lotrwariorgodss (lotrwariorgodss) wrote in bbtp_challenge, @ 2007-09-01 23:41:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | 2007 fic, 2007 harry potter, 2007 slash |
FIC: HP - Remus/Harry
Just under the wire...
Title: A Painful Lesson (That Won't Be Learned)
Author/Artist: lotrwariorgodss/kittehkat
Fandom/Pairing: Harry Potter, Remus/Harry, a hint of Snape/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2400
Summary: Harry thinks he knows what he wants, and goes after Remus to get it. Only problem? Remus gives it to him.
Highlight for Warnings: *Cross-gen, dub-con, anal & oral, rough sex, some blood, screwed-up!Harry, OOC-ness, AU*
Author's Notes: My contribution to bbtp_challenge! I can't believe I wrote this… But there's also some lovely art to go with it, provided by my friend and roommate Kittehkat who can be found on LiveJournal.
Harry isn't one to indulge in childhood naivety, but this summer he finds himself unable to stop wishing. Wishing for things that, if he's honest with himself, he doesn't believe he can have.
He wishes he didn't feel so alone, and he wishes his nightmares would go away. He wishes the anger and feel of betrayal would leave his heart so that he can enjoy these few weeks, finally away from the abuse of his family. He wishes his friends didn't look at him with fear and pity, when all he wants is their trust.
But mostly, he wishes that he could find someone, just one person who understands him.
Oddly enough, that wish is the only one that comes true.
****************************************
Remus knows what it's like to be alone, Harry reasons. He knows what it feels like to be betrayed, understands the feeling that comes from seeing the people who love you unable to look at you without terror or pity.
So Remus becomes his target.
It is unconscious at first. A smile too wide, too many hours spent pretending to read in the library, stealing glances over the top of dusty old books, and suddenly he notices that he is trying to get the man to notice him. It isn't quite flirting, but a longing, a desperation for human connection so strong that sends his imagination on overdrive. He dreams about being submissive, being taken, being wanted, and he never wakes up with dry sheets anymore.
****************************************
Remus is beginning to suspect something, which is exactly what Harry wants. He's asked Hermione how to shrink his clothes, so instead of looking like a scrawny urchin in a cotton potato sack, now he has a flat stomach and hipbones and an arse that he hopes is irresistible. From the way Remus's eyes had widened the first time Harry came down to dinner in his transformed clothes, he thinks that's a valid hope.
Harry doesn't leave him alone either. He hounds Remus's every step, like a puppy too small to know that it may be kicked. Remus doesn't kick him, but he doesn't pat him or speak sweetly to him either. Mostly, he tries to ignore him.
Harry figures it's easy to ignore him when all he does is dress like a slut and follow him around, so he resolves to make it a bit more difficult.
****************************************
Harry decides to make his move in the library. Remus has taken to watching him out of the corner of his eye, but he is so engrossed in his book that he doesn't notice Harry leave his own chair until he's standing touching distance away.
The urge to fall on his knees and beg for attention, affection, and understanding is overwhelming, but Harry resists and stands before Remus as the man lowers his book and looks up at him.
"Harry?"
"Remus."
He shifts uneasily in his chair. "Is there something you need?"
Harry whimpers in the back of his throat and falls into Remus's lap, ignoring the sharp pain of the book's corner digging into his stomach as he presses his lips against Remus's open, gasping mouth. For a second, Harry thinks he just might kiss back as the lips beneath his own relax, but once he realizes he is being shoved backwards onto the floor his heart sinks.
Harry lets his fringe fall into his eyes as he schools his face into its most hurt expression and looks up at his prey. Remus's eyes are wild, both outrage and lust vying for dominance, but his gaze is stern and commanding.
"No, Harry."
"But, Remus, I don't have anyone…no one who can understand me like you can. Can't we just –"
"I said, NO!" Remus growls. He tucks his book under his arm and walks out of the room swiftly, but he hesitates before stepping out into the hallway.
Harry figures it will only take a few more times for Remus to break.
He's right.
****************************************
They're alone in the kitchen. Remus is putting the kettle on; Harry is dropping to his knees.
When the man turns, he freezes and Harry gets a firm grip on his thighs before he can run.
"Please…" Harry whispers, hands already sliding up his thighs to remove the fabric that separates his watering mouth from what it craves. Remus takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut tightly. That doesn't stop him from nodding his consent.
"I can't fight you anymore."
Harry grins and slips his hand through Remus's now open trousers. "Good."
Even if the man's conscience is unwilling, his flesh is not, and the sizeable prick that Harry eases out of Remus's trousers is already swelling with hot blood. The first inch that slides in his mouth is bliss and he sucks on it hard. Remus's body jerks violently, nearly overturning the delicate teacup next to his fingers, which are white and curled over the edge of the counter. A little more slides into Harry's mouth and he sets his tongue in motion, wrapping around it, stroking the underside and pressing against the soft head as he tries to take in as much as he can.
For his first try, Harry thinks he does fairly well. Remus muffles his own groans by biting his hand, but he can't stop Harry from moaning around his cock, especially when it pulses and empties in his mouth. There is more spilling over onto his lips and chin than actually goes down his throat, so he licks Remus clean and releases him quickly so that he can catch what he missed.
He knows the sight of him licking come off his lips must be a delicious one – which is, of course, why he does it – so he is surprised when Remus doesn't even pause to watch him do it. The man is back in his trousers and out the door in seconds, leaving Harry kneeling on the kitchen floor, hard as a rock and chest aching.
He removes the boiling kettle from the stove, walks out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and curls into a ball on his bed.
****************************************
The next day, Remus pulls Harry into the downstairs bathroom and stares at him until his knees hit the tile.
It takes longer this time, but Harry is able to fit more in his mouth and even manages to let the head nudge the back of his throat. His hands take care of what his mouth cannot, and when Remus comes this time, Harry still can't swallow it all in one go. What is different this time is that Remus pulls out of Harry's mouth on his own and traces his thumb over Harry's lips, gathering what's left over and then feeding it back to him. Harry moans like a whore, which is exactly what Remus calls him after he chuckles darkly.
Remus pulls Harry to his feet and whispers, "Come back upstairs."
By the time Harry opens the door to Remus's room, the older man has stripped completely. He takes a deep breath. He's about to get exactly what he wanted, but he can't help being afraid. Remus doesn't speak to him as he removes Harry's clothes, methodically, piece by piece, until they both wear only flesh.
Remus kisses him violently, then leans in his ear to whisper, "I want you."
Harry shudders and goes limp in Remus's arms. He had always thought that it would be intoxicating to be wanted. And it is.
His heart pounds in his chest, and he gets so hot and dizzy that he nearly collapses. Thoughts fly through his head faster than he can catch hold of them, so everything is one big blur. Remus lays him down on the bed, sparing kisses only for Harry's neck and chest no matter how many times Harry tries to guide his head up for a proper kiss. Vaguely, he sees Remus's hand move down between his legs, and a slimy hand squeezes his bollocks before moving back towards his entrance.
Everything is happening so quickly. Remus is giving curt instructions, but Harry doesn't hear a word. Soon he feels the head of Remus's cock pressed against him and everything is thrown into focus as he realizes what's about to happen. The man presses in slowly, but still far too fast for Harry's liking. He whimpers in distress, but the man above him doesn't care – his eyes are closed as he revels in the bliss of burying himself in a tight arse. Harry gasps in pain as Remus starts to move, but he doesn't ask him to stop. He is somewhat amazed that Remus remembers him before he finishes, but the tight fist around his own prick makes the one inside him seem more bearable. So bearable in fact, that he comes, though he doesn't think this would be the case if he hadn't just given Remus a blowjob.
He expects that afterwards they will huddle together in Remus's bed and Harry will finally have the comfort and companionship he's been longing for and he can forget about what it cost him. But it doesn't happen. Remus pulls out of him as soon as he finishes and throws his clothes on so quickly that Harry is amazed he doesn't pull a muscle. He leaves the room without a backward glance.
Everything has a price. If being wanted is intoxicating, then this nausea and burn in his chest must be the hang over.
****************************************
Harry soon finds that being wanted also hurts. Badly.
Remus is fucking him over the table in the library so violently that he feels the tender skin on his hipbones shred and start to bleed onto the solid wood. His screams are muffled by a silencing charm, but he can still hear them loud and clear, especially since the sharp pain has heightened all his senses.
There is no pleasure in this for him, no pretense of love, only the degrading satisfaction of being able to give his body up for another's use. He's grateful that he can have that much, he just didn't imagine that the kind of intimacy and attention he craved would require him to learn so many new healing spells.
Harry wishes more than anything that he could beg him to stop, but he knows that if he withdraws the offer of his flesh, Remus won't have a reason to be close to him anymore. He grits his teeth and keeps his mouth shut.
After the first few times, either Remus's inhibitions completely vanish or he has really convinced himself that he is acting for Harry's benefit and wants to do the best he can. Harry knows he's asked for this, but he starts to think that maybe he didn't know what he was asking for in the first place. It doesn't matter anymore.
Illustrated Here
****************************************
It takes two weeks. Two weeks of cringing when anyone asks him to sit down, two weeks of having to wash two sets of come out of his clothes, and two weeks of breathless, painful, humiliating sex before he realizes it.
Remus doesn't want him. Remus is doing what he does best – teaching. And his lesson, this time, is simple: Be careful what you wish for. The night Remus deserts him on the bathroom floor, a small trail of pinkish come leaking out of him as his only company, is when he grasps it.
The next morning, when Remus drags him into the library and locks the door, Harry folds his arms across his chest and says, "No."
Harry knows he has guessed the man's motives correctly when Remus sighs and approaches him with guilt in his eyes instead of the usual lust. "Do you understand, Harry?"
Harry nods and blinks back tears.
"This isn't what you wanted, is it?"
Harry shakes his head and lets his tears flow freely. Remus pulls him into an embrace and sighs with what sounds like regret when Harry cringes at his touch.
"I'm so sorry, Harry, sorry it had to happen this way. You know I'd never hurt you if I could help it, but I knew you wouldn't learn unless you made the mistake yourself."
Remus pulls away and grips Harry's arms tightly. "You know you don't have to use sex to get what you want, Harry; there are so many ways to have love in your life, to have intimacy and affection. You have your friends, Sirius, Dumbledore, the Weasleys, and…me…if you can still bear the sight of me after what I've done to you."
Harry's chest feels hollow, his nerves raw, and he latches back on to the feelings of anger, loneliness, and betrayal that had been so familiar at the beginning of the summer. He smiles anyway and nods and makes an excuse about feeling tired. Remus releases him, and Harry goes back to his room.
He still can't sit properly, so he lays on his stomach, face to the side, eyes staring at nothing. He wonders how it could have all gone downhill so quickly, how he could have been stupid enough not to realize what Remus was doing all along, and how he will recover. But mostly he wonders how it is that, though the past two weeks had been one of the hardest, most miserable times in his life, nobody noticed anything different.
It is then he understands that he will never feel anything but alone. When he accepts that, it doesn't hurt quite so much.
****************************************
When Harry comes back for Christmas vacation, neither he nor Remus act any differently. They laugh with Sirius and join in the holiday festivities, and Remus seems very relieved that Harry is "back to normal".
He is sure that Remus would be glad to know that he no longer chases foolish dreams such as affection and love, especially not through sex. Harry knows Remus would be disappointed, however, if he told him that he was being fucked regularly by no less than five people at Hogwarts, so he keeps that bit of information to himself. Besides, it's not as if he'll be having sex with all those people when he returns – there's one in particular who is promising, and he gives Harry all that he now needs. Professor Snape loves taking his anger out on Harry, and Harry loves taking it. After all, someone to share his anger – that's all he's ever wanted.