Snape stepped out of the Floo and handed his cloak to the attractive and near-naked wizard standing obsequiously to one side. Settling his robes carefully around his body, he made his way through the foyer to the bar packed with men of all shapes, sizes and ages. Sweet-smelling dandies rubbed shoulders with ruffians; flustered first-timers stammered next to demure looking men wearing leather collars. He found an empty space at the counter and leaned in.
"What will you have?" the shirtless bartender asked, placing a napkin on the counter.
"Firewhisky," Snape replied, then turned around to observe the competition and the quarry.
The barman placed his drink on the napkin and slid it near his elbow. "That will be 20 Galleons."
Snape smirked and handed over the requested amount. He knew, as did the barman, as did everyone in the room, that the price of alcohol at this establishment was exorbitant. But, like every other man in the room, he knew he wasn't paying for solely for the drink.
He was paying for the pleasure.
The pleasure of being in like-minded company. The pleasure of the chase.
The pleasure of achieving pleasure.
Snape dug into his pocket and pulled out a stoppered vial, which he uncorked. He tipped a small amount of liquid into his glass and downed it immediately. Floo travel tended to weaken already existing magic, even that as strong as the potion Snape had drunk before coming. A man standing next to him looked on in approval; most of the men that frequented this club relied on glamours to disguise their appearance. The fact that someone had the means and knowledge to use Polyjuice spoke of either great wealth or great power.
"Good evening," the young fop said, stepping closer and licking his lips coquettishly. "I haven't seen you around here before."
Snape pushed past him. "You'd never know, would you?"
~~~
Upstairs, the noise of laughter, flattery and music was muted by red velvet walls, which were lined with pictures of men indulging in various sexual acts. Snape ignored the couple kissing passionately up against a wall while a threesome in the painting above provided enthusiastic encouragement.
The corridor was lined with doors, each one painted cream with a gold number discreetly etched in its jamb. Snape passed a number of closed doors that glowed red – the occupants had made their match and were not to be disturbed. Another bank of doors lit up green as he approached. He looked, and the men inside either arched their backs, flexed their muscles or turned away. Snape moved on; even though he had no firm idea of what he wanted in a partner tonight, he knew they weren't it.
He stopped at an open door at the end of the hall. A man in his mid-twenties was fiddling with the towel around his waist, the skin on his back moving hypnotically under the soft lights.
"Oh," the young man said, turning around. "Hello."
Snape's eyes travelled from the top of the shaggy brown head to the tips of the bare toes. "Hello," he said, entering and closing the door behind him.
The young man clutched the towel more securely and jumped up to sit on a bench that was the sole piece of furniture in the room. A wand rested by his side.
"Like what you see?" he asked, fingers carding through the small patch of chest hair that lay between his nipples.
"Yes."
The man grinned and picked up his wand, waving it over his body and muttering under his breath. Snape recognised the fairly strong cleaning spell, cast the same upon himself, and strategically placed his wand on the floor – far enough away that it would not be stolen if someone were to come into the room while he was otherwise occupied, close enough that he could grab it if the man he was with tried something nefarious.
The man didn't look dangerous, merely interested. He nodded then placed his wand on the other side of the room before removing his towel and leaving it in a heap on the floor. Snape looked over his naked body through half-closed eyes.
"What's your name?"
"In this situation, does it matter?" Snape replied.
The man chuckled, and leant against the wall in a deliberately provocative pose. He reached down to his groin and tugged himself more erect. "Well, what do you call yourself?"
Snape moved into the young man's personal space and placed a gentle hand on a well-muscled shoulder. The man sank to his knees without complaint.
Snape brushed back the sweaty bits of hair sticking to the man's forehead. "You haven't told me why it's important."
The man nuzzled Snape's groin. "I like to have something I can remember each time with."
"Have there been many times?" Snape asked, more than a little curious.
"Some. Not many. That's why I like to remember them. Each encounter is unique and perfect of itself," he said with a grin as he pushed up Snape's robes and licked a wet stripe up his cock. "I go by the name of Black."
Snape's fingers tightened around the younger man's nape. Black shivered and leant back into the touch. "Am I going too fast? Would you prefer me on top? I don’t mind. I like it both ways."
"I think I would like very much to fuck you. If you have no objections."
Black's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "And, it should go without saying that I shall be White," Snape added, guiding Black's mouth to his balls.
Black chuckled and went back to licking. Snape closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation. The body he was masquerading in was average; average height, common features, black hair and light eyes, around his age. He'd gone to London and plucked a few hairs from a Muggle who was none the wiser. Some wizards went overboard with disguises; younger, fitter, more attractive than their usual selves but Snape knew that looks weren't the most important factor in a place like this. Attitude and charisma were the way in which men decided their partners, and he had plenty of both.
And luckily for him, Black seemed to realise that.
Black made satisfied noises as he licked. Snape wrapped a hand around his throat and pushed him off. "Enough. Suck me."
Black moaned; short, sharp, from the back of his throat. He leant forward, licking delicately around the head until Snape snarled, then fell forward to cover the shaft in a smooth, wet slide.
Snape swallowed. Black was good. And Snape was ready.
"Stop."
Black pulled away immediately.
"On the bench."
Snape helped him to his feet. Black rose eagerly, dusting off his knees before lying on his back, legs parted, arms resting casually above his head.
Snape ran his hands up Black's shins and between his thighs, watching as the younger man licked his lips and canted his groin.
"You're very attractive," Snape said softly, rubbing his thumbs over Black's stomach.
"Thank you."
Snape returned the grin and tried to peer into the man's mind, but was stopped. Occlusion, and strong at that. He approved.
Snape broke his own rules, asking, "Do you look like this uncharmed?"
Black's head fell back as Snape plucked at his nipples. "Does it matter?"
"No," he said, then, in a manoeuvre so sinuous it seemed like a single continuous movement, grabbed Black's hips, dragged him forward, swooped down and sucked his cock into his mouth.
"Fuck," Black hissed as Snape pulled at him mercilessly. "Yes. Do it like that. Harder."
Snape pulled off with a loud slurp. "I guarantee it will be hard."
Black whimpered as Snape slapped his thigh, turning him over onto his stomach. Allowing Snape to push his knees up and under his body, Black fell forward, resting his forehead on crossed arms. The skin on his back was supple and firm under the low lights. Snape nipped to the side of his spine, sucking until a bruise appeared.
"Fuck me?" Black asked, rocking back and forth on his knees.
Snape placed his finger against Black's eager hole and whispered. The entire area became slick and shiny. Black grunted as Snape inserted two fingers into him, circling and stretching.
"Ready?" Snape asked, withdrawing his fingers, cockhead ready and poised at Black's entrance.
The man pushed himself back in steady thrusts. "Yes," he hissed and mumbled the rest of the words under his breath.
"Yes," Snape agreed and pitched forward, driving into his arse. The lubricant made his hands slippery so he dug his fingers into Black's hips, pulling him back and forth in harsh, satisfying jabs.
"Oh, fuck," Black moaned, getting a hand under his body to stroke himself. "So good. You're so good."
Snape flicked the sweaty hair from his face and saw a flash of light in front of them. Startled, he slowed down, then stopped thrusting as a mirror solidified in mid-air. He saw himself – both his real appearance and his Polyjuiced one tuning in and out like a bad wireless signal – perched above Black's body like a lion over its prey.
"What's wrong?" Black asked, sounding drugged and happy. He raised his head. "You don't like the mirror? I can make it go away."
"No," Snape said hesitantly. "It's fine. Leave it."
Black continued to smile at their reflections. Surely he would react if he could see Snape's features shifting? But his expression was the same; blissed out and horny.
"White? Is something wrong?"
"No," Snape replied. He gave a shallow thrust. Black moved into it. "Nothing at all."
As he continued to fuck, hands braced on Black's shoulders, body moving harder and faster, Snape tried to recall if a mirror had ever appeared out of nowhere during one of his previous encounters in the club. It hadn't, but perhaps Black had paid extra for this new feature? He looked around the room – yes, their wands were still lying against their respective walls.
"I'm close," Black moaned, arm moving furiously under him. "Close."
"Come," Snape demanded, and seconds later joined him.
~~~
Snape was adjusting his robes when Black handed him his wand. It was rude, touching another wizard's wand without permission, but Snape made no comment. Black looked content as he pulled on his clothes. He wore pants that were creased and Muggle in nature and no shirt. He pulled his own set of robes over his body and tucked his wand into a sleeve.
"That was good," Black said, smiling. "Will you look like this next time? I wouldn't mind doing you again in future."
Snape cleared his throat. Discussions after the fact had never been his forte, but there was something niggling at the back of his mind that told him not to let the conversation end. "Perhaps."
"All right." Black shrugged. "Maybe I'll see – "
"Wait," Snape said. "The mirror. Did you see…was it yours?"
A small grin stretched over Black's face. "How could it have been? You saw I didn't have my wand."
"Yes, but – " Snape said, stepping closer. He was on the verge of discovery, he felt it. He lowered his voice. "Wandless."
"Wandless?" Black whispered.
Snape leant closer and Black spoke against his cheek, soft puffs of air making his skin warm.
"Only extremely powerful wizards can do wandless magic. Do I look extremely powerful?"
Snape turned and stared into brown eyes. "There is something about you…"
Black took a step back. "Can I give you a word of advice, White?"
Snape nodded.
"Don't take the Polyjuice next time. I like you fine as you are."
"What - ?"
"Goodbye, Snape," Black said, clicking his fingers. His glamour disappeared and Snape had a split second to recognise Harry Potter's smiling face before the man clicked his fingers again and Disapparated from the room.
