HP fic: Perverse Love [Snape/Lupin, adult]
Title: Perverse Love Author: celandineb Pairing: Snape/Lupin Rating: adult Warning: bestiality Summary: Severus and Remus share a peculiar attachment. Note: Written for snegurochka_lee, in fervent thanks for all she's done for fandom and especially for the daily_deviant this past year. More or less a sequel to "Conjunction"... and another acrostic, in seven drabbles. *g*
"Lacewings, damn it! I ordered five pounds of lacewings, and they sent what?" Severus slammed his hand against the worktable. "Snakeskin. That idiot woman."
Remus removed the offending parcel, closing it and retying the string. "I'll return this. You're supposed to concentrate on brewing, remember? I do the rest."
Normally that was true; Remus ordered supplies, dealt with customers, all the things Severus hated, but he'd realized he was short during the full moon, and Remus didn't work that day or the next.
"Do you have enough to finish?"
"No." With a scowl Severus turned back to the simmering cauldron.
"Everything's straightened out with our supplier." Remus hesitated. "It was my fault, Severus."
"I placed the order." Black brows pulled together.
"Yes, but I ought to have checked on everything the day before I transformed, made a list of what you were low on. Then this wouldn't have happened." He had spent the better part of a week apologizing to customers, refunding money to those who canceled their now-delayed orders. They would finish the month in the red for the first time since they'd become partners in Severus' potions business.
"You do enough as it is." Severus' steady gaze held his.
Each time they had sex, Severus remembered the first -- blood magic performed as the Yule log burned. In the locked corners of his mind, he considered himself bound to Remus, though he knew that what they had done created no permanent tie; the rite was merely a mutual claiming of power, reinforced through the mingling of blood and semen.
He could not speak of it. Nor could he remake himself to be less prickly and demanding than he knew himself to be. Opening his thoughts for his lover to identify what he would of Severus' emotions was his only concession.
Love. Remus knew that was what he felt towards Severus. Not the sort that went in, eventually, for china patterns and spoken vows. They had too much antagonism in their past, too many wounds that could never fully heal.
But there was no one else with whom Remus could imagine being, from whom he would feel the shattering pleasure that Severus always wrung from him. Those black eyes held fear and passion, pain and joy, in a mixture so heady that Remus felt almost drunk.
"Yes." He whispered the word softly. Taking or being taken, it was all the same.
Only two men had ever had sex with Severus. No women. He didn't regret it, exactly, but sometimes he wished he had more experience. Imagination and discreet research only went so far.
Although he loved it when Remus whispered dirty fantasies into his ear, Severus found it hard to reciprocate. He was more than willing to go along with what Remus wished, but it took Remus' insistence for Severus to admit to some of his own wishes.
"A collar," he muttered. "A leather one."
"In human form, or werewolf?" Remus' voice was calm. "I trust your potion completely; do you?"
Virility was not a concern for a werewolf. If anything, Remus usually wished that during the full moon he responded less to stimulation of all kinds. The ability to keep his human understanding, thanks to the Wolfsbane Potion, only made that aspect of the transformation worse, most months -- but this time was different.
Naked, he knelt, letting Severus fasten the thick leather around his neck -- loose now, but it would fit after the change. Already his senses were heightening; he could smell both arousal and fear as he put his arms around Severus' thighs and began to lick his cock.
Experience and reason said this was still Remus, though his form was different, and Severus himself had asked for it; yet now that the wolf stood before him, cold sweat dampened his body. Abruptly sitting, he put his arms around the furry neck, feeling the smoothness of the leather band.
The wolf whined, nuzzling Severus' chest. Remus trusted him, trusted his ability at potion-making. If he left now, it would deny all their history.
Severus stroked the familiar-unfamiliar cock, felt Remus' hot rough wolf tongue run over his skin. Perverse this joining might be, but in its own way, natural.