To Touch
Written for Kink_Bingo. (Hand Fetish square)
Was kind of half-asleep when I wrote this, so hopefully it isn't too terrible.
It cannot be said that Severus Snape is beautiful. Regulus Black, sprawled beneath him like a fallen angel, his dark curls an ink stain on the pillowcase, knows this. There is nothing lovely about thin body and sallow skin, lank raven hair falling into flat black eyes. But Severus Snape has beautiful hands.
His brother's friend Remus, Regulus thinks sometimes, has nice hands. Pale, clever hands with a sprinkle of freckles across the back and ink-stained fingers. James Potter, much as he hates the prick, has nice hands too; those seeker's hands, thin and long with tendons dancing under the skin when he fidgets. Regulus watches them sometimes, when he is not trying to outdo them, swatting them aside to strain for the snitch.
Severus' hands are not like either of their hands. Nothing like Regulus' own hands, smooth and white and wrist-flick fast. They are slow, steady hands, stained with potions ingredients, scarred from splash burns, calloused. Regulus likes to watch him work, those long, graceful fingers playing over everything, as though he can learn all there is to know about a thing just by running his hands across it.
"Touch me," Regulus whispers sometimes, feeling Severus above him in the darkness between velvet curtains. "Just touch."
And those hands obey, slide over him as though they would memorize ever dip and rise of him, every sweep of silken skin under calloused fingertips. The gentle rough of them is enough to have him aching for more, rolling up into the skimming touch. A thumb brushes across his lips and he parts them to suck it in, curve his tongue around it and moan while Severus sighs above him.
On those nights, because Regulus has asked for it, Severus just goes on that way, exploring the faint curve of Regulus' chest, the flat plane of his stomach. Hands slide over the arch of his hips and along the skin on the insides of his thighs, taunting until he writhes and whimpers, pride long since fled. He pleads until one of those lovely, lovely hands curls around his aching length, fluttering up and down, thumb sliding slick over the head. He comes shamefully quick after that, body wrecked on green sheets, and Severus watches him come undone and smiles before bringing himself off fast and hard, his release splashing white across flushed skin.
Other nights Severus leaves the candles burning, charmed above the bed with their light spilling across himself and Regulus, catching in Regulus' dark hair and making it gleam. Severus wants more than touch on those nights, slides his fingers into Regulus' mouth and moans shuddering into Regulus' shoulder while Regulus swirls his tongue around and around, sucks them down until his lips meet Severus' palm. When they are wet he pulls away, tracing them down some invisible line to Regulus' center, rubbing slow, teasing circles. He plays like that until Regulus is sighing, pressing down to try and force him inside.
When he finally complies, Severus starts slow, one long finger slick with lube sliding sweetly in and out, deeper each time. He knows the pleasure Regulus takes in this and indulges it, letting the younger boy feel him as another finger presses in with the first. His other hand will be busy everywhere else he can think of to touch. Sometimes when Regulus is feeling particularly bold he catches the restless appendage in his own, pressing his lips to every inch, to every scar and stain and callous until Severus is moaning above him. He flicks his tongue between fingers and nips a mark into the thick of Severus' palm and Severus hits the spot inside him that makes him see stars for the last time he can take and he spills between them. Severus follows him over then slumps panting across his chest while Regulus wraps him in his arms and holds him there, hands sliding up and down the sweat-slicked curl of his back.
When they can breathe again Severus shifts to the side, languid sprawl of too-long limbs. Regulus curls back into his body, twines their fingers together, and cradles their joined hands against his chest. Severus grumbles and curses and finally gives in and Regulus can feel his smile against his shoulder and he smiles too. He loves Severus' hands.