Author: Neo Geisha
Warnings: blood, rimming
Summary: Written for the Master&Wolf Fuh-Q Fest, Challenge50: Lupin and Snape are captured, and it's just prior to the full moon. Instead of simply killing them, Voldemort has they locked up together, knowing that when Lupin transforms he will tear Snape to shreds, and then probably go mad from guilt. Rescue seems unlikely, but Lupin knows there is one thing that could save Snape: a werewolf would never harm its mate. The trouble is, not only must they have sex, but becoming a werewolf's mate means you must stay with them for life. Will Snape think death is a better option?
A/N: Chocolate frogs and sugarmice to my fantastic beta, Bell Witch. Thank you so much for your support *hugs*
A hug and lots of butterbeer to Chance for his patience.
* * *
Of all those who are born, most are so fortunate
as to be sentenced to death
For surely they are better off than those
who are sentenced to life
None are more free than they who in their lifetime
rather than thereafter
have found themselves from a sentence to life delivered
For these are the few that live to be granted
- Sebastiaan F.W. Nijhof
Silvery rays of moonlight flooded the small cell, painting the stony walls in ghostly colours.
Remus Lupin stood in front of the high windowsill and stared into the crystal clear midnight sky, his eyes fixed on the fateful orb of light.
He felt the strong urge to close his eyes and howl from the bottom of his soul, and it was still one night to the full moon. He couldn’t remember the last time the call had been this strong but he suspected it to be decades ago. Every nerve in his body was on fire, as though fire ants were living in his veins. His whole body anticipated the imminent change that was only one day away.
Astonishingly, he had completely forgotten how powerful the moon’s call was-- untamed and urgent without wolfsbane.
Too many days had passed since he had been caught by a handful of Death Eaters and brought to this prison, and apparently, it had been more than enough time to get the last molecule of Snape’s potion out of his system. Since he had been brought here he had paced up and down the small floor of his cold cell, racking his brain, wondering why they had caught him and left him here completely unharmed – obviously, and for some reason he didn’t understand, Voldemort wanted him alive.
A tray with food and water had appeared on the first morning, and although he couldn’t understand it, Remus took it as proof that the Dark Lord had a deeper interest in his survival. And indeed, on all following days he had been provided with water and a bowl of edible, though fowl tasting porridge.
Three days ago, the delivery of his daily ration had stopped abruptly and only the delivery of water continued. At first, he wondered if they had finally decided to starve him to death, but unfortunately he had been wrong. Barely an hour ago, the heavy door to his prison had been opened and, in a whirl of black robes, a man had been pushed into the small room, sagging down next to the cold stone wall like a sand-filled rag doll.
Voldemort’s plan had dawned on him he moment the unconscious man had been tossed inside. The knowledge rushed over him and filled his shivering body with a mixture of guilt and fear that turned very soon into panic.
In all the years of being a lycanthrope he had always been cautious. He had hid during the nights of the full moon, locking himself in the shrieking shack or in the cellar of his home, always intent on not harming anyone. And now? The weak, black figure had been thrown to his feet one day prior to the full moon, leaving Remus not the faintest chance to resist his predatory desires.
The ultimate rubbish chute for disposal of discarded Death Eaters.
Absentmindedly, he ran his fingers over the itching flesh of his neck, his nails digging into his skin like claws, already unnaturally sharp. But the itching didn’t stop, and his scratching grew fiercer and feverish, until both hands were working on the abused flesh of his neck.
“Lupin, stop it! You are bleeding already!”
The hoarse voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and slowly he tore his gaze away from the nearly full moon, then looked at his bloody fingertips, sticky with warm, wet fluid that was already dripping down his neck in little, red, rivers. He took out a small handkerchief, and wiped his fingers dry.
“It’s the moon. She is calling to me…” He turned to face the man who had talked to him -- when did he wake up? “I’m sorry, Severus.”
“Don’t apologise, Lupin. Feel free to mutilate yourself as much as you like, just make sure that I don’t have to watch you,” came the harsh response.
Remus saw that Severus was swaying, fighting for balance, as the weak man attempted to get up from the cold stone floor. Remus sprang to Snape’s side without hesitation, catching one of his arms to help him stand up, and within a second a well-known smell reached his nostrils.
Remus instinctively drew a deep breath, then started to sniff at the torn robes of the other man.
Fresh blood, dry but clean, and a lot of it. The smell was enticing, and it took all his willpower not to tear the robes apart, and enjoy the wonderful smell that was emanating of the cloth and Snape’s warm body.
“You’ve been bleeding, Severus. Dear God, your robes are soaked.”
“What do you think, Lupin? I am a convicted traitor, captured by the ones he betrayed. Do you really believe they would welcome me with open arms?” With a sharp tug Severus freed his arm from Remus’ grip, and made the few steps towards the windowsill.
“I’m really sorry, Severus. I never wanted you to risk your life for me. I—“
“Oh, spare me that shit! If it wasn’t for Albus, I would most certainly be anywhere but here. But he made perfectly clear that his favourite tame werewolf must be saved.” Like Remus had done it only minutes ago, Severus stared through the window into the midnight sky.
“Well, I’m sorry that Albus asked you to rescue me.”
“There wasn’t really any other option. Or are you dense enough to believe that Dumbledore would risk his Golden Boy or one of his precious Aurors to save your flea-bitten body?” Severus answered with a snort, and although Remus couldn’t see Snape’s face, he was sure that his trademark sneer was back in place.
“I don’t think that it matters anymore. It’s only one more day to the full moon, and I can feel her call right now. The blood…your blood, it smells…well, they made pretty sure that I won’t stand a chance to fight the urge to kill you.” Remus admitted with a blush of embarrassment creeping into his stubbly cheeks. “If you don’t end it soon, Severus, I will tear you apart. You have to kill me before I –“
“Sure, because it’s so much easier for me to kill you! The traitorous Death Eater won’t mind another man’s blood staining his fingers.” Severus turned around with surprising speed and stormed across the cell, grabbing Remus by his shoulders. He felt the rough surface of the dungeon stones as Severus pressed his back against the wall, thin but strong fingers curled around his still bleeding neck.
“Do you think I want to die, Lupin? Do you think I have fought all my bloody life to die at your hands?” Snape’s eyes were burning with hatred and fear. “Because if you do you are utterly mistaken. I absolutely detest justifying myself, so you had better listen closely: I will not take the guilt for another man’s death upon my shoulders. I will not kill you, Lupin, for once and for all. I don’t want to die, but I won’t kill you either. That’s final.”
With that, Snape shoved Remus back against the cold stone wall and then returned to the window, gazing at the brightly shining moon.
Remus watched the dark figure in silence. Although he had known Severus Snape since his days as a Hogwarts student, he had the odd feeling that the raven-haired man was still a complete riddle to him. He had assumed that Snape would be rather happy to have an excuse to kill him. Snivellus’ revenge.
Remus didn’t understand why Snape had refused his offer. It was the only chance to save Snape’s life and, to Remus, Severus had always seemed right down-and-dirty. Truly, he hadn’t even assumed that Hogwarts’ Potions master had anything comparable to a conscience.
Why could Snape never react as expected? Remus sat down on the floor, grimacing as he touched the wet, clammy ground.
If Snape would not kill him during the next hours, and Remus was quite sure that Snape had meant what he had said, the exhausted wizard wouldn’t stand the slightest chance against him. As a werewolf he couldn’t tell friend from foe; his hunger for blood and meat would be so overwhelming that he would kill Snape in a minute.
Suicide wasn’t an option, either. The will to survive is much stronger in lycanthropes; he knew that he wouldn’t be able to kill himself to save Snape – although he’d much rather die than live as a murderer.
He sighed heavily, then turned his gaze to Snape, who was still staring at the moon as if he was the one awaiting the change.
“The window is magically warded.”
“Of course it is. The whole tower is solidly warded. Even if we were both at full strength and had our wands, it would take us days to overcome them.” With whirling black robes Snape turned around and headed for the ancient wooden door. “This –“ one long slender hand traced the edges of the old door “is the only way out. A weak point in Voldemort’s fort, so to speak.”
“How do you know that?”
“Why do you know that you won’t be able to kill yourself?” Severus snorted snidely.
“I knew that you’re…that you were a Death Eater, Severus. I just didn’t assume that you know all the secret hide-outs,” he snapped.
“I was initiated in this very room. Everyone thinks that it’s just one big feast where the initiates get their mark like a tattoo, but Voldemort isn’t someone who keeps things simple. Before you receive the Dark Mark, you have to spend twelve hours imprisoned in one of the Death Eater’s quarters, and the moment you enter your cell you present your life to the Dark Lord. You have to kneel on the stone floor and beg for the Dark Lord’s acceptance, for his mercy.” Next to the black wooden door Snape sat down, resting his arms on his knees.
“Not everyone is accepted as a servant for the Dark Lord. Sometimes, if Voldemort isn’t pleased with the effort or devotedness of the initiate, the door won’t open after twelve hours. I spent my time kneeling and begging in this cell; here I became one of his servants. All this is so typical for that arrogant bastard, so extraordinarily well planned.” Snape gave a bitter laugh.
“But you left this room once, so maybe—“
“I left this cell, because he wanted my services as a truckling slave. Now I am a traitor. A servant who dared to betray his Master.”
Remus eyed the dark figure again as Snape settled himself on the floor. His stomach clenched furiously as he watched Snape wrap himself tightly in his ragged robes, his sleek black hair sticky with blood, clinging to the cavernous cheeks, and pitch black eyes looking tiredly back at Remus.
“It’s- I can’t believe that you would abase yourself! We don’t know each other very well, but I would never have expected you to kneel freely for anyone!” Although he had never liked Snape, he had always respected him – his strength and bravery. Twelve hours of begging for acceptance seemed impossible – even for Voldemort.
“Consider it a hidden talent.” Snape snorted. “Now shut up. I don’t plan to spend the last hours of my life to entertain the monstrous beast that will soon feed his hunger on my flesh.”
Remus watched Severus hugging his long legs up to his chest, turning himself into a tight black ball, and soon he heard a soft snoring from Snape’s corner of the cell. How could Snape sleep instead of searching a way out of this misery? Maybe the exhausted man had resigned himself to his situation, but Remus didn’t want to give up.
Maybe it was the moonlight that added an even paler look to Severus’ naturally white skin, or maybe it was the sallow colour of fading bruises from earlier torture Severus had to suffer at the hands of Death Eaters; maybe it was the way he had curled himself up into a small, embryonic sleeping position as if to protect himself. Gone were pride and the constant aura of dignity that seemed to surround him so naturally, so typically Severus, like his old-fashioned black robes. Severus had never looked more wretched to Remus. And, although Snape had refused to tell him what he had to endure before he had been brought down to their cell, Remus had some vivid ideas from the different smells that still clung to his black clothes.
The mere idea of killing the already half-dead man sent waves of nausea through his body, twisting his stomach in a way that left him breathless. Remus hugged his knees up to his chest, resting his forehead atop them. He had to find a way to save Snape’s life.
He wouldn’t kill that man. Remus didn’t know when he had come to the decision, but he was determined to follow it, once he had made up his mind. He wouldn’t kill Severus – and that was final, too.
* * *
Remus wondered how long he had been sitting on the cold, wet floor, watching the weary lines of Severus’ exhausted face, until he had finally gathered up the courage to wake the man whose hatred for him had wound its way through Remus’ whole life like a thick, black river.
Severus had never tried to hide his antipathy and loathing, not only for the werewolf, but for Remus in general, so he was quite sure that he already knew Severus’ answer to the offer he was going to make.
“Severus…hey, Severus…” Hesitantly he reached for Snape’s shoulder. “Severus, wake up. I know how we…I think I know a way out.”
With a low grunt Snape started to stir, abruptly opening his eyes and fixing Lupin with his dark gaze.
“What did you say?” the sleep-husky voice was barely a whisper.
“I think I know a way to, er save your life – or mine.” Remus sat back on the cold floor, forcing a half-hearted smile upon his lips. “But I don’t think you’ll like it very much.”
“Believe me, Lupin, any opportunity compared to being torn to shreds by a bloodthirsty werewolf with an appetite for fresh Slytherin flesh sounds rather attractive to me.” Obviously repressing a yawn, Severus sat up.
Remus’ mouth was so dry that it reminded him of sandpaper as he tried to gulp nervously. He knew that Snape definitely had a point there, but he couldn’t think of a way to tell his plan. So much for his Gryffindor bravado.
“So? Would you care to enlighten me?”
Remus again felt an uncomfortable burn in his stomach as he saw the angry frown on Severus’ pale face.
“For Merlin’s sake, Lupin, speak! If you know a way out of this misery, you must tell me. This it not a sick game; it is my life we are talking about!”
“Yes…er…your life, right. A very good point. Keep that in mind, Severus.” Wiping his sweaty hands on his trousers, Remus leant back against the wall, looking anywhere but at Snape.
“Ok…Severus. This will need some explanation, so feel free to ask if there’s anything you don’t understand. Right,” Once again, Remus felt the urge to wipe his hands dry. “As you might know, lycanthropy is a magical illness, which leads to certain changes of the human body, if one is infected with it. Not only the changing into a wolf form during the full moon, but also some physical changes of constant character.”
“Like your resistance against most common poisons?” Severus asked, still frowning at Remus, but obviously curious.
“Yes, indeed. I am immune against any herbal or animal poison. That’s one of the few benefits lycanthropy provides us with.” Remus smiled weakly. It was really a tiny benefit considering all the disadvantages.
“Lycanthropy is a disease that transforms any human who gets infected and is strong enough to live through the first days of illness into a magical creature. That is the reason why there isn’t a cure for it. Like …you can’t ‘cure’ a Veela from her beauty.”
Registering the short nod Snape made, Remus told himself that it was about time to get to the difficult part.
“As you must have realised during the last hours my human-self and my wolf-self are not completely exclusive; it is just that during the full moon the wolf-self is the dominant part, whilst my human-self has the upper hand for the rest of the time. They are equal parts of me –-"
“Equal parts? You must be kidding!” Severus looked totally flabbergasted, and Remus felt the nausea hit him again. He took a deep breath before he continued.
“No, it’s actually true. I have just learned to control my …wolfish tendencies.” Watching the shocked experience on Severus’ face, Remus wasn’t sure if telling one of his greatest secrets to Snape has been really a good idea. Well, he could worry about it later.
“Well, what I’m actually trying to tell you…There are certain rules and rites…natural rituals that grant the existence of werewolves. They provide that no werewolf would ever harm his own family -- which means his offspring or his mate.”
Remus caught the shocked expression on Snape’s face as realisation dawned. The pale cheeks flushed bright red, and his thin lips quirked in a show of disgust. Obviously Remus’ idea wasn’t so tempting anymore.
“Considering your obvious nervousness, I suppose the rite you are stuttering about is not to adopt me.”
Remus chuckled slightly, “I fear I don’t even know such a rite. But I know the mating one and all the necessities to form the bond between me and my chosen mate. Look, Severus, I know it is not a great idea, and I don’t know if it will work for us since I don’t love you and you…well, you hate me. But I think it might be a chance…and I would do it to save your life.”
“Oh how generous —“
“Stop it, Snape. If you think you are the only one having a bad time here, you are wrong, so stop mocking me!” Remus felt his anger burning inside him. Normally, he wasn’t one to get angry, but their situation was wearing him down.
“I don’t want to humiliate you, Severus. The mating ritual is the most important one of all the rites we have, and believe me, I would rather celebrate it with a person who’d love or at least respect me…or who I could love. Werewolves mate once in a lifetime, so if we survive I will be bound to you until I’m dead.”
“Or until I’m –“
“No, Severus,” a wry smile on his face, Remus looked down at his hands. “If you become my mate, there will be no one else for me. For the wolf it is a bond beyond death…that assures that the werewolf won’t kill his own offspring if his partner dies. It is a very powerful bond.”
“Quite a sacrifice you are offering me.” Snape’s face was cold as ever, showing that he wasn’t impressed by Remus’ speech, but considering it silently.
Remus tried to calm himself. He wouldn’t become a murderer. He would save Snape’s life. It would just take this one ritual. And was it really such a great offering? He hadn’t found anyone yet, and he was nearly forty, so how likely was it to ever change? None of his former girlfriends had been willing to prolong their relationship once they knew what he truly was, never mind to bond with him. No one wanted a werewolf.
“Severus, I know that this is the right thing to do. If it works, it will ensure that we’ll both survive the night – and I would become rather your mate than a murderer. So…uhm…since we both want to survive the full moon I suggest that we start with the ritual as soon as possible. If that’s ok with you?” Remus drew a deep breath, waiting for an answer.
“As I have already told you, Lupin, I can’t think of a single thing I wouldn’t choose over facing the mindless monster you doubtlessly will turn into tonight. So, I agree with you that, unappealing as the idea is, becoming your mate is the obvious choice. But beforehand, I want to set some things straight.”
Remus nodded, although Severus didn’t seem to wait for any encouragement to go on.
“If we survive the coming night, and as unlikely as it may seem, return to Hogwarts, all of this will stay between you and me. I don’t want anyone gossiping about my private life. Furthermore, I expect you to turn back to professional behaviour as soon as this is over. I don’t know how this bonding might affect you, but I don’t want to be the object of the affections of a lovesick –“
“Fine, Severus. I don’t plan serenading in front of your dungeon’s door. So I think we have a deal then?” Remus asked.
* * *
The ancient ritual included four parts. Although three or seven are commonly known as magical numbers, to werewolves four is the most important one, representing the four seasons and the cycle of the moon.
It took Remus nearly an hour to explain the basics of the Mating ritual to Severus, who questioned nearly every single step, and seemed quite reluctant to believe Remus. Interrupting Remus’ explanation with disapproving grunts and shooting him a sceptical glare every now and then, it was obvious that Severus was fairly disgusted by their situation.
“So, correct me if I am wrong, but you mean that, first, we have to get naked and stutter romantic nonsense, then you will carve symbols and letters into our skin, then I have to spill all my secrets to you, and afterwards you will fuck me—“
“Severus!” Remus felt blood flushing his cheeks.
“What? That’s exactly what you intend to do. A simple fuck.” Severus watched Remus’ face twist with embarrassment. “Not. Really. A. Big. Deal. At least for you. Goddamn.”
“Merlin…Severus, I’m sorry…I…”
“Stop it, Lupin. I don’t care for your apologies. I’d rather get it over with.” Severus glared at him, his eyes flashing with anger.
“Severus, we don’t have to do this. I…” Remus tried to will his sudden panic away. “I think I will be able to fight Moony long enough that you could kill me. Please, I would do it myself if he would let me.”
A low sigh left Severus’ throat and he looked up from his hands, locking eyes with Remus’. Then, silently he turned around and looked out of the window into the cloudy afternoon sky.
“Kill me or fuck me, Lupin. You may tell me when you have come to a decision.”
“W-What?” Remus swallowed dryly. Snape couldn’t leave the decision to him. The cold grip on his stomach was back, clenching, pressing hot bile up into his throat, and Remus wondered, how, after all those years, Snape still found a way under his skin. Appallingly, the ugly git must also have improved his ability to get him boiling with anger over the years.
“I don’t want to choose. I-I neither want to kill you, nor to…force you to become my mate. I don’t want any of this.”
“Bravo, Lupin, you finally got the point. You don’t want any of this. Unfortunately, you have to choose, otherwise your charming little wolfie will make the decision for you when the moon rises.” Snape sneered, looking quite pleased. “As you may have finally realised neither of those dreadful options is particularly appealing to me, either, but I would very much appreciate it if I would at least survive.”
Rubbing his forehead with his too-cold fingers, Remus sighed deeply, trying to calm down.
“Ok, Severus…I’m just sorry for our situation. I really don’t want you to suffer…but I’m filthy and dirty from my days here, and I’ve never ever…with a guy, you know. All I have is second-hand information from Peter and I’m really afraid that won’t help much.”
“And I bet ending up as wolf-food will be a highly pleasurable experience.” Severus snorted, one eyebrow raised.
“Well, fine. I think it would be best to start as soon as possible…but, erm, I might need some help to…m-mate with you.” Another warm wave of blood rushed to his cheeks.
“I think I am able to assist you on this matter.” A matching red flush rose to Severus’ face, and Remus felt his nervousness ease a little bit. It was good to know that Severus was nervous as well.
* * *
They shed their clothes in complete silence, and Remus felt his cheeks blush furiously as he first dropped his trousers and then his pants, leaving him completely naked. Being naked in front of another man wasn’t the problem, but being naked in front of Snape definitely was. God, he had never wanted Snape to see him. His scars. He knew too well what he must look like. The deep scars reached from his ribcage to the soft flesh where his right leg met his pelvis. The uneven flesh of his shoulder and back, with its purple lines and red claw marks, looked like the drawing of an insane artist. Absentmindedly, he stroked the huge scar that parted the muscular flesh of his right thigh, winding down from his hip to his knee like a red dreadful river. Bracing himself for Snape’s snide comments, Remus finally turned around.
Snape’s pale skin was marred with cuts and bruises, and considering the amount of blood he had smelled on Snape earlier he wasn’t surprised. One of Snape’s bony shoulders looked oddly blue, like it had been dislocated, and harshly put back in place. There were also small bruises all along his ribs, and the greatest part of his pelvis was covered by a huge, dark bruise that held an undeniable resemblance to a footprint, leading from his protruding hipbone down to his…
Snape flushed bright red under his gaze. Remus realised that, for the first time, the dark haired man wasn’t spitting sarcastic insults at him. It took a moment for Remus to register that he hadn’t been the only one caught staring; Snape had also been looking at him.
All of a sudden, Remus wished that Snape would make a harsh comment about his condition or his emaciated body; anything that would break the uncomfortable silence.
“Quite a pair we make.” He tried jokingly, embarrassment still burning fiercely in his stomach, turning his cheeks into tiny supernovas.
“For heaven’s sake, be quiet!” Snape barked. “I don’t want to talk with you, and I don’t want you to talk more than is absolutely necessary. We will complete the ritual and nothing more. Do I make myself clear?”
“Of course…” Remus shrugged. He wasn’t keen on small talk, either, and considering that there wasn’t plenty of time until moonrise they might as well get started.
“Well, ok …Severus. May I start then?” As Snape vigorously nodded his head, Remus lowered himself to the stone floor, and indicated for Snape to do the same and sit down in front of him.
“Fine. First of all, I have to –“
“Merlin, I know what you have to do, Lupin! You explained it merely an hour ago. Just do it, or may I make the first step?” Snape scowled at him, snorting slightly, before he spat the next words. “Herewith, I, Severus Snape, ask you, Remus Lupin, to accept me as your mate. Therefore, I offer you my blood, my trust, and my…passion.”
Using the sharp nail of his left finger Remus slit into the soft flesh of his right palm, opening it along his lifeline. Then, he dipped his forefinger into the small flood of red blood, coating it thoroughly with the thick fluid, and placed it in the middle of Snape’s chest. With shaky fingers he drew a small, red R right above Snape’s breastbone.
“I accept you as my mate and with this- “ Gathering more blood with his fingertip, he wrote a curved S on his own chest. “I promise you my blood, my trust, and my love.”
The blood was still streaming from his wound in warm waves, sloshing on his thighs and the stone floor as he pointed it to Severus. Snape’s sallow face paled even further as he looked at Remus’ bleeding hand, his face distorted in disgust.
“You need my blood to gain the immunity to lycanthropy, Severus. Please, drink.”
Remus watched in awe as Severus brought his thin lips to the pulsing wound in his hand, the red fluid smearing his pale skin, dribbling slowly down his chin. The soft suckling on his abused flesh was absolutely wonderful. Snape’s lips were warm and pleasant, and when he felt a silky slide of Severus’ tongue caressing the rim of his wound, he couldn’t suppress a low moan. With his free hand he reached for the black strands of Snape’s hair, keeping it from falling into the other man’s eyes.
A deep moan crossed Severus’ blood-red lips, and Remus heard himself groan deeply as the heavenly movement of Severus warm lips against his palm continued. Drunk on the picture in front of him, he barely recognised the thrumming warmth that spread featherlike across his chest, pulsing like a second heartbeat from the small, bloody S.
“Can you feel it?” Cold fingertips ghosted over his heated skin, and he realised that Severus had stopped drinking, his eyes fixed on the midst of Remus’ chest.
“Incredible, isn’t it? It feels like liquid peace calming me.” He pressed his fingers softly on the blood-drawn R on Snape’s pale skin, and he wasn’t really surprised to find a similar pulse there. “Most rites of the werewolves don’t acquire spells or incantations. They are based on specific actions; so the magic of this rite must already be working.”
Remus opened his right hand, showing his palm to Severus. The wound was still there and his whole hand was smeared with blood and spit, but the deep cut had stopped bleeding.
“Let’s continue.” Snape whispered, wiping any remains of Remus’ blood off his lips with the back of his bony hand.
“Ok. I trust you with my greatest fear…” Remus sighed slightly. “Well, you already know my greatest fear, I guess. Why else would I beg you for the wolfsbane potion each month?”
“Your werewolf-self is your worst fear? That’s ridiculous.” Snape frowned.
“You don’t understand it, Severus. Being a werewolf doesn’t mean that you turn into a wolf once a month…like…like an Animagus. An Animagus has always the full control over his animal-self, while I have nothing. When I have the wolfsbane potion I feel and think like a human, and it helps me to deal with Moony. Without the potion I’m completely helpless, and he knows it. He always knows it when he’s the one in control, and he hates me for controlling him most of his time. When he’s free of your potion and the moon rises, the only thing he wants is to punish me for keeping him in chains. Have you ever asked yourself why I hurt myself when I’m in my wolf form?”
Remus waited for a snide comment and braced himself for the sneer that was surely to come, so he was totally perplexed as Snape stayed silent and just nodded his head.
“He does it because he knows that after the full moon the pain and the scars will be mine.” Remus looked away from Severus’ black gaze, as if he was ashamed to admit the words that wanted to slip out of his mouth. “I fear him as much as you do…he’s a beast.”
“I agree, he is.“ Severus said calmly. “May a sufficient supply of wolfsbane potion each month find your acceptance?”
Ignoring the first remark, Remus nodded.
“Then, I promise you my help.” The light pulse on their chests increased and Remus’ watched the red letter thrum vividly. “Moreover, I offer you my greatest fear just as the rite demands. At the moment, my greatest fear is to get killed by a raging werewolf.”
“But that’s hardly your greatest fear.” He looked wide-eyed at Snape’s pale features, trying to detect any sign of mockery.
“I fear death in general, its finality. The mere idea of my existence ending sickens me. I don’t mean the pain of dying, I can handle pain or torture, but I don’t want to stop being.”
“You? You led the riskiest life among Albus’ followers. Merlin, you were a Death Eater and… and a spy. How could you do all that? Why have you…” He paused, staring at Severus, and suddenly he felt unable to form another sentence.
“I did what was necessary, but that does in no way mean I did it eagerly.” Said Severus as he clenched his hands into fists. “No one knows if there is an afterlife. And who would be there waiting for me? My family? Certainly not. My friends? Sure, because I have so many. Believe me, Lupin, in my opinion, a minute in this world is worth endlessness in the other one.”
“I promise you as much time in this world as possible and I will do my best to save you - I don’t want you to die.”
“I know, Lupin. And I accept.”
The moment Severus had spoken the words Remus felt a sharp sting in his chest, burning hotly like a painful curse.
“God, it burns. I really hope it is supposed to do that,” Remus choked out, pressing his hand over the fiercely throbbing S on his chest as if he could repress its pulse. “I hope you don’t mind if we rush things a bit?”
Instead of answering his question, Severus turned around and grabbed the heap of robes, using them as an improvised blanket.
“Do you want me on my back or up on all fours?”
Remus felt himself blush beet-red at the blunt question. ”Sweet Merlin, I said rush things a little bit, not skip foreplay completely! What about preparation?”
“Spit will be sufficient, since we don’t have anything comparable to lube.”
Dear God. The idea of pushing his cock into Severus’ body without something to properly ease the way sent a new wave of nausea through his body. “Do you truly think it’ll do? Maybe we can think of something more comfortable to--”
“Compared to the burning inferno on my chest I will hardly feel it, so if you want to do me a favour, do it fast. I really don’t care about preparation; I’m not a bloody virgin.”
“But I am, so excuse me for being a bit at a loss here. I’ve never done anything with a bloke; I’m just trying not to hurt you.”
“For Merlin’s sake, Lupin, stop whining! Sex is pain. It had never been anything else and I don’t mind, so stop treating me like china. Save your breath for someone who needs it.”
Remus eyed the skinny form in front of him once more. Severus’ skin was ghostly white, so pale that his whole body seemed to glow from the inside. The perfect ivory embellished by delicate lines of the finest blue and some dark bruises, patterning him like a precious piece of porcelain.
Although he was still nervous as a teenager, he was also sure that he wouldn’t give in and cause Severus harm. Severus said that spit was enough; so better make sure that he was thoroughly prepared.
“Turn over! And up on all fours.” He commanded, and was surprised when Severus complied without hesitation. Apparently, Severus believed that Remus would do exactly what he’d asked for.
Flushing furiously as Severus got up on his hands and knees, providing him with a perfect view of his pale cheeks and the usually so intimately hidden rosy flesh of his entrance, Remus moved forward until he was merely an inch away from Severus’ promising flesh.
God, this shouldn’t be too different from oral sex with woman. He had gone down on all of his girlfriends, and moreover he had enjoyed it, so why was he faltering now?
Because he had never put his tongue up anyone’s arse before.
Remus tried to ignore the voice whispering inside his head, and instead placed his nervously shaking hands on the skinny hips of the other man, softly caressing the warm flesh with his thumb.
“Dear God, will you start fucking – “
The sharp intake of breath told Remus that this was most certainly not exactly what Severus had expected him to do.
Parting the cheeks with his thumbs, Remus planted a few kisses along Severus’ cleft, stopping meaningfully at his tiny hole before snaking a slick swipe over the satin skin. Circling, teasing the quivering pucker with the tip of his tongue, Remus savoured the ragged breathing and the sweet whimpering sounds Severus made that went directly to his cock, which was responding with a long forgotten fervour. Sealing his lips to the tight ring, Remus sucked softly, nibbling and licking and wetting the rosy flesh with each stroke of tongue.
God, this wasn’t so bad after all, Remus thought. Completely different to eating out women, but Remus decided that he rather liked it. The strong flesh under his tongue was enticing and Severus’ heavy musky scent was powerful and intoxicating, and Remus suddenly needed more, more of his scent, more of his warmth. He felt his tongue dart out on his own volition, pushing past the soft pucker that gave way to his moist ministration easily. Demanding, claiming, devouring, a multitude of new sensations.
“Oh…my god…Lu-pin.” Severus gasped, squirming, parting his legs and pressing towards Remus’ tongue in a silent question.
Remus smiled impishly, enjoying the tiny noises and pants that left Severus mouth when he twisted his tongue. Suckling greedily on the silken skin, he let his right hand travel along the knobbly curve of Severus’ spine, soothing, caressing his skin, and then moving back down to a bony hip. He ran his fingertips over a slim thigh, enjoying Severus’ shivers as he ran his nails over the sensitive flesh.
Reluctantly, Remus pulled his tongue away, swiping it tenderly over the rosy flesh. “Please, turn over, Severus.”
Snape’s muscles quivered as he lay down on his back, the normally sallow skin of his face flushed red. Black eyes flaming with desire roamed Remus’ skin, and Remus risked a quick glance at Snape’s cock. He was huge and erect, and already wet with come.
He eyed Severus’ cock suspiciously. He had never touched a prick except his own.
Hesitantly, he placed his fingertip on the dripping slit, smearing the wetness curiously and encouraged by Severus’ erratic breathing he closed his around the hard flesh, stroking it slowly.
“Severus? I, er, need some assistance.”
“No…” A deep moan left Snape’s mouth, eyes closed and head lolling back. “You…don’t need help. You…oh.. are doing perfectly well.”
Remus chuckled, slightly embarrassed that the only compliment Snape ever gave him referred to his wanking skills. “Severus, I can’t prepare you any further…my fingernails are rather sharp. Can uhm…can you do it yourself?”
“No, I don’t want to. Just g-go…ohh…on.”
As Remus hand stilled in its movement, Snape’s eyes snapped open staring at him in disbelief. “Dear Lord, why are you stopping, Lupin? I told you I don’t mind!”
“You’d rather do it without preparation? Why?” When Severus’ already rosy cheeks reddened even further, it finally dawned on Remus and he cursed himself silently. “Ooh…uhm…why didn’t you tell me? Merlin, and I was afraid to hurt you…but if you like it that way I won’t debate with you about proper preparation…I don’t mind a little pain, either.” A smug grin crossed his face.
“I’m happy to amuse you, Lupin,” Snape scoffed, scowling at him.
Paying no attention to Severus, Remus used the sharp nail of his finger to open the wound in his hand once again. The red stream wetted his palm and his fingers quickly, and with a long sigh he closed his warm, wet hand around his half-hard cock.
Heavenly. He pressed his shaft with his strong fingers, gliding smoothly over hot flesh, pumping him with just the right speed. Sighing loudly, he worked himself a little bit more, coating his cock with a red layer of blood. He was pleased as he heard soft whimpers in front of him.
Severus’ black eyes were fixed on Remus’ bloody hand fisting his cock, following every move of his finger. Spurred on by tiny moans spilling from thin lips and Snape’s fast breathing, Remus thrust into his fist, indulging in the maddening bliss of building climax.
“Care to complete the rite, Severus?”
Drawing a deep breath, he leant forward, placing his left hand next to Snape’s shoulder and using his right to adjust his wet cock. He shuddered as he felt the tight ring of Severus’ pucker press against the tip of his prick as the other man lifted his hips. He inhaled once, twice, then held his breath and slowly pushed his cock into the tight channel of Snape’s arse. Both men screamed, an overture of pain and pleasure echoing off the stone walls and sending goose bumps all over his skin.
Severus hissed into his ear and grabbed at his back, pulling him even deeper, thrusting his hips upwards, taking him, wanting him, and Remus knew that he wouldn’t last long. Strong arms wrapped around his waist, stronger than he would have expected, encouraging him to move – faster, harder. The thrumming on his chest matched the rhythm of his blood pulsing in his cock, and he felt as if his whole body was going to explode.
He felt drops of sweat gathering on his forehead and on his back as his hips moved in a frantic rhythm. Suddenly it didn’t matter that this was a man he was pounding into. It didn’t matter that this was Severus Snape, of all people. His smell so musky and strong, his strong arms, his hard flesh – it all seemed so normal, so perfect. It seemed so completely right.
Lowering his head slowly to give Severus a chance to pull away, Remus traced his tongue along Severus’ jaw, gathering and tasting his salty sweat. How could he not love this? How could he not love him?
A short glance at Severus’ writhing figure and Remus moaned as need overtook him. He wanted more. More of Severus, more of his scent, his taste, all of him; and he searched hungrily for Snape’s mouth, kissing him, pushing his tongue into the sweet warmth of Severus mouth, feeding him, fucking him in the same constant rhythm as he did with his cock.
One deep thrust and he felt Severus shuddering in his arms, a blissful heat spreading between them, warming his belly, enticing him with a sinful scent that made him light-headed. Another thrust and he felt his back arch of its own volition, sheathing his cock even deeper, and a hot explosion washed over him, making his toes curl and his skin crawl, as wave after wave burst out of his body.
He held Severus close, gently stroking his hair when, finally, their mouths parted with a soft sigh, and Remus pressed a gentle kiss to Snape’s forehead as the thin man shivered in the aftershocks of his violent orgasm. Forcing himself to move, he pulled his already flaccid cock slowly out of Severus’ warmth and lay down next to him.
“Dear Lord…that was intense,” said Remus as he traced a fingertip over the small R on Severus’ chest. The bright colour of his dried blood had vanished and was replaced by a thin, dark line looking similar to a brand. That was when he realised that the uncomfortable feeling, the heat and the burn were gone, too. “Looks like it worked.”
“Obviously,” came the short reply, and shakily Severus rose to his feet, gathering his clothes immediately.
“So much for afterglow, hm?” Remus rolled over onto his left side, watching Severus get dressed.
“Leave me in peace, Lupin.”
“What? I didn’t mean to upset you, Severus. What’s wrong?” Remus frowned, truly concerned. Something was definitely wrong.
“I didn’t want any of this, ok? You don’t have to be concerned just because we’re mated, Lupin. I did this to save my life. Nothing. Has. Changed.”
Stumbling to his feet, Remus grabbed Severus by his arm, pulling him around. “But something has changed. Don’t tell me that you can’t feel it. I have seen it in your eyes…the kiss…the mating”
“I don’t feel anything and I don’t want you, Lupin. I. Don’t. Want. You. I want to leave this cell, and then I want you to leave me alone. Did I make myself clear?” Snatching his arm away, Severus went towards the door, silently resting against it.
Remus felt the hot flames of hate flaring up, heating him, boiling angrily. He was caught. Trapped. And his mate was angry. Didn’t want him. The rage in him was violent, urgent and…primal, and as the first dark growl left his throat he realised, that this was Moony raging inside of him. Pressing him back, gaining the upper hand.
The first pang of his transformation hit him, caught him by surprise. A quick glance to the window. The moon was full - oh so beautiful.
A sharp scent hit his nostrils. Fear. Severus.
The thin figure clutched at the wooden door, pressing himself into it, trying to open it with sheer will. No chance. A swirl of robes and he turned around. Pleading. Remus. His name. Once. Twice. The last thing he heard, as Moony took over.