RETRO FEST FIC: Recovery Position, NC-17, 7/12
Title: “Recovery Position” Author: undun Rating: NC-17 Pairing(s): Severus/Remus, Severus/other Challenge: lupin_snape Retrofest Summary: Retro Fest Prompt 44. OotP era- "Moony, you alright? I heard you groaning and--CHRIST! Shit, Moony, sorry, I didn't rea--wait...is that SNAPE?!" Disclaimer: This is a non-profit creative work and is not intended to infringe on any copyrights held by Harry Potter creator/s. This work constitutes transformative, non-profit use of copyrighted material. Warnings: Drug use in Chapter 2, self-medicating drunkenness, and general thick-headedness throughout.
Notes: I owe a huge debt of gratitude to some awesome betas, who have helped me whip this story into something coherent. Starting with Resonant about 4 years ago, and in recent weeks _lore (of awe-inspiring awesomeness); she very gently bullied me into finishing this story in time to submit for Retro Fest. You will notice the story is not the neatest fit for the prompt, but the opportunity to participate was too seductive! Last minute hand holding and critical appraisal was provided by psyfic, who I want to be like when I grow up. Any further furfies you see are my own and no one elses. A huge thank you to our Fest organiser, scribbulus_ink for this event!
Word count: About twenty-six and a half thousand all up.
7. “Persistence of Memory”
It is the night of the day that I have given Potter the first two trial potions. I proceeded through the day in a normal fashion; teaching classes of varying levels, correcting homework and suchlike.
Occasionally my back would twinge with my too-sudden movements. I would stare into space at those moments remembering, in far too much detail, thrusting into that warm, abundantly hairy man that had visited in my bed last night. Hard on the heels of those memories came a vision of Potter’s throat as he swallowed my sherry this morning.
My formerly slumbering libido is well and truly awake, and bloody screaming for more activity. I lie on my bed. I imagine Lupin beside me as I rub myself through my clothes. I need the morphine to take this annoying itch away.
I can’t have Lupin come back. I can’t do anything about Potter. He was young before he lost his memory, but not an innocent. He may be older now, but he’s never been this innocent and vulnerable – not in the time that I have been acquainted with him, anyway. It is impossible, this thing I fantasise about.
I could ask Lupin to come back. Damn! I’m stronger than this. I need the morphine. Lupin won’t give me the morphine. He won’t let me buy more. I need Lupin to give me the morphine. I need…
I liberate my raging erection from my trousers and stroke it with efficient fury. The moans come from my throat without volition. I am close now, balanced on a knife’s edge – a delicious eternity of looking into the abyss…
“Severus?”
“Fucking hell!” I have ejaculated over myself before I’ve even realised that he’s not alive. It was possibly the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had by myself, but not in a good way. And does this qualify as being by myself?
“Albus? What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?” I’m sitting up and casting around for something with which to clean myself. My wand will have to do.
“I do apologise, dear boy. I thought you were dreaming!”
I have adjusted my clothing, dragging my respectability back on with a trembling grip. “Yes, quite a dream it was too. A private one, Albus.” His form floats a little lower, until it appears that he is standing on the floor.
“Ah, yes. About that…”
“About what? I declare, Albus, you are twice as impenetrable in death.” I can hear the thin thread of a whine in my voice.
“Your dream, Severus. You have lived it. What you consider to be a mere fancy has been a reality for you. You’ve simply forgotten, dear boy.” He smiles indulgently at me as he starts to fade, becoming more translucent by the second.
“Wait a minute! What the hell do you mean by that? Albus!” Sod it! He’s gone.
I open my eyes with a start. I’m on my bed, trousers open with my hand on my bits. Was I asleep? And am I awake now? Did that really happen? What the devil did he mean?
How I detest ghosts.
*** *** ***
It is five days after my haunting encounter with Albus Dumbledore. He has not reappeared, and I am no closer to divining the meaning of his riddle. Naturally I haven’t confided in anyone about it – there are enough embarrassing revelations about me already grinding their way through the rumour mill. The event has quite put me off wanking, since I can’t be sure he won’t turn up when I am in the middle of another stress relieving session. Which only leaves me one alternative, and it’s not shagging Potter.
Lupin follows me at a discreet distance, showing a reassuring amount of perception in picking up my non-verbal cue as I passed by his chair at the end of supper a few minutes ago. I daresay he could smell the sexual frustration leeching from the pores of my skin.
I am not stronger than this. I am as weak as this.
I enter my quarters. When he steps through the open door a minute later, I seal and silence the place with my wand. He doesn’t even flinch, but starts undressing straight away. As before, his clothes find their way onto my floor in a neat pile. He’s got that damnable smirk on his face again. He’ll regret that. I’ll make sure of it.
I’m in the bedroom, Lupin already splayed face down on the bed whilst I prepare myself. I scoop another handful of lubricant for him and apply it forcefully to his arse. He whimpers delightfully as I enter him.
“This,” I hiss, thrusting brutally, “Is for getting me cleaned up…” I pull back – just the glans of my prick snuggled ecstatically inside his ringed muscle, then I jab inside again.
“Clean and sober, and all too aware of my miserable existence, Lupin!” I force myself in deeper, gasping as my balls compress almost painfully against him.
“Sev,”
“Shut… up!” I draw myself almost out again – thrust back in, hard. “And this is my thanks – I’m using you!” It comes out as a hoarse whisper as I struggle for breath and control. What I intended to be an humiliation (as I have been humiliated) is instead sounding rather like a sad seduction. Time to finish.
“Is this… what you wanted?” I ask, my voice cracking as I plunge in once more – into his exquisite, tight arse. Another uncontrollable thrust spells the end as my vision blurs and I empty myself helplessly inside him.
I huff and pant for long minutes, feeling simultaneously relieved, euphoric, and ashamed. Right down to my toenails. Lupin shudders underneath me and I ease out of him slowly, leaving a slick trail across one of his perfect buttocks. I wipe it off with my fingertips and settle on the bed beside him.
Now I simply feel empty. It’s a welcome sensation; to feel nothing where before there was turmoil and anguish. I watch as he turns slowly onto his back with harsh sigh.
“Well, that was intense, Sev.”
He’s still smirking, the little bastard. Too fucking resilient by half! A sneaking, hidden part of me – I think it’s my conscience – expresses relief. I run my gaze over his sweaty, flushed body. He’s still erect. A few minutes ago I wouldn’t have given a toss, but now I find it reprehensible that I didn’t get him off. I shift to my side and trail my fingers down the centre of his body. Chest, to stomach, to abdomen, to groin. I close my hand around his erection. His breath catches noisily as I play my thumb over the tip. I look up at his face to see his eyes gleaming wildly in the dim light of the room.
“Severus, I want to fuck you.”
Out of the question, of course. I can’t really say why I am smothering the goo over his prick. I have no idea why I lying face down on my bed. And I couldn’t begin to imagine why Lupin is applying open-mouthed kisses down my spine, his progress only checked by the obstacle of my puckered hole.
This isn’t a fuck at all. His fingers flutter over my arse, teasing, tormenting. I hear my whining voice pleading with him. I don’t recognise myself. His mouth moves up to my neck as he lowers himself over me. I can feel his hot erection nestled against my rear. He is no hurry, pulling my hair to the side and licking and sucking at the back of my neck. If he weren’t a heavy weight on top of me I would no doubt be shaking like a leaf. Finally, finally he pushes inside. I let out a heartfelt moan at the intrusion. So full, so hot, so sweet.
He is barely moving, lying flat against my back. His chest hair tickles my shoulder blades, his toes stroke the insides of my ankles. I haven’t worked out if it is pain or pleasure to be tormented so gently. Do I need to decide?
Lupin’s hands stroke down my arms. His hands find mine, his fingers fit between my own. The tender gesture is my unravelling. I bark out an awkward sound, something cracking deep inside.
“Shhhh, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” I wish that I could believe him. I almost do. Another sob, for that is what I am doing, comes creaking out of me, rusty and unrecognisable. Lupin’s fingers tighten and tuck inside my hands. He moves slowly in and out of me. I clench my hands hard around his fingers, certain that I will restrict his blood supply, but helpless to stop the fearful clutching, grasping… my stable object. What is happening?
“Aaaah!” A wail surges up from inside of me. Lupin’s thrusts pick up speed. His fingers slip out of mine, tucking underneath me as he braces himself on his elbows. I’m alright as long as I can still feel his hands. I’m wailing non-stop. The sound shocks me as it has no resemblance to sounds of desire, expressions of satiety. It is a primal sound, and completely involuntary. Lupin’s body suddenly stiffens and I feel a warm flood invade my guts. His body lies limp against me. His panting is surprisingly loud after the sudden cessation of my own cacophony.
It’s over.
“Alright?” I can feel the question’s breath against my ear. If they had the energy the hairs on the back of my neck would stand up. I’m completely wrung out. Remarkably relaxed.
“Yes.” I slur in reply. I feel Lupin gather himself to move off me, “Don’t…” I feel so warm and I know that as soon he moves reality will come crashing down, as sure as the air will be cold against my skin. He relaxes against me. He moves sweat-damp palms down the length of my arms until they meet the backs of my hands. His thumbs stroke along my knuckles, down my fingers… his mouth works along the back of my neck.
I didn’t think I could possibly be more relaxed, but his gentle attentions make me feel melded to the mattress – I couldn’t move if the bloody roof was on fire. It’s impossible to keep my eyes open even the slightest amount. I have the vaguest notion that he is only now slipping out of my arse. I would feel a sense of loss were it not for his reassuring bulk still on top of me.
*** *** ***
There is someone knocking at the door. It awakens me so suddenly that I am on my feet and walking into the door jamb – nude – before I have any real idea what I’m doing. The impact shakes the last of the sleep from my brain, but it’s not until I have my hand on the doorknob that I remember the little detail about nudity not being entirely acceptable outside of the bedchamber.
“Wait a minute!” I order the unresponsive door. I walk back to find my bedrobe. I hear splashing sounds from the bathroom – Lupin availing himself of my facilities again. When I get back to the door I am tolerably decent, I don’t think even Minerva would blush at the amount of skin on show now – just bony ankles and a triangle of neck. I reach out and open the door.
“Black.” I don’t know who I was expecting, but for some reason I really wasn’t expecting Black. I hadn’t had him pegged as an early riser – something to do with the drinking and womanising I suppose.
“Do you know where Remus is, Snape?” Bless him, he actually looks worried!
“No idea, but he’s a big Werewolf, I’m sure he can take care of himself.” I wonder if that’s the sound of my shower, and whether Black has heard it through the bedroom door. I move to shut Black out.
“Wait a minute!” he protests.
I heave a long-suffering sigh. “What?”
“By Merlin, after all he’s done for you, a little concern when he can’t be found wouldn’t go astray!”
“Black,” I begin. A soft voice interrupts me.
“Who can’t be found?” It’s Lupin. Right behind me. And I just know that he’s probably clothed in nothing but one of my wholly inadequate towels. Black’s eyes boggle inhumanly for a beat.
“Moony? Him?” He’s sneering! I’ve half a mind to grab Lupin and stick my tongue down his throat while Black watches, just to see him fall down in a dead faint.
“Yes, Sirius?” There is a touch of coldness in his voice. It’s so unlike him that I find myself turning to see his face, gauge his expression. It is bland as usual, but from my position I can see the tiniest of twitches in the turn of his jawline. Oh. Lupin is angry.
“Uh, I was worried about you, Moony. Didn’t see you after dinner last night, and I went to your quarters… and… But, you’re alright, then.”
“Perfectly fine, thank you.” I watch Lupin’s jaw in fascination – the twitch is gradually fading. Black is perhaps a touch wiser than I had realised. Either that, or he is simply an expert on this particular Werewolf – knowing when to back off and live to pester him another day.
“Right. See you at breakfast, then… both… of you, that is. I turn back to see Black pale-faced, and backing down the steps. He can’t get away fast enough.
“Toodle pip, Black!” I call after him. He can’t help but flash a mutely furious look at me. Poor sod. I feel immensely buoyed by the whole encounter. I close the door with a satisfied sigh. When I turn to Lupin he is smiling and frowning at the same time.
“You bloody enjoyed that!”
“Sirius Black lost for words, what’s not to enjoy?” I ask innocently. He snorts and turns to his humble pile of clothes.
“I’m going to buy you some new underpants, Lupin.” I pronounce, a second before my mouth dries as he drops the towel from his hips.
“That’s nice of you, Sev.”
I reach for the sash of my robe. “It’s still quite early, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Time enough for a leisurely cup of tea.” His hand reaches down to grasp his half-hard length. Bloody tease. I drop my robe on my armchair and stalk over to him. A surprised chuckle escapes him as he stumbles backwards, belatedly trying to evade me. Too late. I have him up against my desk now and make full use of the heavy piece of antique oak. Paperwork be damned.
*** *** ***
Lupin is ignoring me as we eat breakfast. I think I have managed to wipe that damnable smirk off his face for the day. A good morning all in all.
There is a commotion at the Gryffindor table, where Harry Potter has been Guest-in-residence since his recent return from the dead.
“DOBBY!” his frantic shout echoes off the walls. It was a house-elf’s name if ever I heard one, in fact; Malfoy’s little turncoat, if I know my Life and Times of the Boy Who Lived. Everyone else falls silent. Except for Miss Granger’s strangely collected, “Harry, it’s alright. Sit down.”
The boy himself is frozen in a half-crouch over the table in front of him. Minerva sends a worried frown in my direction – it was no secret that he had been using my memory enhancing potions. Well, now; seems the second potion has promise.
“Where is he? Where’s Dobby?” Potter’s harsh whisper is perfectly audible as we are all holding our breath, waiting to see what he will do. I watch Granger as she rises slowly, her red-headed shadow following her lead.
“We don’t really know, Harry. Do you know?” Oh, clever girl. I wish I could have claimed credit for her, but we couldn’t have had her in Slytherin being the loud and proud Mudblood that she is now, could we?
“He, he… died, didn’t he? They all died…” Potter’s voice sounds as if he is on the verge of tears. I can’t stand this. I rise from my seat. Lupin looks up to watch my progress, I have the feeling he will not be far behind me as I walk to Gryffindor table. Granger is now standing next to Potter, who has turned away from the table and is staring unseeing at the mass of students in front of him. The room is filling with a soft murmuring as I catch Weasley’s eye. The boy edges around to me.
“Go and fetch Sirius Black as quickly as you can. He’ll be on the west façade today. Bring him to the Staffroom.”
“Yes, Professor.” He slips out of the tent in a red-topped blur. I turn back to Potter and Granger. I feel a hand on my shoulder and know that Lupin is there. Thank Merlin. “We have to get him to the Staffroom, he needs some privacy.” And there’s no way I will be able to persuade him to come with me now. If he remembers our history as student and teacher he will remember how much he despises me. Lupin has surmised all this, I suppose, as he is the one to move forward and take Potter’s arm in a gentle hold. After a startled glance, and a murmured, “Yes, you’re still here,” Potter allows himself to be led by Lupin. I move to the door, ready to follow them. As he passes me, Potter looks up.
“Severus, I’m so sorry.” A tear escapes his eye and trails down his face.