Author:bonfoi Rating: NC17 Pairing: Severus Snape/Remus Lupin Summary: Not all black cats are the same in the dark. Challenge:hp_may_madness’s Kink 2: Partially-clothed Sex | Weekly Prompt: Genderswap or Polyjuice Word Count: 1,500 Genre: Alternate Universe; Missing Scene; PWP; Grey!fic Warnings: Swearing; Anonymous Sex A/N: Had to write it before I went to sleep. Go figure! Could be considered a stand alone or a prequel to A Special Reward
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.
This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
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Remus Lupin didn't care whose body he fucked, just as long as it was warm, and male.
The House of Strangers promised anonymity and bodies, two things Remus craved right at that moment. He'd just had Harry Potter berate him for wanting to fight instead of staying home with his pregnant wife. Ha! What the boy didn't know was going to reduce him to dust if he had to carry the weight of one more secret.
"Does Sir wish to enter a room of delights?" a soft, cultured, young voice asked.
Remus looked toward the voice and saw only a hazy, androgynous outline. He sniffed, the one thing magic didn't hide well was a person's scent. He recognized the guide as the doorkeepers were called, but the name eluded him for the time being.
"Yes, Sir would like to enter the room with the grey door," Remus said just as softly. His eyes fixed on the smoky grey doors as he waited for the guide to lead him towards them.
"Will Sir please show me his band of entrance?"
Remus thrust his right arm out, a twisting band metal with five tags dangling from it. The guide looked at the tags, his—the scent gave him away—surprise evident when he saw three of them were black, signalling a Dom. "Sir, the Grey Room is not for Doms per se..." the guide's voice trailed off.
"The Grey Room is for misadventure, intrigue, deception. I've been there before." Remus' voice was clipped, with a growl hovering just beyond hearing.
"Then Sir may enter." The guide stepped back and waved his arm theatrically toward the grey doors Remus had never taken his eyes off of. They opened with a barely heard whoosh of sound.
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Inside the Grey Room, it was just as foggy and obscured as he remembered. He could hear and smell bodies, but the herbs infusing the fog dulled his senses, muting them as if he weren't cursed. Here, he was less a wolf on the prowl, and more a man with a specific need.
The magicks of the rooms of the House of Strangers were old, older than Hogwarts. Remus had done his research before he came the first time. It was build on the site of an ancient Roman oracle which had taken over the site from a sect of druid seers. The history meant little to him other than something to let part of his brain gnaw on as he let the compulsions of the fog pull him toward what he needed.
When a hand slide over his back and curled over his hip, Remus stopped dead. The fingers were long and powerful, the palm square...and manly. When Remus put his own hand down he felt the crisp hair on the man's wrist, the heavy bone of it solid and somehow reassuring. He moaned, and the man made some pleased sound as well.
Remus let his body be turned and held between two hands, a sturdy, lean and muscular thigh masterfully wedged between Remus' legs. He began riding it, biting his bottom lip, letting the other man move him as if he were a toy. Soon, one of the man's hands was gently searching for the button and zip of Remus' trousers, undoing them as Remus began grinding over that strong thigh.
"Yes..." Remus hissed as the fingers—calloused, bony—carded through the curls surrounding his cock and then moved down to roll his bollocks like dice. Remus gave mewled and then grunted as those fingers pulled his bollocks down, bringing him back from the brink. "Let me feel you," Remus groaned.
The other man must have had his placket undone before Remus found him. His cock was there, ready to thrust and glide against Remus'. The man bounced his cock against Remus', rubbing their cockheads against each other and even pushing Remus back by the hip so he could pushed the slits against each other, sharing their pre-come. Remus' eyes fluttered closed and he breathed deeply, letting the drugging fog open his senses, and lower his inhibitions even more.
"Hold me. Frot against me. I want to feel your nails." The orders fell from Remus' lips, and the mysterious stranger complied swiftly. Soon Remus was holding on his shoulders, riding the man's thigh while his cock was fisted against the other man's. Remus could feel his bollocks tightening. "Make me scream."
There, in the shifting haze, where Remus could be himself, where he was distilled to his essence, he bit his lip so hard he drew blood before he screamed out his completion. The hand that had been curved over his hip had slipped down the back of his trousers, the middle finger slipping easily down his sweaty crack to press into and then past the tight muscle guarding the heat of his arse. It was unexpected and cruel and brilliant to Remus. He could feel his partner pulsing against him, a rush of nonsense words spilling out of him just as he spent himself over Remus' stomach.
They stood there, ephemeral bodies in a cloud, held together only by their hands and a thigh. Then the stranger sighed. Remus thought he smelled something—the man kissed Remus, crushing their cocks together between their bodies as he tried to crawl inside Remus by way of his mouth. He devoured Remus, his tongue swiping over the bite on Remus' lip only to leave his own mark.
Then he reached out and guided Remus' hand inside his trousers, to the weeping, damp heat behind his bollocks.
Remus let his fingers explore. The other man was a hermaphrodite! Remus growled low in his throat and the other squirmed, the pussy trying to suck Remus' fingers inside.
"Fuck me with your hand," the stranger whispered.
"Gladly." The word rumbled out of Remus' mouth and against the other man's throat.
The thigh moved away from between Remus' legs, giving him room to finger-fuck, to delve deep, to rub and seek and then plunge back inside, over and over. Soon, Remus' cock was revived, seeming to curve toward the damp recess that his fingers were revelling inside.
"I want to stick my cock inside you," Remus moaned.
"Then do it."
Remus felt a spell remove the man's trousers, leaving his robes to shield them—if they needed it. To help, Remus cast a stiffening charm on the robes to help hold the man as he lifted him up and then down onto his cock, unerringly reaming that tight, burning pussy. They both howled and then Remus let his preternatural strength loose, lifting up and letting gravity bring his anonymous lover down, the rhythm increasing as Remus smelled desire, lust...concern.
That last emotion drove Remus wild and he bit his partner's robe-covered shoulder, pulling him down over his cock and filling that slick cavern with his own emissions. Then interior muscles rippled around Remus' sensitive cock as the other man's pussy milked the last vestiges of Remus' passion from him.
Slowly, carefully, Remus disengaged himself from the other man, a faint aroma rising from their mingled juices and reminding him someone else, someone he couldn't remember. The moment only lasted an instant, but Remus was gentle as he cast cleaning spells over the two of them.
"Just what I needed."
"It was reciprocal."
A gong sounded and the haze took on bluish tinge. "Sirs and Madams, your hour has ended. Please return to the foyer."
The stranger stepped back, away from Remus' suddenly grasping hands. "Be safe..." he said, and then he was gone, leaving only faint eddies to waft over Remus.
He tucked himself back into his trousers. He raised a hand to push his shaggy hair back into some semblance of grooming, but he caught the faint whiff of other, self, moss, newts... "Severus?"
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In another room, hidden away from the other clients of the House of Strangers, Severus Snape waited for the Hermaphroditus Potion to wear off. He watched the men and women in a large crystal ball, their forms fading away as he concentrated on one being in particular.
Soon he saw the man he was looking for, dishevelled, sated, and oddly, looking around curiously. When the prat lifted his head and sniffed the air, Severus cursed under his breath and summoned a house-elf.
"Brand, please clean the air of the house now."
In a minute the air of the House of Strangers was replaced with the perfume of Spring flowers and newly-mown hay, masking Severus'—and anyone else's—scent. Severus saw the look of disappointment on Lupin's face and smoothed his wand hand over the crystal ball, muting its enchantment.
"Argh!" His body reverted to its normal single gender in the blink of an eye. Severus ground his teeth together at the pain. After a few moments he could stand up straight, curiously bereft, but satisfied. Perhaps now Dumbledore's pet werewolf would give up his deadly wish of having a more active role in the war.
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~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading. ~~~