Sirius curled his lips around his cig, in an irony of smiles and moues. Sardonic drag. Pause until heady spin. Exhale fast, with a soft whoosh of tarry lungs. Watch smoke pool and gather and dissipate. Ten deep breaths of humid night air to calm the dizziness. Sardonic drag.

Sirius sank to his haunches and looked upwards. Orion caught him, drew him in. The dog star flickered at him, cool and impassive. The light was old and malevolent, having survived space and eternal night, burnt through atmosphere, packets of stepped energy, to be swallowed by his pupils, burning darker than the sky above him.

'Fuck you,' Sirius whispered, and took another drag.

'Talking to yourself again?'

He knew the voice – of course. But he couldn't see from where it came. Whence it came? He shrugged it off, leaning back against the stone wall, balanced still above his feet. Crouched, but ready to spring. He took another long drag, and tasted the cloying sweetness of the filter. He flicked the burning ember of charred nicotine away, across dewy grass and damp flagstones. He sank a little, pushing his feet out in front of him, to rummage in his pocket for the tobacco.

Snape emerged from the dark lawn to stand in the fringes of the light cast from the bright window high above them. His distinctive smirk twisted and ran across his features.

'Good evening, Snivellus,' Sirius growled.

Snape walked along the edges of light, watching it play over his boots, to lean against the wall a couple metres from Sirius. There was a sinuous edge to Snape's gait, despite the self-deprecating hunch of his shoulders – a power, a drama to him.

He looked up as Sirius pushed the tobacco over the paper with calloused thumbs and thoughtfully brought the edges together, rolling up, down, up, down until the fag was a well-proportioned cylinder.

'What brings you out on this fine night?' Snape enquired, trying – and failing – to keep the threat out of his voice.

Sirius ignored him, patting down another pocket to find a battered zippo. It took three grind and pushes to get a feeble flame, which he hunched over, rollie between pursed lips, and puffed in. The tip glittered like a hot coal and he grinned triumphantly around the successfully lit fag. It gleamed, a red eye in the gathering dark.

Snape waited whilst Sirius blew smoke rings, pocketing his cheeks exaggeratedly and huffing out his smoke laced breath in carefully proportioned amounts.

Finally Sirius paused, leaving his cig in the corner of his mouth, and looked across at Snape to answer.

'You know that Nott girl? Ravenclaw? I fucked her in a History of Magic classroom. I like to smoke after.'

Snape's eyebrows arched in amusement as he slid down the wall to sit. 'Any good?'

'Terrible,' and he took another deep drag, gazing up mockingly. 'I ate her out, just because she was nervous.'

Snape just waited, his sneer broadening.

'I'm good at that, you know, the whole thing – making girls feel like I want them. I make the bloody thing exciting – they're nervous so I kiss them against the walls, then I'll sit back and just look at them, and then they'll squirm and squirm and I'll tell them how fucking perfect they look and what I want to do to them, drawling and my voice all raspy like some wanker. They're always so hot for me, and,' a purr came into his voice, 'I'll strip them and lick them. When Nott came, she almost screamed, so I covered her mouth and she just panted against my fingers. The look she got – fuck, it was terrifying. Like some conversion to a religion of the animal. I could feel her lips and clammy breath against my, my shiny fingers, and my dick pressing hard into the edge of the desk, and her thighs, shaking slightly and so white. She wanted me, so I fucked her from behind, across the desk, and she came again. I kissed her gallantly on the stomach, and then I got the hell out of there.' Sirius took another long, long drag, and held it for too long, watching Orion spin.

'I must confess how much I enjoyed all that unnecessary detail,' Snape laughed.

Sirius glanced at him, taken aback by the laugh, and looked back at his fag. 'I take it you're not here after a weekend shag.' It wasn't a question.

'As much fun as the Slytherin girls are, they have not yet stopped being stone-cold bitches. So perhaps not.'

'What about Lily?'

Snape hissed slightly, 'She likes to protect me.' The disdain dripped over his words. 'I'm not oedipal enough to enjoy the idea of –.' He looked away.

'You mean you're too proud to like her anymore. Because her love for you humiliates you.'

Snape bunched his shoulders, as though about to leap up and curse him to kingdom come. He sagged down just as quickly.

'Can I beg a cig?'

Sirius looked up, shocked. 'Aren't you a prefect?' he asked, deadpan.

'Fuck off. Please.'

Sirius grinned and leant across the grass separating them. 'Have this one for now,' he passed over the half burnt rollie in his mouth, 'and I'll roll you another.'

He took it, fumbling at Sirius' fingers, and took a drag. 'I think you gave me the perfect cigarette.' He took another. 'Fuck.'

'They're all like that, when I'm rolling.' Sirius chuckled cockily, 'But yes, that one was exceptional. Enjoy responsibly.'

'Fuck. Didn't realise how much I missed these.'

'Come on. I imagine all the Slytherins lounging around in a wood panelled room, enjoying a Cuban cigar before Potions. Parkinson definitely has a mandy stash – he reeks after Quidditch practise.'

'Seriously?' Snape processed, a wry smile twisting. 'I should steal that.'

'Well, sheeit. Five minutes with me and you've adopted the marauder mentality. If you do – and if, mind, I'm not condoning theft, of course not – I dibs some.'

Snape nodded seriously, as though agreeing a business deal. Sirius reached over a hand, and they shook, grinning.

'So this Nott girl – how did that happen?'

'Fuck knows. Girls are fantastic beasts, no doubt about that. One moment she's dragged me behind a suit of armour and letting me feel her up, and the next she's slipping me notes to meet her at 6.30. Sharp.' He shook his head, rummaging in his pockets. 'One before that was my Potions partner – friendly banter turned into footsie turned into blowjob in the library. The blonde one I used to jog with sometimes, and I liked to watch her ass when we ran, and then we're fucking in the shower.' He passed over another precision rolled fag and the zippo.

'Jesus,' Snape laughed, 'and you make it sound like a chore. You're the most fucking depressing person I know.' The lighter clicked and coughed into flame.

'Coming from you, that's saying something. Shit.' Sirius caught the lighter when Snape under-handed it back to him, and set about rolling another.

'At least you're getting off.'

'There is that. Probably go mad without the occasional screw. Maybe that explains your predicament.' Click, click went the old zippo.

'Fuck off.'

'You are into it, right? The carnal longing, etcetera. Might be asexual, you know,' Sirius squinted, and blew smoke in Snape's direction.

His reply was a dark laugh, 'If only.'

'So if not Evans, who've you got your eye on? Plenty of birds a-fluttering around.'

'Birds that like Quidditch playing, mischievous Gryffindors to fool around with,' Snape grumbled.

Sirius guffawed. 'Did you call me mischievous? Fuck you. My marauding is not endearing. It is rapine of the system. And you forgot debonair and well-muscled. Never mind my gorgeous hair.'

'Regardless of the number of your earthly charms, Black, I sadly lack – well, any. Beyond a well honed mind,' he arched his eyebrows again and then coughed over his cigarette.

Sirius guffawed again. 'That was almost come-hither! I beg to differ, oh Snivellus!' He pulled on his cigarette. 'What your earthly charms are exactly, I couldn't rightly say, but they're sure to coalesce into something tangible at some point. Just wait for puberty.' He reached over and patted Snape's leg, laughing louder at the look on his face.

'Fuck off,' Snape shoved him back. Sirius rocked for a second, and fell over in the other direction. He lay there. Snape watched him, carefully, finishing his cig meticulously. He flicked the butt at Sirius. Sirius leaped at him. He knelt before Snape, almost wild-eyed, too close for comfort or even drawing breath, a wicked smile playing across his face.

'Or perhaps it's not girls you're after.' His mouth quirked and eyebrows drew together. Snape felt a collective sigh lay in the air, and his chest convulsed. For a second, everything was fluid. His heart beat, sending a rush of heavy iron bloody through to his fingertips, lips, dick, and for every tremor of capillaries under skin, he swore he could feel the tickle of sensation mirrored in Sirius. He exhaled, Sirius inhaled. They were twisted together in time. Sirius leant forward, hair falling curtain-like over his eyes and nipped Snape's lip with sharp, pearlescent teeth. Snape swore under his breath (difficult when your lip is in the bite of a boy) and decided he was damned regardless. He twisted his fingers in the curtain of hair, feeling rather than seeing the pull back of lips than accompanied Sirius' wince.

Sirius grabbed the shoulders of Snape's jumper, crushing their faces together. He released Snape's lip, and then instead of teeth were tongues, and the taste of cigarettes. This was less a kiss then an unintelligible question and its equally unintelligible answer. Snape had one shoulder pressed against the wall, and Sirius rocked on his heels. There was a weight to the sensation that came with nicotine and dew stained grass. Sirius pulled back, and Snape sucked in breath, covering it with a laugh. He saw Sirius' eyes, intent under the shadow of his lashes and brow, and then the boy bent to kiss his neck, plucking at his jumper to reveal delicate collarbones to be laved with tongue and marked with teeth. Snape just held on to the fistfuls of hair under his hands, like some astonishing lifeline, until Sirius bit him, hard, in the hollow of his neck. He jerked Sirius' head up, painfully, he hoped, and kissed him again for his troubles, from the corner of his mouth to greedy open mouths. They banged teeth, a strange sound that rattled in Snape's mouth. He scraped Sirius' tongue, shocked by his moan that rose unbidden. He felt a pressure on his stomach and then groin, and pulled back, astonished to see Sirius palming at his dick, insistent and firm and oh-so-tempting. A moment of decision hung in the air.

Snape lay back, away from Sirius, hair mussed by the grass, and closed his eyes. 'Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm not after girls. But what's your explanation?'

He heard a low chuckle, 'Fuck knows. Horny teenager?' Renewed pressure on his jean zipper. 'Can I suck you off?'

Snape opened his eyes, trying to catch the dog star winking at him. The constellations above remained as silently judgemental as ever, and his circulation as persistent as always. He shrugged against the grass. 'Be my guest.'

Another deep laugh, and the pull of zipper teeth over cotton. He lifted his hips as Sirius tugged down, and then warmth sunk down over him. He couldn't resist looking down and saw Sirius' black hair fall against his stomach, trailing up and down below his navel. Sirius pulled off, shaking his hair back, and grinned up at Snape. Helpless, skewered by the moment, he grinned back, and then caught a moan as Sirius dipped back down over him. A hand caught Snape's entrails, twisting his organs around in excruciating ecstasy. The pressure built in sloppy strokes of tongue and soft palate. His stomach muscles clenched and wove and knotted, and he dug his fingers into earth instead of grabbing Sirius' hair again.

'Fuck,' he muttered, 'I'm gonna come.' Louder, stifling a groan, 'Fuck, Sirius, I'm gonna come.' He almost wept at the cliché of it. Motion paused for a second, and the strange sensation of a laugh and bobbing adam's apple against his cock. Then heat again, building red behind his eyes and hard exultation behind his navel. The hand clenched hard, twice, and he shook slightly. Eyes closed, but he still saw Orion burnt against his eyelids. Mouth and tongue pulled off. Cold air danced on his naked thighs and damp dick, and he shivered in the after glow of orgasm and pulled up his jeans, zipping awkwardly at the strain of pulling his hips up. He looked down, reluctantly, and saw Sirius rock up off his knees, spit to his left and sprawl back into the light. He held eye contact as Sirius wiped his swollen lips. The haze of pleasure fled. He gulped.

Sirius knelt in front of him again, and Snape almost flinched.

'Well, that was fun,' Sirius yawned and then smirked, reaching down to palm his jeans. 'Any chance of returning the favour? That made me as hard as fuck.'

The dawning comprehension must have showed on Snape's face, because Sirius laughed and leant down to kiss him bruisingly hard.

'Maybe some other time then. Night, Snivellus.' And he pulled up, striding off out of the patch of light, all sex and sinew. Snape ran a slightly shaking hand through his hair.

'Well, fuck.'