LMoM: 1979 (Part 31~ December 31, 1979)
Title: 1979 Today’s Date: December 31, 1979: Later Rating: NC-17 Word count: ~1,800 Pairing: Remus/Severus Kink(s): kissing, dark mark, rough sex, other uncategorizable stuff Challenge: Lusty Month of May 2008 Summary: 1979: One of the worst years of Remus's life. Also, one of the best. Today’s Episode: He didn’t understand, and he was scared as fuck, but the quiet of the moment allowed Remus to feel something he had never allowed himself to feel before, even though it had been true for a long, long time. Warning: Some dark themes, murder and death discussed Notes: *collapses* Finished! The possibly insane blpaintchart has agreed to speed beta and Brit pick for as long as she can stand it while I try this…so generous is my Chart!! Anything remotely clever is probably her doing…:) Oh no! Chart is off on a trip for the last two days, so yesterday and today will be unbetaed until her return. If you see any glaring issues, please let me know. Also, thank you to McKay for running this crazy thing, and to everyone who has been so helpful and supportive along the way.
Remus unwarded the door and eased it open quietly, on the chance that Severus was asleep inside.
He had left the New Year’s party well before midnight, sneaking out while most of the guests were distracted with dancing or charades or listening to Daedalus go on and on about the health benefits of Mooncalf milk. The party had been fine, but as the clock ticked away the last hours of this turbulent year, a nagging ache in his gut reminded Remus that he was not where he truly wanted to be. The only person who noticed Remus slip away was Lily, who ran after him into the garden and gave him a warm hug and kiss on the cheek, with a promise to have him by for dinner soon. Then Remus had turned up his collar against the cold, and Apparated to Severus’s flat.
He felt calm and more at peace than he had for months. Maybe it was due to healing, or at least patching the rift with Sirius, or maybe it was realizing that making up with Sirius had not made him stop thinking about Severus, or maybe it was the promise of a fresh start in the new year, but he walked up to the door of the flat with an odd hopefulness that he had not felt for a very long time.
Severus was not asleep. He was seated at the work table, writing by the light of several candles, three thick spell casting tomes spread open around him.
“You are home sooner than I expected,” Severus said, without raising his eyes from his work.
Home? Remus did not shut the door. “I didn’t know if you would be here. Do you want me to leave?” he asked.
Severus gestured him inside. “No. I must complete this, however,” he replied. “I will be a moment.”
Remus nodded, shut the door, and raised the wards. He removed his jacket and his jumper, and sat down on the bed to watch Severus work. He was hunched over a messy parchment, his quill moving in rapid jerky strokes as he wrote. He’d been biting at the left side of his lip, making the little swollen wound that was always a sign that he had been intensely focused on something. His brows were almost touching, he was pulling them together so hard in concentration. The scratch of the quill, the tap of the inkpot, and the sigh of their breaths were the only sounds in the room for several minutes.
Remus stared at the man in front if him, really stared, filled with hope and guilt and confusion. He knew the curve of that spine, had touched each vertebrae with his tongue. He knew the sharp knuckles of his hands, the ink stained fingers, the ragged fingernails. His own fingerprints were on the lank strands of hair dangling in Severus’s sour face. Severus’s tangy scent, herbs and anise and cigarettes and sweat, permeated the room. Remus inhaled, swimming in the scent.
He didn’t understand, and he was scared as fuck, but the quiet of the moment allowed Remus to feel something he had never allowed himself to feel before, even though it had been true for a long, long time.
He was in love with Severus. Madly. And everything else didn’t really matter.
Severus completed his writing and started cleaning his quill. Remus leaned forward, heart in his throat, and tried to speak.
“Severus, I need to say…”
Severus raised his hand to silence him, and said, “One moment.” He shuffled some papers on the table, pulled out a torn notice, and handed it to Remus.
“It is a Muggle shop, but I did not think you would mind,” Severus said.
Remus read the paper. Help Wanted: Part-Time Book Seller. Ring Colin at Second Story Books to apply, followed by a Muggle telephone number.
Remus looked up at Severus, who was busy closing his books and rolling the parchment.
“You found this for me?”
“No, I took the position myself and intend to taunt you with it now,” he said in his dead-pan, and then raised both eyebrows. “Of course it is for you, Lupin.”
Remus swallowed, trying to stay calm, but the rushing throb of his blood only increased. “Thank you,” he stuttered.
Severus did not look up from his cleaning. “It is far past time you had something to do aside from wandering the streets of London. You seemed…content…when you worked at the bookshop, and I thought…”
Remus never found out what Severus thought, because he was struck then with an uncontrollable impulse. He rose from the bed and grabbed Severus’s left wrist, hard. Severus stopped talking and turned to watch as Remus pulled up his black sleeve, knelt down, and found the tiny skull tattoo at the bend of his elbow. He traced over it with the light touch of his fingers.
Severus tried to pull away. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice tinged with panic.
“Something I should have done weeks ago,” Remus answered, as he leaned in and kissed the little mark, letting his tongue lick over it, his lips enclose it and suck at it, until it was red and wet on Severus’s arm.
Severus had frozen solid. Remus raised his gaze to Severus’s pale face and their eyes met.
Severus swallowed. “You don’t have to…”
Remus pulled his lips away and said, “Yes. I do.” He allowed his kisses to rise up Severus’s arm until he was craning up and licking along Severus’s throat under his ear. He did not release Severus’s arm, letting his thumb gently rub against the skull mark as he dragged his tongue along Severus’s jaw and found his lips.
Their kisses in the past weeks had been cool and rare, one of the many signs of the distance they had let grow between them, but this kiss was deep and raw, all open mouths and tongues and teeth. Neither of them closed their eyes.
“I miss kissing you, Severus Snape,” Remus murmured in to Severus’ lips.
“So I gather,” Severus replied, before he pressed in again and locked his lips against Remus’s, then pulled them up their feet and stumbled, still grasping and kissing, over to the bed.
Remus was not in any hurry, and neither was Severus it seemed, as they both contented themselves with lying wrapped together and sharing long, deep kisses that Remus could feel in his toes, in his fingertips. Hands gripped hair and necks, and the past weeks melted away.
Remus knew there was one more thing he had to say. He drew back, and met Severus’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
Severus stared back and nodded once, his eyes unusually clear. Then he said, in an odd non-sequiter, “Thomas Mulciber is dead.”
Anton Dolohov, Thomas Mulciber, Angharad Owen, Sarah Selwynn, Regulus Black. The note. The names that had been drummed into his brain for months. Gideon’s murderers. Remus’s heart stopped.
“What do you mean?”
“An anonymous letter arrived informing the Dark Lord that Mulciber had been revealing his secrets to the enemy. Tonight was his trial. He was found disloyal and killed as an example to us all.” Remus shuddered and drew back from the dispassionate tone in Severus’s voice. “That is where I went tonight. I needed to be there.”
“Why?” Remus asked, suddenly aware that he knew why. An anonymous letter.
“To be sure he confessed,” Severus said quietly, letting Remus fill in the blanks between his words.
Remus closed his eyes and breathed in hard. He couldn’t speak, his mind reeling, his body flooded with heat.
“You…did that for me,” he rasped at last, his throat dry.
Severus leaned in and kissed him with those wide, subtle lips. “Did what?” he asked, his eyes glittering.
This was the moment, Remus realized later, when he truly made his choice. Kissing a little mark on an arm was easy, really. Severus’s darkness, he allegiance to the enemy, his ruthlessness, had all been hypothetical until now, an abstract fact that Remus could ignore at will.
Severus had arranged someone’s death. For him. Because Remus wanted it. Because Remus needed it.
It was horrible. And perfect. Gods
His mind clouded over, overwhelmed with incompatible reactions until all that was left were the base urges of his body. His body was not conflicted at all.
Remus lunged into Severus, ripping at his robes, needing to be against that skin, inside that body, a body that would hurt for him, plot for him. That loved him.
They fucked hard and rough, clothing ripped and dangling from limbs, Remus dragging an intense orgasm out of Severus with his tongue and teeth and fingers before he pounded into him with wild abandon and came hard, howling.
The aftershocks of his climax rocketed through Remus’s body for minutes after, and Severus’s hot hands claimed him, touching every part of his body as he cooled and calmed and tried to make sense of the chaos in his mind.
Finally, Remus sat up abruptly, knowing what he needed.
“You didn’t need to do that. Mulciber, I mean,” Remus said, as his breathing calmed and his mind cleared. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“I know,” Severus replied.
“No. You don’t,” Remus said, pushing himself up on his elbows, his voice stern, almost angry. His heart was pounding like a drum. “It would kill me if something happened to you. Don’t hurt yourself for me. Don’t take risks. Don’t make enemies. Please. I need you here.” Remus ran his fingers through Severus’s long hair. “Please. Promise me. Promise me you won’t take a risk like that again.” He paused and inhaled hard. "Promise me you will be here with me."
Severus’s lips were pursed as he thought for a long moment, and then he nodded. “If you will promise that as well,” he said.
“I do. I promise,” Remus replied, and kissed him, sliding back down into Severus’s arms and pulling him close. "Fuck, Severus, I promise."
He wasn’t sure, but a rush of magic seemed to pass between them in that moment, like a cord winding around them both.
Remus could feel Severus’s heartbeat against his own. They lay still and silent for a long time, tensed and tingling and scared. The world was vast and dark, and their small space together was the only safe place for either of them, really.
Severus stroked Remus’s back until the tension started to drain away and Remus could breathe out again.
Shouting and noise broke out in the alley below. Remus turned to the clock. It was midnight.
“Happy New Year, Severus,” Remus said in a whisper.
“That is unlikely, Lupin,” Severus replied.
“It is worth a try, at least, isn’t it?” Remus asked, his fingers once again exploring the tiny mark on Severus’s arm.
The corners of Severus’s mouth twitched.
“Perhaps.”
Their first kiss of the new year tasted like hope.