Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: r_grayjoy
From: sabethea

Title: Complicated
Characters/Pairings: Severus/Remus
Rating: NC17
Kinks/Themes Included: hair pulling, slamming up against walls, partially clothed need-it-now sex
Other Warnings/Content: none
Word Count: 1391
Summary/Description: Remus and Severus could both have done without a passionate Seventh year relationship – except neither Remus nor Severus seems to be able to do without their passionate Seventh year relationship...
Author's Notes: Big big thanks to [temporarily anonymous beta] for a fantastic beta job at the last minute! Giftee, I had great fun with this.




“It's complicated.” Whenever Remus imagines trying to tell James – worse, Sirius – about his relationship (or whatever it is) with Severus Snape, this is always the phrase he starts out with. Complicated. Well, that's one word for it.

Hot, desperate, needy, wanting. Those are other words, perhaps more accurate. Remus – and he suspects Severus also – would much prefer to have a calm, cool relationship with someone more suited to him. If he could take up with Peter, say, or better still that friend of Lily's who Sirius swears has the best breasts he's ever seen – that would be so much more convenient. But no. It didn't happen that way, did it? It happened that he fell for Severus so hard and so fast and so lustfully he's sometimes frightened by the need.

Remus can feel the feverish beating of his heart, and is not sure whether it's fear of being caught or the thought of Severus being there soon.

He waits. He waits, and the beating of his heart slows down in time; and then speeds up again as he realises what has happened. Severus is late.

Severus is late, and Severus is never late. It takes his non-appearance for Remus to realise how much he relies on this, how much he needs this. Needs Severus. Needs what they have. What if he doesn't come? What then? What will ---

Remus's thoughts are interrupted by Severus pushing open the door and slipping into the room. Remus wants to say something of what he's been thinking, about how important Severus is to him. What comes out is:

“You're late.”

“Yes.” Severus pushes back sweat-slicked strands of hair from his face, and says, “Your friends were around. I had to avoid them.”

Remus feels sick. “They're not heading this way?” The last thing he needs is for James and Sirius to find Severus with him. Worse, find Severus in him.

“No.” Severus is curt. “They were heading out of the school. You needn't worry you'll have to feel ashamed of me.”

“I'm not ash--”

“Don't.” Severus's interruption sounds angry, but when Remus looks at his face, he sees the unhappiness Severus is fighting to disguise. Severus's mouth works for a few seconds, before he continues, his voice calmer, cooler. “Well. Since we're both here, we might as well get what we came for.”

Remus feels guilt pounding through his veins like poison. “It's not like that.”

“Isn't it?”

Severus doesn't give him an opportunity to answer, instead pushing him hard against the wall and taking possession of Remus's mouth in a kiss which is more than just a kiss; is domination and anger in sensual form. And Remus, as he always does, gives way to the possession, his soft mouth contrasting with his hardening cock. He once nearly killed Severus. He once nearly killed him, and that knowledge stains their relationship, making Remus even more gentle, even more eager to please but not to dominate, than he might otherwise have been. He's been told it's not his fault, by so many people (though not by Severus); but it feels like his fault. He would have done it; he would have been the one to strike another human being down, to destroy him.

“Please,” Remus murmurs, pulling Severus close and kissing his way up the sharp plains of Severus's jaw.

Severus's fingers twist in Remus's hair, yanking hard at it, and forcing his head to one side. “Please what?” Severus whispers in Remus's ear, before biting down on the lobe.

Please make me come, I don't care how. Remus can't say that, though; he despises himself enough already.

“I want you,” he says.

“Yes?”

Severus thrusts his hips forward against Remus's, at the same time leaning back so that he can stare into Remus's eyes. He thrusts again and again, and Remus stops thinking about anything except –

“Yes – more – oh Merlin, yes – please.”

Bodies rubbing together. That intense look of concentration on Severus's face, which makes him look... not handsome, nothing could do that... but magnetic. Desirable. Downright fucking sexy. Remus could drown in that expression and be grateful to do so. He could stay like this forever, but...

“Oh God, yes.”

The words whimper out of Remus's throat as Severus flicks a button of Remus's robes apart and slips a hand inside his pants, grasping his erection. Severus is always so careful of the robes, no matter how involved he is. There is no tugging apart, no pinging of buttons or tearing of material. Severus treats Remus's robes with a respect he doesn't give the young man himself; when he has time to consider it, Remus thinks that perhaps this is fair enough. And anyway, he doesn't want Severus's respect, he wants... Severus moves his hand up and down Remus's shaft and Remus doesn't give a flying fuck about anything but that.

“Do you know,” Severus says, his breath coming out in spurts, “how wanton you look when I do this? How desperate?”

“I am.”

Severus has stopped moving, and Remus thrusts against his hand, wanting more. Always wanting more.

“Desperate for me,” Severus adds.

Remus is almost whining with frustration, barely able to speak through the fog of need. “I am,” he says again.

“Say my name.”

“What?” Remus's eyes had closed, but they flick open again.

Severus squeezes hard on his cock with one hand; the other hand goes to Remus's throat, pushing his head around so that they are staring into each other's eyes.

“Say. My. Name,” he enunciates clearly. “Say who you're desperate for.”

“You.” Remus is bucking against Severus, but Severus is merciless. His hand stays wrapped around Remus's erection, but he will not move, will not do anything more until Remus does his bidding. “You, Merlin, Severus, God, you. Severus, please.”

“God.” Severus laughs. It is a rare sound. “I like that.”

His hand moves faster, and his mouth descends to Remus's, taking away Remus's remaining breath and leaving him clinging to Severus as the only thing which is keeping him upright. Then Remus comes, his eyes squeezed tight with only a couple of tears sliding through, his cock jerking and spurting in Severus's grasp.

Almost as soon as he's recovered himself, Remus is sliding to his knees in front of Severus, his fingers equally painstaking with the buttons on Severus's robes, his mouth rougher, greedier, as he pushes away Severus's pants and takes Severus's cock inside. Sometimes he's not sure which he loves more, coming for Severus or making Severus come for him. The feel, the taste, the weight of Severus's cock in his mouth. The smell of arousal emanating from him. Severus's fingers once more entwined in Remus's hair, jerking his head back and forth, controlling, controlling. Severus loves control, Remus loves the knowledge that he's doing Severus's will, that Severus wants this so much. Wants him.

The taste of him. God, the taste of him. Remus swirls his tongue around Severus's cock, eager for as much as he can get of that taste. But Severus has passed the stage of wanting gentle discovery; he forces Remus's head back and forth, thrusts into his mouth over and over and over, hard and fast and almost painful, until he halts, shudders, and Remus's mouth fills with Severus's come. He swallows, a little trickling over his chin. Severus has taken his hands from Remus's hair, has them both pressed, palms flat, against the wall above Remus.

For a second they stay like that, as if frozen in the moment; then Severus shrugs away from Remus, tucks himself back together. Remus pushes himself up from the floor and wipes the semen from his face. They look at each other in silence. Remus smiles, almost like an offering, but Severus turns away.

“Again?” asks Remus. “Soon?”

Severus turns back towards him, his eyes black and unfathomable. “I imagine so,” he says. Then, unexpectedly, “Thank you.”

He is gone before Remus knows how to respond to this. Remus stands and watches as Severus leaves the room, leaves Remus.

Above all, it is complicated.