Fic: Sleep Aid (RL/RW)
Title: Sleep Aid Author: Turbosized Pairing(s): RL/RW Rating: R Warnings (if any):Voyeur, dub-con Summary: Snape watches Professor Lupin help Ron to relax Prompt: Snape as a guilty voyeur watches surprising events unfold in the Hogwarts castle on one of his nightly rounds of Gryffindor-and-Potter-hunting... Author Note (if any): My first chan - hope you enjoy
The sound of his shoes echoed off the walls as Snape made his final round before retiring for the evening. Curfew had long since past and the few students, prominently Hufflepuffs, that he had caught out had not been enough to quell his irritation this evening. He had hoped to locate a few Gryffindors out of bounds, making his time worth while.
A few seconds from turning back to his dungeon rooms, he heard the annoying prattle of a Gryffindor. One from a tribe of annoying redheads, to be precise. Snape smirked to himself as he quietly rounded a corner, intent on catching the little brat and deducting enough points to send Gryffindor into negative points.
He had to swallow his disappointment when he realized the little snot was not talking to another student, but to Professor Lupin. Snape checked his movements, remaining in the shadows, and debated interrupting the touching moment. Briefly he wondered why Weasley was out so late at night and whether interrupting to insult the student was worth the pain of actually having to converse with the two annoying Gryffindors.
Snape had just decided that his warm bed was more inviting than insulting idiot Gryffindors when a movement caught his eye. Remus had reached out and gently ran his hand through Weasley’s hair, not interrupting the student’s pathetic monologue. Snape hesitated just a moment before casting a simple eavesdropping spell and a disillusionment spell in quick succession.
“...never see her anymore and when I do, she’s always studying. She seems to pop up everywhere for a few minutes but isn’t around enough to talk. And every time I close my eyes, I see that knife and Sirius Black coming after me, which keeps me awake and so I thought I would walk around..” Weasley’s voice rambled on, the slight note of misery making Snape roll his eyes.
Snape had argued that a third year student was not mature enough nor stable enough for a time turner, but McGonagall had overruled him, firm in her insistence that Granger was able to handle the responsibility. It was not surprising that dullard Weasley had noticed her absence but had not figured out the involvement of the time turner, despite his wizarding upbringing.
Lupin made sympathetic noises and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, turning him away from Snape’s position and escorting him down the hall
“It is stressful with all the excitement this year,” Remus murmured sympathetically, “Why don’t you let me help you relax. I know just the thing to help you get some sleep.”
His eyes narrowed, Snape stealthily followed the pair. Lupin’s behaviour was surprising. Standard protocol would be to send the student to bed and, if he was truly having trouble sleeping, contacting Madam Pomfrey to administer a vial of Dreamless Sleep. Quiet Professor Lupin always followed the rules.
The two had paused and turned into the Defense against Dark Arts classroom. Snape slipped in as the door closed, holding his breathing and sliding back into the shadows of a bookshelf. Lupin did not pause in his attentions to the boy.
After a few comforting words, he helped Weasley out of his cloak and robe, leaving him in a second hand shirt and patched shorts. Snape grimaced at the second hand clothes, inappropriate even beneath the robe. Proper attire included trousers. Lupin made no comment about either the clothes or their condition. He lifted the boy to sit on the teacher’s desk, the broad surface empty of papers. Weasley’s legs dangled over the edge of the wooden desk, trembling in the chilled air of the classroom.
Lupin moved behind the student, removing his own robe and rolling up the sleeves of his own patched shirt.
Snape scanned the room for any reason Lupin would have brought a student there at this time of night. Nothing stood out and Lupin’s voice returned his attention to the front as the Professor began to explain the history of massage, and the benefits of relaxation. Weasley’s eyes were wide and interested, obviously happy to be the sole object of someone’s attention.
‘Pathetic suck up,’ Snape though uncharitably. His annoyance at the student nearly made him break his cover, but the surreal nature of the scene before him stilled his movements.
Lupin began rubbing Weasley’s shoulders, kneading the thin shoulders and muscles before sliding his fingertips under the collar of the boy’s shirt. Lupin kept up a litany of calming noises, his fingers cycling under the collar and over the shoulders, circling and pushing.
Weasley initially held himself stiff, obviously, uncomfortable with the intimate touches. Snape watched closely, stunned but intrigued by the illicit movements of adult and child, the hint of wrongness contributing to his surprising enjoyment.
After only a few minutes, Weasley gave a soft huff and slumped forward, giving in to the relentless hands now rubbing the planes of his back. Having been given massages by lovers in the past, Snape knew the boneless feeling such manipulations could induce. He watched as Lupin pressed on Weasley’s back, the force of his hands causing the boy’s body to rock gently forward and back.
For long minutes Lupin continued, a soundtrack of soft murmurs and sighs accompanying the rhythmic motions. Snape remained poised next to the bookcase, wondering if this was going to be the extent of the evening. Unusual and inappropriate, true, but not something worth the embarrassment of reporting to Dumbledore.
The feeling in the room changed as Weasley’s limp body started to pitch forward off the desk. Lupin caught him by the shoulders, easing him to lie flat on the desk’s surface. He arranged youthful limbs, a gentle sprawl down the length of the desk. The boy’s half open eyes watched the Professor languidly, putty in his hands as the older man’s hands began to knead again, this time working on his arms.
Snape abruptly inhaled, aware that for the past few moments he had been holding his breath. He was conscious of his cock half hard in his pants, and shifted, allowing his flesh to rub against fabric. He know he should move, interrupt Lupin, but a greater part of him wanted to see this to the end. He had always detested children, considering them foul wastes of space. And despite his animosity for Lupin, the scarred hands moving over red haired skin was tantalizing. This odd seduction of half grown boy-child was arousing and he wanted more.
And then the charged atmosphere in the room came to a head. .
Lupin had finished with both arms and moved to Weasley’s feet, working his way up the boney legs. The quiet noise of hands on bare skin filled the room. Snape watched, mesmerized as the hands crept high, sliding over knees, rubbing over faint abrasions and scabs, fondling the finely hair skin before reaching pale thighs.
Weasley’s eyes began to open and lose their dazed look as Lupin first moved his hands up pale thighs and under the overlarge legs of the shorts. Faint words of protest were being formed by his lips and Lupin slowed the movements of his hands, drawing faint circles on the thighs, under the edge of the fabric. He smiled gently and lifted his hands, leaning over Weasley’s body. Snape watch the gentle touches to his cheeks; brown, soft hands gentle as they brushed hair back from the boy’s face.
“No,” Weasley murmured, his eyes averted, ashamed of the position in which he found him self. The eavesdropping spell carrying the words to Snape’s ear as clearly as if he had been right in front of him. “Mum said.. No... this is wrong.”
‘Now Ron,” Lupin admonished, a gentle teacher scolding a naughty student. “You’re thinking like a child. You are a grown wizard, aren’t you?” Lupin waited until Weasley met his eyes and nodded, then gave an approving smile.
“And you want to do well in your classes, and try out for Quidditch, and for that you need sleep, right?” Again he waited for him to nod. “Now, why don’t you trust my judgement as to what is correct and let me take care of you. You don’t want to live in the shadow of your brothers, do you? And you don’t want to be a bad student, correct? I know you’ve been struggling without Hermione.”
Lupin’s soft, coaxing voice was reaching the boy, Snape could see. The man’s voice was thick with suppressed excitement. Lupin kept up the one sided argument, his touching never stopping, always gentle. Snape saw when Weasley’s defenses began to crumble. The pathetic Gryffindor was so starved for attention he would follow the werewolf, Snape thought, disgusted.
Weasley studied his Defense teacher, past warnings warring with the need for approval and attention expressed on his face. He finally gave a small nod, but didn’t relax further into the desk.
The approval was obviously all Lupin had been waiting for. He gently brushed the hair again from the boy’s forehead, then slowly dragged his hands down the boy’s sides, returning to massage his upper thighs. He pushed closer to the desk, slipping fully in between his legs.
Lupin grasped the hem of Weasley’s shorts, slowly sliding it down his legs to bunch at his knees. The fabric, caught briefly under his buttocks, framed white briefs and pale thighs. The sharp inhalation Weasley made went straight to Snape’s cock.
Snape made an aborted movement, suddenly wanting to participate, but knowing that revealing himself would destroy the scene before him. Lupin shifted, tensing a small amount. Snape wondered if he had been detected, but Lupin returned his attention to the consenting body before him.
Wamth began to pool in Snape’s belly. At the thought of what may come, Snape grew harder, his hand moving to rub at his cock, first softly and then harder as Lupin became more bold.
Lupin spent long moments tracing soft circles on the white cloth, then drawing his fingernail up and down the middle. Snape gritted his teeth, hoping his disillusionment spell would hold and not wanting to accidentally reveal himself by casting a stronger spell. He shifted out of the shadows more, getting an eyeful of the junction of soft thighs and slowly dampening cloth. He stared, mesmerized as Lupin pressed more and more firmly, forming a crease in the pants, outlining the contours of Weasley’s cock.
“Such a good boy. So handsome and smart. This will make you feel so good. Such a good, smart man.” Lupin’s words were a steady stream, a background of noise punctuated by Weasley’s soft gasps and choked words. He inhaled sharply as Lupin’s fingers stroked above the pant’s hemline, then slipped under the white cloth. With one hand, Lupin help him raise his hips, drawing the pants slowly down his legs to expose cock and balls with a thin covering of red, curled hairs. Lupin bent down, pulling the shorts and the small, white pants over the boy’s feet. Snape almost missed the movement as Lupin stuffed them into a pocket in his pants.
An unattractive, splotchy blush started on Weasley’s face and spread down his neck and under his collar as Lupin gazed upon him. Snape could see the boy’s legs instinctively pull upward, hiding and protecting his vulnerable parts, but Lupin was there and the boney knees clamped around his waist before relaxing again. Weasley swallowed loudly in the quiet room.
Keeping up a soft chant of praises, Lupin smiled sweetly at him. Snape could see the points of his teeth and the sharpness to his gaze and knew this was no soft spoken caregiver; this was a predator encircling his prey.
Lupin’s fingers danced over thighs and stroked softly between his legs. Weasley’s body shuddered, and then Lupin’s fingers slipped around the immature cock, fondling small thinly haired balls. Snape stretched to see without moving from his protective shadows, but gave up safety for a better view. He watched Lupin’s thumb repetitively stroke up and down the small penis. As a man, Lupin knew just how to play Weasley’s body, a musical instrument of erotic sounds. Weasley sucked in a breath at the stimulation of the glans and shuddered as Lupin’s thumb rubbed over the slit at the end. He made soft gasping noises, his eyes wide with discovery.
“P..p.please...P..Professor L...l..Lupin..” he stuttered in a whisper. Lupin responded by stroking a little harder and faster. Weasley looked up at him and Snape could see the slight trust and wonder in his eyes, the belief that the Professor would do as he promised and make him feel good.
The perversion of that trust excited Snape almost as much as the sight of Lupin’s brown hands on white flesh.
As Lupin’s thumb continued it’s movement, his other hand was busy, creeping down between and continuing to rolls the balls in their wrinkled sacs. Weasley began to shift his legs back and forth, both seeking and escaping the touch. Lupin put a hand on his hip, drawing his attention and stilling the small movements.
Snape had to grab his cock hard and hold firm to keep from coming in his pants as one finger disappeared between the cheek’s of the boy’s ass, stroking over the perineum. The movement was like electricity to Weasley’s body, which snapped to attention like a strung bow. Snape’s began to breath faster and deeper, unconsciously matching Lupin’s as they shared the moment.
Snape could not draw his eyes away from the hand and fingers that teased around the hole, moving and circling. A soft murmured spell and a shining wetness on the finger was the most erotic thing he had seen. The finger pushed slowly into the willing body and Wesley arched his back, crying out.
“Prostate,” Lupin said, his own voice choked with arousal.
Then one finger became two. Snape was aware peripherally of the small moan of discomfort Weasley emitted, but he was as caught in the action as the two participates.
Weasley began to keen, hgis back arching off the desk and legs clenching and releasing around Lupin’s hips. Sweat dotted his forehead and he swept his head from side to side. Snape rubbed fiercely at his cock, matching his rhythm to the wet fingers gliding smoothly in and out, stretching and then diving deep inside the thrashing boy.
Lupin’s monologue had tapered off and he was now breathing rapidly. Snape noticed Lupin’s other hand had briefly left Weasley’s cock and was gracelessly opening the buttons on the his own pants. Despite his struggles, his fingers never stopped their plunging in and out.
Finally, his pants were open and his hand returned to the straining, purple cock. Snape was mildly dumbfounded that the boy had lasted this long.
“You truly unique, my boy,” Lupin murmured. With the words, Lupin bent took the head of Weasley’s cock into his mouth, suckling gently on the flesh. He pushed three fingers into the boy’s greedy hole and angled his hand.
Weasley gave a small wail and Snape saw his muscles tensing as he came, clamping his legs around his professor and sobbing into the air. Lupin never stopped the penetrating motions of his fingers, and suckled firmly at the head of the small penis before taking the whole shaft in to his mouth. .
Finally Weasley’s keening tapered off. Snape watched Weasley watch Lupin though heavy eyelids, his intent expression focused on the Lupin’s flushed face. Holding Weasley’s gaze, the werewolf slowly removed his fingers. Lupin heaved a deep breath and moved closer to Weasley, who remained sprawled on the desk like a broken doll.
Not broken, thought Snape. A defiled toy. One that would be played with again soon, he was sure.
Harsh breathing filled the air, the players in the small drama caught up in their reactions. Snape began to wish the two would leave now that the show was over. He had to get relief soon; delayed orgasm had little appeal to him.
Then suddenly Lupin was helping a drowsing Weasley down from the desk. The boy stood, swaying slightly as Lupin pulled the shorts up, fastened his robe and straightened his clothes. Snape watched him, lids half open and glazed eyes still on his face. Professor Lupin, now composed and proper once again, gently ushered his charge to the door, whispering for him to wait in the corridor for an escort back to Gryffindor tower.
Lupin allowed the door to close behind Weasley, then lifted the two fingers to his nose and sniffed. He inhaled deeply before dropping his hand and picking up the pants that had fallen out of his pocket onto the floor. He shook them out and lay them on the desk.
Lupin turned to face the bookcase. He smiled knowingly in Snape’s direction and whispered “A souvenir,” before turning and striding out the door.
Snape waited until the door has closed behind Lupin. Seconds later, he was unfastening buttons with clumsy fingers, frantic to relieve the unbelievable pressure in his cock. He took a few, awkward steps forward to grab the pants and wrapped them around his cock.
A few strokes, visualizing Lupin’s fingers driving in and out of a tight, virginal channel was all it took. He was spilling his seed into his pants, the intense orgasm weakening his muscles. He slumped against the bookshelf, allowing the wood to take his weight off of unsteady legs.
After a few minutes, he cast a quick Scourgify and straightened his clothes, fastening buttons. Obviously, Lupin was sick and preyed on his students. This required careful monitoring. The pants should be kept for evidence. Snape smiled at his conclusion. Careful monitoring and observation were definitely called for before approaching Dumbledore. Snape strode towards the door. Maybe he needed to add the Defense against Dark Arts classroom to his nightly rounds. It would be prudent for all involved.