Title: Make You Want to Stay
Disclaimer: I am a simple purveyor of fanfiction, owning nothing. JKR owns all the good stuff.
Pairing: LM/RL, SS/RL
Rating: PG-13 I would say. No sex. No almost sex. But still.
Beta: the most wonderful and brilliant Loz (you are my goddess) Warnings: mentions of a little tippling in the alcohol and/or drugs (the tiniest bit I promise)
Notes: For Master and the Wolf Fourth Wave, Challenge 147: Marauder's time: everybody loves Remus, 'course he is so sweet, sexy, nice, intelligent, calm but he has also an inner wildness..., even Slytherins like Malfoy find him attractive. Everybody but one - Severus. Really?
Make You Want to Stay
Tonight the excuse was the end of exams. Another year over and done with. Really, it was just another ploy to get drunk. It was surprising the lengths a Slytherin would go to just to gulp down huge amounts of firewhiskey and eventually pass out And here was Severus in the middle of it, hating every second. He’d much rather have been in the library, but Lucius had made him swear, said he spent too much time with his nose in a book.
Looking around, Severus didn’t see too much he would mind missing. He sneered. If only the rest of the school could see could see the powerful Slytherins now, drunk off their arses and chatting up Hufflepuffs.
Well, chatting was a gross overstatement. The few non Slytherin ‘guests’ at any dungeon party were almost exclusively there for one reason: to serve as party favours. They were smuggled in, plied with firewhiskey or another mind altering substance of choice, and would sneak out the next morning nursing a double dose of hangover and humiliation. There were never any complaints.
However, among the throng were a select number who entered the dungeons entirely of their own volition; most were Ravenclaws, their never ending thirst for knowledge driving them to find new experiences, even if those experiences were with a Slytherin. But the person who stood out the most was the lone lion cub in the snake’s den.
Potter and Black’s very own third wheel.
In the beginning, he’d been the same as many of Slytherin’s conquests: It was the aftermath of the first Quidditch match of the season; Slytherin had won in a landslide. Severus came in from the dorms and there Lupin was, obviously drunk and being passed from the Quidditch captain to some seventh year to a Ravenclaw from Severus’ year. That was when Lucius stepped in. Lucius: cool, blonde, beautiful Lucius, descended into the fray and came back out with Lupin on his arm. And that is where the Gryffindor stayed, appearing in the common room at least once or twice a month from then on.
So Severus, like the rest of Slytherin, was no longer surprised to see the Gryffindor; he had gone from novelty to fixture in just a year. Severus did wonder at times what kind of excuses Lupin fed his cronies. Potter and Black were obviously ignorant as there had been no spectacular explosion, which was sure to occur once those two idiots actually found out exactly where their pet lap dog spent his nights.
Until then, Severus marvelled at the transition that turned the Lupin that let Black natter him to death in class into the Lupin that danced against Lucius Malfoy at night, body morphed into the perfect snake to Malfoy’s charm.
And as if he’d been conjured by the mere thought, Lucius glided by, Lupin in tow. They were waltzing, as always. No matter what music played, Lucius waltzed. He took Lupin on long slow turns around the floor; Severus knew he only did it to show off his prize. Lupin was his. No one dared tell a Malfoy anything different, not even Lupin.
But while Lucius excelled in everything elegant and graceful, Severus always had a talent for the hidden and subtle. He sat in his corner of the common room and watched. Watched the barely noticeable tightening of Lucius’s fingers on Lupin’s arm when another boy came too close. Watched the way Lucius watched his pet Gryffindor’s every move when the two of them were apart. And most telling, watched Lupin’s face when the couple passed him.
Lupin had eyes the colour of blossom honey that seemed to fill up the whole world; Severus couldn’t look away. It didn’t help that they were always looking back at him over Lucius’ shoulder. Severus knew he shouldn’t return those stares, but he couldn’t help following every move Lupin made.
It was his greatest secret: he was in love.
But he didn’t know what to do about it.
Lupin might look at him, but that was all. How could a Gryffindor love a Slytherin? Lucius? -- that wasn’t love. That was possession. Severus didn’t want to own Lupin; he wanted to touch him, and not see disgust on the other boy’s face. He wanted to know that someone, anyone cared for him, as Severus had never been cared for in his life. But Lupin, he had Lucius didn’t he? He had Potter and Black. He had friends. He ran outside after classes and the sun sparked off his hair like fire. Severus knew that no matter how desperate Lupin looked, there would never be a place for him. Not Severus. Not Snape. He had resigned himself to being alone.
So while the rest of Slytherin partied, Severus threw his promise to Lucius to the wind and disappeared into the library. At least with his nose in a book he wouldn’t have to think about anything else. He settled into a dusty corner that Madame Pince had yet to find and soon immersed himself in a slightly battered copy of Potent Poisons and Preparations, the first book he’d pulled off the shelf in his rush to bury himself in the stacks. By the time he looked up again it was well past four in the morning. He rubbed his eyes and decided it was safe enough to return to the dorms. He placed Poisons and Preparations back on the shelf and headed towards the door.
He’d just passed the Restricted Section when someone yanked him backwards. Severus found himself nose to nose with Remus Lupin.
Severus tried to pry the Gyffindor‘s fingers from his wrist. “People tend to do that when they no longer wish to be where they are.”
He had never been this close to Lupin before. He noticed the golden dusting of freckles across Lupin’s nose and the faint scar just above his lip.
“Lucius said you promised. He said you’d be there all night.”
The Slytherin curled his lip. “Lucius isn’t my keeper.”
Lupin snorted, “You’re saying he’s mine?” Lupin’s eyes glowed. They really did take up the whole world. “I do what I want Se-ver-us.” The faint scent of alcohol followed his words.
Severus wrinkled his nose. “You’ve been drinking. Get off me!”
“You had to get drunk?”
“’m not drunk. I just had one. Needed it.”
Severus’ patience was wearing thin. This was more than he should have to bear, cornered in the library by the one person he could not have. “What could you possibly need a drink for other than to get pissed?” he snapped.
Lupin seemed to waver for a moment. “For this -- ”
And Lupin pushed him hard against the bookshelves and kissed him.
Lupin’s tongue in his mouth, hands clutching at his robe, Severus had never felt so alive.
He remembered Lucius’ voice dark and dripping like molasses:
“He smoulders Severus. It feels like burning alive, and it is the most delicious thing you’ll ever experience. He’s much too good to be a Gryffindor, that hat is obviously senile. It can no longer separate the wheat from the chaff.”
That night he had jerked his pyjama shirt over his head and pulled the curtains tight around his four poster, hating Lucius more than he’d ever done. When he’d finally slept his dreams were filled with a sandy haired boy chasing him through a field of fire lilies.
But Severus’ dreams could have never have prepared him for this, not this.
The heat radiating from Lupin’s skin felt like a small sun, and Severus felt each hand leaving incandescent fingerprints across his chest. Those honey eyes that Severus longed for were melting, just for him. And Lupin’s sandy hair curled in ringlets at the nape of his neck. Severus felt a funny pressure building in his chest, almost as if his heart was trying to fly out from behind his ribs. He couldn’t think of one thing more wonderful and terrible than this.
And then it stopped.
Lupin was looking at him. “I’ve wanted to do that all year.”
Severus felt unease roil in his stomach. Bile rose up in his throat.
“I think we should do it again.” Lupin was nothing if not straightforward.
“What about Lucius?” Severus’ voice cracked at the end. He couldn’t bear it if he had to give Lupin up, not now. He would curl up and wither. A husk to blow away in the first good wind.
He didn’t know love would feel quite like this.
Lupin crossed his arms. “He’ll be pissed. He probably won’t get over it. I don’t care…do you?”
Severus gave him the only answer he could think of – he kissed Lupin back.
When he finally let go, Lupin smiled contentedly. “Remus,” he whispered.
“That’s my name. If I’m gonna be your boyfriend you should use my first name.”
Severus blinked. Boyfriend? He tried the name out, “Remus” – it rolled off his tongue as if it belonged there. Looking at the boy in front of him, he realised it did.