iamisaac - provoking the wolf For: snapelike Prompt:I want... Snape! And Lupin! Werewolf bonding, and a vuuurrrrry demanding Lupin, a not entirely nice one (one who's still in lurve with Sevvie, mind). Or a Snape who researches werewolf bonds and lures Lupin into one - not entirely unwilling. Pairing: Severus/Remus Rating: R Word Count: ~2000
“Lupin.” Severus’s expression could hardly have been described as welcoming; but then Remus wasn’t particularly thrilled to end up on Snape’s doorstep himself.
“Well, you remember my name. That’s a start.” Remus was sick of doing the conciliatory thing and getting no response. “Are you intending to let me in, as well?”
“Why, yes.” Severus glanced down at his watch. “Wednesday, 7pm. I always hold open house for werewolves at this time. I see word has got around.” He stepped away from the doorway and ushered Remus in with a jerk of his head. “Sitting room on the left. Please, make yourself at home.”
Looking around, Remus could see why Severus had not used the phrase “make yourself comfortable.” Comfort was certainly at a new low in this room; and, from what he had seen of it as he passed through, the whole house looked dilapidated and unloved. Dusting a seat down with the sleeve of his robe, he sat cautiously, wondering whether the chair would hold his weight or whether it would precipitate him in undignified fashion onto the floor.
“How fastidious you are,” Severus said dryly. “A curious trait in someone who is, after all, no more than an animal at certain times of the month.”
Remus bit his tongue firmly. Severus was deliberately attempting (and, if truth be known, succeeding) to provoke him, but since he had come to ask a favour of the other man, Remus could not afford to take the bait.
“It makes me all the more inclined to live in pleasant surroundings when the moon is not full.”
“And to think I had heard that you had been spending time with your kin,” said Severus. “Or are all werewolves as finicky as you appear to be?”
There was a second – several seconds – when punching Severus seemed a more satisfying plan than asking for help, but Remus resisted. Just.
“You know the answer to that,” he said tightly.
“So, what can I do for you? I presume you have not just come for the pleasure of my company?”
“‘Dry as a remainder biscuit after a voyage,’” said Remus obscurely; then, catching Severus’s expression, almost smiled. “A Muggle author’s words, you understand – some fellow called Shakespeare. I merely thought it encapsulated your attitude rather well.”
“I am flattered that you study me in such detail,” snapped Snape. “How do you desire me?”
Remus had a sudden, and most inappropriate, vision of Severus, naked, awaiting his desire. It was an unnervingly appealing thought.
“Um...” He squeezed his eyes shut for a second to dispel the image, only managing to see it more clearly in his mind. Worse, there was a terrible temptation to tell Severus in great and loving detail precisely how he could desire him. “Er...”
“Well. That makes everything clear.”
And really, this was not the moment to feel his cock throbbing. Not a good moment to consider ripping Severus’s clothes from him and fucking him into submission; making his sarcastic rejoinders disappear as he could do nothing but cry out Remus’s name, begging for more - more...
Something of his thoughts – not, Remus fervently trusted, the nature of them – clearly showed in his face, because Severus looked... almost hesitant for a second, before recovering himself to snap, “Well?” once more.
“Very well,” said Remus slowly, finding himself standing but with no memory of having stood up. He moved towards Severus, the wolf-like, predatory side of him uppermost for a few uncontrolled seconds.
“Lupin!” There was a tiny trace of anxiety in Severus’s voice: in usual conversation, Remus wouldn’t have noticed it, but this was far from usual.
Remus met Severus’s eyes. “Yes.” It wasn’t a query, more a demand. Remus could physically feel the psychic barriers that Severus was raising, and that in itself was fascinating. What did Severus so desperately want to hide from him?
“This is...” Severus faltered. Undoubtedly he faltered. “What do you want?” he asked, almost angrily.
Remus smiled. Foolish, foolish, Severus.
“You.”
Severus took a pace backwards and glared at the intruder.
“Enough of this,” he whispered. “Enough of this... mockery. Did I not suffer enough at the hands of your friends in my time?”
“Oh,” said Remus coolly, “but I’m not teasing. Not at all.”
With a suddenness that took both men by surprise, he bridged the distance between them and kissed Severus ruthlessly, his hand slipping behind the other’s neck to prevent his escape. After the first second, when Severus was rigid with shock, Remus found his partner surprisingly docile; almost (though Remus must be imagining things) welcoming. When he raised his head, Remus kept his grip on Severus, not prepared to let him retreat.
“What do you think you are doing?” hissed Severus.
“Something I clearly should have done a long time ago.” Remus was thoughtful. “It’s been brewing for a while, you know.”
“Your desire to humiliate me has been present since we were children,” said Snape bitterly. “You merely find different ways of satisfying yourself.”
“Satisfied? No, not yet,” Remus said. “Humiliation...? Unless you get hard for that, I can’t see the need. Desire? Oh yes.” He nuzzled at Severus’s neck before biting him hard, leaving a mark. “Definitely desire.”
“Lupin...!” Then, more tentatively (surely the first time that word could be used of Severus Snape), “Remus?”
“Yes, Remus.” Remus forced Severus’s face round so that their eyes met. “Be in no doubt of that. No doubt of who it is that’s taking you; no doubt at all that I want you, and want you badly. This is no twisted revenge, Severus. This is passion, this is desire. This is pure, hot, sex. Don’t try and pretend it’s anything else. Don’t try and pretend that I’m anyone else. You’re going to let me fuck you, and you’re going to let me because you want it as desperately as I do. Now, deny it.” Severus said nothing, and Remus nodded. “Slytherin or not, you were never a good liar. Not really, when it mattered.”
And they were kissing; kissing as only two men could, their bodies hard and tight against each other, the pressure of the kiss painful, even punishing. Remus could feel Severus’s arousal in the bulge that nudged against his thigh; knew that Severus was equally aware of his own erection. He slid his hands underneath the shoulders of Severus’s robes, pushing them downwards until the closeness of the two of them was the only thing that kept Severus from standing naked in front of him.
“I don’t...”
Remus growled. “Don’t say that. I can see you do.”
“I...”
“Yes.” And he was doing as he’d so recently imagined: ripping the clothes from Severus to leave him nude and exposed. “Yes,” said Remus again. “Now, Severus, now. Tell me you want this.”
“Remus...” But the antagonistic note was fading, and when Remus pounced to kiss his rival, Severus was weak, weak, giving in to the pressure, folding himself against Remus.
“You want this,” Remus insisted; and Severus could not deny it.
“Remus.” And his name on Severus’s lips was acceptance; was more than acceptance, was a plea.
The wolf growled inside Remus and was appeased by his victim’s compliance.
“I will, Severus,” he promised. “I will take you.”
“And if I...” Severus’s black eyes flickered. “If I say I don’t want you?”
Remus had to strain to prevent himself baring his teeth. His hands tightened their grip on Severus’s shoulders for a second.
“You won’t.” He looked straight at Severus. “You won’t lie to me. Will you, Severus?”
The wolf was in full flow. Remus knew he ought to cage him in, but he – no, not couldn’t: he’d done it many times before – he didn’t want to. Wasn’t prepared to miss the chance of taking Severus, of making him squirm and cry out beneath his touch. But it wasn’t (no, it wasn’t) just the wolf, though Remus fought hard against admitting it. The wolf would take anyone, male or female, liked or loathed. Remus didn’t want just anyone. He didn’t want anyone else at all. He wanted Severus. But he paused.
“Severus, I... don’t want...” (to hurt you).
“Don’t want me?” Severus was pulling away before Remus could finish the sentence. “You have had your fun, no doubt.”
For a second the everyday Remus fought for supremacy: the apologetic, reserved, never-out-of-control Remus. It lost. It was not – had never been – the true Remus, just a defence against the wolf. (The wolf was not Remus, either, however much it claimed supremacy.) Remus had deliberately (as much as a child could) chosen an introverted, passive persona. Sometimes he had even believed it to be his character. But not now. Remus – the Remus – won.
A hand on Severus’s throat as he pushed him to the floor. An angry, dominant, voice.
“No, Severus. I have not had my fun. I intend to have you. I want you. I love you.” And he had not intended those last words to surface. They were true, of course; all too true. He saw Severus’s eyes widen, his mouth open in shock. “Shut up and let me fuck you,” he growled.
“You...”
“Yes.” Remus could bear no more. His left hand closed around Severus’s cock as his right hand pulled violently, carelessly, at his own robes until he was as naked as Severus. Then, only then, he paused, his eyes meeting his to-be-lover’s. “You’re sure?”
The darkness of Severus’s eyes was almost, but not totally, unreadable. There was – yes, there was fear; yes, a holding back, a suspicion; but it was overlaid with need, with desire, with (surely not?) a mix of anxiety and trust.
“Yes,” he said.
Remus laid his naked body gently over Severus’s, so they were touching from ankle to head. Then slowly, slowly, he began to move. Severus made a noise, hastily bitten off, as they rubbed against each other. There was no possibility of chafing with both men already slick with sweat. Remus probed gently at Severus’s anus, and this time Severus made no attempt to hide his groaning need. Remus muttered a spell and his fingers were slippery wet and suggestive.
“Severus, Severus!” And Remus’s private vows of gentleness were undone in a moment as he passed the point when any logical intent was valid. Severus panted beneath him, and he could feel his lover thrusting up against him, and... and that was it, the feeling that Severus could resist this no more than himself. He clenched his fist hard around Severus’s cock as he pushed into him – once, twice, three, four times, each more deeply than the last – and as Severus twitched and came in his hand, Remus felt his own orgasm rip through his lover’s body.
Severus gave a wordless moan, more sensual than any speech, and Remus was jolting uncontrollably, each breath torn from him, his forehead damp on Severus’s shoulder as he retrieved some sense of self.
And with that retrieval came realisation.
“Severus, I – I’m sorry.”
“For me or for yourself?” Severus demanded grimly, sweat still drenching his body. “I apologise if I did not meet the required standard for illegitimate liaisons.”
“Severus...”
“Though,” he said, in a sardonic mockery of Remus’s earlier words, “perhaps I should be grateful that you are prepared to acknowledge my name, even now.”
“I meant what I said,” Remus said quietly.
“When?”
Remus met Severus’s eyes full on.
“All the time. It is up to you. I can repeat my words, or – if you prefer – I can pretend I never said them. But I will never deny their truth.”
“Say it.” Severus’s voice was hard, as he pushed Remus away and wrapped his robe back around himself.
“Very well. I love you, Severus; and if you want the whole truth, no, I have no idea why. But I do, and I have done for years, and I don’t anticipate any change. Is that clear enough?”
Severus was absolutely still. Remus had never seen any man without werewolf blood stand so immobile. He, in turn, made no move, no sound. Severus’s eyes were on him, and Remus could feel the probe of legilimency in his mind. He made no effort to prevent it, allowing Severus access to the deepest places of his soul. And Severus, Severus was the first to look away.
“Thank you.” The words, even now, sounded grudging, but Remus knew his love well. Severus rarely said what he did not mean. There was another silence, but then Severus spoke again, almost timidly. “I... could be fond of you.”