Summersmut Mod (summersmutmod) wrote in hp_summersmut, @ 2008-08-10 12:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2008, remus lupin, remus/snape, severus snape |
[FIC] The Firsts: Snape/Lupin :: gift for zephre
Title: The Firsts
Author:
Recipient: zephre
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Rating: R
Word Count: 4,311
Warnings: Scenes of sexual nature, mild violence, very light bondage, and some foul language.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: After the War, and after Remus Lupin stumbles into his life, Severus Snape has a lot of firsts.
Author's Notes: Both Snape’s and Remus’s deaths in DH are disregarded, as well as Remus’s ever-existing relationship with Tonks and consequences thereof.
*
Went out for a little while. Not sure when you’re getting home tonight. Will be back late. Don’t wait up!
~*~
The first time they were really forced together was when Remus stumbled into his office in the middle of the night and asked for the Wolfsbane potion. Severus threw a piece of paper with instructions at him irritably and told him that a Wizard of his ability should be able to brew one himself. Remus stalked out without a word, clutching the piece of paper so desperately Severus felt the kind of guilt one feels kicking a homeless puppy looking for comfort on the streets.
Severus had chosen to continue to teach Potions, gladly handing over the still forced on him position of Headmaster, and Remus settled in a small house near Hogwarts, and was talked into coming back to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. Severus scoffed and growled under his breath, but accepted it silently otherwise. The position was open to him if he wanted it, but after everything, Severus didn’t really want it anymore. All he desired was to go back to what he was used to, drown himself in the familiar, suffer through lessons during the day and indulge himself with his favourite task of brewing during the night.
It was two nights later that Severus ran down the corridor on one of his nightly patrols because of a sound of a distinct explosion in one of the classrooms on the third floor. He expected to find a student or two, scared and possibly injured, but only found a dark classroom, one lone candle burning on the table, and Remus in the corner clutching his head in his hands. To not walk out right then and there was one of the biggest efforts Severus had ever had to make. Convincing himself that it was only for the sake of the safety of the Hogwarts staff and students that he was going to help, he strolled over the cauldron and began explaining slowly all the things that Remus did wrong. The latter looked shocked at the intrusion, but listened without interrupting.
It took more nights that Severus ever realized it could take to learn a simple potion. He knew for a fact Remus was great at Potions back in school, and was in generally well-versed in all his classes. He wasn’t the best, but he learned fast, studied hard, and was diligent and sincere in his efforts. But this one potion he seemed to be unable to master.
“What the bloody hell, Lupin?” Severus growled at him when Remus dropped the ingredients into the cauldron fifteen seconds too early, causing the concoction to bubble and turn a violent red color. “It’s a complicated potion, but you’re not a first year. You’re not even a seventh year! How many times do I have to show you?”
Remus was silent for a long time, and Severus had assumed he wasn’t going to speak. But he did.
“I’m too distracted and afraid of meddling it up,” he said quietly, and Severus raised an eyebrow. “As well, I don’t want to have to brew it alone.”
“Because you oh so enjoy our time together?” Severus barked, laying out the ingredients all over again neatly on the table.
“Because if you do it, or you’re here when it’s made, I know it will be right. And I can’t afford for it not to be. Can you imagine the possible consequences of this potion not working at all?”
Severus chopped the roots slowly. He knew. He understood, as shocking as the feeling was. Deep inside, he was also afraid of leaving Remus to make it by himself. Who only knew what harm he could cause when there were no more Marauders to hoard him around?
They didn’t speak of it a word more than that, but from then on they met on the same day of the month and brewed the potion together. Remus did, and Severus watched. With time, Remus did not make one single mistake, and Severus could dare say that perhaps with this potion only, Remus was getting as good as him. But he never brought it up. He scoffed and lectured for the most useless and irrelevant missteps, and eventually stopped thinking about whether it was time for them to stop their sessions. They were always quiet, they barely ever talked. They brewed and chopped side by side, not looking at each other most of the time, their hands brushing over the cauldron or reaching for the knife or ingredients.
It fitted into Severus’s routine, and he never questioned routine. He did it. It made him calm and organized, and kept everything tucked away neatly in the trunks of his mind. Most of the time, he forgot Remus was even by his side, but something deep inside him knew he enjoyed a presence. Whether it was Remus’s in particular or just any in general, he didn’t know. He didn’t want to question and discover something he would have to deal with. It was too simple at the moment, and he could live with that.
~*~
The first time they found each other naked in the bed at the break of dawn was completely illogical. They barely discussed that first timeafter even the first few years later, when they could afford to look back at it with a sort of sentimentality. They were both pretty surefor months afterwards, through many passionate encounters and screamed and whispered endearments and obscenities, that that first time wasn’t meant to happen, was as big a mistake as either could ever be capable of making, was wrong, and should never be repeated... never again, just after this one.
Remus didn’t show up for the first time in four months to brew, and that was troublesome. He wasn’t the kind of person to not call ahead, or send some kind of indication, and Severus hated the fact that he was actually bothered. What he should’ve done was shrug and walk away. If Remus didn’t bother to be on time, what the hell did he care? It wasn’t for his own amusement that Severus dragged himself out of bed in the middle of the night to do this.
Instead of doing what he should have done, he waited. And waited. And waited. Until he found himself alone in the classroom, three hours later, wide awake and worried. He knew it wasn’t time for transformation yet, though it was looming, and werewolves turned on a strict schedule. He had seen Remus at dinner, and he looked cheerful and alert. Not at all tired, sickly, or disoriented in any way. In fact, he looked almost more alert than usual.
He made his way stealthily to where Remus’s room was located, not far away from the Common Room in the Gryffindor Tower. It was quiet, but to be seen there would be very unseemly for him, and he stepped lightly, listening intently for any sign of Peeves, Filch, Mrs Norris, or a wondering ghost. He didn’t even know why he was doing this, really. To yell at him, he thought to himself sternly. Not at all to make sure he’s not hurt in any way, a sarcastic little voice at the back of his mind sounding suspiciously like Sirius Black whispered, which he immediately stifled and buried.
He didn’t bother to knock. Manners were never at the top of his list to begin with, and whatever Remus found more important than meeting an engagement with him, Severus wanted to find him smack in the middle of it, red-handed. The last thing he expected was to find Remus sprawled on his bed, sleeping soundly. It wasn’t like Remus to forget, and it quickly became evident by the stack of books and essays beside him on the bed that he must have nodded off and then sank into a deep sleep without intending to.
A mistake Severus had to admit he’d made himself on more than one occasion back when he was a less seasoned professor, but that realization was incapable of overriding his displeasure at being stood up because Remus fell asleep. Who marked essays in bed, anyway?
He levitated the books off the bed along with the essays towards the table, and then let them drop with a tremendous crash that made Remus jump a few feet in the air before stumbling off the bed and, in a clumsy attempt to shield himself and get away from
the commotion, tumbled to the floor at Severus’s feet. If Severus could let himself, he would laugh until tears stung his eyes at such unsightliness, but instead he pursed his lips and continued glaring at Remus as the latter picked himself up the floor slowly and steadied himself on his feet.
Severus expected an apology as he explained through clenched teeth what had happened on behalf of Remus’s complete carelessness and disregard for other people’s time, but what happened was indeed unexpected. Remus started speaking in a quiet, terrifyingly calm voice about the invasion of his privacy. Severus sensed something was wrong immediately. And, with a quick calculation, he figured out what it was. This month, they had agreed, due to very unfortunate timetable mismanagement, to brew the potion later in the month than they usually did, and the date was mere couple of days away from Remus’s turning.
Severus realized quickly that he didn’t usually get to see Remus much at all in the last couple of days leading up to his transformation. The beast inside him was asleep but stirring, and it overtook Remus’s usually calm, complacent personality. It wasn’t a drastic change, but looking at him, Severus was sure it was the usually laid back, easily manipulated Remus Lupin who hid his eyes and gave in on more occasion than one when he should not have. This was Remus Lupin under the slight influence of his own darker side. The more aware, confident, predatory side.
It wasn’t long before they were yelling, and Severus found himself clutching his wand under his robes protectively. The argument had escalated, and neither was willing to give in. Severus was still Severus, taken aback or not, and Remus was in a stage where, for once, he didn’t want to give in. Felt the need to be the Alpha male. When Severus had pushed Remus away lightly, finding the other too close for comfort, he hadn’t anticipated that it would be taken as a direct attack and provocation. Remus lunged back, but the punch Severus was sure coming for his stomach never landed. Instead, they smashed into the wall very far behind them, and Severus could suddenly feel Remus`s hot breath everywhere.
He knew what was happening then, and knew even clearer that he was making no move to stop it. If anything, he was being quite helpful in getting both their clothes off. Getting their naked bodies as close to each other as possible seemed prevalent. His logic went out the window. He found that he couldn’t really think clearly. Didn’t want to. It felt good. He could think about the consequences later, when his mind wasn’t over clouded by lust.
That night, when he came inside him, Severus growled “Just for tonight in Remus’s ear, and the latter nodded breathlessly. He whispered the same thing to him on the brink of orgasm most every night after that.
~*~
The first time Severus found that he had to admit to himself that what was supposed to be nothing had indeed turned into something along the way was when, after a more than satisfying shag, Remus had curled up beside him with a book, and Severus stretched out on the bed, his hand in Remus’s hair lazily. It wasn’t the first time they read, talked or relaxed after sex – it happened gradually from bolting from each other’s bed in shame after an orgasm to going to bed and waking up together – but it was the first time that Severus realized that this wasn’t the kind of thing shag-buddies did.
It was the kind of thing couples did.
He hadn’t considered it before, but they had become more comfortable around each other than Severus even felt alone, with himself, most of the time. They talked about students, courses, mutual acquaintances. Severus had even learned to smirk at Remus’s jokes. They bickered a lot, but even that had become a routine. A well-rehearsed play they kept up to convince themselves they were still where they started, arch enemies since childhood, highly unimpressed with each other, and doing it for nothing but sexual relief.
But things were drastically different. They ran into each other by accident much more often, and then walked together and conversed, if grudgingly. They started to coincidentally eat meals, mark papers in the library and Staff Room and take free periods at the same time. Sometimes, it would be a very lengthy interval of time before one of them remembered that they weren’t supposed to get along and pick a petty fight. They argued half-seriously for a while before going back to calmly discussing whatever was interrupted by the necessary act of mutual dislike.
They didn’t talk about what they meant to each other, or what they were – boyfriends, friends or lovers. Severus hated titles, but knew that it didn’t matter if no one ever said it. They were a couple not unlike any other. They shagged and sometimes, they
made love, though he hated to call it that and always insisted to himself that they were both too tired for roughhousing, which accounted for the gentleness.
Severus knew Remus better than he had known anyone to that point. He could read him with a glance, no Occlumency required. Every one of his moves; a shake of his head, a motion of his hand or just a pointed look was enough. And, to his surprise, he learned that Remus had learned to read him too. No one else had in his life, or maybe no one else just bothered.
They didn’t have the big conversations, but came to mutual conclusions and decisions without words. After a year and a half, they started to be seen in public together. They didn’t hold hands or kiss, and their friends thought it was a strange and unlikely friendship and comradeship that they had managed to form in the aftermath of the War after working together, but for them it was the first move to accepting what they had become. Someone, Severus realized, who one day wouldn’t have a problem with the world knowing that they were together.
~*~
The first time that Severus realized that Remus did not, perhaps, share his contentment of their situation and they were not exactly on the same page as he had previously thought was at a very crowded, loud and cheerful Weasley dinner, which was more of a reunion, if now a monthly tradition, than anything else. The whole Weasley family was there, as well as Hermione and Harry and a few others.
More food than anyone could ever finish was being passed around, and people took turns updating the unofficial family of their lives, going in a circle. Severus shook his head sharply when all the pairs of eyes landed on his expectantly, and they immediately glided over to Remus. He smiled in the characteristic tired smile of his and talked about the way Hogwarts was getting on, the new improvements McGonagall had attempted, and the new illegal creatures Hagrid was mating in what he was sure was absolute secrecy in the Forbidden Forest.
“What about a nice girl?”
It was George, of course, who lacked any kind of tact, but though Molly scowled at him, they were still staring at him, all obviously glad someone had asked and now Remus had no choice but to answer. He shook his head slowly, and Severus could see he was making the utmost effort not to glance at him for any confirmation.
“We’re not trying to pry, dear,” Molly piped in, “and we all know how... difficult it is for you, this kind of thing, but I really think you would benefit from a little family of your own. And I know how you feel about having children,” she hurrdied to add when Remus’s face darkened, “but even a wife, a sense of unity, someone to love you and be yours is something that could change your life, I think. Don’t you want a family?”
Severus waited for a response which he was sure was as clear as day, but it never came. He was shocked to see that Remus wasn’t answering. That No I am most certainly not looking for something like this was not readily firing out of Remus’s mouth the second Molly stopped speaking, as it should have been.
“I don’t think it’s in the stars for me, Molly,” he finally replied, and everyone at the table shifted awkwardly and nodded, moving on from the uncomfortable topic immediately by asking Harry about his Auror training.
Severus tried to catch Remus’s eyes, but they were directed down at his food, which he didn’t even touch, for the remainder of the evening. Even when Severus placed his hand into Remus’s in a very uncharacteristic moment of tenderness hoping to get some reaction, Remus just squeezed it lightly before turning away completely to talk to Ron.
Severus spoke to no one, but couldn’t help but notice Hermione staring at them piercingly across the table. Knowingly. He hated the girl for being so clever and fast on the uptake. He kind of admired her for it, too, but not in any way he’d ever admit or linger on.
When they were enclosed safely by the walls of the bedroom, Severus had attempted to ask. He hated how Remus had him curious. Confused. His attempts at a conversation were stifled by Remus’s desperate kisses, and all too soon he was too lost in the other man’s body to ask any serious questions. He knew, even through his blinding want, that Remus was avoiding the conversation this way. He didn’t bring it up again and they continued their routine as usual.
~*~
The first time Severus knew he was not only able, but perhaps willing to give Remus what he never thought he’d ever have to offer was when he accidentally stumbled on a small square green mahogany box while going through his less than often used drawers.
It was his mother’s. When he was young and in school, he took it out often and imagined presenting it to someone who, as his mother had said when she passed it on to him, was worthy of his heart. After Lily had walked out of his life, he stopped looking at it. By the time he had his Dark Mark emblazed on his arm it was angrily shoved in a place he rarely looked. He was certain at that time that he’d never need it, and did not want a reminder of the fact.
Since then, he moved it around a couple of times when changing living quarters, but always looked the other way as he carelessly tossed it from drawer to drawer or from trunk to trunk. At his age, he didn’t even think about the fact that he would never let it fulfill its purpose bitterly anymore. It wasn’t meant to happen. He even allowed himself so laugh wryly at himself when no one was around when he thought of the possibility of there being someone out there who would ever come close to the image his mother had painted for him when she gave it to him. And now it seemed he found someone after all.
The ring was beautiful. He remembered, as a child, his mother taking it out of the box and looking at it on more than one occasion when she thought no one could see. It had one round green diamond, supported on either side by two smaller silver crystals. His father had never laid eyes on it. He didn’t understand their ways, and didn’t belong to the world where the ring, and the name the ring represented, was so much more than just a pretty piece of jewellery.
Severus looked at it for a long time when he took it out of the box for the first time in many years. His mother had told him to find a girl who would make him happy, who would see him for the wonderful kind person he was, and who he felt like sharing everything that mattered to him with. He had changed a lot since he was a little boy. More than once he thought of his mother, and was sure she might be disappointed in the man he turned out to be. But Remus was as close to what she wanted for him as it would ever get. He made Severus content, and that was the closest feeling to happiness he’d felt for decades, and he saw him exactly for who he was and stuck around anyway. That was quite something. And as little as Severus had to his name aside from his titles and gold he already shared with Remus.
It pained him to alter it, but he had to alter his mother’s hopes and dreams for him, too, so it was only matching. He took it to a jeweller in Diagon Ally and gave him specific instructions on how to re-mould it, re-shape it and re-make it. He ran into McGonagall outside of the store and she raised an eyebrow questioningly. She was too polite and controlled to pry openly, and her subtle hints that tried to make Severus confess what he was doing at a jeweller`s failed magnificently, met by Severus`s impenetrable front. She walked away rather confused, though she didn`t show it, and he chuckled at the probability of the old woman having a stroke when she finally found out what the purpose of his visit had been.
It was when he had the ring ready and his mind set on his goal that he realized that things of this nature had a special way about them that he didn`t even begin to think through. All he had left is to actually do it, but how turned out to be a more pressing matter than he’d imagined.
He carried the ring around for four months after the fateful Weasley dinner. Remus had become quieter somehow. Sadder. Something weighed on him, and the weight became heavier every day. Severus knew it had something to do with the prospect of a family becoming dimmer and sizzling down to nothing. He remembered the feeling.
It was during yet another passionate night when it came out. Unwanted. Uncalled for. Remus’s eyes were clouded with lust, but as the haze lifted and Severus slowed his movements, Remus’s eyes carried so much sadness that even for a man without a heart the sight would be heartbreaking, much more so for a man who only pretended to not have one.
“Marry me.” Barely even spoken, but powerful enough to make Remus’s eyes grow to twice their size, now completely alert. “Marry me.”
His lips crashed down on Remus’s before any reply could be made. This wasn’t a question. Severus wasn’t prepared to listen to Remus’s fears and concerns and insecurities. It was a statement. He didn’t need a reply. The reply was evident in the hungry reply of Remus’s lips.
*
Severus scowled at the piece of paper in his hands, folded it, threw it on the table, picked up his cup of coffee and settled into an armchair. He laid his head back on the head-rest and closed his eyes, waiting. He was always very good at waiting. Two hours, and he didn’t move a muscle, his breath even and in sync with the rising and falling of his chest. An onlooker would say he looked like he was sleeping. A more experienced one would sense that he was more like an animal waiting to pounce. His fingers, barely moving, were tapping out a familiar tune.
The sound of the keys in the lock made him snap his eyes open and leave the chair in one fluid movement. He waited patiently while Remus fumbled with his coat in the corridor, his wand out, his fingers still tapping out the melody against his side. The moment Remus appeared around the corner he found himself bound to the wall.
“Cut it out.” Remus chuckled, but didn’t fight against the restraints. Severus had his own way of having certain conversations.
“Got your note,” Severus growled, approaching the other man and pressing their bodies together slowly, causing Remus to produce a quiet moan and then bite his lip quickly. Severus smirked. “Don’t wait up, I think it said. You know how I don’t appreciate stupid jokes.”
Remus fought back a smile and Severus growled in frustration, pressing his hip into Remus’s erection.
“No laughing,” he warned quietly and bit Remus’s neck roughly.
Severus was awake long after Remus had passed out in his arms, spent, panting, and still whimpering slightly. It wasn’t the first anniversary they had celebrated. It was the fifth year that they re-enacted that night – picking a fight and then shagging it right. It always seemed the most matching way to commemorate their first night. But it was another first. Severus could feel it stuck in his throat, itching to get out even though he tried his hardest to stifle it.
“I love you.”
The three words, said for the first time in his life, went unheard and answered. It set up another first to look forward to. One day, Severus would actually master up his strength to break through his own pride and say it when his husband could hear it. For now, it was enough.