Entry tags:

2008_fic, angst, fic4:lore, frottage, h/c, snape/lupin

15th Snapely Holidays Entry - Chasing Ghosts (Snape/Lupin)

Fic for: lore
Title: Chasing Ghosts
Author: arcadian_dream


Pairing Snape/Lupin
Rating NC-17
Warnings anal sex, angst, explicit sex, frottage, hurt/comfort, mentions of Remus/Sirius.
Summary Circa PoA, Severus and Remus find temporary solace in one another's arms. Severus, though, cannot escape the doubts - the ghosts - of his and Remus' adolescent past.
Disclaimer The world of HP and its characters belongs to Rowling. The author of this fic has borrowed them for the purposes of storytelling. No profit was or will be made.
Word count ~1,160
Author Notes Writing this fic reminded me why it is that I don't write more Snape - I can't. My apologies to lore for its general inadequacy - I feel it suffers from a touch of 'Top Gear' syndrome: ambitious, but rubbish.

Chasing Ghosts

***

The light of the crescent moon cast shimmering rays on the cold, stone floor of Severus' bedchambers: wan silver shards against tones of earthy charcoal. The warm glow radiating from the fireplace faltered as the night wore on: flames diminishing and shadows flickering on sparsely decorated walls, barely illuminating the writhing bodies of Severus Snape and Remus Lupin as they moved, limbs and lips entwined as one.

Remus lunged slowly, positioning himself between Severus' splayed legs. He took Severus', and his own, erection in his hand, wrapping his fingers, one-by-one, around the stiffened muscles. Slick with sweat, Remus ran his hand along both shafts. Severus gasped. He tilted his head back against the pillow, as Remus rocked against him. Silently surrendering to the intense tactile pleasure of his cock pressed, hard, against Remus', he moaned.

Frenetically grinding against one another, the smacking sound of skin-on-skin tore intermittently through the heavy fog of the dungeon, of darkness and dust and desperate, stilted breathing.

Severus reached out towards Remus. Clasping his hands behind Remus' neck, he pulled him close. Remus, pressing against Severus, slowed the movement of his rocking. The massaging movements of Remus' deft fingers subsided as he released his increasingly tenuous grip. He reached down, parting Severus' buttocks. Severus nodded. Backing away slightly, Remus took the head of his cock between thumb and forefinger, pressing the tip firmly against the puckered skin of Severus' arsehole.

Severus fumbled in the top drawer of the bedside table for lubricant. His fingers finally closed around the familiar tube. Severus hastily unscrewed the cap, preparing himself, and applying the gel-like substance liberally to Remus' prick.

Still on his back, Severus shifted his body towards Remus, hooking his legs over his partner's shoulders. The lycanthrope's pronounced bones pressed sharply against the soft tissue of Severus' calf muscles. With a laborious grunt, Remus entered Severus, sliding the head of his cock, thick and pulsating, inside, slowly: deliciously slowly; excruciatingly slowly.

Severus whimpered.

Exquisite.

Remus thrust gently, rhythmically. Severus pushed back against him, drawing him in further. Fingers splayed with tension, Severus clawed at Remus' backside, desperately kneading the flesh, urging him closer. Remus' movements became increasingly sporadic as he approached climax. His body stiffened: back arched and muscles tightening, Remus came, emitting a gloriously guttural moan as he did so.

With trembling fingers, Remus withdrew his cock. Severus lay, still erect, and aching, under him. Remus lowered his head to Severus' groin, placing his wet, parted lips around the head of Severus' cock. He swirled his tongue over and around the painfully sensitive tip, before taking Severus all the way into his mouth. Severus bucked as Remus' skilled tongue teased him to a shuddering climax. Remus rolled off of Severus. Panting, and weakened, the two lay side-by-side; all warm skin relaxed, nearly fluid muscle.

As his breathing returned to a state of normalcy, Severus reached towards the rickety timber bedside table. In the darkness, his fingers grasped for a crumpled packet of cigarettes. Extracting a fresh one from the packet, he reached for his wand with his free hand. Silently casting a spell, Severus pointed the tip of his wand to the cigarette. With a small, swift whoosh, the end of Severus' cigarette began to burn an iridescent orange.

He inhaled. Deeply. He closed his dark eyes, savouring the searing bitterness as it rolled over his tongue, tendrils of smoke filling his lungs.

He breathed out.

The grey cloud hovered tremulously. Heat expelled from his body, before dissipating into the cold air of the dungeons.

Severus flicked the base of the cigarette with his thumb. The ash crumbled, tiny specks tumbling through the air, and spotting the floor. He offered the cigarette to Remus, slouching beside him.

Remus silently raised a hand, waving the cigarette away.

"Thanks anyway," he said. His voice was hoarse. Cracked and broken.

Exhausted.

Severus shrugged, taking another deep drag.

"Did you used to?" Severus asked. He tried to keep his voice even. Calm. He was determined to deny doubt a voice, a name.

"Did I used to do what?"

"Smoke. Afterwards. With him." Severus was unable to suppress the unmistakable sting of his last word.

Him.

"Sirius."

He had nearly spat it at Remus.

Remus, silent once more except for the sound of his soft breathing, and the rustling of his limbs under and against the bedclothes, shrugged.

No sooner had the name tumbled carelessly over his cracked lips than Severus regretted bringing it up. Why had he? Why pick at the scab? He drew the cigarette to his lips a final time, before butting it out in the ashtray.

Quashing the light - the life - of it, permanently out.

Its glow dimmed, crumbling into flaky dull nothingness.

"Show me," Severus said quietly. He gave the cigarette a final twist with his thumb and forefinger.

"Pardon?" Remus asked, turning to face Severus.

"Show me. I want to see it. You. And him. Show me."

"Severus, I…"

"I want to see it, Remus. Show me."

Remus sighed. He looked away from Severus' face - pleading - and at the stitching of the bed sheet. "Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to stop you, would I Severus?"

Severus said nothing. He turned, altering his position so that he was not facing Remus directly. Severus held Remus' gaze, his deep black eyes boring into the shallow blue of Remus'.

He was falling. Images - memories - flashed hurriedly before him: stolen kisses and the touch of light fingers; the gentle grazing of skin; tongues and teeth; a shock of black hair tumbling over shoulders, beads of sweat glimmering in the light; arched backs and sudden cries of ecstasy spilling from soft, pink lips.

And the searing bitterness of cigarette smoke.

Severus broke eye contact. The present came rushing back. But the stolen intimacy of what he had seen stayed with him: the ghost of the memory a trail of smoke in his mind. A jagged lump rose in his throat. Desperate to expel the doubt, and the fear - the weakness, Severus thought bitterly, viciously - he turned his back to Remus.

"Severus." He felt the warmth of Remus' fingertips on dry, cool skin of his shoulder.

"Severus, whatever it was, that he and I shared - it no longer matters."

Severus swallowed, pushing the rising lump in his throat, and the tears that prickled his eyes, away.

"I'm here with you. Now. What I had is irrelevant. What I have is what matters. You." As he spoke the last word, Remus slipped an arm over Severus' chest, holding him close. He perched his chin on Severus' shoulder. Warm breath tickled Severus' earlobe as Remus whispered, "Now, pass me one of those cigarettes, would you?"

The corners of Severus' mouth curved into a thin smile as he reached for the cigarettes. He had been a fool to bring up the past, here, and now: he was, quite simply, tired of chasing ghosts.



END