undunoops (undunoops) wrote in lupin_snape, @ 2009-08-29 23:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | retro fest |
RETRO FEST FIC: Recovery Position, NC-17, 8/12
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.
NB: We are now halfway, my dears; brace yourselves for craziness!
8. “Remembering To Breathe”
I follow the trio, at a distance of five paces, towards the Staffroom. Granger has a hold of Potter from the other side – he looks like a prisoner, held securely between them like that. Lupin flicks a glance my way as they approach the doorway to the Staff Facilities block. It’s beginning to look like a Muggle school… how terribly pedestrian.
When I can put it off no longer, I consider the fact that Potter has just called me by my first name. There is something so very frightening about that. What does he know that I don’t? Have I lost my memory as well? Of course, the simple explanation is usually the most likely one. He was overwrought, emotional, connecting with his recent past after several months absence, both from his home and himself. The rest of us have had time to move on, or, more accurately in my case, stumble, stagger and crawl on. Yes, it isn’t likely to have any great significance at all.
The sinking sensation in my gut is not responding to this rational explanation.
We have just entered the Staffroom when a large, panting black dog skids over the threshold. It is by a distance of mere inches that it misses overturning a delicate wine rack. Bloody Black.
“Sirius!” Potter cries out and reaches for the beast. He transforms and I am transfixed by the sight of them embracing. A guilty pleasure indeed – and perverse, considering how much I dislike Black. For some reason, I look at Lupin who, by his bland expression, has been studying me for some moments. What is he thinking?
Black guides his shell-shocked godson to a chair. Minerva has arrived, along with Poppy Pomfrey. They sit close by, not speaking as Potter looks around the room. His smile is unsure.
“I remember everything. I thought I was going to die.”
“You killed Voldemort, Harry.” Lupin states softly. I shiver slightly. I must light the fire. I walk over to the fireplace as Potter continues,
“Yes, but the power… there was a backlash. Dobby and the other house-elves were trying to disperse it – it was too strong. He, he must have Apparated me, but, I remember the explosion!” Black stands behind his chair and places his hands on Potter’s shoulders as if to steady him.
“Professor Dumbledore – he’s dead too, isn’t he?” There is a whispered confirmation from Granger where she sits to Potter’s left. I keep my position by the fireplace that I might turn away from the drama should I need to. Black rubs his hands back and forth over Potter’s hunched, unyielding shoulders.
“They all died protecting me.” He mutters. Oh, this is ridiculous.
“Please, Potter, let’s not have a pity party about it,” I ignore Black’s furious look and Minerva’s scandalised gasp, “The lot of you, house-elves, Dumbledore, Filch, and your humble self of course, provided the rest of us with precious time to get our precious students out of harm’s way. You were just unlucky enough to survive the experience. Get over it.”
There is a silent pause. I wonder vaguely whether I might have overstepped the mark – wouldn’t be the first time. Potter is staring at me with wide eyes. He lets out a startled laugh. Just when I think he has finished he starts again, bending at the waist to gasp into his knees. He’s hysterical. Someone should slap him. Just as I’m wondering if I might be the man for the job (as long as I can kiss it better, oh shut-up!), he takes a few deep breaths and smiles at me. Smiles. At me.
“That’s what I love about you, Severus. You never let me get too full of myself, do you?” It is a second after making this bizarre statement that his eyes cloud over. “Oh, God. I forgot.”
“What?” I can’t stop the question. It shoots out of my mouth like a barbed arrow. I want, need, to get to the bottom of this now. Albus’ ghost is haunting me all over again.
“I…” Potter glances around at the room. It’s obvious he’s not comfortable divulging his secrets in front of them all. Black’s aiming a downright filthy stare at me, as if Potter’s discomfort is all my fault. Hardly. I haven’t got a clue what this is all about.
“I need to speak to you, sir.” Oh, I’m ‘sir’ again, then? He continues, “Privately, if you wouldn’t mind?”
“Come to me after class today, if you must.” I’m no longer able to stand still, so I leave the room to get ready for class.
I have almost reached my quarters when Lupin catches up to me. “Severus!” I whirl on him, furious, but not knowing why. Perhaps fury is better than terror?
“What the hell do you want, Lupin?”
He stops dead in front of me. “Inside?” he asks quietly. I shrug and open my door. When it closes behind us Lupin tries to embrace me. I throw his hands off. He tries again and I pin him against the wall with his wrists above his head. “Will you leave me alone?” I shout. I think I may have spat on him.
He shakes his head slightly, “No.” We both know that he can break free of my grip at any time, but he stays where I have him pressed to the wall.
“Stupid fucking Werewolf!” I shriek at him.
“Mm-hm.” He nods in agreement. That fucking smirk is back on his mouth. My hands are full and I can’t hit him. Only one thing to do… I kiss him angrily. It’s not working because he’s moaning in pleasure and I’m getting hard. I think we’d actually enjoy the occasional bout of rough sex if we were to continue with this idiocy. I have to come up for air.
“Time for class, Lupin.” I say as I pull back. I don’t really want to let his wrists go. I look at them with longing before I gently release them. He licks his lips with a small grimace. His bottom lip has a spot of blood on it where I mauled him. Serves him right for smirking.
“I’ll be by later to finish this, Sev.” He straightens his shabby clothes.
“Piss off, Lupin.” I open the door and usher him out.
And now, I must teach.
*** *** ***
Four o’clock could not come quick enough for me today. For once the Hufflepuff third years and myself were of the same mind – they shot out of the classroom in insulting haste with my blessings.
I am dumping the less harmful variations on wart remover potion into the waste sink when the hairs on the back of my neck inform that I am being watched. I look up to see Potter standing at the doorway of the classroom. He clears his throat and greets me,
“Hello, Professor.”
I’d like to know exactly what I am to him. It seems to be a strain for him to say Professor. “You weren’t so formal in your address this morning, Mr. Potter.” I remark as I stack the rinsed cauldrons tidily. He moves past the threshold and closes the door before perching on a stool near my desk.
“And you had called me Harry previously if I remember correctly.”
Brat. “It was at your insistence,” I move to sit behind my desk, “I have no memory of anything like the informality of you calling your Professor by his given name.” This makes him frown and his stare drops away from me. “What are you here to tell me, Mr. Potter?”
“We…” He lets out a frustrated breath. Or maybe it’s resignation? “We had been close before Voldemort attacked the school. We had an understanding.”
I try to not react. I need to concentrate and ignore the beat of my pulse in my ears. “I remember nothing of the sort. Exactly what was the nature of this… understanding?”
“We were sleeping together, Professor.” He tilts his chin up as he drops this bombshell, as if daring me to rain hellfire and damnation on him for even thinking it. And yet, somehow I am not all that surprised, and I don’t know why that should be.
“Why ever would I sleep with a student, let alone one that I detest as much as you?” I say in order to keep up appearances if nothing else. He laughs gently and wipes at his forehead.
“You never hated me, Professor.” He shakes his head slowly, “You came to love me after… after we’d been together for a time.”
I can feel my reality slipping away, like water through my fingers. “It’s unethical to sleep with a student.” But I know that I am fighting a losing battle. If he had come to me freely, if he had wanted me and I was convinced of it – would I have turned him away? Would I have had a thought to my career?
“Well, you did take some wearing down, I’ll admit.”
I bow my head into my hands, closing my eyes against this unbearable truth. “Why?” is all I can think to ask him.
“I wanted you, Severus. I wanted to be with you.” He whispers in answer.
“I remember nothing of it.” Explain that, you wretched boy!
“I performed a memory charm on you.” His voice is toneless.
“What?”
“I did an Obliviate. I was trying to spare you pain.” He drags a nervous hand back through his hair. It is so very unkempt that it hardly makes a difference.
“Whatever would possess you to cast a memory charm on me while thinking you were doing me a favour?” I am shouting now. I may have spat on him. He holds up a hand in a placating gesture,
“I was certain that I would die. Dumbledore and me were the only defence the school had. The attack surprised everyone and there was no way we would have had additional forces in time to stop Voldemort.” It all comes out in a well-rehearsed rush, as if he has been examining his reasons well ahead of this meeting. “I knew that you would be grieving for me and I wanted to spare you that pain any way I could.”
“You fucking idiot!” Hardly a term of endearment. I can barely see for the rage, the frustration – “I loved you before anything happened! I loved you when it was indecent, you egotistical fool! I love you even now!” I’m breathless.
“Severus,” he begins in protest. I cut him off with a terse,
“Leave me. Now!”
“But,” he cries, taking a step.
“Get the fuck away from me.” And that has persuaded him. He takes his guilty, stricken self out of my classroom.
I wonder if there is any sherry left in my quarters. I’d rather have my hypodermic.
*** *** ***
Lacking sherry or hypodermic, I intend to make do with Lupin. He has arrived at my door as promised and disrobes in my sitting room. He stands in front of me for a moment. I watch him avidly as his dimensions enlarge.
“Lupin,” I have to tell him. Merlin knows why when he already knows so damned much about me. Ah, but then I do know his nasty little secret too…
“I know, Severus.” He levels his all-seeing gaze at me.
“How?”
“It wasn’t hard to guess.” No I suppose not. And if he has guessed then so shall others. Well then, another rumour for the mill. If I still have a reputation at the end of this it will no doubt be an extremely tawdry one.
“And you don’t seem to mind.” I observe, with a significant look between his legs. He flashes that smile at me in response.
“At this moment, no. We may have to talk if you intend to continue with Harry where you left off.”
“I don’t remember any of it. The damned fool cast a memory charm on me before leaving me for certain death in battle.” I can’t believe the sheer melodrama of it all; my life as a ‘B’ grade Muggle movie!
Lupin sputters out a laugh. The gall of the man!
“It’s very romantic of him,” he offers, eyes twinkling with amusement. Then more soberly, “He’s very young, Severus, don’t be too hard on him.”
And that makes me wonder… he’d said that we’d slept together, but I wonder how far it went? Being so young, wouldn’t I have kept him away from intercourse? At least until he’d been around enough to be certain of his orientation.
“I doubt that I would have fucked him properly, Lupin.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to soothe his sensibilities or my own. In any case, I am now distracted by the man standing in front of me as he masturbates slowly. It’s really very pleasurable to watch. I am torn between the impulse to grab him and slam him up against the wall as I did this morning, or just keeping my eyes glued to the unfolding performance. I am spoilt for choice, and happy enough in my internal conflict.
Soon enough I can smell his sweat and observe it as his skin takes on a shine across his chest and shoulders. His neck and face are turning ruddy with his arousal and his breath is coming in rapid bursts.
Every time I look up at his face his eyes are on me.
I sit in my chair, fully clothed and resisting the urge to strip off and join him. I squirm slightly as my own erection pushes against the constraining cloth. I grip the arms of the chair with white-tipped fingers, determined not to move. A thin river of sweat tickles down between my shoulder blades.
“Sev’rus,” he pants breathlessly, “please…” I know what he wants, but I’ll make him beg some more.
“Please what, Lupin?” I struggle to keep my voice disinterested, though I know I’m not fooling him – it’s all a part of the performance, isn’t it?
“I need… please!”
“What do you need, Lupin?” Damn, I’m getting good at this! He wheezes breathlessly. His face is a grimace, brows drawn together painfully,
“Please… your mouth!”
That’s all I can take, and about all he can take as well. I drop to my knees on the rug in front of him. His eyes glitter as he whines in a sound of pure need. Delicious! And so is his cock. He thrusts once, twice, and on the third he grips my shoulders and yells while he comes, muscles taut, tendons drawn tight and sweat dripping. I swallow it all wishing I had some sherry to cover the aftertaste. The things I do for Lupin.
I fully expect to collect a reward for this. It’s really not such an awful taste.
*** *** ***
TBC