D.O.C.T.O.R.

Author's Notes: Many thanks to my fantastic beta amightypenguin. A birthday fic written for the wonderfully talented xnuinx.

*

Doctor

"Unlike you, Black, I don't have all day." Snape stroked a finger over the edge of a shelf, inspecting Molly Weasley's cleaning skills. "Would you care to explain why I was called here?"

Sirius wasn't sure whether to be irritated or relieved that the Potions Master wasn't looking at him. His fingers scratched at the top of his thigh as he answered, "I have a bit of a problem."

"Indeed. I agree, you have many problems," Snape said, "but I fail to see why that self-revelation requires my presence." A crevice of the carved mantelpiece yielded a speck of dirt and he stared at it reproachfully before wiping his finger on his robes.

"You have potions."

"Again, correct. But I still fail to see…"

"Look," Sirius snapped, "I'm stuck here, hiding, in this bloody house. I can't go out. I can't go to St. Mungo's. I can't call for a Mediwizard. As much as it pains me to admit, the only person that can help me is you."

Snape looked at him then. "Ah, a medical condition. Well, if I am to aid you, I do require to know the specifics."

"Azkaban isn't the cleanest of places," Sirius answered evasively, dropping his gaze to his fidgeting fingers.

"I am aware of that. I take it then, that this is something you picked up there?"

"Yes."

Snape sighed. "This is growing tiresome. I have neither the time nor the inclination to play guessing games with you, Black. Either you tell me what the problem is or I return to Hogwarts."

Sirius lifted his eyes and met Snape's stare. "I have lice."

"You have an infestation of lice?" Snape looked almost disappointed at the revelation.

A nod.

"For Merlin's sake, Black, you are behaving like a child. I have a simple shampoo that will…"

"They aren't in my hair."

Snape's eyes dropped to Sirius's groin, and he didn't hide the malicious twist of his lips.


Odious

The ointment was bright green and smelled like fungus, a particularly cloying and rampant fungus. Sirius wrinkled his nose and stuck his fingers reluctantly into the pot.

It felt even worse than it looked: slimy and cold to the touch. Probably like Snape, Sirius thought. Not that he thought about what Snape felt like.

'Apply liberally to the affected area' was written in neat script on the label, and Sirius gave his gunk-laden fingers one final look of distaste before dropping his hand and streaking it on his skin.

It wasn't as bad as he thought. It was almost… pleasant.


Concerns

"Moony, it's shrinking." Sirius's voice was muffled. He had his trousers undone, and his fingers on the elastic waist of his pants, pulling them away from his body so he could peer inside.

"Don't be an idiot." Remus barely spared him a glance. "And put that away; one of the children could come in."

"But it's getting smaller," Sirius insisted, letting the elastic ping back. He pulled up his zip as he walked over to the couch.

"Is that even possible?"

"Not funny." He thumped down on the seat beside Remus, who looked at him seriously.

"Why would Severus want to make you smaller?"

"Jealousy?"

Remus rolled his eyes and returned to his book.


Trust Me

Arms folded, Snape's eyebrows were raised. "What possible reason could I have for disfiguring your body?"

Sirius considered saying 'jealousy' just to see Snape's reaction but instead answered, "You hate me."

"Do I really?"

The tone was so emotionless, Sirius was suddenly unsure. "Yeah," he said. "You’ve always hated me." At the lack of response, he added childishly, "Snivellus."

Black eyes regarded him coldly. "It has been a long time since school, Black. Some of us have more important things to worry about. I find it rather pathetic that you still dwell on the past." Snape scooped a handful of Floo powder from the jar on the mantelpiece and paused.

"There is nothing wrong with the ointment," he said abruptly and then threw the powder, stepping into the fireplace and away.

It was a long time before Sirius stopped staring at the crackling fire.


Obvious

"I've run out." Sirius caught Snape's sleeve as he walked out of the Order meeting.

Snape allowed himself to be pulled to the side, but did not keep his voice down as he said, "Surely the infestation has been eradicated?"

Sirius didn't need to look to know Moody's eyes – both magical and otherwise – had swivelled in their direction, and he tugged Snape away from the others and closer to the wall.

"Keep your voice down," he hissed. "And, no, it hasn't. Been eradicated, I mean." He realised his hand was still entwined in Snape's robes and he let go.

"Are you sure you are following my directions clearly?"

"Of course I am," he said. "I'm not stupid."

Snape's lips quirked, and Sirius was surprised to find he wasn't irritated. He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, well, even I can manage an 'apply liberally' instruction."

"If you say so."

The scepticism was challenging, and Sirius replied without thinking. "If you don't believe me, why don't you come and see for yourself?"

He didn't know which one of them was more surprised.


Rubbing It In

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Sirius said, pulling down his trousers and trying not to look at Snape. The bathroom, which he usually found cavernous, suddenly felt absurdly small.

Snape was standing within touching distance. Not that Sirius was considering touching Snape. No, of course he wasn't. Why would he do that? He had never, not once, thought about touching Snape. Well, apart from the ointment, but that was different. That was-

"Are you going to proceed, or should I call out for some tea?" Snape's sharp voice cut into his thoughts.

"Er…sorry, yeah. Do you have the…?" Snape was already holding out a jar and Sirius took it, feeling his cheeks reddening. "Thanks."

Whether it was the dampness of his palms or the tremble in his fingers, Sirius found the jar's lid reluctant to turn. Feeling even more embarrassed, he held it out to Snape, who unscrewed it wordlessly. This time, however, he did not return the jar; instead, he held it out of Sirius's reach and looked pointedly at Sirius's pants.

"Would it not be prudent to fully disrobe before application? Or is that where you've been going wrong?"

"I…er…oh, bollocks," Sirius said, pushing his pants down in one sharp movement. He straightened, wishing his t-shirt was a little longer. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to cover himself with his hands.

It was warm, oppressively so, and Sirius was aware of every sound, every breath that Snape took. He lifted his eyes, expecting derision, only to find Snape was staring at his groin with an intensity that was unsettling.

Parts of Sirius twitched, and before he could humiliate himself any further – although he wasn't sure that was possible - he cleared his throat. Snape's head lifted sharply.

"Ointment?" Sirius said, proud that he'd managed to utter a word.

For a moment, Snape looked confused, and then he held out the jar. It shivered in his grip as he asked tightly, "So at this point you would…?"

"I'd take a scoop," Sirius said, "and just slap it on."

"Slap it on?" Lips pinched. "Surely you take more care with the application than that?"

"I… Well, no." Sirius frowned. "Does it matter?"

"The ointment requires to be massaged into the affected area quite thoroughly."

"It doesn't say that on the label," he said defensively.

This earned him a derisive sneer. "I would have thought it was obvious, even to someone with your limited mental capacity, that it is imperative that all the lice, and their possible retreats, are exposed to the treatment."

Sirius was beginning to understand. "The little buggers hide in the cracks?"

"I wouldn't have put it quite so crudely."

Flashing his teeth in a cocky grin, and emboldened by the easing of tension, Sirius gestured to the jar. "So, are we going to get on with this or just talk about it?"

The jar was brought almost within his reach, but stopped short, and Snape said, "Perhaps I should demonstrate the correct application."

Sirius's head snapped up in surprise. "You what?" He tried desperately to ignore the stirring of sensation between his legs, trying to focus on the man in front of him. It was Snape, for Merlin's sake. Snape. He felt his cock get harder and gulped.

"If I demonstrate the technique then I will be assured you are not wasting the considerable time and effort I have put into making this ointment." Black eyes stared unblinkingly at Sirius's flushed face. "I do not like wasting my time."

"Right." Sirius attempted to pretend the whole situation was perfectly acceptable. His heart thundered in his ears. "Right," he repeated more firmly. "So, how…?"

"Just stay where you are," Snape replied. "I will come around behind you. I believe that will facilitate a better demonstration."

"Yeah, gre-eat." Sirius's voice cracked as Snape slid past him, the soft fabric of his robes brushing against his bare flesh. When the Potions Master pressed his body flush against his spine, he tried not to flinch away; pathetically grateful when the hands, one still holding the jar, circled his body and effectively trapped him. He took a shuddering breath.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Black." Hot breath bounced the words against his neck, chased away by tendrils of tickling hair, and his cock bounced.

Long, pale fingers dipped into the jar and withdrew, covered in the ointment. There was a ripple of movement as Snape tutted, smearing his creation between his fingers. "Too much Butterflower," he said. "The texture is far too greasy."

Sirius fought back the urge to giggle, but the thought of Snape – the King of Greasiness – complaining of anything being too greasy made his shoulders hitch.

"Behave, Black, or I will leave you to fight your scuttling entourage on your own."

"Sorry." Sirius took another tremulous breath. "It's just that all this is a bit…oh, fuck!" he gasped as Snape's fingers streaked a line of ointment along the underside of his cock, painting the tip with a swirl of green before pulling away.

"Thoroughly apply the ointment," Snape said.

Sirius knew this should all be disgusting, should be utterly repulsive. It was Snape. But then the fingers, coated in a fresh layer of ointment, stroked against his tender flesh, circling his balls with colour, and he couldn't even remember why they were doing this… why Snape's devilishly curving fingers painting a path along his perineum was suddenly the only thing of importance in his world, and oh, Merlin's beard, don't you dare fucking stop...

"I won't," Snape said in his ear and swirled a finger around the eager little hole, sliding inside, making sure that every possible hiding place was treated.

There was a thud as the jar hit the floor and Sirius arched his hips forward, whining as Snape encircled his cock with his other hand and stroked hard, matching the rhythm of his strokes to the thrust of finger. In –stroke- out –stroke- in –stroke- out. And then Sirius howled, throwing his head back and banging it hard against Snape's, coating Snape's hand with streaks of white on green.

Snape held him tight against his chest until the room righted itself, and only then did he let go and step away.

Sirius was breathless, embarrassed, astounded. He stared at the other man, watching him move with his characteristic control over to the sink to wash his hands, waiting for the inevitable verbal slur.

But Snape was intently removing the ointment from his hands, not even glancing at Sirius as he bent to retrieve the jar from the floor so he could rinse it out.

Feeling awkward, Sirius took a handful of toilet tissue and cleaned himself off as best he could without removing the ointment. What were they going to do now? Could he just ignore what had happened, or should he say something?

Oh, bugger it, he thought and cleared his throat. "I'm not sure I grasped how you applied that stuff," he said loudly, tucking himself into his pants and pulling up his trousers. "Is there any chance you could…?"

"Same time tomorrow?" Snape said blandly, screwing the lid back onto the jar.

"Yeah, great, I…er…I'll look forward to it." And before Snape could respond, Sirius darted out of the room.

Later, when Remus saw him grinning even as he scratched viciously at his groin, Sirius didn't even try to explain.