Severus looked out the window. It had been far too long since he’d last laid eyes on anyone other than his own reflection in the mirror. Sometimes he thought he might be lonely, but really he’d always been lonely so he oughtn’t to be complaining now. The skies were bright, hardly a cloud floating through the open blue, and he thought that at the very least there were worse places he could be.
He’d been in the tower for three weeks now, observing, taking notes, documenting everything happening below. Albus hadn’t exactly forced him into it, although he’d been given the impression that if he didn’t accept the mission, all his previous work would be for naught. And people said he was manipulative.
He’d climbed the many flights of stairs up to the attic-like room of the creaking mansion that stood next to what had long ago been the Riddle family house.
So far, there hadn’t been much at all to report on. The old gardener grumbled around the lawns during the day and, once settled in for the night, did nothing more than read by candle light. Frankly, Severus found it rather dull, and he couldn’t quite understand why the muggle never bothered to just turn on a bloody lamp. But here he was and he wasn’t one to complain about things. Albus was certain Voldemort would return to his childhood home.
Severus avoided sleep when at all possible. He told himself it would be terribly irresponsible to do so, that he was here to observe at all times and should never indulge himself in such comforts as sleep, but truthfully he just dreaded the moments between being awake and deep asleep, when he’d feel like he was falling, falling, falling. Falling to the floor, body writhing with curses, falling into endless space where screams and shrieks surrounded him. Falling into Sirius’s arms after a long hard day.
It wasn’t like they broke up. How to break up with someone you never dated to begin with? Simple; Severus had told Sirius about the mission, told him their little fling had been fun for a few months but now it was time to move on and go back to the real world. Sirius had yelled at him, and Severus had stood stoically against a wall, flinching when Sirius got close enough that the words started to hurt. Then he’d walked out, spoken briefly with Albus, and now here he was. That was just how it was. Nothing to agonize over, just the way his life had to be. He pitied Sirius for thinking they could live otherwise.
(At night, when the night grew too dark to be staved off and the tears slipped down his gaunt cheeks, he cursed the world for making him this way. What kind of creators created such misery for a man?)
But now, his eyes felt heavy and he knew his ability to concentrate had been compromised from lack of sleep, so he spread out a blanket on the floor, took his pillow off the chair he kept it on, and pulled a flimsy sheet over his body. Lying there, still, he could hear his heart in his chest more loudly than he’d have liked. Thought about how Sirius used to do that to him, for no fair reason at all.
The room felt too still; Severus felt vulnerable laying there, sunlight streaming in through the window he spent his time spying through, the summer air just right for once. When he woke, drenched in sweat and with little bits of crust in the corners of his eyes, it was dark out. He couldn’t chance showering, so he flicked his wand with a cleansing charm and pulled off his top to change into a fresh one.
“Lookin’ good,” said someone from the shadows, and Severus would have jumped if he didn’t know that damn voice so well.
“You can’t get rid of me that easy, baby,” Sirius said, standing and moving to Severus, who’d frozen on the spot. Sirius leaned close, looking almost pained as he kissed Severus's lips, kissed along his jawline, brought his face into Severus’s neck and gently sucked at the skin.
“You know, for all the shit I thought you were guilty of, I never did take you for a coward. Or, at least not in this sense.” His tone had flipped from playfully annoyed to full of anger, and Severus’s wand flew instantly into his hand. He gripped it tightly and pointed it at the other man.
“What’re you going to do with that, cut me up? Make me bleed?” Sirius laughed. “We’ve been through all that before. You know I wouldn’t complain.”
“Why are you here, Black?” Severus asked, stepping back and praying no one in the neighborhood had seen Sirius come in. If they had, the last few weeks would be for nothing and they’d lose their only lead on the Dark Lord.
Sirius moved to Severus until he was very blatantly in his space. He made his voice go low, “Do it, throw a curse at me. You told me you wouldn’t care if I died.”
“You of all people know my words don’t always line up exactly with what I mean.” Severus looked away from Sirius. Christ knew he’d never been good with emotions, but Black’s response was far too dramatic for what had transpired between them. Black liked to be center-stage, right in the front of the action. He stormed around, made a big scene, liked to be cloaked in drama. The man should have become an actor, he fit so many of the stereotypes.
“What, so you want me here? Glad I came?” Sirius leaned in closer. Severus could feel his breathing. Before, he would have put a hand on Sirius’s chest. He ignored it now.
Severus sighed. “Hasn’t been that long since you’ve been out of Azkaban. The crazy doesn’t seem to have quite left you.” Severus did his best to sound put off, annoyed, but realized he just came across as dejected, a man unraveling. He could call Sirius mad all he wanted but it wouldn’t change the fact that they were made the same.
Sirius stepped back, exhaled like he was sick of Severus’s shit but not ready to leave despite it. He gave Severus a cursory glance then slid down against the wall. Severus took a seat beside him.
They were careful not to touch. One had to be careful in these sorts of situations, Severus thought, not to touch the man whom they’d once thought they might love. Might perhaps be happy with someday. Severus nodded to himself. One had to be careful indeed.
But Severus still had never clothed his chest and arms, and while he wasn’t embarrassed to be seen by Sirius, he felt tense and uncomfortable.
“So.” Sirius started. “What’s your deal, up here? So important you had to leave in a huff.”
Albus had been explicitly clear that he was not to tell anyone the details of the mission, under any circumstances. Severus told Sirius the truth anyways.
“Where do you sleep?”
Severus nodded toward his blanket and pillow on the floor.
“No wonder you’ve got back pain,” Sirius cracked and Severus was sure to not let himself smile. “Here, turn,” Sirius instructed and Severus did so, didn't protest as Sirius began to rub his back, pressing his thumbs into his shoulder blades and massaging the stress knots away.
“Oh,” Severus sighed into the pleasure, very softly, as if against his will. “It was never about the mission. You know that.”
Sirius was silent for a long moment, and Severus half thought he wouldn’t respond.
“I do.” He finally said, and turned to look at Severus. He tilted his head in that way that made Severus wish he was a kid again so that he could cry, could let everything out.
Sirius stopped his massaging, and Severus leaned back into him; Sirius’s back up against the wall, Severus’s back up against Sirius.
“Severus,” Sirius has to ask, even knowing it won’t change things, “Wouldn't you just let me love you?”