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The hate fucking was astounding. It was transcendental. Severus still couldn't believe he was shagging bloody Black. If Regulus were alive, he would owe him a fortune. He often joked that their rivalry was fueled by pent up lust.
Severus never believed that Black felt anything other than disgust and hatred for him. He was proven wrong the night after Black was saved from the Ministry of Magic. He visited Number 12 Grimmauld Place to gloat about saving his arse, but instead of verbally sparing Black attacked him with a snog.
It all started with a mistake. One hot messy judgment lapse led to many others. Black was like a bitch in heat in bed. He had the stamina of a teenager. They fucked on every surface of Grimmauld Place, even in front of Walburga’s screeching portrait. But Severus kept returning for more because Black held him after they fucked.
He enjoyed fucking Black and being fucked by him, but the aftercare Black provided him with was what he truly desired. Black caressed his body as if he were priceless art. Every kiss was like it was their last, desperate, passionate, and full of need.
He was always asked to stay after they fucked. Severus was touch-starved and Black was the first man to treat him softly after sex since Regulus. His attraction to Black had nothing to do with his younger brother. They were very distinct.
Regulus encouraged his darker aspects while Black nurtured his goodness. There was barely any goodness in him since the loss of Lily and Regulus, but it was there. Hidden under biting remarks, sarcasm, and grief.
Regulus was his first love. It was a soft burn that intensified during the war. They were together for two years and it was secret because Walburga wouldn't approve. Severus still loved Regulus, but another stole his heart. His feelings for Black were like an inferno on a cold winter night.
Black was different from his teenage self. Azkaban mellowed his arrogance and destroyed his carefree disposition. Severus coveted the tortured man. Black seemed to understand him now.
Their hate fucking was less about hate once they spent time together. Severus found out that Black had nightmares about Azkaban and worried about Potter constantly. He learned that the mutt blamed himself for Potter's situation with the Durley's. Unwillingly, he considered Black his friend.
They spent every weekend together and Black whined when Severus didn't come over. He was going stir crazy locked in headquarters. Severus wanted to take him out of there.
Their affair had been going on for more than six months and they hadn't discussed it with anyone. Lupin found out accidentally because he arrived at Number 12 Grimmauld Place while they were fucking on a sofa. He wasn't surprised. He congratulated them on their relationship.
It led to awkward silence between Severus and Sirius. They didn't label their relationship because it would mean something. Severus wasn't ready to admit his feelings for the mutt.
"What are we?" Black asked. His head was on Severus's lap.
Severus played with his hair. "Are you preoccupied with Lupin's words? There is no need to be. This is... It just is. There is no need to vocalize whatever this is."
Black sat up. He frowned. "You know, I feel--"
"Yes," he snogged him. "Come to bed." Severus walked into Black's bedroom.
It was simple. Their feelings didn't need to be verbalized because they spoke with their bodies.