A/N – This won't make much sense if you haven't read the prequel, Black, which is somewhere in the list waves hand vaguely

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"Snape?" Black nearly shrieked, while his godson patiently stood before him with his arms folded. He had not come back from the veil for this. Oh, no. Not to have his home invaded by another ghastly Dark creature. Just when he thought the mansion had been thoroughly cleaned, Harry had to insist on Snape's moving in. The bastard would probably grease up the place in a week. At least the doors wouldn't creak so much anymore. But, gods, why keep him safe? Let the Aurors and Death Eaters tear each other up fighting to get at him.

-

"Snape," Black growled as the man in question sneered his way into the manor. The arched eyebrow and sudden smirk proved enough of an answer. The door shut very quietly behind him, and, footsteps muffled, Snape strode into the hall. At the other end, Sirius stared him down. An enchanted luggage bag rumbled behind the ex-professor, and Sirius wondered what lay inside. Body parts, perhaps. Certainly no bathing products. As soon as Snape had pushed past him, Sirius angrily swiped a hand through his own hair, nearly growling with rage at its greasiness. Damnit.

-

"Snape?" Sirius said aloud, padding into the empty kitchen and traveling further to search the parlor. It had been three days since Sirius had seen him – the man had an odd habit of leaving quickly whenever Sirius came within ten feet of him. He eventually found Snape with his overlarge nose stuck in a book in his musty bedroom. Snape's face was relaxed, his hair tied back, a finger softly stroking the edge of a worn book. His eyes moved rapidly across the page, candlelight flickered on his face, and Sirius almost forgot himself until a corner of the page was folded and Snape looked up.

-

Snape, Sirius thought to himself. He felt the heat of humiliation rise in his cheeks once more. Gods, he would never be able to look at the man again. He turned over in his four-poster bed and buried his burning face in the pillow. Why, why did Snape have to come and bloody well rescue him? The man would never let him forget, but hell, he could have dealt with the bloody Spidre on his own, possibly could have gotten his fucking trousers back before Snape had to come poke his nose in Sirius' business. Sirius made a fist in the darkness, and jumped before he realized the resounding crash down the hall wasn't his fault.

-

"Snape?" Sirius mumbled at the panting figure beside him. It gave a soft grunt in response as he wiped beads of perspiration from his forehead.

Silence enveloped the room. Sirius felt movement beside him, and turned his head to find a much-disheveled Snape looking into his mind. He pressed a kiss to the end of the long nose and felt an arm encircle his waist. He let himself be drawn into a tight embrace, his face pressed against a pale shoulder that nearly glowed into the moonlight that seeped into the room.

"Snape."