Tattoo stories
When Severus regained consciousness, it was difficult at first to understand exactly how he felt. Where was he, who was he, why did his body hurt so much? He must have stayed with his eyes closed for several minutes, trying to calm himself and collect his memories. He had helped Arthur Weasley out of his predicament with the Polyjuice Potion. He'd had a few problems stunning the Healer and hiding him in time, but in the end everything had gone relatively smoothly. Arthur Weasley's life was no longer in danger. He had found an antidote to Voldemort's snake. Then, just as he was about to slip discreetly out of the hospital, someone had come to meet him. Who was it? He knew him. Him or her? Severus felt his heart quicken, he couldn't remember the person's face, but it was someone he trusted. What had happened next? Feeling a knot in his stomach, Severus realised he had lost his memory again.
His body ached and stiffened, but at the same time a warmth enveloped him. He tried to move and realised how weak he was. Panic gripped him and he suddenly opened his eyes. He was in semi-darkness, a faint white light filtering in from a high window. Severus immediately recognised the decor of the room he was in. Then he realised that the heat was coming from another body, preventing him from moving. Severus knew whose arms were around him and whose torso was pressed against his back before he even turned his head. Moving slightly, he found himself face to face with the hair of Sirius Black, who was fast asleep, his head resting on the same pillow as his own, his brown curls partially covering his face.
Severus felt his heart skip a beat. How was that possible? Was he hallucinating? His foggy brain refused to find any logic in the situation. Fearing that he had forgotten something important that had happened with Sirius, Severus felt a bitter taste rise in his mouth. Why was Sirius shirtless? And he with his clothes on? They couldn't... no, they couldn't. A blush burned his cheeks at the thought, and spread further as the Slytherin realised that for the first time in his life, he'd woken up in someone's arms. In someone's arms. Sirius Black's arms. He thought secretly of his teenage self if he had been assured that such a thing would happen. Suddenly, Severus was overcome with sadness. He had long since given up on the idea of sharing someone's bed. No longer thought about it. Didn't want it as much as he had wanted it. And yet, he had to admit, it was comfortable. He tried to move so that he could press against Sirius and feel their contact rekindle.
What was he going to tell him when he woke up? Horrified, Severus realised that his own body was taking the initiative and as his mind tried to make sense of it all, his desire was taking on a life of its own. Still blushing, this time Severus tried to pull away from Sirius, maybe even out of his arms, and...
“Severus?”, came a sleepy voice from behind him.
The Slytherin froze. He wasn't ready.
“What the hell are you doing in my bed, Black?”
He felt Sirius's body pull away from him immediately and instantly regretted the loss of warmth.
“Sorry,” he said, “I... I didn't mean to. But you were cold and shivering and the magic wasn't helping. I just lay against you. Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, I just didn't know what else to do.”
Severus did not respond immediately. Still refusing to look at Black, he felt his desire diminish.
“What am I doing here? Why was I cold?”, he forced himself to ask.
He felt terribly vulnerable and it was a feeling he hated.
“Dumbledore brought you here last night. He told me he found you unconscious at St Mungo's when he went to see Arthur. I know nothing else. And last night you... I think it was like last time. You know, in August. It was as if you were fighting some invisible force.”
Severus felt his stomach tighten with every word Sirius spoke. There was no trace of desire left in him.
“Did anyone... hear me? Did anyone know?”, he asked in a tone that hid his sense of humiliation.
“No, it was just me.”
The Slytherin didn't answer. He felt tainted, as if someone had used him like a puppet.
“I'm sorry I called you a coward,” Sirius' voice said behind his back. “I didn't mean it, I was angry, hurt. I hope you can forgive me.”
Severus couldn't understand how the Gryffindor could talk about his feelings so easily. He was incapable of it. In fact, he didn't know what he would have said to express his feelings, even if he had been threatened. All he knew was that he was a mess.
“I'll go if you want, I'll leave you alone. No one knows you're here, you can decide what to tell the others. Dumbledore wants you to stay, he's coming in a few days. I'll... come and see you later, okay?”
Severus didn't know what to say. But he didn't want Sirius to leave. He was still facing the wall, but he had been leaning on his elbow during the conversation. He wanted Sirius to understand so badly that he wanted to feel his chest against him again and his arms around his shoulders.
“Look at me, Severus,” Sirius' voice came softly from behind him.
It was an almost pleading request. Severus reluctantly felt his body turn in the bed and with great effort sat up. Still staring at the mattress without looking up, he saw that Sirius was sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Severus,” he repeated.
The Potions Master took a deep breath and looked up. He could feel his dirty hair sticking to his face and he was suddenly terribly ashamed to show himself to Black like that. The man was so handsome that it almost took his breath away. He forced himself to meet his gaze, not his chest, and Severus gave him a defiant look.
“That's better,” Sirius said with a small smile. “Are you sulking?”
“No,” Severus growled.
“Very convincing,” the Gryffindor sneered.
Severus couldn't help but notice the tattoos on Sirius's chest.
“What are they?" he asked, nodding towards the other man's chest.
“Muscles,” Sirius replied cheerfully.
Severus stifled another grunt.
“I'm talking about your little drawings, Black.”
“Of course,” he laughed. “I had them done right after Hogwarts.”
“I didn't ask you when, I asked you what.”
“Didn't you do Ancient Runes?” Sirius asked.
“Yes,” muttered Severus, “but as far as I can see, they're alchemical symbols, not runes. And even if I know what they mean, I'm more interested in the personal meaning you give them.”
He felt himself blush again and looked away, at a spot next to Black.
“Oh,” said a surprised Sirius. “Well, this big sign is the first one I've made,” he said, pointing to a sort of alchemical cross on his chest that Severus had already identified. “It's the fusion of man and dog, for Padfoot. And this - he pointed to a sort of Celtic cross on his right pectoral - it's the sign for steel, in the Celtic language. Muggles are crazy about it, and I thought it was a cool symbol at the time to describe my desire to leave my parents' home and follow my own path against that of my family. My will, hard as steel. That," he continued, coming to life, "is the sign of Jupiter, because of James. We got drunk once in Muggle London and he said it would be fun to tattoo this sign on me, to remind me of his character, you know. James, the best of us, the leader of the gang, the king!”
He laughed and Severus pursed his lips.
“That's ridiculous,” he said.
“This one” - Sirius pointed to a series of runes along his sternum as if he hadn't been interrupted – “means ‘midnight’…”
“I can read,” Severus grumbled, “as you pointed out, I have learnt the runes. The old and the new,” he said.
“I see! So ‘midnight’ is for remembering our nocturnal escapades with the Marauders, the time when Remus transformed and we had the time of our lives. This - on the upper left arm - is the Gryffindor lion, of course. I've got the constellation of the Big Dog here - it was on his belly on the left - and the big star here - he was pointing to his waist on the left - that's um... that's for my first name, Sirius.
He blushed slightly and met Severus's gaze, forcing himself to remain impassive.
“How old were you when you did this? Were you drunk?”
“Er... it was after Hogwarts. But I was sober,” he admitted.
Severus laughed mockingly.
“And this?” he asked, pointing to his right shoulder.
A long, black, irregular bar stretched from his shoulder to above the alchemical symbol for fusion.
“Oh, I made that in Azkaban. With a stone I found in the cell and my blood. Even without a wand, I managed to turn my blood into ink. I've always been good at Transfiguration. I used to cut my shoulder with the stone and let the ink flow out. This was just after I was imprisoned. It allowed me to escape a little from the indescribable pain I felt inside.
The mocking smile left Severus' lips.
“You're mad, Black,” he said.
Sirius shrugged.
“At least I was when I was doing it.”
“Anyway, about the others," Severus returned, changing the subject, "you're terribly narcissistic, true to yourself. I can see you at eighteen with Potter, getting all those tattoos to make you look special.”
“You're the one who wanted to know,” exclaimed Sirius with an outraged voice.
“Yes, I've wanted to ask for months.”
“For... what? Months? How did you know I had tattoos?”
Severus realised his mistake too late. He blushed again.
“Sometimes you can see a bit when your shirt is unbuttoned,” he muttered.
“Ah, and you're looking at it,” Sirius said teasingly.
“When you're in front of me, I don't have much of a choice.”
“I'm sure you were watching on purpose," Sirius continued.
Severus shrugged.
“Unless you've seen me with my shirt off before," Sirius said suddenly.
Severus didn't even try to argue.
“That summer... when you couldn't see. I was sure that... at some point you seemed to see again and you... you pretended not to see so that you could watch me,” Sirius said, blinking.
Severus knew he was as red as his skin would allow him to be now. His face was on fire.
“I didn't mean to,” he snapped. “You walked into my room, shirtless, just as I regained my sight.”
“And you said nothing!”
“I didn't know what to say!”
“You just wanted to look at me,” Sirius said with a broad smile.
“No, I didn't,” Severus snapped.
But he knew he wasn't convincing. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat and a warmth spreading through him.
“Why don't you admit that you wanted to look at me,” Sirius asked. “And now?”
“Now?' Severus stammered. “Now I'd like you to leave my room, I want to take a shower!”
“Of course,” Sirius replied, still smiling.
But he didn't move.
“Do you have any tattoos?”
“Me?” Severus choked. “What's the matter with you? I'm not the type to have dogs and stars drawn on my body, thank you very much. And I've already got enough... well, you know. He marks us all.”
As he said this, Severus caught his left forearm. Sirius looked at him with what appeared to be pity. But he said nothing.
“Well, if you don't like stars and animals, you won't like my back,” Sirius said in a lighter tone.
“Your back?”
But Severus stifled an exclamation of horror. Sirius had turned around and now Severus was facing a large black dog, a stag and a werewolf staring at him under a starry sky on a full moon night, tattooed all over Sirius's muscular back.
“Get out of my room,” Severus repeated. “I can't bear to look at this.”
Sirius laughed and got up from the bed.
“As you wish. Shall I send up some breakfast?”
“Yes, thank you,” Severus grunted as he recovered from his shock.
He watched Black's back disappear through the door and fall back into his pillows. He couldn't believe he had Potter and Lupin tattooed on his back. Severus had noticed an area that was whiter than the rest and guessed that he had magically erased Pettigrew. He stifled a groan into his hands and wondered if he could press himself against Sirius's skin again without thinking of Potter Senior. Then he imagined himself stroking the Gryffindor's chest, kissing him all over. He'd wrapped his thin arms around Sirius and touched his back...
“No!” Severus cried out loudly.
He wouldn't do that. He didn't want to. He shook Black from his thoughts and rose from his bed, making his way, a little unsteadily, to the bathroom. He recognised the marble bath with the snake-shaped taps and flicked his wand to turn on the hot water. Carefully he undressed. He took a quick look at the Dark Mark and then slipped into the water. He needed to think about what had happened before he found himself here. He needed to talk to Dumbledore because he had a theory forming in his mind.