snupin_mods (snupin_mods) wrote in lupin_snape, @ 2010-06-10 23:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | exchange: remix |
Snupin Remix: Story Gift for Osmalic
Title: These Lie-painted Truths
Author: DJ Snacky Remix
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sexual situation and no happy fluffy feelings
Disclaimer: I claim no rights to the characters, and not really even the situation in which I’m placing them (since it is a remix! ^_~), just my particular take on it all.
Summary: Sometimes we want things we can’t have. Sometimes we can have things we don’t want. And sometimes, we tell ourselves it’s the latter, when it’s really the former.
Notes: Remixed from the wonderful osmalic’s "Secret-Not-Want", switchin’ around the perspective of the thing so it’s from Remus’ side. Word count= 2,800+
Sirius didn’t know that Remus was watching a dark head move about in the next aisle over, catching the glimpses between the books on the shelves. He thought he was merely being ignored again, still not forgiven for his sin the previous month. Remus let him keep on thinking that, while silently trying to will Snape to look his way just once.
"You really going to be like this?" It seemed Sirius’ patience for being ignored had finally worn thin. He slammed his textbook closed and rose to his feet with a loud screech of wooden chair legs against stone floor. "Dammit, Remus, it was a joke," he hissed, mindful to keep his voice down even in his bubbling fury, as if he hadn’t already drawn the sharp-eyed attention of Pince with his slamming and screeching. "I don’t think I should have to keep apologizing just so you’ll actually acknowledge me. I thought you were my friend."
At that, Remus finally looked at Sirius, looked him straight in the eyes. "I thought so, too." He was certain that even if they hadn’t been in the library, the silence that instantly descended upon them would be equally as deafening.
After a tense pause, Sirius eventually pulled away and stormed off without another word.
Remus watched him go, frowning, and wondered if things would ever be right between them again. If the trust would ever be mended.
To soothe and distract himself, he went back to Snape watching. His favorite pastime, it seemed. Used to be, however, that he’d be watched in return. Both of them dancing around each other, pretending not to notice that the other one’s eyes were trespassing along limbs and shoulders and lips. Anger and shame and an unnamed pain warred within him as he watched that dark head through the gaps in the bookshelves. Look at me, he willed. Goddammit, just turn and look at me.
Beneath his tense fingers, the pages of his Arithmancy textbook cried out with dry, whisper-like screams as he unconsciously tore them. People often talk of someone "snapping," but Remus had never thought it was something literal. In that moment, however, he could have sworn he heard the sharp, painful sound resonating from somewhere deep within.
Snape looked scared out of his wits when Remus had him suddenly pinned against the shelves of outdated almanacs. His expression was almost enough to return Remus to his senses. Almost.
"The Astronomy Tower," Remus whispered, low and urgent and commanding. "Tonight. Midnight." He looked straight into Snape’s eyes, trying to capture the look of them like a photograph for the album of his memories. Something he could bring back out later to cling to in comfort, if those eyes never bothered to look his way ever again.
Before he could allow Snape time to collect himself and respond, Remus was dashing away. Suddenly reason started to flood back into his mind, and he wondered what the hell had he been thinking. What had he done? What was he doing? God, tonight…what was he going to do? If Snape showed up, just what did Remus expect to happen?
"Idiot," he hissed at himself, feet still racing down hallways and up stairs. He made it all the way to Gryffindor Tower before realizing he’d left his books in the library.
He arrived early. Of course he arrived early. What else could he do? Ever since that stupid, impulsive moment in the library, he’d been unable to think of anything else but this meeting. He was still terrified and had no idea what he was going to say or do, but he couldn’t help but be impatient for it.
Nestling himself in a small dip in the wall, Remus tilted his head back and studied the stars. The moon was swollen and haloed. To him, the craters not only formed a face, but a sad one. Eyes looking down at him, and dark streaks of tears falling towards its frowning mouth. In a way, he thought it looked disappointed.
There were soft footsteps approaching the door, and he felt his spine freeze up as if touched by a dementor. This is it, he told himself, still having no clue what "it" was.
"Lupin?" Hearing that voice—trembling only slightly in fear and something else—Remus suddenly knew what "it" was. He knew what he wanted this night to be.
"I wasn’t sure you’d come," he said by way of greeting, moving closer to allow for the other boy to better see him in the weak moonlight. Remus could see Snape just fine, though. Whether it was because he’d been out in the dark long enough for his eyes to better adjust, or if it was because of his nature, he didn’t know nor particularly want to dwell on the matter.
Snape still seemed uncertain, but he moved out further onto the observation deck and pulled the door closed behind him. "What is it you wanted?"
He felt his lips twitch into something almost like a smile as he moved even closer. "That’s what I was going to ask you, actually." It was time to put the dance to rest. Never mind that it already seemed to have died; he wanted something else—something more. He wanted Snape to be upfront about those surreptitious looks. What had Snape wanted, and could there be a possibility that he wanted it still?
A frown on those thin lips, eclipse-dark eyes staring blindly towards what was assumed to be Remus’ face, and Remus felt the certainty and hunger grow. "What I want? What do you mean?" Snape took a step back towards the door, even though he continued to watch Remus. "I don’t have time for your jokes." Those dark eyes flicked about, suddenly wary of the surrounding shadows and any surprises they may contain.
"We’re alone," Remus assured, almost amused. "No one even knows I’m here." He closed the distance between them faster than he meant to, and Snape practically jumped out of his skin from the suddenness of it. "And I’m not joking. What do you want?"
There was nowhere for Snape to retreat, only the unyielding stone of the castle wall at his back. Remus shifted even closer, watching Snape press himself against that wall, knowing that if Snape really wanted to, he’d hex Remus and flee. In fact—a glance down at Snape’s right hand—the boy was already armed with his wand. Probably had been from the moment he stepped foot out onto the deck. A simple flick, and he could send Remus stumbling back in any number of unpleasant ways. The wand didn’t move, though. Remus took that as a very promising sign, and dared another step closer.
"Want? For what?"
Snape’s words brought Remus up short, and the confusion frizzled the once clear course. "What do you mean?"
"What do I want in exchange for what? Explain yourself." Snape’s jaw was tense, his teeth barely parting with each sneered syllable, and Remus started to wonder if he’d been reading everything wrong. An exchange? Did he think Remus was trying to bribe him? Blackmail himself into paying Snape for his silence?
Oh.
That could work, actually.
A new idea started to build itself up out of the fractured and twisted pieces of the old one. Getting Snape to admit to his want now, after having found out about Remus, was likely impossible. No doubt he’d refuse to admit a thing if confronted directly. But if it wasn’t really asked…if the entire subject was repainted and entered into through a different passage, then maybe.
"You know my secret," Remus said, watching Snape’s face for any and all reactions. "What do you want in exchange for your silence?"
Snape’s lip curled, his fingers going white-knuckle tight around his wand. "As if you have anything to offer me."
And thus the door was opened. All Remus had to do was step inside.
When he placed a hand on the cold stone to either side of Snape’s head, Remus was pleased to see a subtle tremor run through the other boy. "You could at least let me try. I think you’ll find the payment more than satisfactory."
He watched with deceptively calm eyes as Snape’s throat bobbed with a swallow. In all honesty, Remus was shocked that he wasn’t trembling from all the anticipatory energy zinging along his nerves. Instead, his hand was steady as he lifted it from the wall and trailed its fingers teasingly along that pale throat. Snape jerked with a reflexive start, but he made no other move. Encouraged, Remus leaned in and retraced his fingers’ trail with his lips. It took only a second, and then Snape was surrendering, his body dropping some of its tension like a lead coat.
"I didn’t know you were a whore," Snape said derisively even as he tilted his head back a bit to provide more area to lick and kiss. Remus wasn’t angered by the words; they were expected. He’d be more shocked if they hadn’t been said at all.
Even so, Remus didn’t respond to the bait. At least, not with words. After giving that delicious neck one final nip, he silently sank to his knees. Thank Merlin for wizarding robes, he thought with a silent chuckle as he slid his hands under the draping fabric, drawing the cloth up slowly to reveal bare legs and simple briefs. Leaning close, he allowed himself a greedy inhalation of Snape’s scent, sucking it up through nose and open mouth. The tented briefs twitched, and Remus smiled in satisfaction.
Remus didn’t want to rush this moment, but the restraint he held on his patience was growing tenuous. Even as he wanted nothing more than to tear those briefs off, he instead mouthed at Snape’s erection through the thin fabric, teasing them both. So close now, he could even taste him a bit through the cottony flavor; and Christ, Snape’s scent was all around him. That scent worked like a poisonous drug on him, speeding his heart to a painful pace and shutting his mind down of all coherent thought. When he could no longer stand it, he pulled the briefs down quickly—carefully—with one hand while he held the robe up with the other. Finally. Finally there was nothing in his way.
Remus had never done this before, only fantasized. The drapes on his bed closed tight and charmed to silence as he sucked his fingers and yanked his cock and saw Severus Snape projected against the backs of his eyelids. He only hoped he was getting it right, as he wrapped his lips around Snape’s cock and slid his tongue along every bit of it sliding into his mouth. By the way Snape was starting to gasp and groan, he suspected he was doing well enough. Fingers worked their way into his hair and kneaded at his scalp, and it made him moan like the whore Snape had just called him. That, in turn, caused the hips in front of him to jerk in delighted surprise from the vibrations sent along sensitive nerves.
It was wet and probably a bit messy, and the sounds—God, the sounds were obscene. And he loved it. His own cock was trying to get his attention, but he ignored it to focus purely on Snape. The fingers in Snape’s robes twisted and wrinkled the fabric in their ever-tightening grip, and his other hand took to exploring. Thighs, bollocks, perineum. Then further back, just for an instant, daring to touch something else of Snape’s he hungered for. The fingers in his hair curled into tugging fists, but they weren’t trying to pull him away or get him to stop. It was encouragement in the only fashion Snape would allow himself to offer. Remus took to moaning with a near-constant hum, and settled his wandering hand to cradle Snape’s balls while pressing his fingers at that oh so sensitive space just behind.
"Fuck," he heard Snape rasp, somewhere amongst the many other sounds of abandon.
Remus wanted to do that, too. Any way Snape would allow it, he’d do it. Or take it. It didn’t matter. Just as long as he got to keep tasting this man and hearing that voice rough with need.
Snape’s hips were rocking, controlling the pace of things, and Remus let them. At first it had started to choke him, catching him off guard and unprepared, but he was nothing if not a fast learner. Besides, the thrusting didn’t last long. It was a sign that the end was soon. Too soon. It didn’t matter that Remus’ jaw was starting to ache, or that his cock was literally throbbing with painful neglect; he didn’t want it to be over just yet. Or ever. He had this niggling suspicion that this was his one and only chance.
As Snape’s cock started to twitch with release, Remus pushed all negative thoughts to the back of his mind. He wanted there to be nothing to spoil this moment for him. No pang of hurt or emptiness to ruin the taste, the feel, the exhilaration that came with the knowledge that he—Remus John Lupin—was the one who had made Severus Snape come so completely undone.
When there was nothing left to swallow, he reluctantly let Snape’s cock slip from his spit-slick lips. Snape was looking down at him, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. There was nothing in those eyes to even hint at what Snape was thinking, and it made Remus suddenly nervous. No, that’s not right. He wasn’t nervous; he was sick with dread. Somehow he knew what was about to happen, even while simultaneously trying to deny it to himself and cling to foolish, idiotic hope.
"Think we’re even now, do you?" Snape growled, though his lungs lacked the air they needed to give the voice proper force.
"Do you want more?" Oh, please, please want more. Remus swallowed, then licked his lips. His entire mouth still tasted of Snape, and already he was missing him.
Snape sneered and reached down to pull his briefs up, the motion startling his robe from Remus’ grip. "This isn’t about payment, and you damn well know it."
Something grabbed Remus’ heart, but he wasn’t sure if it was hope or fear. "What do you mean?"
"Leverage. So now you know a secret of mine, is that it? Think that’s enough to stop me from ever leaking yours? Problem is you stand to lose a lot more if people ever find out." A bitter smirk twisted Snape’s lips. "My reputation and popularity aren’t exactly the best, so it’s not like there’d be much to ruin. For you, on the other hand…you could lose everything."
Remus was on his feet so fast it made him dizzy, and in that pulse of black, he tried to focus on Snape. "You can’t."
"Why? You really think a blow job is a fair trade for something like this?"
"Snape, dammit—" Remus sighed in frustration and tried to fit words together properly. "This isn’t about—it’s... I wanted to. Don’t you understand?"
"Don’t even try to feed me that tripe, you manipulative little bastard."
"It’s not—fuck’s sake, Snape, it’s not tripe. I’ve wanted you for a while." Fuck that new paint job and the alternate door; it was time to confront the subject directly. "And I think you’ve wanted me, too, if the way you watched me was any indication. If what just happened now was any indication."
Snape stepped into Remus’ personal space, their faces inches apart. "Then perhaps your intuition is on the fritz, because I want no one. I certainly do not want someone like you. What happened now was indicative of nothing other than preference and physical stimulation. I’d have reacted that way for any man."
"Liar." He glared at Snape, lacing his voice with venom, because his true reactions weren’t something he ever wanted the other boy to see.
"Believe what you will, Lupin; I don’t care. That’s my point, actually. I. Don’t. Care." Snape moved away, backing towards the door. "All this was unnecessary, by the way, since I had already sworn an oath to Dumbledore."
Remus knew that. He knew that. It wasn’t about payment or leverage. Goddammit, why had he taken that alternate route? Why hadn’t he just gone head-on? Where was all that Gryffindor courage?
With Snape’s parting look—something he thought he’d kept hidden from Remus because of the distance and the darkness—Remus realized that Snape knew exactly what it had all been about. He just didn’t want to face it. Knowing what he did, that dark secret he’d sworn an oath to keep, it was something he didn’t want to want.
As that heavy wooden door slammed closed, Remus thought he’d never felt so alone.
End