Originally posted at LJ on August 27, 2006

Title: The Thrill of Under Me You
Author: scribbulus_ink
Characters: Remus/Severus, Severus/Sirius, Remus/Sirius
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Sort of a threesome and role-playing
Kinks chosen: pandering
Word Count: 11,860
Summary: Negotiating a successful relationship between three emotionally guarded men with a tangled and painful history together is a path paved with pitfalls; Remus devises a plan he hopes will smooth it out a little.
Author's notes: This is a story about a threesome without a three-way. Overall, the story is Remus/Severus/Sirius, but in terms of sexual dynamics, it breaks down into 3 different pairings. The title comes from "i like my body" by e.e. cummings. Thanks to lore for beta-reading!
Additional note: I'm dedicating this story also as a belated birthday gift for karasu_hime. Muchly belated, I know, but hopefully it will be worth the wait. This isn't the story I'd originally planned to write, but it was so similar - minus mpreg - that I thought it would be repetitive to do both.

Part One | Part Two

Severus knew they were in trouble when Remus called a meeting at the dining table. Normally when there was a problem to be sorted out, Remus talked with them individually, or they discussed the matter in the parlor in comfort. Remus sat in his chair by the fireplace, Sirius sprawled on the floor at his feet, and Severus sat on the sofa, and there was tea, usually with biscuits. Severus rather doubted there would be tea and biscuits this time.

Remus' expression was somber as he sat at the head of the table. Sirius threw himself into the chair at Remus' right, slouching with his arms folded across his chest and a sullen look marring his fine-boned features, and his grey eyes had taken on the dark, ominous cast of a thunderstorm. Severus sat on the opposite side of the table from Sirius and put a chair between himself and Remus, his posture ramrod-straight and his hands folded neatly in his lap.

"I don't suppose I need to explain why I called this meeting," Remus said without preamble. His voice was as solemn as his expression, and the look he bestowed on them as he spoke was reproachful.

Severus returned it with a haughty stare and lifted his chin, but said nothing. Sirius only looked even more sullen, if that was possible.

"It's been three months," Remus said. This time, Severus thought he heard a weary edge in his voice. "I'd have thought you would both be above this childish brawling by now."

"He started it!" Sirius protested, pointing at Severus, who immediately puffed up and prepared to spit poison.

"You threw the first hex, you addlepated mutt!"

"Stop!" Remus held up both hands, the commanding tone they rarely ever heard from him quelling the row before it could get started. "I don't care who started it or why. We should be beyond this kind of behavior. You both agreed to give this arrangement a try, but things are no better now than before we moved in together."

Severus smoothed his ruffled feathers as Remus' words dredged up memories of that time. He remembered how apprehensive he had been as they made their plans, each of them contributing to the new household so their cohabitation would begin on equal footing. Severus had sold his house at Spinners End, Remus had contributed part of the bounty he had collected from the Ministry for killing Fenrir Greyback, and Sirius had paid his share from his old vault at Gringott's. Sirius and Potter had reached an agreement: Potter would keep #12 Grimmauld Place at Sirius' insistence if Sirius would take back his vault and all its contents at Potter's insistence. Sirius was proud, but he wasn't stupid; he knew he needed money to live on now that he was back from beyond the Veil, and he had accepted the bargain, although he had privately admitted to Remus and Severus that it hadn't been a hardship to give up the house.

The house wasn't large or lavishly furnished, but it accommodated their individual needs, and it was comfortable, by far the most cozy place Severus had ever lived. But in spite of having helped pay for and furnish the house and having a voice in managing the household, he still thought of it as a house rather than a home. That was, he knew, in large part due to the ongoing hostilities between himself and Sirius, but in spite of Remus' interventions and countless discussions, neither of them had broken the decades-old cycle.

"The bottom line is this," Remus said, his voice full of the quiet authority that let Severus know whatever Remus was about to say was set in stone. "I'm tired of being in the middle. I'm tired of being the lynch pin that holds this relationship together. I cannot do it any longer. I love you both, and the last thing I want to do is choose between you. I don't know how to begin trying to choose, and having to choose would break my heart, but things cannot continue as they have been. The two of you must find a way to connect with each other as well as with me, or this is simply not going to work."

Severus' insides froze, and he was certain his heart stopped beating at that pronouncement. He didn't want Remus to choose either, because he had no doubt that Remus would not choose him. He would be the one asked to pack his bags and leave, and Sirius would be the one whose gloating laughter would follow Severus out the door.

"Talking hasn't worked," Remus continued, blowing out a frustrated sigh as he glanced back and forth between the two of them.

Bowing his head, Severus studied his hands and wondered if perhaps he ought to spare himself the humiliation of being asked to leave and volunteer to go now.

"So I thought perhaps changing the way we do some things might help ease the tension between the two of you," Remus said, and Severus peeked at him from beneath his lashes, but he said nothing, merely waited.

"Such as?" Sirius spoke up, and to Severus' ears, he sounded both a little impatient and a little apprehensive.

"Such as our sleeping arrangement," Remus replied. "I'm always in the middle. I think we should switch who sleeps in the middle, perhaps every three nights or so."

There was a silence from the other side of the table, and then Severus could practically hear the insouciant shrug in Sirius' voice. "All right. If that's what you want."

"I hope it might help." There was another silence, and when Severus peeked again, he found Remus watching him with a questioning look, as if he wasn't certain how Severus was going to react to his suggestion. "Severus, what do you think?"

Privately, Severus thought it wouldn't make a damned bit of difference, but he shrugged, ignoring the way his stomach was roiling and clenching. "If that is what you want," he said in as noncommittal a tone as he could muster.

"It isn't just about what I want," Remus said, and Severus heard him sigh again. "It's about us - all three of us. I'm trying to do something to help. If either of you have any other suggestions to prevent our home from being a constant war zone, do feel free to chime in at any time."

That statement was met with resounding silence, and when Severus glanced up at last, he saw Remus nod before bracing his hands on the table and pushing himself to his feet.

"Right. We'll begin tonight. Sirius, you'll be in the middle for the next three nights. After that, it will be your turn, Severus. All right?"

"Fine." Sirius' response was clipped, and he looked about as pleased as Severus felt, which was surprising. Severus would have thought he'd be excited by the possibility of Severus being forced out so he could have Remus all to himself. It was, Severus thought, what Sirius had wanted all along.

"Fine," Severus said, schooling his features into a blank mask. "Are we finished? I have work to do."

Remus turned to him, eyebrows lifting in visible surprise. "We haven't had dinner yet."

"I need to finish some paperwork from the Twindle case last week," Severus replied, the lie flowing easily off his tongue.

It helped that he wasn't telling a complete falsehood. He did have paperwork to complete, but it was on his desk at the Ministry, and there was no particular reason for it to be finished tonight. Being a Hit Wizard was, in his opinion, much like being a double agent: long stretches of tedium and paperwork punctuated by bursts of adrenaline-pumping excitement and potentially life-threatening danger. But it paid well, and he didn't feel his talents were being wasted or unappreciated. On the contrary, the Ministry wanted to make certain his talents were being used in a way that was undeniably for their side.

"But tonight is our night," Remus said, looking uncertain for the first time during the discussion, and it gave Severus' petty, vindictive side satisfaction to see it.

He was tempted to reply that he had a headache, but after Remus' announcement, he wasn't inclined to rock the boat, especially not when he felt his odds of being tossed overboard were high enough as it was. But he couldn't keep up the pretense that he was fine rather than scared out of his wits. Not tonight. Not even though it meant giving up precious quiet, private time with Remus, knowing he wouldn't have the chance again until three nights hence.

Severus and Sirius had yet to spend any time alone together without one or the both of them ending up with spell damage; they certainly hadn't engaged in any intimacy, not even with Remus acting as the buffer between them. They were a threesome divided into two pairs, and Remus had insisted on a schedule, not only to prevent Severus and Sirius from squabbling over spending time with him, but - as he put it - to keep himself sane and not living on the point of exhaustion as well.

Thus it was that Remus had devised a schedule in which he spent an evening with Sirius, the next evening with Severus, and then took the third evening off from both of them. That way, they all had time to themselves, and Severus and Sirius couldn't argue over the other having more than his fair share of time with Remus.

How that time was spent varied from evening to evening, or at least it did with Severus. He didn't know how Remus and Sirius spent their time; he didn't dare ask lest he learn they had wild monkey sex every single time that left Remus exhausted but more satisfied than he was with Severus. As for Severus' time with Remus, sometimes they talked, sometimes they nestled quietly together in bed, and sometimes they had sex, depending on their mood and needs at the time.

Tonight, however, Severus knew he couldn't carry on a conversation as if everything was fine, and he couldn't go through the motions of intimacy with this sword hanging over his head, knowing it was doomed to fall. He was going to lose everything because he had a temper, he held grudges, and he and Sirius damned Black couldn't get along.

"I have work to do," he repeated, desperate to get away - to hole up in the solitude of his workroom, which even Sirius had the decency to respect, while he sorted through this mess and rebuilt his walls so he could continue to function without letting on to either of them that he was slowly bleeding to death while he waited for the inevitable to occur.

"Oh." Remus' expression shifted from uncertain to crestfallen. "Well, if it can't wait..." He mustered a half-smile. "Would you like me to bring you a tray later?"

"No." Severus shook his head. He couldn't swallow a bite past the tightness of his throat, much less keep it down. "I'm not hungry."

"All right." Remus nodded, and Severus could see Remus' own masks falling into place. "I suppose we'll see you at bedtime, then."

"I suppose."

A quick glance at the table showed Sirius was still sitting there, watching the exchange with the sullen look back in place, although why he was pouting when he was getting an extra night with Remus was something Severus didn't understand. He had expected Sirius to be dancing on the table by this point, but perhaps Sirius was annoyed by Remus' seeming disappointment.

But at this point, Severus didn't care about anything other than escape, and he pivoted sharply on his heel and strode away, his robes billowing as he stalked off to his workroom, head held high. He might be the one destined to be tossed out on his ear, but he damned well wasn't going to give either of them the satisfaction of seeing him suffer.

Immersing himself in the soothing bubble of his cauldron, he let his mind wander as he sliced, chopped, and stirred. It was tempting to enact the idea that had occurred to him earlier: leave before he could be thrown out. But if he was to lose what he wanted most, then perhaps it was best to sacrifice his pride and enjoy the time he had left. There would be plenty of time in the long, lonely years stretching out ahead of him to cling to his pride. Right now, it made more sense to take what he could get while he could get it.

Caught up in his own troubled thoughts and in the comfort of familiar work, he lost track of time, and when he finally thought to look at the clock, he found it was nearly midnight. Remus and Sirius would already be in bed; they had to work in the morning, too. Since the harsh werewolf employment laws had been tempered, Remus had been able to take a job working for Weasley Wizard Wheezes, albeit in product development rather than sales because having a known werewolf greeting the customers still wasn't the wisest idea.

Sirius had been so intrigued that he persuaded the twins to hire him as well, and he and Remus spent their days reverting to adolescence and devising endless pranks, japes and toys that would have made Severus' blood pressure skyrocket had he still been a teacher. As it was, he expressly forbade either of them to test any products on him at the risk of life and limb, and even Sirius had managed to resist the temptation to bring their work home, so to speak. But Severus had to admit they were well-suited for the job, and the Weasley twins were pleased and perhaps a little awed to have the creators of the infamous Marauders Map working with them. Everyone was happy with the arrangement.

Except Severus, who hated Weasley Wizard Wheezes, who couldn't contribute anything when Remus and Sirius discussed their work over dinner, and who burned with resentment when he thought about how perfectly their lives were in sync, right down to working together. He was the one who was out of step as usual. He simply didn't fit in. Not with them, either individually or together. Not at work, where he was still regarded with suspicion and given a wide berth. Not anywhere anymore.

It was enough to make him want to chuck it all and run off to Tahiti. Perhaps he would, once they dumped him.

He climbed the stairs and made his way to the bedroom slowly. The door was standing open, and they had left a lamp on for him, which was a bittersweet gesture at best since it allowed him to see how they were snuggled up together in bed. Sirius curled around Remus' body, the pair of them fitting together as if they had been made for each other. Sirius was a spooner; he liked nothing better than plastering himself against Remus' back and staying there all night, which was fine, because normally, Remus was in the middle, and Remus would spoon up against Severus. It was the one time of day when Severus felt connected to both of them.

But where was his place now? He and Sirius didn't touch each other during the day. How was he supposed to overcome that distance at night? With Sirius in the middle, Severus only had three options: take the risk of spooning against Sirius, keep to his side of the bed, or sleep downstairs on the sofa. Option one wasn't really an option. He doubted Sirius wanted him so close, and he wasn't about to take a chance and face certain rejection and recrimination. Option three would lead to Remus questioning him and probably A Talk, and he didn't want that either.

That left option two, and so he changed into his nightshirt and climbed into bed, pausing as he studied them, a little ache throbbing in the pit of his stomach; they had achieved the kind of connection and sense of belonging he longed for. He had thought he might find it here, but apparently not.

Severus stretched out his hand and let it hover just over Sirius' bare shoulder. He could close the distance between them, but then what? Sirius would probably wake up and snap at him to keep his greasy hands to himself.

He yanked his hand away and burrowed under the covers, rolling onto his side with his back to them and keeping close to the edge of the bed. It was the worst night's sleep he'd had in months. He slept fitfully and woke early even by his standards as a habitual early riser. He didn't bother trying to steal a few more winks as he might have done had they been in their usual position, which was warm and cozy and comforting.

Instead, he slid out of bed and made his way quietly down the corridor to the loo to bathe and dress, and then he went downstairs to prepare breakfast and leave it on the table protected by a warming charm. As he finished, he could hear bumping noises upstairs that signaled they had awakened at last, and he slipped away to the Ministry before either of them came downstairs.

The second night of Sirius sleeping in the middle was much like the first, and by the end of the third day, Severus was tired and cranky from lack of sleep. He dawdled and dithered in his little cubicle at the Ministry, not wanting to return to the house. It was Sirius' night alone with Remus, so he would be left to his own devices anyway, and once again, his options were limited. It wasn't as if he had friends he could visit; he had never really had friends, even before... Well, before. Since, the people he had once considered the closest thing he had to friends were either dead or distanced from him. They had accepted that he wasn't a traitor, but that he had killed someone who meant more to them than he did wasn't something most people could forget. There was no house where he could just pop round for a visit, no place where he would be unreservedly welcomed.

He finished trimming his quills and put them aside with a quiet sigh. His only other option was to spend the evening in his workroom again, but he wasn't eager to do that. He simply didn't want to go back to the house and face either of them. Not yet.

Instead, he sent a message via owl to let them know he would be home late. It had been drummed into his head during the first weeks of their relationship that one did not spend an evening out without letting one's house mates know, because it resulted in a barrage of questions and scolding about courtesy and not causing one's house mates undue worry. Given there were still a few of the Dark Lord's followers who had eluded capture and who would love to see the three of them dead - or in Sirius' case, dead again - Severus supposed they had a point.

He went to the Leaky Cauldron and ordered shepherd's pie and a pint, and then he ordered two more pints while he was delaying the inevitable. He was a lightweight when it came to alcohol, having abstained for most of his life - having one's wits muddled when one was a double agent was foolhardy at best and potentially fatal at worst - and he was pleasantly tipsy when he finally stopped stalling and returned to the house.

All was quiet downstairs when he let himself in, and he supposed they were upstairs in the second bedroom, which they referred to as the Assignation Room. Remus had insisted on the master bedroom remaining a neutral place for all of them to share, not to mention it could be awkward if two of them were indulging in intimacy and the third was ready to go to sleep. Thus they used the other bedroom as both a guest room and a place to have private time without the risk of inconveniencing anyone or subjecting them to a sight they had rather not see.

Severus didn't want to go upstairs and hear any telltale noises as he passed by the Assignation Room, so he went to the parlor and helped himself to the brandy instead. Eventually, he heard doors opening and closing and footsteps overhead, which meant they were probably finished doing whatever it was they had been doing, and it was safe to go upstairs. Severus wasn't in any rush, however; his limbs felt heavy, and moving seemed like too great an effort, and so he sat on the sofa and stared into the fire, his thoughts a messy jumble that he couldn't begin to sort out.

"You're home."

Remus' soft voice broke through Severus' reverie, and he rolled his head to peer blearily at Remus, who was standing in the doorway of the parlor wearing his faded flannel dressing gown and what appeared to be little else underneath. His hair was tousled, as if someone had been running their fingers through it, and Severus frowned and looked away.

"And you're pissed," Remus added, his voice laced with surprise.

"'M not," Severus retorted, refusing to look at Remus even when he moved to curl up on the sofa near, but not touching, Severus. "'M just relaxed."

"Very relaxed, by the look of things." Remus regarded him silently for a long moment before speaking again. "Any particular reason why?"

"Nothing else better to do." Severus shrugged and put his half-empty glass aside on the end table. Suddenly, he didn't want any more brandy.

"Finding ways to occupy your time has never seemed to be a problem before."

Severus shrugged again and said nothing. If he started to speak when alcohol had lifted the habitual restraints he kept on his tongue, there was no telling what might come out.

Sighing, Remus rose to his feet and grasped Severus' arm. "Come on. I'll help you to bed."

"No!" Severus yanked his arm free of Remus' grip. The flash of shocked hurt in Remus' eyes gave him a twinge of guilt, but not enough for him to turn docile. "I don't wanna go to bed."

Remus fixed him with another long, steady look. "We'll talk about this tomorrow."

"No." Severus lifted his chin proudly, enunciating each word carefully. "We will not. Talking doesn't solve shit."

Remus' lips thinned, and he raked one hand through his hair, tousling it even more. "I don't know what you want, Severus. I don't know what to do anymore."

"Nothing." Severus turned his face away, feeling exhausted down to his bones, and it wasn't just due to lack of sleep. "There's nothing."

He slept on the sofa that night - although passed out on it would be more accurate, he supposed - and breakfast the next morning was an awkward, silent affair with Remus quiet and withdrawn, Sirius looking as grim as he had during the year he'd spent cooped up in Grimmauld Place, and Severus feeling as if his eyeballs were about to pop out of their sockets. He stopped by the apothecary before he went to work to purchase something - anything! - to alleviate his hangover, but nothing could dispel the icy fist clutching his heart.

That night, it was his turn to sleep in the middle. He had come home on time and stayed away from beer and brandy, partly because he'd had enough alcohol to last him for a good long time, but mostly because he remembered enough to know he had made a mistake. Remus and Sirius' stilted behavior let him know they weren't happy with him, but he didn't know how to apologize or make things right.

He wasn't even certain things could be right again, if they ever had been in the first place. As much as he had wanted this, he didn't know what to do with it once he had it, and he was beginning to think he was better off alone. He didn't know how to conduct a relationship or have friends or do any other normal, healthy activity that involved other people. He wasn't used to having to compromise or change because there were people in his life who had to be taken into consideration. It was all new, unfamiliar territory for him, and it was strange and unsettling, and he didn't know what he was doing half the time.

He wasn't cut out for a relationship, especially not this one. He didn't belong here, and the point was driven home as soon as he walked through the door. Dinner was as uncomfortable as breakfast had been, all of them pointedly ignoring the white elephant in the room.

"It's our night tonight," Remus said in a too-casual tone while they were clearing away the dishes, and he didn't look at Severus as he spoke. "But I was wondering if we could defer it."

Severus went still, but then he forced himself to move and to breathe and to continue stacking the plates to take into the kitchen instead of hurling them at the wall. "Fine," he replied, his tone clipped. "If that's what you want."

It had been nearly a week since he'd had private time with Remus, but he supposed he didn't have any grounds for complaint since he had canceled the last time. Besides, he doubted they had anything to say to one another considering they hadn't been able to talk normally all day, and he wasn't in the mood for sex.

He tightened his jaw and focused intently on the task of clearing away the table, determined to shut out everything and everyone until he could get away and be alone. He was so intent on ignoring the rest of the world that the touch of Remus' hand on his arm caught him by surprise and made him flinch, and he grimaced, disgusted with his lack of control.

"I think we could all stand a break, under the circumstances. I hope you aren't angry." There was concern in Remus' voice, and any other time, it would have mollified Severus, but now, it just made him tired.

"I'm neither angry nor surprised," he said, moving away from the table - and Remus - and carrying the dishes into the kitchen, where Sirius was splashing water all over the counter with his vigorous dishwashing technique. Normally, Severus would have made a snide remark about it, but he couldn't muster the energy. Instead, he placed the dishes on the counter and departed, his role in the washing up process complete.

He remained in his workroom all evening, although he wasn't in the mood to brew anything; he sat and flipped through the latest Cauldrons Compendium and waited for the hours to pass. When it was bedtime, he went upstairs with Remus and Sirius; he couldn't dawdle since he was in the middle, and he would have had to crawl over one of them if he went to bed late.

He undressed in silence and climbed into bed, but there was no spooning that night. When they took their places on either side of him and rolled to face away from him, he lay on his back, alone, lonely, and frozen to the core, and he stared up at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep like this. He couldn't live like this.

Around three o'clock in the morning, Severus decided he'd had enough. He slipped out of bed and got dressed as carefully and quietly as possible, and he went downstairs to begin packing up his workroom. The chill of the still, cold hours before dawn seeped deep into his bones until he felt as if he would never be warm again, but he worked steadily, his mind blank as he went through the motions of packing like an automaton.

"Severus, what are you doing?" Remus stood barefoot on the chilly wood floor, bleary-eyed and sleep-tousled, but even though his voice was still drowsy-raspy, he sounded alarmed.

"I'm doing exactly what it looks like I'm doing," Severus replied without stopping or looking up.

"Why?" There was anguish underlying the single word that arrested Severus and made him look at Remus at last, and he was shocked to see abject misery in Remus' eyes. He had thought it would be a relief for all of them if he departed quickly and without a fuss.

"Like you said, this isn't working," he said, straightening as he turned to face Remus. "I thought it best to leave before I was asked to go."

"You're assuming I'd want you to go."

"Do you really expect me to believe you would choose me over him?" Severus didn't bother to temper his scathing tone.

"Do you really believe it would be so easy for me to choose?" Remus retorted, moving further into the room and bracing his fists on his hips. "I told you both that it would break my heart to choose, and I meant it. Losing one of you - either of you - would be like losing a limb, and I would feel the loss for the rest of my life. I don't know who I'd choose. I don't want to choose at all."

"All the more reason for me to make the decision for you." Severus turned away, viciously squashing the tiny flare of hope Remus' words evoked.

"Is it so easy for you to walk away from us, then? Away from me? Has this - have we - meant nothing to you?" Remus' voice was filled with pain, and Severus closed his eyes briefly, his heart wrenching in his chest.

"It is the most difficult thing I have ever had to do," he said quietly, only able to say the words because he wasn't looking at Remus. "But better that than continue to live like this. No matter what you might feel for me, I am the outsider here. You and he are longtime friends, you work together, you share common interests, and you are not damaged."

That evoked a bark of mirthless laughter from Remus. "A werewolf, an ex-convict brought back to life, and a former Death Eater - and you think we aren't all broken in our own ways?"

Severus shook his head and didn't answer, and after a moment, he felt Remus' presence close by followed by a light touch on his arm.

"I don't understand," Remus said softly. "Everything you said - everything you did - it made me believe you had feelings for him too."

"I did!" The words burst out before Severus could stop them, and he grimaced and turned away. "I do." It was the first time he had admitted the truth aloud, and he decided whoever had said the truth would set you free was full of shit. The truth was terrifying, especially when there was a damned good chance of it being flung back in your face.

Remus' slender fingers tightened on the sleeve of Severus' jacket, curling into the fabric. "I had made my peace with the loss. I was happy with the way things were between us. It was your idea to bring him back, not mine. You did the research. You told me it was possible."

"I thought you were pining for him!"

"No less than you were," Remus shot back, and Severus flinched at the well-aimed barb. "You wanted him back as much as I did, so why are you leaving? Why have you not been able to connect with him as you did with me?"

Severus drew himself up proudly. "Because I have no intention of subjecting myself to the humiliation of being rejected when it's clear he would prefer I was out of the way. He wants you, not me. He endures me because he has to in order to get what he really wants, but all I am to him is an obligation - an accouterment he must accept in order to be with you."

He had known the risk, of course. Just because he was responsible for bringing Sirius back from beyond the Veil didn't mean Sirius would view him in a different light. It didn't mean Sirius would find him attractive or suddenly desire him or that they could put the past to rest, and Severus could finally admit that he had wanted to kiss Sirius as much as he had wanted to kill him all these years. But for once in his life, Severus had been hopeful, even optimistic, and he had wanted to take the risk, not only for Remus, but for himself. It was bloody typical that his plan had backfired spectacularly.

Remus fell silent, gazing up at him with a speculative look in his eyes. "What if I can prove you aren't an obligation?" he asked at last, and Severus let out a scoffing noise. "I mean it. What if I can prove you're wrong about him?"

"I would say you're so desperate to make things work, you're grasping at straws." But Severus wasn't above a bit of straw grasping himself; as little hope as he had of things working out in his favor, he found himself listening rather than pushing Remus aside and resuming his task.

"Give me this weekend." Remus' expression shifted to the same focused intensity that Severus saw just before Remus fucked him through the mattress on those nights when Remus was feeling particularly randy or aggressive, and Severus shivered instinctively in response to the sight. "I have an idea, but I need time to implement it."

Severus hesitated, wavering in his resolve to give up and go. He didn't want to remain and end up humiliated, but if there was a chance...

"Very well," he said at last, and Remus closed his eyes, appearing to sag with relief. "One last chance. But if it doesn't work, I will leave on Monday."

"Fair enough." Remus nodded, and then he released Severus' sleeve and curved his arms around Severus' neck instead, shifting closer and pressing against him.

He nuzzled his cheek against Severus', and Severus closed his eyes, the familiarity of the gesture making him ache with longing even as the rasp of Remus' stubbled cheek sent a little ripple of pleasure down his spine. Before he could think twice about the wisdom of it, he wound his arms around Remus in return, pulling him closer, and he could feel Remus relaxing in his embrace. It felt so normal and so right that for a moment, he almost forgot his world was on the verge of falling apart.

"I'm sorry," Remus murmured, and then he pressed a kiss just beneath Severus' ear. "I was trying to make it better for all of us. I thought you were having trouble letting your guard down, but with enough time, you'd adjust and let go a little. I didn't realize I'd made things so much worse." He pulled back enough so he could look at Severus, regret clear to read in his blue-green eyes. "I shouldn't have put you off tonight, either."

The apology helped loosen the tight knot that had been constricting Severus' chest for the last few days, and he nodded an acknowledgment. When Remus slid one hand up to tangle it in his hair and drew him into a light, gentle kiss, he didn't resist. After days of discord, it was a relief to feel connected again, and Remus' touch was a soothing balm.

"Come back to bed," Remus murmured against his lips, and Severus' stomach clenched again.

"I don't want to be in the middle," he said tightly, remembering how awful it had been to lie there for hours with the two of them keeping their distance from him.

"You don't have to be," Remus reassured him, releasing him and stepping back before clasping his hand. "Please come to bed. We need it. I need it."

Severus nodded again and let Remus lead him back upstairs, relieved that he wouldn't face that awful situation again. He'd rather sleep on the cold floor of his workroom than endure that again. But it was Remus who took the middle spot, and when Severus climbed into bed, it was Remus who spooned up behind him, draping one arm across his waist and nestling close, and the tension that had plagued Severus for days was released on a shuddery sigh. He closed his eyes and reached for Remus' hand, drawing it closer and tighter around himself. He was too cynical and afraid to let himself hope Remus' plan would work, but at least he had more time with them, and perhaps there wouldn't be as much tension as there had been.


Part One | Part Two