InsaneJournal

  

                Snape's next trip to Diagon Alley was spent being ogled by men young and old. He carefully made his way into a beauty supplies shop. He was seriously considering buying something, despite yelling at the salesgirl to go drown herself in Bubotuber pus, when he saw Lockhart's face on a bottle of hair potion and, yelping and backing away, very slowly, he decided that idiot was not a facet of himself he'd ever enjoy enhancing.

 

                It was just his luck that someone he actually knew should see him exiting the shop, but he was glad it was merely Mundungus.

 

                "Uh . . . hi," said Mundungus quietly. He glanced at the shop, then at Snape, then at the shop again. Severus cleared his throat to regain the man's attention. "Er . . . ."

 

                "Hello," said Snape slowly.

 

                "Yes, uh, hello."

 

                "You said that."

 

                "Uh, well, uh, I . . . uh . . . . Good day," he said suddenly, and ran right into the beauty supplies shop.

 

                Snape stared after him at a moment, at the door he'd left positively swinging, and then merely decided the world had gone mad and made his way to Flourish & Blotts to hopefully not be groped this time.

 

 

 

                When Potter told him his drinking buddy was back at Grimmauld, he had to come, despite being embarrassed about his choice in shops earlier. After all, he owed Mundungus a life debt, and if he was to repay him by drinking liquor from Sirius Black's old stores, who was he to complain?

 

                It took him a while to realize the change. He sniffed. Then he sniffed again. The man no longer smelled like tobacco alone. He also smelled like some sort of cologne. He sniffed again, raising an eyebrow. Mundungus ducked his head and murmured, "I, uh, guess I'm just shallow, then."

 

                Severus stilled for a moment. "You read the article, then?" He hoped things would not get awkward (or, more awkward, rather).

 

                "Wh-what article?" he said, fingertips tapping nervously on the table.

 

                "Oh, nothing," said Snape, glaring at his drinking partner.

 

                They didn't say another thing the entire time.

 

 

 

                "Are those new?" said Snape at their next meeting, glancing at the man's robes.

 

                "Maybe." Dung coughed, looking about, at anything but Snape.

 

                "Impressive."

 

                "Uh, thanks."

 

 

 

                "You are cleanly shaven," said Snape, seeming startled.

 

                "What's it to ya?" said Mundungus, turning away from him slightly.

 

 

 

                "Look. We both know you read the article."

 

                "What article?"

 

                "Oh please."

 

                "Malfoy sent it to me, alright?"

 

                "And so you go against everything I said and become shallow? Why?"

 

                "To impress you, bloody idiot." He took a long, long swig, the alcohol burning as it went down. He glanced at Snape again. "There you have it, then."

 

                "Only took you a couple months to admit it," said Snape.

 

                "That's it? Not going to say anything else?"

 

                "What is there to say? I'm still grateful you saved my life, but, as I told the twits at the magazine, I'm enjoying being single."

 

                "Bullshit. You're just scared. Don't say you aren't. I know a coward when I see one."

 

                "Shut the hell up, or I'll shut it up for you," warned Snape.

 

                "So it's just everyone you don't want, and not just me specifically? Because we can work past that, I think."

 

                "Look—"

 

                "I have women's clothing somewhere, if you like that."

 

                "Mundungus—"

 

                "I like being dominated."

 

                Snape paused. "So what?"

 

                Mundungus sighed, stoppering the bottle. "Well, then," he said a bit roughly, "I'll see you about. Or, or, maybe I won't. Who knows." He hurriedly stood, pausing for a moment to collect himself, turning away, before he began to head for the doorway.

 

                Snape didn't want him to leave, really . . . but what could he possibly say?

               

                "For a professor, you're quite stupid, aren't you?"

 

                "I eat bespectacled freaks like you for dinner, Potter."

 

                "Not in my house, you don't."

 

                Snape sighed and made to leave as well.

 

                "Do you like him?"

 

                "None of your fucking business!" he snapped.

 

                "Do you?"

 

                "I ought to—"

 

                "Do you?"

 

                "Maybe."

 

                "I have his address."

 

                "Good for you."

 

                "Think about visiting him to set things straight," Harry said. Then he moved out of the kitchen doorway and back into the sitting room.

 

                Snape noticed that he'd left a scrap of parchment on the table, and, looking about suspiciously, he slipped it into his pocket.

 

 

 

                "Here to rub it in?" It was the next day, and he looked pretty terrible. His stubble was back, and his ratty, smelly robes were back on, and he smelled like tobacco and alcohol both.

 

                Snape shook his head.

 

                "Then I can't see why you'd possibly be here, Mister Snape."

 

                "Let me enlighten you. Move aside so I may come in, or I may have to dominate you a bit ahead of schedule."

 

                Hazel eyes widened and Mundungus took a step back. "Alright, then."

 

                "I'm here to apologize," said Snape gently. "I don't think you're shallow, and I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

 

                "You completely ripped out my heart bit by bit and laughed as it bled to death," he muttered.

 

                "Don't call me a coward and don't surprise me, then. You did both, may I remind you."

 

                "You're really here to do me? What is it, a pity fuck for poor ol' Mundungus? Look, I don't need you here, Snape. You've done enough emotional damage and whatnot."

 

                "Story of my life. Go and get ready. I'll wait for you."

 

                "Will you come with me?"

 

                Snape paused for a moment, and then nodded in ascent. He followed Mundungus into the bathroom.

 

                They shed their robes hesitantly, turning away from each other, until, both flushing, they started the water and stood under the spray together.

 

                They said nothing, Mundungus standing behind Snape. He summoned the shampoo with a wandless charm, applying it to both his hair and Snape's, who let out a gasp of surprise. He soon relaxed into the touch, though, and they moved on to washing their bodies. This time, Mundungus handed him the soap so he could wash himself, and he was both grateful and slightly disappointed.

 

                They stopped the water and got out, Mundungus telling him to wait a moment as he grabbed them both towels, handing one to Snape and watching as he fastened it about his waist. They moved to the mirror, drawing their wands to shave. They both applied aftershave, and Snape redressed in his own robes, while Mundungus went on to the bedroom to get changed into a pair of his new, handsomer robes.

 

                "I'm all ready," said Mundungus hesitantly.

 

                "You look very nice," Snape said.

 

                "But I'm not shallow, right? Just taking care of myself more."

 

                "No, not shallow," he said. He followed Mundungus to the bedroom to find fragrant candles hovering in the air. The scent was soothing.

 

                Mundungus stood there shyly for a moment.

 

                "You know what I think would be wise?" said Snape after a moment.

 

                "What?"

 

                "If you were to check if you properly removed all the poison." Snape unhooked the neck of his robes, then continued unbuttoning and unbuttoning. Mundungus was glad they'd dressed again, because the image of Snape baring himself for him was rather alluring.

 

                "Did you like it, when I did it?" he asked softly, nearing the man. He stood as straight as he could, raising his head up a bit to reach. Snape wasn't as tall as, say, Sirius or Kingsley or Albus, but he wasn't as short as Dung himself either. His tongue flickered out and he obediently licked and sucked at the skin of Snape's pretty, pale neck.

 

                "That's it," purred Snape, grasping Mundungus's shoulders softly. "Wonderful. However . . . I still feel the poison at work." He moaned softly. "Can you think of other things to suck?"

 

                Mundungus paused, grinning against the man's neck. He pulled back, looking up at him with a smile. "Oh, maybe one or two things. Or three." He parted the man's shirt, leaning in to flick his tongue across one of the nipples, then pulling it right into his mouth to suck at it quite earnestly, nibbling a bit. He felt Snape tremble almost imperceptibly as he kept at it, suction relentless. He moved on to the second one after a moment.

 

                As he sucked at the second nipple, he waved his wand to help him unbutton the rest of Snape's robes, tugging them off his shoulders to fall harmlessly on the floor. He gave it a little bite as he pushed Snape's pants off his hips. He pulled his mouth away as the pants too fell. Neither of them had bothered with shoes or even socks. "May I . . . ?" He trailed off, glancing down toward Snape's prick.

 

                Snape nodded, but grasped one of his wrists, dragging him toward his own bed. Snape sat on the edge of it, spreading his legs, and Mundungus got on the ground to kneel in between them, staring straight at the prick, licking his lips involuntarily.

 

                "Save my life," hissed Snape. "Protect me." He gave a small thrust of his hips, but Mundungus had needed no further enticement to lean in, grasping the shaft delicately in one hand, and lick at the head of the prick. He moaned at the taste, and the sensation made Snape groan softly. Playing his fingertips gently at the base of the prick, he leaned in a bit more, taking the head into his mouth.

 

                He lapped at the tip still, as if the man's prick were the most divine treat he'd ever tasted. He moaned softly again, pulling the prick farther into his mouth. He took in as much as he could, and then began to suck. I'll save you, Severus, he thought. A thin, strong hand weaved itself into his hair, guiding him a bit as he began to pull back off of him, and then take him into his mouth again, slow and gentle and affectionate, but still very enticing.

 

                "That's enough," murmured Snape after Mundungus had felt him become dangerously close to the edge. "Stand and take off your clothing, Mundungus." Dung was painfully hard and groaned not only at the fact that his first name was being spoken by such a fabulous creature, who he cared a lot about at this point, but also because of the way it was said. Snape's voice was so smooth and commanding, like wrist ties of black silk.

 

                He complied a bit hurriedly, soon standing naked before the bed, letting Snape run an eye over him. "Not much to look at," grinned Mundungus, but he didn't seem very embarrassed. He smiled when Snape coaxed him back onto the bed with a gesture.

 

                "Thank you, sir," whispered Snape, "You saved my life. Again. Sucked all of the poison out of me, didn't you?" he breathed.

 

                "Yes," he sighed, "Yes, I did."

 

                "Get on your back, brave sir," said Snape darkly, "And I'll thank you the only way I know how."

 

                "And how's that?" he said, barely daring to breathe, making his way to the top of the bed to lay down on his back.

 

                "You shall see." He ran a finger gently over Mundungus's hole, teasing it for a moment before he brought his wand into play. He cast a spell that left him slick and another that stretched him. Perhaps another time he would stretch him finger by finger, allowing him to feel the slight burn, but for now they were both much too close.

 

                Snape pushed into him, and they both groaned until he was sheathed inside all the way. "Y-you're welcome," Mundungus moaned, shakily reaching up to play with the ends of some of Snape's hair.

 

                "Shh," said Snape, and he waited for another moment before beginning to thrust into him. He was gentle, but it also had a sort of roughness about it that Mundungus had a feeling he could begin to crave. It was beautiful, but they had been much too close, and all-too-soon they were both coming, at nearly the same time. They panted and trembled in the afterglow, after calling each other's names as they released.

 

                Snape sat up after a bit, finally pulling out. "My, my, my. Mundungus Fletcher, I do not find you shallow." He traced the circumference of the well-used hole. "No, I find you very deep indeed. Not to mention tight. And warm."

 

                Mundungus grinned up at him. "Not so bad yourself, Severus."

 

                "Yes, thank you, but I heard you moaning. You don't need to say it."

 

                "Bastard," he grinned. "Come here and have some cuddly time with ol' Mundungus, Sev'rus," he said, opening his arms in welcome. Snape did just that.

 

 

 

                Dear Philia Lovehart,

 

                I suppose it would be prudent, at this point, to thank you. I now have 'someone special' in my life, thanks to your publication's silly drivel.

 

                I still say bugger off,

 

                Severus Snape