eyes closed, so near to surrendering to sleep, Severus chuckled. “Love you, Black.” He draped himself over his lover’s body, secure in the knowledge that he was safe once again.

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