LMOM 2011: Day12
Title: A Balanced Mixture (a part 2; see Day 3 for part 1) Author/Artist: KateKintail Rating: NC-17 Pairing: Remus/Snape Challenge: Lusty Month of May 2011 Disclaimer: This work is not endorsed by JKR, the WB, Scholastic, the LEGO Group, or anyone else, for that matter. It's just for fun and no money is being made.
Remus stood outside Snape’s office, summoning up his courage to return. During his last visit to the Hogwarts Potions Master, he’d ended up with the man’s cock in his mouth. It had been his idea entirely; Snape wasn’t at all to blame for that (unless you considered the very fact that the man was immensely sexy in his own way and therefore irresistible a reason to assign responsibility).
What Snape was decidedly to blame for, however, was the fact that he hadn’t said one kind word to Remus since the event. On the contrary, he had intimidated and bullied all of Remus’ students as a substitute professor, including assigning even the first year students lessons on werewolf identification. The man’s meaning could not have been any clearer.
If Remus had had any other choice, he would have given Severus a wide berth and that would be the end of that encounter, glorious as it had been. But Remus desperately needed the wolfsbane potion. It was a week until the full moon, but he could already feel his wolfish instincts growing stronger. He had the urge to set off on a grand adventure, to hunt, to howl, to run free. The wolf inside him yearned to get out; he knew he could never allow that.
So with a deep breath, he knocked on the large wooden door and was granted admittance. Snape stood at his table, potions book in hand, bottles strewn about. The cauldron by the table was empty, so Remus knew he had not interrupted Snape at a bad time. “Hullo, Severus. I’ve come for…”
Snape had already turned, a familiar green goblet in his hand. Remus took it with some reluctance and drank it down immediately with his nose pinched. That didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse. “I see you haven’t been able to improve the taste any.”
Snape’s eyes blazed at the comment. “I am charged with brewing the potion so that it works accurately, not with improving it on a superficial level.”
Remus set the goblet down on the table. “You wouldn’t say that if you had to drink it.”
There was a pause while Snape studied him. Then he spoke. “Perhaps you’re right, Lupin.”
Remus put a hand on the man’s upper arm. He wasn’t sure why, exactly, but it felt right to him. His blood surged with animal desires and he could already feel the potion in there, trying to calm him, restrain him. He needed a proper distraction. “If we’re to be colleagues this year, you may as well call me by my given name, Severus.”
The fire in Snape’s eyes was still there, strong as ever. “You dare to come into my office and tell me what to do? How to brew a potion? How to address you?”
Remus stepped closer, his blood boiling. He longed to tame this man. “I do dare.” Snape’s eyes widened so slightly. With his heightened senses, Remus could hear the man’s heart racing. He could smell the man’s arousal. The signals couldn’t have been any clearer. Snape wanted to be taken. “And I will show you what else I dare to do.”
His grip on Snape’s arm tightened, and he shoved the man forward. A strong arm pushed Snape against his table, and the items thereupon went flying. The book thumped to the floor. The potions bottles toppled and uncorked or broke open. The contents of several bottles struck the cauldron bottom and began mixing with explosive results. As the resulting potion bubbled over, Remus was reminded to wave his wand for lubrication spells. He might have done it dry, if he’d listened to his instincts. But he didn’t want to frighten the man away.
Remus pulled off Snape’s trousers, using a spell to undo the tiny little buttons along the sides. He flipped Snape’s cloak up, giving him access to a fantastic arse. Snape’s arse was pale and perfectly round. He ran one hand on the skin, finding it soft to the touch; Snape didn’t even flinch.
Snape didn’t fight against Remus. He didn’t exactly move willingly into position, but he didn’t put up a fight, which he could have very easily done. It was as if he knew Remus needed to push, needed to feel dominant and Snape knew just how much to push back, just how much resistance to apply. It was a beautifully balanced equation, like the kind you needed for a potion. Remus would have expected nothing less from the man.
Remus kept his hand on Snape’s back the whole time, tough and strong, holding Snape down against the wooden table, just in case Snape had second thoughts. Feeling the constant pressure back against his hand, Remus dug his prick out of his trousers with his other hand. It was wet with lube from the spell and pre-come from the arousal. He delighted in the sight for only a moment before sliding it delightedly into Snape’s arse.
Snape sucked in a breath. Remus hadn’t readied him on purpose, but he didn’t cry out and still didn’t resist. He lay there, flattened against the hard, wooden surface beside a cauldron that was bubbling over with some green globs of goo.
Remus thrust, rocking, pumping. When he felt the orgasm about to hit, he began to tremble with need. He couldn’t hold back, not with Snape before him with his robes up over his shoulders. Remus came with a strangled cry, not sure how loud he was allowed to be. He buried his face in Snape’s robes, warm and thick, just like what he was filling Snape with.
When he pulled out, he realized Snape had come as well. Snape straightened without cleaning, pulled his robes into place, and frowned at his cauldron. He picked up his wand and vanished the messy contents. Then, without a word to Remus, he retreated to his bedchamber.