FIC: Needed Venom, NC17 Title: Needed Venom Author: Rosy Rated: NC17 Summary: When Severus finds Remus in a bit of a pickle, he decides it would be beneficial to assist him. Notes: Originally written for the 2003 Merry Smutmas. This was my very first Snupin, as well as my very first explicit smut scene. ...so please forgive the purple prosy-ness of it. >.> And thanks to lore who demanded I post it. XD
In the faint light of the early morning, the faculty lounge was bathed in shadows, with only scattered shafts of light breaking the gloom and the weak, sputtering light of a dying fire casting a faint flicker across the darkness. So it surprised Severus Snape to see a mass of rumpled shadow cowering in front of the grate, trying to leech whatever warmth it could from the dying embers. "What on earth are you doing?" he said, the normal bite in his voice crisp despite the earliness of the hour.
The shadow moved, turning its head so that two eyes peered at him. The two hands were still extended to the fire, claw-like in their wretchedness. "C-couldn’t concentrate enough to st-start a fire in my chambers," the throaty voice said.
Snape sighed and pulled out his wand. "Lumos." The cowering figure raised a hand to shield his eyes from the light. Snape carefully observed the man crouched there while the owlish eyes adjusted. He was nearly emaciated, and looked very ill if you took in the pallor of his skin and the lank way his hair lay on his head. His light brown hair, dusted lightly with gray despite his young look, was rumpled, as if he had been pulling at it. His shabby robes had a few newer tears in them and his bottom lip was sporting a small trickle of blood. Snape narrowed his black eyes sharply at that lip and transferred his eyes to the claw-like hands.
They trembled.
"What are you looking at, S-severus?"
The narrowed black eyes returned to the wretch’s face. It was gaunt, like the rest of his body, with slightly sunken cheeks. His eyes were large in that face, like two amber disks set into plaster. Snape sighed. He turned and started for the hall leading to his chambers. "Come with me, Lupin."
The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher blinked at him, puzzlement written very broadly on his face. "If you want the others to find you here cowering and simpering like a dolt in front of that pile of ash, be my guest. Now come with me." He didn’t wait to see if Remus followed. He stalked down the hallway at his normal pace, smirking when he heard the stuttering walk behind him.
Snape’s chambers were located in a secluded part of the Hogwarts Castle. Remus had suspected that they were going to be cold and dank, like his dungeon classrooms. He politely turned away when Severus murmured the password, and followed meekly when the imposing man walked through the open door. He was a little surprised. Although the room was frigid, it was by no means dank. The furnishings in the sitting room were simple: a desk sitting below the window in the far corner, bookshelves lining the walls, and a single large armchair and side table sitting in front of the fireplace. There were no pictures, no tapestries, nothing in the way of knickknacks collected over the years. There were only the books.
On either side of the fireplace and on the opposite wall, bookshelves were filled to capacity with a stunning array of books. Remus looked at one shelf, not surprised to see a long row of books on potions research and study. The books were well cared for, and that did surprise him a bit. Snape didn’t seem the type to care much about anything. But these books clearly defied that notion. They were all old, but still in pristine condition. He would have thought that they had never been opened, if he hadn’t seen the tiny slips of paper sticking out of the top, marking specific pages and paragraphs without damaging the precious volumes.
Severus cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow as Remus drew his eyes away from his tiny library. He pointed at the rug in front of the fireplace, which now contained a roaring fire. Remus’ eyes grew round and he hurried over, collapsing in front of the encompassing warmth. He closed his eyes in pleasure as the heat seeped into his body, bringing back feeling to some of his number parts. When he opened them, Snape was sitting in his chair, watching him. He blinked. He suddenly tasted blood, not realizing he had taken his lower lip between his teeth and was chewing on it.
"If you keep doing that," Severus said, his voice low and sleek like velvet, "you’ll only make it worse."
"Why did you bring me here?" Remus asked, still staying huddled by the fire. He could tell by the way his hands and face were reddening that the fire was quite warm. But he simply could not feel it.
"Because I really didn’t want to deal with Albus’ wrath when he found out I hadn’t done anything," Snape answered scathingly.
"Hadn’t done anything about what?" Remus asked. He chafed his hands, trying to get them warm.
"You can’t be that stupid," Snape spit. When Remus didn’t answer, he stood up and walked over to where the man cowered. Forcibly, he took Remus’ chin in his hand and forced the man to look up at him. His quick eyes darted across Remus’ features, resting with a lingering gaze on his wide, questioning eyes. "It’s to be expected," he said flatly. "Even with the most benign substances. If you take it for so long, the body begins to expect it, to want it."
"What are you talking about, Snape?" Remus asked, jerking his chin out of the Potion Master’s hand. Severus just shook his head in disgust and walked to his desk. He opened a drawer and drew out a slender box. Sitting back in his chair, he balanced it on his lap and opened it, taking out small bottle and a piece of cloth. When he looked up at Remus, his eyes were flat. "Come here."
Remus shied away, shrinking back towards the fire that promised warmth. Snape gave him a look that brooked no argument when he said again, "Come here, Lupin." Remus stood and took three steps, bringing him directly in front of the seated man. Severus growled impatiently and jerked on his hand, making him sit in front of him. Even though the weak, logical part of his mind balked, he sat at the feet of the dark man, looking up into his mirror black eyes.
Snape poured a small amount of liquid from the bottle onto the cloth. He set the bottle on the side table and reached for Remus’ chin again. Remus jerked back instinctively, but Snape simply waited until Lupin allowed him to take his chin. Then, with feather light dabs, he touched the blue-stained cloth to Lupin’s abused lip. Remus winced at the slight sting, but didn’t fight. For a while, neither one spoke. Snape simply continued to daub at the wound and Remus concentrated on conserving his body heat. A few moments later, Snape apparently satisfied with his first aid, released the man, just in time for shudders to wrack the thin frame. Lupin retreated back to his corner in front of the grate, soaking up whatever heat the fire could offer in exchange for the bitter cold he was feeling.
"Why am I so c-cold?" he rasped, upset at the stuttering. "Why can’t I stay warm?"
"It’s part of the withdrawal." Remus looked up, shocked as Severus stood over him. The tall man in black robes held out a vial of ruby colored liquid. "This will help with the tremor in your hands," he said simply.
"Did... did you say withdrawal?" Remus asked, his voice hushed as he took the vial from Snape.
"Yes, I did," Snape watched while Lupin tried to process the information he had been presented with. "Take your medicine."
Remus dazedly complied, unstopping the vial and drinking down the syrupy concoction. The moment the last drop hit his stomach, his hands gradually began to still. He sighed with relief, as they no longer shook forcibly. But the shudder that came after was harder, and the bone-freezing cold still lingered. "Can’t you do anything about the blasted cold?!" he asked.
Snape watched him for a moment before turning and walking into the adjoining bedchamber. He came out with a thick, fleece blanket that he dropped unceremoniously on Lupin’s head. He sat back in his chair, letting himself relax into watchfulness of a researcher. He steepled his long hands in front of him, his black clad elbows resting on the arms of his chair. Remus quickly wrapped the fleece around him, still cowering in front of the fire. They were only a step or two away from each other.
"So," Remus said. "I’m addicted to wolfsbane."
"No, you idiot," Severus snapped. "You’re not addicted to wolfsbane."
"Well how the hell did I get withdrawal then?!" he shouted, snapping his head to pin Snape with a glare.
"Your body," Snape said, speaking like he would to Longbottom, "has become used to having the potion in it. It, therefore, is a bit shocked when it’s suddenly not there. It does not crave it." He paused and added, "Yet."
"So I’m becoming addicted to wolfsbane," Remus sneered.
Snape smirked. "What did you think would happen, exactly? You’re lucky," he said, settling back farther into the confines of his chair. "I have a potion that will take care of most of the symptoms. The tremors and the shudders can both be taken care of easily."
"What about the cold?" Remus asked, still wrapped in his blanket. "Can you do something about the cold?"
Severus paused, and his face became still. "No," he said without emotion. "No, there’s nothing I can do about that."
Remus snorted and looked back at the fire. He rocked back and forth, trying to work some kind of warmth into his cold-wracked frame. "Why are you doing this, anyway?" he spat. "You hate me."
Snape was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "I never told you I hated you."
"Oh really?" he said, surprised at his own sarcasm. "What would you call it when someone sneers at you, mocks you, and daily tries to get you kicked of the only home you know and possibly killed?"
Snape watched Remus from the folds of his chair. His face took on a guarded expression and his eyes narrowed to two thin lines of jet. "I would call that the life of an ex-Death Eater," he hissed.
Remus blinked, realizing what he just said. "I ... I’m sorry, Severus," he said, sounding startled. "I shouldn’t have said that."
Snape sneered and returned to staring at the fire. Remus looked back at the crackling flames, trying to ignore the tension that had strung across the room. Remus flicked his amber eyes back to the other man. "Why are you doing this, Snape? Even if you don’t hate me, you certainly don’t like me."
"I sometimes wonder if associating with that flea-bitten Neanderthal stunted your intellect," Severus scoffed. "How am I expected to act around you? I’m expected to hate you, you dimwit. It doesn’t mean I actually do."
"Are you saying..."
"What I’m saying," Snape said with cold disdain, "is that I am a Slytherin. We understand how to wear masks. I should think it was a trait you had finally learned, Lupin, given what you and I both do."
Remus was quiet for a moment, staring at the face in front of him. Despite Snape’s previous comment about his intelligence, he was quickly fitting puzzle pieces together. "You act like you hate me because that’s what the others expect from you. But, Severus, you hated me long before I was a teacher..."
Snape looked coldly at him before transferring his stare to the fire again. "Do not try to make me repent my past. You aren’t capable of it."
Remus watched Snape for a moment longer. "So, you don’t hate me..." Remus murmured.
Severus glanced back at him and raised an eyebrow. "I should think not, given our differences."
"What?"
He sighed, closing his eyes. "Oh honestly." He rubbed the bridge of his nose before opening his eyes and watching Remus slowly put the pieces together yet again. A look of illumination marked the exact moment when Remus understood what Severus was saying. "Interesting, isn’t it?" he purred.
Remus shivered. And it wasn’t from the cold. This man, who was so unlike him was... similar to him. If not in demeanor, than in situation. He understood what it was to be generally mistrusted and feared. He knew the dangers of being one of Albus’ spies. And he knew about...
"You think," he said softly, "that you like it sometimes. That it is what is supposed to be. That overwhelming sense of power, at being able to see your victim’s blood run through your hands. At seeing the whites of their eyes as they stare in absolute terror. At smelling their fear and tasting it in your mouth until it covers you. And you think that this is what truly makes you happy. And then," he said, his normally cold voice tinted with a bare thread of sadness, "you realize you’ve lost everything else that did make you happy. And all you’re left with..."
"Is the unrelenting cold," Remus whispered. "The cold of being alone because you are feared." Snape rolled his eyes and murmured something about idiotic poets. Remus looked up at Snape. "Severus..."
Snape locked his black eyes with the pair of amber across from him. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, he stood suddenly, looming over Remus like a black demon. He pulled Remus roughly off the floor by his shoulder, and used his other hand to crush Remus’ mouth against his. It wasn’t a kiss of love or of acceptance, or even of understanding. The only emotion driving the kiss was need. Pure, unadulterated need.
Remus dropped the blanket and began clawing at the black robes between him and his rough lover. Snape’s own skilled hands fueled Lupin’s desire as they worked of his robe and shirt. Remus nearly dropped to the floor when those hands trailed down his abdomen and wrapped around his hips in a slow, tantalizing caress. He paid Snape back by finding the opening in the robe and slipping it off of his shoulder, trailing his hands seductively over Snape’s shoulders.
Bare-chested, the muscles beneath Snape’s sallow skin were well toned, if not profuse. Remus leaned forward and buried his head in the hollow of Snape’s neck, biting lightly. Snape hissed and increased the activity of his own long hands. In a moment, Remus’ pants slipped to the floor. Remus yelped and jumped as a slender hand groped his ass. A wave of cold ran down his spine and he shivered as Snape removed his own pants, stepping out of them to stand in front of Remus. He smiled wickedly and walked to the desk, reaching into the same drawer and pulling out a small phial of oil. He stalked forward and took Remus by the neck, again crushing his lips against his partner’s, dragging him down beside him onto the floor. Remus had to put his hands behind him to catch himself, making it easier for Severus to maneuver him on his back.
The dark cloud of his hair shadowed his face as Snape stretched over Remus. Remus ran his hands over his abdomen and up his shoulders and smiled. Snape darkly mirrored his smile and lowered his head and began lightly nipping along the line of Remus’ jaw. Then down his throat, making a line of tiny bites until he came to a nipple. He glanced up and flicked his tongue over the pert nub of brown flesh, please and amused when Remus gasped. The other man’s arms were on his shoulders, lightly trying to guide him lower, but Severus took his time, sucking on the nipple and teasing it lightly with his teeth. He could feel Remus’ erection beneath him. With a sudden, quick bite, he pushed his own erection against his lover’s, grinning when Remus arched into him, moaning.
"Severus..." Remus gasped. Severus only smiled, and thrust again, this time pulling himself up so that he sat between Remus’ legs. "What a responsive creature it is," he murmured, spreading Lupin’s legs and softly tracing the line of the inner thigh with his fingers. "Most interesting. I wonder how responsive, exactly?" With fingers made agile through years of the carefully blending potions, he cradled Lupin’s sac and watched for the man’s reaction. Remus gasped slightly and arched, his hips twitching upwards. "Ahhh... very responsive, I see." He grinned evilly and reached for the vial.
Remus gasped as the cold shook through him again. He moaned, feeling the rub of flesh against his penis and arched into that friction, wanting to feel the heat it promised. He gurgled, disappointed when it withdrew, then whimpered when a slow, slick, tantalizing finger probed his hole. With agonizing slowness, he felt the slick oil being spread around and around until it was all he could do to keep from screaming. One slender finger slipped inside, and he arched, burying his hands into the rug and grasping bunches of cloth. The finger withdrew and was replaced by a slick, hard head. It hovered, just at his entrance. Remus whimpered, and drew his legs up, begging. The cold was starting to seep into him again. He heard Snape chuckle. "Patience, patience." Severus eased into him, slowly filling him until he was covered to the hilt. Snape withdrew and plunged in again, this time harder. Remus moaned and arched. He kept his hands on the floor, balancing and supporting his upper body. The rug was rough against his back, his hands fisting in the coarse fabric. He felt Snape’s hands grab his waist and lift his hips until he could easily thrust into Remus’ needy body.
Snape drew up onto his knees and grinned, seeing the completely senseless look on Remus’ face. He buried himself again into the velvety heat, letting Remus clench around him as he drew out. He wanted it slow. He wanted Remus screaming. He wanted to see Remus writhe beneath him in mixtures of need and ecstasy. He took one hand away from Remus’ hip, and just as he thrust deeply into Remus, he stroked the erect head in front of him with a single slick finger. Remus’ arch and cry make him smile wickedly. Lupin wrapped his legs around his waist, hoping that he would use his hands. And that he did, but not as Lupin thought. With every thrust, Severus made feather light brushes over Remus’ flushed skin. They lingered no longer than a minute, and each one was in a different place. One, on the small of his back, another on his stomach, another just above his erection. They nearly drove Lupin mad with need, though each was accompanied by a deep thrust. The tempo built as the need of Snape’s body grew. Again and again he buried himself in that heat, that velvet cocoon until his stomach tightened with growing anticipation. With a final bevy of rapid, deep thrusts, the tightening climaxed and spread, and Severus came with a shout.
Remus felt Snape’s seed pour into him like a warm bath. But it wasn’t enough. He was still too cold. He whimpered as Severus withdrew, arching again in supplication, his neglected erection quivering between them. Apparently, Severus was amused. He chuckled, and then dipped his head. Remus gasped as he was taken into that warm, wet mouth. The long, greasy hair tickled his thighs as Severus bobbed his head over Remus’ groin. Snape was wicked with his tongue, in both speech and sex. It wriggled along the underside of Lupin’s penis. Remus bucked, nearly gagging Snape in the process. Snape growled, causing him to gasp, and firmly held his hips in place. And continued to slowly torture Remus again. "Severus…." He felt a light suction and the heat around his penis grew. He arched and moaned, trying to spread that heat. He was so cold. So very cold...
But that one spot of heat persisted. He could feel it distantly from behind the fog of pleasure flooding his senses. It began to burn, hotter and hotter in that one spot. He writhed, wanting so badly for that heat to spread. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on that heat. It burned like a white light behind his eyelids. Severus hummed deep in his throat, and Remus gasped, feeling the heat constrict into a pinprick before suddenly spreading, washing over him in waves. Every ounce of cold was driven away by the heat. It spread from his stomach to his chest and arms and hands and face, cocooning him like a blanket. The last wave receded, leaving behind the feeling of warmth. He felt Snape stretch over him and collapse, burying his face in Remus’ chest, wafting the pungent, spicy scent of herbs to him.
"That," Severus said, his bite working back into his voice, "is how I take care of the bloody cold."