Rosy (real_life_rosy) wrote in pervy_werewolf, @ 2010-05-02 23:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | #lmom 2010, author: real_life_rosy, kink: oral sex, kink: partially clothed sex, remus/severus |
LMoM: Tried and True, 2
Title: Tried and True
Author: Rosy
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Remus and Sevy, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!
Kink(s): oral sex, of the 69 variety. Also hay.
Challenge: Lusty Month of May 2010
Summary: In every genre, there are cliches. That includes pornography.
Notes: Really, I just wanted to do something fun and silly. :D Plus I thought, "Hey... wouldn't it be funny if someone wrote a smut fic like in Stranger Than Fiction where one of the characters hears the narrator?"
Word Count: 1,535
|1: The Hitchhiker|2: Cowboys|3: Vampires|4: Pirates|5: Pool Boy|6: Closeted|7: Naughty Professor|8: Superhero and Villain|9: Lord and Stableboy|10: Playing Doctor|11: Subway Molestation|12: Pizza Boy|13: Artist & Model|14: Aliens|15: Clubbing|16: After the Game|17: The Interrogation|18: The Nerd's Neighbor|19: Fairy Tale|20: The Babysitter|21: Incubus|22: Geisha|23: The Trance|24: In The Library|25: Teaching|26: Order Meeting|27: A Revel|28: Trapped|29: Magic|30: Waking|31: Ever After|
Severus Snape never really understood the appeal of cowboys.
Oh he understood that people found them sexually interesting, but he himself never saw the appeal. They worked with horses, sheep, and cattle, which were never the cleanest animals to begin with. Their own bodies would most likely smell of dung and sweat and old leather, which Severus couldn't imagine being at all pleasant. They were coarse. They were dirty. They spit, for Merlin's sake. And so, up until now he had been quite happy to ignore cowboys.
Until today, when he was suddenly confronted by a cowboy who looked remarkably like Remus Lupin.
"He is Lupin, you perverse troglodyte. That scar on his throat is a section of Greyback's bite mark."
It is interesting to note two things at this juncture. First, that Snape, who has long professed not to give a flying damn about the bloody werewolf, can easily identify a scar belonging to said werewolf. A finger length bit of scar that belongs to a much larger network of scar tissue that covers the werewolf's left shoulder.
"What are you implying, you lecherous trollop?"
The second interesting thing of note is that the Narrator has never been fond of being called Names, and has a large enough vocabulary to understand exactly how insulting Severus was being. The Narrator is also creative enough to make retribution both painful and humiliating.
"...buggering fuck."
Returning to the matter at hand, Severus never had any real interest in cowboys until he saw Remus Lupin dressed as one.
Even beneath the white straw Stetson, Remus' hair is sun kissed, gold and amber mixing with brown. His skin is a patchwork of freckles over tan, his body lean and wiry and on a very subtle display in his jeans, boots, and red checked shirt. He isn't flaunting, not by any stretch, but the clothing inherently flatters the curve of his ass and the breadth of his shoulders. He stands easily in the center of a paddock, coaxing a pewter mare into an easy canter with a quiet clicking of his teeth and the softest brush of the lunge whip. The mare's ears are up and forward, her tail fluttering like a banner in her wake. She is at the end of the lunge line, making an easy circle as Remus turns with her.
Severus rests one booted foot on the rail of the fence, watching. His own jeans and shirt are solid black, as is his hat. As is only expected and acceptable. He watches Remus and the pewter mare, tapping one log finger on the weathered boards before turning and walking towards the stable. He couldn't watch all day. He had things to do, and Remus was a good enough wrangler to work the mare without overworking her. He, meanwhile, had to deal with Daemon.
He can hear the scuffle already. With a frustrated snarl, he stormed into the barn to find three men trying, and failing, to get a stallion out of the box without damaging property. He snapped at them, pleased when they scrambled back and released the ropes they had somehow managed to toss around Daemon's neck. He let the horse fret himself, bucking in the large box he had been placed in, hooves smashing against the sturdy wooden walls. He waited until Daemon was panting, ears still laid back and tossing his head to get the ropes off.
"Had enough, have we?" he asked quietly, tipping his head to the side. The stallion, a beautiful sable black creature, snorted and shied away a little. "Yes, I quite agree. The ropes do nothing for you." Keeping his eyes averted, he stepped into the box. Daemon drummed his hooves, still very agitated... but his ears swivel forward again, watching Severus move.
Severus slowly circled the horse until he can get close enough to slide one hand along the stallion's muscled shoulder. The skin beneath his hand is flecked with sweat and froth, and twitched at the contact, but Dameon didn't shy away. He untied the ropes, running a soothing hand along the stallion's neck. Daemon stamped again, snorting and twitching, but he doesn't bite. Which he might have done with another handler.
Severus made a sound of encouragement, and took a treat from his pocket. Daemon's ears prick forward when he sees the bit of sweet feed; oats mixed with a generous portion of molasses. As if he were a colt, he eagerly and delicately ate the snack from Severus' hand, not noticing that his handler is able to attach the lead line while he is distracted.
Treat finished, Severus took a step out of the box, coaxing Daemon to follow with more noises of encouragement and more sweet feed. Daemon followed him placidly out to the field where some of the mares are already munching on grass and dandelions. Hopefully... nature will take its course. With a pat to the shoulder, Severus turned Daemon out, making sure the gate is closed firmly behind him.
He watched Daemon frolic for the mares for a moment, enjoying the brief moment alone. It wasn't until he heard the shifting of gravel that he realized someone was watching him. He turned, and caught Remus leaning against the door to the stable watching him. Severus' eyes narrowed in suspicion, until he noticed Remus' shirt.
The red checked flannel was unbuttoned down to his belt, showing off the wiry chest dusted with soft, curling hair. Severus let his eyes travel the length of exposed skin until he came to the belt... and the slight bulge beneath it. His eyes snapped up again... to see Remus smile at him. A slow, sensuous curve of lips that was half invitation, half promise. Remus tipped his head back, and stepped into the barn, never letting his eyes leave Severus'.
Like a puppet on a string, Severus was helpless to follow. Into the cool dark of the stable, up the ladder into the hayloft with its golden piles, he watched every move Remus made. He paused in they hay loft, clearly uncertain and suspicious again. Remus ran one hand up along Severus' bicep, curling it around the back of his neck and pulling him in for a deep, slow kiss.
Remus' kiss tasted like sunshine. Severus wasn't quite sure how such an absurd notion could be possible, but that was what Remus' kiss tasted like. It was warm and drugging, and he didn't realize he was being lowered into one of the larger piles of hay until he felt the prickling against his back. Remus' hands coasted along his shirt, popping buttons easily and dealing with the fly of his jeans in an easy flick. A quick shimmy and tug had both of their asses bare, flannel shirts lying open like robes from their shoulders.
Severus watched, a slight flush spreading across his cheeks as Remus began kissing down his chest. Slowly, Remus worked his way down, down, down... to the wiry thatch of black hair from which his cock sprung. Remus seemed particularly interested in his cock. Slowly, he rubbed his cheek against the length, and then licked along the heavy vein on the underside.
Then, he sucked on the head like it was an overlarge lolly.
Severus moaned, letting his head fall back as Remus began sucking him. Remus used his tongue in the most sinfully delicious ways, wriggling it and rolling it and lapping at the tip with just the perfect flick. Severus writhed against the hay, panting... until he felt the velvety warmth of Remus' mouth pull away. He opened his eyes, mouth ready to protest... when he realized the reason Remus had stopped his lovely attentions was to shift around.
Now, he was confronted with Remus' cock. Every glorious inch of it.
With a soft sound of approval, Severus slid his hands over Remus' ass to hold him still, and lifted his head to take that delicious looking cock in his mouth. It was smooth and hard against his tongue, the ridges of the head particularly delightful to torment and tease. He closed his eyes and listened, relishing the tiny noises of pleasure he was able to wring from Remus. He took a deep breath, and took Remus in to the hilt, swallowing around the bulbous head.
Remus cried out, his knees quivering where they were braced by Severus' head. Severus hummed, and swallowed again, bobbing up and down along Remus' length. His lips slid easily against the skin, slicked with spit and dribbling its own viscous fluid. Severus hand slid up, and the gentle massage he gave Remus' perineum had the werewolf gasping and moaning and spurting over his tongue.
Severus leaned back and smirked, licking the emission from his lips. He didn't smirk for long, however, when Remus returned to his own task with fervor. Severus let his hips rock up, and he groaned to feel Remus take him in just as deeply. His own pleasure was a lazy spiral upwards... until a particularly canny flick of Remus' tongue sent white-hot electricity shooting through his veins. He arched, crying out as he came in Remus' mouth...
...and he felt uncharacteristically pleased... almost happy... when Remus swallowed him down.