Fic: Imperfect, Snape/Lupin NC-17
Title: Imperfect
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Snape and Lupin meet secretly during the war.
Thanks to siyamau and ion_bond for the fatabulous betas, the comments, discussion, and encouragement. And siyamau also for the brit-picking.
October 12, 1981
A cold rain was not so much falling as swimming in the air. It smudged the light around the street lamps like a badly executed lumos. Remus Lupin's threadbare tweed jacket offered no protection against the freezing wind. He was walking down a dark street, his collar turned up and his hands buried deep in his pockets. His ears burned from the cold but his nose had gone numb. He could almost imagine an icicle hanging from the scarred tip. He wasn't quite sure why he was here, after dark, in completely unfamiliar territory. Actually, he did know why, he just wasn't sure it was the smartest thing he'd ever done.
Not smart and not the first time.
He'd been on personal business in Knockturn Alley, three weeks earlier. He'd heard a rumour, a potion treatment for werewolves. These things were wishful thinking half the time, the other half, swindles. Either way, he had a vested interest.
Rain that day too, he remembered raindrops clinging to his robe as he entered the antique bookshop stacked high with parchments and cracking leather bound volumes.
"Severus." He stopped short; splashing raindrops all over Severus Snape who stood there near the door craning over a parchment, researching -something, Lupin had forgotten to ask.
"Lupin." Snape slammed the parchment under a nearby book. His eyes darted quickly around the shop.
"I haven't seen you since school."
Snape stood frozen. He stared straight at Lupin.
"How are you?" Lupin said cheerfully, he felt inexplicably pleased to see Snape.
"Why?"
"I'm just making conversation."
"Do you live here?" asked Snape, suddenly.
"Knockturn Alley?" Lupin was confused.
"No, London. Do you live in London?"
"No, why?" Lupin asked suspiciously.
"You wanted conversation," Snape said, "Black's here."
"Where?" Lupin twisted to look around.
"Black's here in London," Snape said sharply. "He lives here."
"I know," said Lupin, returning his gaze to Snape. Snape kept staring at Lupin and there was something in his look, Lupin couldn't say what it was but it was so familiar.
"I just heard. You don't live with him."
"No."
"Oh. Where?"
"Why d'ya ask?"
"I want to know so that I can find you and kill you in your sleep," said Snape dryly.
"All right," Lupin turned to leave.
"We both know what the other is." Snape had reached out to touch Lupin's shoulder, just lightly, with the tips of his fingers.
"You mean-"
"It's not much of a secret, you know, your secret order of the pheasant."
"Phoenix."
"So you don't live with Black," said Snape patronizingly, "you live where?"
"God, it's not a secret. Chudley, with my parents."
"No wife and kiddies, then."
"No."
"Confirmed bachelor?"
"Where are you living these days, Severus?"
"Here."
"Knockturn All-"
"No. London." And Lupin had realized what he'd seen in Snape's gaze, it was what was in his.
"Alone?"
And Snape had just looked at him and nodded.
That was three weeks ago, now he was wandering around in the middle of the night, wet, freezing, lost possibly. He stopped and scanned the line of blackened buildings stretching out in front of him and then turned around to look at an identical row trailing behind. Muggle London made him feel so disoriented and he'd only been to this address one time before. He kept reminding himself of that; only once before. It wasn't a habit, twice did not make it a habit. He looked at the building directly across the street, squat and unassuming. He was pretty sure that this was the place; he sensed a faint trace of magic emanating from it, but that could have been his imagination.
It had been stupid to follow Snape that day and stupider to return. But Lupin had this- this something he wanted; it burned and pounded in his throat. Besides these days Lupin was convinced it was easier to trust an enemy than a stranger, that's how turned around everything was. And he could never think of Severus as dangerous, just the creepy boy who followed him everywhere at school. Snape, rumoured to know more curses than Grindelwald - harmless. Stupid of me, thought Lupin, or arrogant more like.
As he trudged up the stairs, Lupin practiced his Occlumens. He knew Snape was good at these things but he thought he might be better. It was the sort of thing you had to be good at when you had a lot of secrets and Lupin had been carrying around secrets as long as he could remember. Strangely, accidentally, Snape knew so many of Lupin's secrets. He knew about the shack and other things. Lupin remembered Snape in Dumbledore's office glaring at the Headmaster and staring darkly at Lupin but Dumbledore told Snape to promise and he had, he'd promised not to tell. It was funny how many of Lupin's secrets were tied up in Snape.
Within a few minutes, he'd hiked up four stories and stood, out of breath, in front of a faded green door with a tarnished brass knocker. It was only slightly warmer in the hallway than it had been outside. Lupin was soaked and shivering, his wet trouser legs plastered to his skin. He was about to knock when the door swung open. Wards, he thought, looking around for any tell-tale shimmers.
"Your ears are red," said Snape inexplicably.
"What?" said Lupin. Severus Snape was standing in the doorway dressed all in black and doing his best to loom.
"Your -" Snape reached out and touched the edge of Lupin's ear, sliding a finger gently down the edge.
Lupin unconsciously leaned into Snape's hand. Snape stiffened and looked furtively up and down the hallway. He stepped back and made room for Remus.
"Come in."
"Oh, thank-you. I -"
Once the door was closed, Snape stooped down to kiss him. Snape was taller than Lupin but he slouched with his neck craned forward like a vulture. It was Lupin's turn to pull back; he leaned away from Snape until he lost his balance and bumped his head lightly against the door. Snape snapped upright and looked angrily at Lupin.
"It's -" said Lupin, straightening.
"What?" Snape interrupted.
He stepped backward and gave Lupin a full view of the one-room flat. It looked exactly as Lupin remembered it. It had grey walls and a generally grey feel. A steady, swaying light from car headlamps streaked in through a tiny window at regular intervals, accompanied by the constant noise of rain and the occasional sad moan of car horns. The flat was cheap, Lupin knew, no hot water, no bathroom, no cooker, no refrigerator, nothing but a sink. There was a Formica kitchen table, surrounded by mismatched kitchen chairs. There wasn't much other furniture except for a bed pressed against the grey wall opposite the door. The room smelled of mildew.
"It's just that I'm cold. I'm soaking wet." Lupin's teeth chattered.
Snape looked put out.
"Here." he pointed to a tiny grate in the far corner of the room and then went to the sink to fill an electric kettle with water. Lupin used his wand to start a fire and wondered why Snape would use some strange muggle device to make tea instead of just using a spell. He's had Muggles here, thought Lupin, as he pulled off his wet jacket. He's made them tea.
Lupin hung his jacket on the back of a chair. He mumbled a charm to produce a forceful stream of hot air from the tip of his wand. He used it dry his trouser legs as much as possible. Satisfied, he turned it on himself drying the damp strands of hair that hung in his face.
Snape turned and looked at him, "What's that?"
"What?" Lupin could barely hear over the whooshing sound his wand was making. His hair floated around his head like a lion's mane.
"On your face. What's on your face?" Snape shouted.
"You mean -"
"You're growing a moustache?"
"Grown one. I've grown one. I mean, I don't think it will come in any better than this."
"It's disgusting."
"You're hardly one to talk. Really, Snape when did you become particular about appearances?" The charm ended abruptly and Lupin's face felt even colder than before in the sudden absence of warmth.
"It doesn't hide the scars at all."
"I -"
"Tea."
"What?"
"Here's your tea." Snape thrust a chipped mug towards Lupin. Lupin grabbed it and peered into it apprehensively. In the bottom lay a round, flat teabag. The cup didn't look particularly clean but he had only a moment to pray that it hadn't been used for any potion work before Snape was filling it with hot water from the muggle electric contraption.
"Chair", said Snape pointing at a kitchen chair parked near the tiny fireplace. Lupin sat down and stared at the tea seeping in his mug. There was a tiny side table next to the chair and he set his cup there.
"Do you have any sugar?"
Snape was leaning against the grimy countertop that held the sink. He had no tea of his own. Lupin was a bit amused to see that he'd managed to make Snape look even more annoyed. Snape sighed and turned to open several cupboards. As far as Lupin could tell they were mostly empty. What did Snape eat, he wondered, by the looks of him not much. He doesn't live here, thought Lupin. He just uses this place for-
"That's either sugar or cream of tartar, possibly rat poison. I'd check it first if I were you." said Snape, tossing Lupin an old jam jar filled with a white powdery substance.
Lupin caught it awkwardly, nearly falling out of his chair.
"And to think you never played Quidditch," said Snape, hurtling a spoon towards Lupin's head.
Lupin blocked the spoon which went clattering to the floor.
"Shut up and get me something to eat." said Lupin. He retrieved the spoon and took a tentative taste of the white crystals. "Toast would be nice."
Satisfied that it was sugar and not arsenic or something worse, Lupin began spooning scoop after scoop into his cup.
Snape scoffed, "Toast. You're lucky I had sugar. Here." he said tossing Lupin an open box of biscuits.
"Chocolate. Lovely. Thanks." said Lupin. They were stale but he devoured them eagerly, washing them down with hot, sweet tea. He was starting to feel human again. He settled into that feeling, savoured it. The full moon would be up the next night.
The fire in the grate sputtered. "Is that fireplace-"
"That?"
"Yes. Is it on the floo network?" said Lupin, swallowing the last of his tea.
"Why?" said Snape suspiciously.
"Why? You could have saved me a really cold walk. I mean-"
"It isn't. Too small, obviously."
"I suppose," said Lupin. He imagined it was too small for travel, not messages though. It was probably on a floo network, not the official one, but a network of some kind.
"Done?" said Snape.
"Yes. I-"
Lupin kept staring at the fire. He couldn't stop picturing Avery's head popping up in a fury of green flames.
"No one will- It's -"
Snape seemed to have read his thoughts so clearly that Lupin slammed up an Occlumens without even thinking.
"I wasn't." said Snape, exasperated. "It's just your face- Here."
He moved swiftly and deliberately forward. He leaned over and gripped Lupin's chin with his strong fingers, pulling Lupin's face upwards to kiss him very hard. It was all noses colliding and sour tongue but Lupin returned the kiss eagerly. This is what he came for after all; it was certainly not for the tea. It's what he'd come for, he corrected himself. This was only the second time, twice wasn't a habit, it wasn't a pattern of behaviour.
Still he ached all the time for this; the rough feel of stubble against his cheeks, wiry flesh beneath his fingers, and it was a kind of happiness to have it finally. It was a kind of relief that made Lupin rise up into Snape's kiss, to slip his arms around Snape's waist and pull him as tight as he could against himself. There was unpleasantness, Snape smelled of grease and sulphur, but really nothing was unpleasant. It was what he wanted. And even if it wasn't, it would do for now. Snape's lips were warm but his fingers cold as they found their way under Lupin's shirt. Snape squeezed a nipple hard and Lupin cried out, breaking the kiss for the first time.
Lupin looked up at Snape. That close, his nose was enormous, his mouth was bright red from kissing and his lips were very wet and shiny. He looked younger, like he'd looked at Hogwarts, the way Lupin remembered him- strange and vulnerable. Lupin smiled widely and Snape turned his attention to unbuttoning Lupin's shirt.
Snape never smiled. At least Lupin had never seen him smile and couldn't imagine that he ever did. It was strange to Lupin, all those years at Hogwarts he'd been surrounded by easy smiles, happy ones, wicked and mischievous ones, handsome, blinding ones that crept into his mind at night. But Snape's seriousness had its own appeal; there was nothing careless or reckless in it. Like now, Snape moved purposely, pulling open Lupin's shirt and helping him free his arms from it. Lupin's undershirt followed and he shivered. It was still too cold in the room but he didn't care because Snape was calculatingly brilliant with his teeth and tongue across Lupin's chest. He attacked each nipple in turn, biting lightly and swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh. Snape was crouching awkwardly, his knees bent, his hands struggling with the buttons of Lupin's trousers.
"Bed," said Lupin, his voice husky.
"Yes," said Snape pushing Lupin backwards. Snape steered Lupin towards the bed while Lupin managed somehow to walk backwards and step out of his shoes and then his trousers all at the same time so that when he hit the mattress he was wearing nothing but his socks and shorts. He sat there finally not cold at all; in fact he was suddenly very flushed. Snape knelt down between his legs; he pulled at Lupin's shorts just enough to free Lupin's swaying cock. Snape mouthed Lupin's balls, nipped at them tentatively with his teeth. Lupin groaned and arched forward, leaning backward on his hands. Lupin felt his cock slide against Snape rough cheek. He groaned again more urgently. Then finally Snape took Lupin's cock into his mouth and pulled on it with a smooth deep suck. Snape paused and Lupin thrust upwards, impatiently waiting for Snape to start a rhythm, a pattern. This isn't a pattern, thought Lupin, it's not a habit.
Three weeks earlier, their eyes had locked and Snape had known what he wanted.
"I can't," Lupin had said.
"Don't then." Snape just kept walking and Lupin kept following.
"I can't possibly trust you."
"You don't have to."
"This could be some kind of elaborate revenge." Lupin panted to keep up.
"I never blamed you. You were just a dumb animal."
"I -"
"Don't worry. I don't blame you." Snape repeated. "Anyway, I imagine you can handle yourself."
And Lupin shouldn't have followed him but he did. Snape had brought him back here, to this exact spot, this exact situation, the room drenched in wet afternoon sunlight, Snape's head bobbing up and down between his legs, pulling these loud and desperate sighs from him. Afterwards, Snape had told him to come back. Lupin meant to say no but he said yes and he'd given Snape a date, October 12th.
Snape detached his mouth from Lupin's cock; the soft cold air chilling his wet skin. He felt Snape's tongue dart out and lick at his foreskin, dab into the tiny hole and collect the moisture there. "Severus," he sighed, saying Snape's name for the first time that night. It sent an ache right through him, how familiar this all felt. Snape again swallowed the head, his lips tight; Lupin felt his cock collide with the roof of Snape's mouth. Snape adjusted his angle and then Lupin felt himself again immersed completely. He surrendered to the strong rapid sucking. Snape was too good at this, Lupin felt sure his whole soul could be pulled out this way.
"No, wait." Lupin shook and scooted back on the bed, freeing himself from Snape's mouth.
"What?"
"I- not like that- this time, I mean, please, I want to f-"
"Fine," said Snape crawling up to kneel astride him. Lupin's cock nudged against the bulge in Snape's jeans. Snape still wore his jeans. Snape wore jeans, Lupin suddenly realized, muggle jeans, when did he start doing that? Lupin scrabbled with Snape's zipper but Snape just pushed his hand away and stood to remove the trousers himself. Underneath were long grey underwear and under those long skinny white legs and knobbly knees. And then in the very centre, eye level to Lupin, Snape's cock, garishly red and shuddering, jutting out from a nest of musty wiry hair.
"Here," said Snape, grabbing Lupin's left hand. Snape stuck two of Lupin's fingers in his mouth. Lupin felt Snape's tongue, wet and hot, cling and swirl around his knuckles. "Oh." Lupin sat there, Snape standing in front of him, naked from the waist down, sucking his fingers, his nostrils filled with Snape's tangy ripe smell. Lupin's cock jumped.
"Start with the fingers," said Snape, pulling Lupin's hand from his mouth.
"What?"
Snape crawled back on top of him. "Your fingers." He pulled Lupin's left hand around behind, guiding them to their goal. Nervously, Lupin slid one wet finger into Snape's anus. It was soft and tight and sucked at him as eagerly as Snape's mouth had. Snape was straddling him; they were face to face, Snape's shallow breaths hot on his cheek. Lupin looked straight into Snape's eyes and slid in the second finger. Snape's expression barely changed, he looked back at Lupin and then he closed his eyes.
Lupin wasn't sure what to do, he wiggled his fingers. Snape moaned quietly, making Lupin bolder. He shoved his fingers in deeper and twisted them around more forcefully. Snape started changing position; climbing off Lupin's lap, slowly and carefully. Lupin had to shift so that his fingers would not become detached. Snape turn his back on Lupin and laid down on his stomach, whining and grunting, his arse pushed up like a stretching cat. Lupin, staring wide-eyed, kneeled behind him and slid his fingers in and out. Snape began to lift the corners of the mattress frantically, and then stretched an arm down to feel along the floor.
"What are you looking for?"
"Lu-"
"Just use a spell, for God's sake."
Clearly frustrated with himself, Snape grabbed Lupin's wand from the floor.
He's only done this with Muggles, thought Lupin. He keeps forgetting. "I'm the first wizard... "
"Shhh." interrupted Snape and he muttered the charm every boy knew by their second year at Hogwarts at the latest. Lupin's palms were suddenly warm and slick. Without really thinking, Lupin moved his right hand down to grip his own cock. He started sliding his fist back and forth, slicking up his pleading erection.
His fingers, which were still inside Snape, now moved easily allowing Lupin more freedom to explore, he pressed in deep until he felt a pulsing heat.
Snape groaned and bucked.
"Oh God," gasped Lupin, breathless from lust. "Oh, Christ. God. Severus? Can I? I mean, may I?"
"Yes, get on with it." Snape exhaled as Lupin pulled out his fingers.
Lupin's hands were shaking; he steadied them by gripping Snape's arse on either side. He paused to steady his breathing and pressed his cock against the tensed ring of muscle. There was no resistance, it was tight and a little scratchy and such a sudden, overwhelming pleasure that he sort of doubled over from the onslaught of sensation. Snape was silent and didn't move at all. Lupin recovered himself and tentatively pulled out a bit and then plunged in again, hard. Snape grunted.
"Severus, is this alright?"
Snape didn't answer but shoved upwards.
"Oh." Lupin pulled out again and pressed back in. He gave up on thought and plunged forward, doing whatever felt natural. He found a rhythm soon enough, it felt reckless and familiar. His hands were still slippery and he had to squeeze Snape's hips tightly to keep his grip. Snape was quiet and deliberate in his every movement.
Lupin watched Snape's back, every rib visible, rising and falling with Snape's steady breathing. He's so calm, thought Lupin, who felt, in contrast, like a child on his first visit to Honeyduke's.
He shoved in harder and watched Snape's body respond to the force. Lupin couldn't help wondering who'd been in that spot before him. What they'd been like, the Muggles. The first was probably older, camp as Christmas, but useful for a first time. After that Snape would have had younger, he would have wanted younger. Blonds probably, pretty as he could get them, with snotty expressions and neat, pressed clothes. Or maybe Snape liked black-haired boys like James, or dark boys with blinding white smiles and tan skin, Quidditch physiques and long hair. Lupin would go after dark boys if he had the courage to go after anyone other than Snape. For now Snape was safe and familiar, a strange thing to think about a Death Eater in the middle of a war.
He pulled and pushed and Snape pushed back driving Lupin mad. He started shoving harder, pressing both his hands against the small of Snape's back. He tried to make his thrusts more unpredictable, an irresistible sadism rising up, thrilling at the sight of Snape struggling to keep his balance, driving Lupin forward harder and harder. It was beautiful, thought Lupin, Snape gripping the mattress, swaying, the muscles of his legs flexing. The room was filled with an obscene slapping sound. It built and built, a rhythm outside and in. A pull and push that seemed detached from any particulars, a sort of delirium that caught Lupin up, lifted him out of that dirty tiny flat.
His own climax caught him by surprise, sending him crashing, bringing every seedy detail back into sharp focus. "Severus." He sighed and fell flat against Snape's back, both their bodies wet and slippery with sweat. Snape struggled to free himself from under Lupin, and after a bit, Lupin rolled onto his side to let Snape free. Snape flipped onto his back and Lupin saw that Snape was still hard. Lupin felt suddenly very stupid, he reached out with both his hands, still slick from the spell.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I should have-" Lupin said, fumbling with Snape's rigid prick.
"Quiet," said Snape and he brought his own hand forward to cover one of Lupin's. He squeezed his fist tight and guided Lupin's motions. Lupin, free from having to think, looked at Snape's face. Snape's eyes were open. Snape bit his bottom lip and stared intently at Lupin's hands. Snape was slow and methodical and when he came and his eyes rolled up into his head. Lupin laughed at the face Snape made. Snape's eyes snapped open. He glared at Lupin. "This is my place. I don't need to be laughed at..."
He fell silent. Snape's come had spilled all over Lupin and without really thinking Lupin had started licking it off the back of one of his hands. It didn't taste like anything but Snape's expression did taste like something; Snape's eyes were wide and his lust palpable. Lupin couldn't help laughing again and Snape just rolled his eyes, this time in irritation.
Lupin lay flat, shoulder to shoulder with Snape. There were no sheets on the bed and the mattress felt gritty against his back. There was a knitted green and grey blanket, kicked into a pile at the foot of the bed.
"Did you knit this yourself, Severus?" Lupin teased, pulling it up over both of them.
"My mother," said Snape quietly.
"Oh, right," said Lupin, feeling somewhat chastised. "She must have been proud when you were sorted into Slytherin?"
"Relieved. She was relieved. And your parents?"
"Relieved."
"You're not sleeping here," said Snape.
"I'm not," said Lupin, dozing off a little. He was so tired, he was always tired. He stayed that way, quiet, thrilled, a little, at the strong smell of sex mixing with the smell of damp and smoke until he felt the bed shift as Snape climbed over him and off causing the springs to squeak loudly.
Lupin watched Snape pull on his long grey underwear, his softened prick bouncing once or twice before disappearing from view.
"Where are you going?"
"Down the hall." said Snape. He said it like it was the most distasteful thing ever and Lupin imagined that it was. He would wait.
"What would You-Know-Who say if he found out you were sharing a bathroom with Muggles."
"Shut up and don't fall asleep," shouted Snape as the door swung shut behind him.
But Lupin did sleep. He dreamt of Black. Smiling and not smiling. Slipping his fingers into Lupin's hair and not. It never happened. None of those things ever happened. Sirius hardly smiled, lately, he never put his hands in Remus' hair or on his neck. Remus could imagine him skin close, though, breath on his cheek but if that happened, Sirius would just say "Back up, Moony, give a man room to breathe." Remus thought his neck felt kiss-stained though.
"You're going now?" This really happened, this conversation.
"Yes." It seemed stupid that it should repeat itself in his sleep when it had been repeating itself in his mind all day.
"Where?" Sirius' eyes were narrow. His dark hair obscured his face. He never looked at Remus anymore.
"You know where."
"The full moon's not until tomorrow."
"It's best not to take chances."
"Where will you stay? Three Broomsticks?"
"No, the shack."
"That's no place to sleep."
"I don't mind."
"Will you see Dumbledore tonight?"
"No, why? Probably tomorrow."
"Why not tonight," Black said. What he didn't say was "I know it's you."
"No!" Lupin shouted, waking from his sleep. The door slammed shut.
"No, what?" said Snape.
Snape crept back towards the bed. He walked daintily across the cold floor, hopping from one foot to the other to avoid the chill, his arms wrapped around his chest.
"Damn, it's fucking cold for October."
Lupin laughed to hear Snape swear, the dream retreating from his memory. The way Snape looked, in his long johns and stocking feet, almost endearing, not attractive in the least, not sexy, just not entirely creepy and repulsive. He looked safe, even, though the black mark was clearly visible on the sallow skin of Snape's forearm.
"Severus, love," Lupin said, his voice ironic, "you look..."
Snape stopped. "Whatever you're about to say, don't say it."
"Very well. It's just you look like a pretty pathetic Death Eater."
"I'm a formidable Death Eater!" boomed Snape.
He grabbed his wand from the countertop and lunged forward. He was astride Lupin in a second, his wand at Lupin's throat. Lupin just smiled because Snape's eyes glittered, they were full of something like happiness.
"Say that again, I'll curse you so badly that turning into a werewolf every month will be an improvement." The corner of Snape's mouth curled slightly.
"Try it, I dare you," said Lupin.
"I choose not to," said Snape rolling off Lupin and tossing his wand to the floor. He flipped onto his stomach and reached for his jeans.
"Cigarette?"
"What?"
"Want one?" said Snape fishing a crumpled packet from one of the pockets and tossing the jeans back under the bed.
"No, I gave it up." Lupin stared at the ceiling. Right above him there was a cluster of rusty red water stains.
"When did you give it up?" asked Snape, sticking a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it with a match.
"It's the war; I can't afford any - um -bad habits." Lupin was amazed at how relaxed Snape seemed, the muscles of Snape's arm felt soft pressed against Lupin's shoulder. Lupin turned on his side again so he could watch Snape smoke.
"Too many bad habits." Snape held the cigarette between two yellow fingers. "I mean, I'm sure you can afford one or two." He inhaled deeply and then let the smoke curl out of his mouth to fade into the chilled air. Clumps of black hair hung in Snape's face; it was limp and greasier than ever. He smelled like the dungeons of Hogwarts where Lupin had taken his potion lessons. All Snape's fingers were calloused and stained.
"They have you making potions."
"Don't ask me what they have me doing." Snape's body tensed again. Lupin felt a little ashamed. They had an unspoken agreement, they didn't discuss these things. But, Lupin thought, how could they have any kind of agreement when this wasn't a habit, when this wasn't a regular thing?
"Sorry, I know, it's just..."
"I-"
"You were always good at potions," Lupin asserted. Following with his eyes the path the cigarette smoke travelled around the room.
"How do you know what I was good at?" said Snape testily. He stared straight ahead.
"I remember," said Lupin and he did remember suddenly, a picture flashed in his head- Snape in the library, a studious, strange boy who followed him everywhere. He'd kissed him then, when they were both alone in library. He did it because he felt sorry for Snape and because he wanted to try it, to see what it was like. "Sorry, sorry," he'd said. Snape's lips had been dry as parchment; everything had smelled of leather and dust.
"I was good at all my lessons," said Snape quietly.
"It's just- There's a rumour that You-Know-Who is after James. And Lily, too." Lupin said, watching Snape's expression darken. "And their -"
"I don't know anything about that." Snape replied firmly, his grip tightened on his cigarette.
"You know you owe James; if you know anything... you have an obligation."
Snape's lips curled into a snarl. "I know my obligation," he barked. "I don't need to be reminded by you of what I owe James Potter." He said the name as though it tasted bitter on his tongue.
"I can't ..."
"The Dark Lord knows I owe Potter a debt; he's not stupid." Snape stubbed out his cigarette on the floor. "He tells me nothing that relates to him or his mud- his family." Snape turned his back on Lupin. They both laid there in silence.
Finally, Lupin blurted out, "There's a traitor. There's supposedly - someone in the Order."
"Oh. I didn't know that." Snape's voice brightened somewhat. "The Dark Lord's keeping that information close."
"You didn't know-" said Lupin incredulously.
"Do you think it's Black?"
"It's not Sirius."
"Really, are you sure? Because -"
"It's not Sirius."
"Oh." Snape paused. "Oh! But Black thinks it's you."
"He never said that."
"But he thinks it."
"He never-"
"Ha! It eats you up," Snape snarled triumphantly. "All his bonhomie and 'Remus, old man' and you're still a dark creature to him."
"I'm not-"
"But you are. You are in more ways than one."
"I'm- Be quiet." Lupin felt a heat rising up his neck.
"He won't give you what you want, you know," said Snape calmly. "Black, he'll never- trust you."
"And you will?"
"I don't trust you," Snape snapped.
"But you'll-"
"And it is you," Snape interrupted. "Isn't it?"
"What?"
"You're the traitor."
"I'm not."
"No? Maybe this is it." Snape lifted his arms to take in the whole flat. "This. Sneaking off to meet a Death Eater in London- it's a betrayal isn't it, sleeping with the enemy?"
"Don't. I wish I hadn't asked."
"You shouldn't ask me these things." Snape said earnestly. "I don't ask you - I could find things out, you know. I could take what I wanted."
"No you couldn't," sighed Lupin "but you could try and you don't, I know, I appreciate that. It's just- this isn't a game anymore. It gets worse every day. You know what's happening. Muggles are dying and- torture. And Regulus- he was one of your own. It's not a game-"
Snape turned to look straight at him; the expression on his face was indescribably miserable. Lupin was stunned. "I never thought it was a game," said Snape, his voice unsteady.
"You want out."
Snape recovered, his face slipped back into it's normal sneer.
"Don't be stupid."
"You want-"
"When are you leaving?"
"Now, I suppose."
Lupin dressed as quickly as he could. The fire had died and it was freezing. Snape stayed in the bed under the blanket, he was silent. Lupin grabbed his jacket off the chair and slipped it on; he turned to look at Snape and was surprised to find him suddenly standing right in front of him.
"I-"
Snape touched his hair awkwardly and then kissed him. Lupin rested his hands on Snape's bare arms and kissed him back. Snape's mouth felt rough against Lupin's chapped lips, his skin felt cold and clammy. This wasn't what he wanted, thought Lupin. Not really. He thought it was but it wasn't. He wanted something more, someone else, obviously, or maybe not someone else- just something more.
Snape broke the kiss first but stayed pressed close to Lupin. He kept touching Lupin's hair with these strange possessive gestures. "You're going to Hogwarts?" Snape said, he sounded preoccupied, almost dreamy.
"Hogsmeade," Lupin answered. "The Shrieking Shack."
"They need a new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher."
"Hogwarts." Lupin chewed on the fingernail of his thumb absent-mindedly.
"I heard... "
"Yes, and a new potions master." Lupin felt crowded with Snape so close. He backed up. "The war's devastated the staff."
"Come next month," said Snape stepping forward, trapping Lupin between himself and the kitchen table.
"I don't think-" Lupin gnawed nervously at a split cuticle.
"Wolfsbane potion."
"What?" Lupin stared and dropped his hand from his mouth.
"You know what it is." Snape returned Lupin's gaze gravely.
"Of course I know what it is," Lupin said. "But it's just a theory, it- it doesn't exist."
"I can make it for you," said Snape, almost casually.
"No one can make it." Lupin's voice was suspicious.
"I can make it, one month." Snape turned abruptly and went back to the bed. He sat down and started pulling on his jeans.
"You can't- why?" Lupin didn't move. He just stood there, still leaning against the rickety table. "Why?" he repeated.
"I want- I just want to." Snape looked suddenly embarrassed.
"You figured it out," said Lupin, the significance of Snape's words sinking in.
"Almost, I need a month. I wanted to have it this time but it's diff-"
"For me. You figured it out for me." Lupin smiled broadly.
"I- Not for y-" Snape looked almost flustered. "I need the Order in my debt, in case the war ends badly."
"Ends well, you mean."
"One month, you know what I mean, before the moon is-"
"I know what you mean. Wolfsbane, really, you figured it out for me?" Lupin felt a jump in his stomach. "You really should apply at Hogwarts; you'd be a brilliant potions master."
"Defence against the Dark Arts." Snape was standing again, digging into his pocket for another cigarette.
"What?"
"That." said Snape, fumbling with a match. "I'd be an extraordinary-"
"Still, Potions would probably be a better fit."
"I'm not teaching at Hogwarts," said Snape, inhaling. "I'll go to Azkaban first."
"Yes, I suppose it's best, for the sake of all wizard children everywhere that you not teach at Hogwarts."
"One month." Snape looked straight at Lupin and then at the door.
"All right." A lot could happen in that time, thought Lupin, his hand on the doorknob. The Potters would be in hiding by then, all their secrets tied up in a Fidelius just as all Remus' secrets were tied up here, in this dingy little room.
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Snape and Lupin meet secretly during the war.
Thanks to siyamau and ion_bond for the fatabulous betas, the comments, discussion, and encouragement. And siyamau also for the brit-picking.
October 12, 1981
A cold rain was not so much falling as swimming in the air. It smudged the light around the street lamps like a badly executed lumos. Remus Lupin's threadbare tweed jacket offered no protection against the freezing wind. He was walking down a dark street, his collar turned up and his hands buried deep in his pockets. His ears burned from the cold but his nose had gone numb. He could almost imagine an icicle hanging from the scarred tip. He wasn't quite sure why he was here, after dark, in completely unfamiliar territory. Actually, he did know why, he just wasn't sure it was the smartest thing he'd ever done.
Not smart and not the first time.
He'd been on personal business in Knockturn Alley, three weeks earlier. He'd heard a rumour, a potion treatment for werewolves. These things were wishful thinking half the time, the other half, swindles. Either way, he had a vested interest.
Rain that day too, he remembered raindrops clinging to his robe as he entered the antique bookshop stacked high with parchments and cracking leather bound volumes.
"Severus." He stopped short; splashing raindrops all over Severus Snape who stood there near the door craning over a parchment, researching -something, Lupin had forgotten to ask.
"Lupin." Snape slammed the parchment under a nearby book. His eyes darted quickly around the shop.
"I haven't seen you since school."
Snape stood frozen. He stared straight at Lupin.
"How are you?" Lupin said cheerfully, he felt inexplicably pleased to see Snape.
"Why?"
"I'm just making conversation."
"Do you live here?" asked Snape, suddenly.
"Knockturn Alley?" Lupin was confused.
"No, London. Do you live in London?"
"No, why?" Lupin asked suspiciously.
"You wanted conversation," Snape said, "Black's here."
"Where?" Lupin twisted to look around.
"Black's here in London," Snape said sharply. "He lives here."
"I know," said Lupin, returning his gaze to Snape. Snape kept staring at Lupin and there was something in his look, Lupin couldn't say what it was but it was so familiar.
"I just heard. You don't live with him."
"No."
"Oh. Where?"
"Why d'ya ask?"
"I want to know so that I can find you and kill you in your sleep," said Snape dryly.
"All right," Lupin turned to leave.
"We both know what the other is." Snape had reached out to touch Lupin's shoulder, just lightly, with the tips of his fingers.
"You mean-"
"It's not much of a secret, you know, your secret order of the pheasant."
"Phoenix."
"So you don't live with Black," said Snape patronizingly, "you live where?"
"God, it's not a secret. Chudley, with my parents."
"No wife and kiddies, then."
"No."
"Confirmed bachelor?"
"Where are you living these days, Severus?"
"Here."
"Knockturn All-"
"No. London." And Lupin had realized what he'd seen in Snape's gaze, it was what was in his.
"Alone?"
And Snape had just looked at him and nodded.
That was three weeks ago, now he was wandering around in the middle of the night, wet, freezing, lost possibly. He stopped and scanned the line of blackened buildings stretching out in front of him and then turned around to look at an identical row trailing behind. Muggle London made him feel so disoriented and he'd only been to this address one time before. He kept reminding himself of that; only once before. It wasn't a habit, twice did not make it a habit. He looked at the building directly across the street, squat and unassuming. He was pretty sure that this was the place; he sensed a faint trace of magic emanating from it, but that could have been his imagination.
It had been stupid to follow Snape that day and stupider to return. But Lupin had this- this something he wanted; it burned and pounded in his throat. Besides these days Lupin was convinced it was easier to trust an enemy than a stranger, that's how turned around everything was. And he could never think of Severus as dangerous, just the creepy boy who followed him everywhere at school. Snape, rumoured to know more curses than Grindelwald - harmless. Stupid of me, thought Lupin, or arrogant more like.
As he trudged up the stairs, Lupin practiced his Occlumens. He knew Snape was good at these things but he thought he might be better. It was the sort of thing you had to be good at when you had a lot of secrets and Lupin had been carrying around secrets as long as he could remember. Strangely, accidentally, Snape knew so many of Lupin's secrets. He knew about the shack and other things. Lupin remembered Snape in Dumbledore's office glaring at the Headmaster and staring darkly at Lupin but Dumbledore told Snape to promise and he had, he'd promised not to tell. It was funny how many of Lupin's secrets were tied up in Snape.
Within a few minutes, he'd hiked up four stories and stood, out of breath, in front of a faded green door with a tarnished brass knocker. It was only slightly warmer in the hallway than it had been outside. Lupin was soaked and shivering, his wet trouser legs plastered to his skin. He was about to knock when the door swung open. Wards, he thought, looking around for any tell-tale shimmers.
"Your ears are red," said Snape inexplicably.
"What?" said Lupin. Severus Snape was standing in the doorway dressed all in black and doing his best to loom.
"Your -" Snape reached out and touched the edge of Lupin's ear, sliding a finger gently down the edge.
Lupin unconsciously leaned into Snape's hand. Snape stiffened and looked furtively up and down the hallway. He stepped back and made room for Remus.
"Come in."
"Oh, thank-you. I -"
Once the door was closed, Snape stooped down to kiss him. Snape was taller than Lupin but he slouched with his neck craned forward like a vulture. It was Lupin's turn to pull back; he leaned away from Snape until he lost his balance and bumped his head lightly against the door. Snape snapped upright and looked angrily at Lupin.
"It's -" said Lupin, straightening.
"What?" Snape interrupted.
He stepped backward and gave Lupin a full view of the one-room flat. It looked exactly as Lupin remembered it. It had grey walls and a generally grey feel. A steady, swaying light from car headlamps streaked in through a tiny window at regular intervals, accompanied by the constant noise of rain and the occasional sad moan of car horns. The flat was cheap, Lupin knew, no hot water, no bathroom, no cooker, no refrigerator, nothing but a sink. There was a Formica kitchen table, surrounded by mismatched kitchen chairs. There wasn't much other furniture except for a bed pressed against the grey wall opposite the door. The room smelled of mildew.
"It's just that I'm cold. I'm soaking wet." Lupin's teeth chattered.
Snape looked put out.
"Here." he pointed to a tiny grate in the far corner of the room and then went to the sink to fill an electric kettle with water. Lupin used his wand to start a fire and wondered why Snape would use some strange muggle device to make tea instead of just using a spell. He's had Muggles here, thought Lupin, as he pulled off his wet jacket. He's made them tea.
Lupin hung his jacket on the back of a chair. He mumbled a charm to produce a forceful stream of hot air from the tip of his wand. He used it dry his trouser legs as much as possible. Satisfied, he turned it on himself drying the damp strands of hair that hung in his face.
Snape turned and looked at him, "What's that?"
"What?" Lupin could barely hear over the whooshing sound his wand was making. His hair floated around his head like a lion's mane.
"On your face. What's on your face?" Snape shouted.
"You mean -"
"You're growing a moustache?"
"Grown one. I've grown one. I mean, I don't think it will come in any better than this."
"It's disgusting."
"You're hardly one to talk. Really, Snape when did you become particular about appearances?" The charm ended abruptly and Lupin's face felt even colder than before in the sudden absence of warmth.
"It doesn't hide the scars at all."
"I -"
"Tea."
"What?"
"Here's your tea." Snape thrust a chipped mug towards Lupin. Lupin grabbed it and peered into it apprehensively. In the bottom lay a round, flat teabag. The cup didn't look particularly clean but he had only a moment to pray that it hadn't been used for any potion work before Snape was filling it with hot water from the muggle electric contraption.
"Chair", said Snape pointing at a kitchen chair parked near the tiny fireplace. Lupin sat down and stared at the tea seeping in his mug. There was a tiny side table next to the chair and he set his cup there.
"Do you have any sugar?"
Snape was leaning against the grimy countertop that held the sink. He had no tea of his own. Lupin was a bit amused to see that he'd managed to make Snape look even more annoyed. Snape sighed and turned to open several cupboards. As far as Lupin could tell they were mostly empty. What did Snape eat, he wondered, by the looks of him not much. He doesn't live here, thought Lupin. He just uses this place for-
"That's either sugar or cream of tartar, possibly rat poison. I'd check it first if I were you." said Snape, tossing Lupin an old jam jar filled with a white powdery substance.
Lupin caught it awkwardly, nearly falling out of his chair.
"And to think you never played Quidditch," said Snape, hurtling a spoon towards Lupin's head.
Lupin blocked the spoon which went clattering to the floor.
"Shut up and get me something to eat." said Lupin. He retrieved the spoon and took a tentative taste of the white crystals. "Toast would be nice."
Satisfied that it was sugar and not arsenic or something worse, Lupin began spooning scoop after scoop into his cup.
Snape scoffed, "Toast. You're lucky I had sugar. Here." he said tossing Lupin an open box of biscuits.
"Chocolate. Lovely. Thanks." said Lupin. They were stale but he devoured them eagerly, washing them down with hot, sweet tea. He was starting to feel human again. He settled into that feeling, savoured it. The full moon would be up the next night.
The fire in the grate sputtered. "Is that fireplace-"
"That?"
"Yes. Is it on the floo network?" said Lupin, swallowing the last of his tea.
"Why?" said Snape suspiciously.
"Why? You could have saved me a really cold walk. I mean-"
"It isn't. Too small, obviously."
"I suppose," said Lupin. He imagined it was too small for travel, not messages though. It was probably on a floo network, not the official one, but a network of some kind.
"Done?" said Snape.
"Yes. I-"
Lupin kept staring at the fire. He couldn't stop picturing Avery's head popping up in a fury of green flames.
"No one will- It's -"
Snape seemed to have read his thoughts so clearly that Lupin slammed up an Occlumens without even thinking.
"I wasn't." said Snape, exasperated. "It's just your face- Here."
He moved swiftly and deliberately forward. He leaned over and gripped Lupin's chin with his strong fingers, pulling Lupin's face upwards to kiss him very hard. It was all noses colliding and sour tongue but Lupin returned the kiss eagerly. This is what he came for after all; it was certainly not for the tea. It's what he'd come for, he corrected himself. This was only the second time, twice wasn't a habit, it wasn't a pattern of behaviour.
Still he ached all the time for this; the rough feel of stubble against his cheeks, wiry flesh beneath his fingers, and it was a kind of happiness to have it finally. It was a kind of relief that made Lupin rise up into Snape's kiss, to slip his arms around Snape's waist and pull him as tight as he could against himself. There was unpleasantness, Snape smelled of grease and sulphur, but really nothing was unpleasant. It was what he wanted. And even if it wasn't, it would do for now. Snape's lips were warm but his fingers cold as they found their way under Lupin's shirt. Snape squeezed a nipple hard and Lupin cried out, breaking the kiss for the first time.
Lupin looked up at Snape. That close, his nose was enormous, his mouth was bright red from kissing and his lips were very wet and shiny. He looked younger, like he'd looked at Hogwarts, the way Lupin remembered him- strange and vulnerable. Lupin smiled widely and Snape turned his attention to unbuttoning Lupin's shirt.
Snape never smiled. At least Lupin had never seen him smile and couldn't imagine that he ever did. It was strange to Lupin, all those years at Hogwarts he'd been surrounded by easy smiles, happy ones, wicked and mischievous ones, handsome, blinding ones that crept into his mind at night. But Snape's seriousness had its own appeal; there was nothing careless or reckless in it. Like now, Snape moved purposely, pulling open Lupin's shirt and helping him free his arms from it. Lupin's undershirt followed and he shivered. It was still too cold in the room but he didn't care because Snape was calculatingly brilliant with his teeth and tongue across Lupin's chest. He attacked each nipple in turn, biting lightly and swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh. Snape was crouching awkwardly, his knees bent, his hands struggling with the buttons of Lupin's trousers.
"Bed," said Lupin, his voice husky.
"Yes," said Snape pushing Lupin backwards. Snape steered Lupin towards the bed while Lupin managed somehow to walk backwards and step out of his shoes and then his trousers all at the same time so that when he hit the mattress he was wearing nothing but his socks and shorts. He sat there finally not cold at all; in fact he was suddenly very flushed. Snape knelt down between his legs; he pulled at Lupin's shorts just enough to free Lupin's swaying cock. Snape mouthed Lupin's balls, nipped at them tentatively with his teeth. Lupin groaned and arched forward, leaning backward on his hands. Lupin felt his cock slide against Snape rough cheek. He groaned again more urgently. Then finally Snape took Lupin's cock into his mouth and pulled on it with a smooth deep suck. Snape paused and Lupin thrust upwards, impatiently waiting for Snape to start a rhythm, a pattern. This isn't a pattern, thought Lupin, it's not a habit.
Three weeks earlier, their eyes had locked and Snape had known what he wanted.
"I can't," Lupin had said.
"Don't then." Snape just kept walking and Lupin kept following.
"I can't possibly trust you."
"You don't have to."
"This could be some kind of elaborate revenge." Lupin panted to keep up.
"I never blamed you. You were just a dumb animal."
"I -"
"Don't worry. I don't blame you." Snape repeated. "Anyway, I imagine you can handle yourself."
And Lupin shouldn't have followed him but he did. Snape had brought him back here, to this exact spot, this exact situation, the room drenched in wet afternoon sunlight, Snape's head bobbing up and down between his legs, pulling these loud and desperate sighs from him. Afterwards, Snape had told him to come back. Lupin meant to say no but he said yes and he'd given Snape a date, October 12th.
Snape detached his mouth from Lupin's cock; the soft cold air chilling his wet skin. He felt Snape's tongue dart out and lick at his foreskin, dab into the tiny hole and collect the moisture there. "Severus," he sighed, saying Snape's name for the first time that night. It sent an ache right through him, how familiar this all felt. Snape again swallowed the head, his lips tight; Lupin felt his cock collide with the roof of Snape's mouth. Snape adjusted his angle and then Lupin felt himself again immersed completely. He surrendered to the strong rapid sucking. Snape was too good at this, Lupin felt sure his whole soul could be pulled out this way.
"No, wait." Lupin shook and scooted back on the bed, freeing himself from Snape's mouth.
"What?"
"I- not like that- this time, I mean, please, I want to f-"
"Fine," said Snape crawling up to kneel astride him. Lupin's cock nudged against the bulge in Snape's jeans. Snape still wore his jeans. Snape wore jeans, Lupin suddenly realized, muggle jeans, when did he start doing that? Lupin scrabbled with Snape's zipper but Snape just pushed his hand away and stood to remove the trousers himself. Underneath were long grey underwear and under those long skinny white legs and knobbly knees. And then in the very centre, eye level to Lupin, Snape's cock, garishly red and shuddering, jutting out from a nest of musty wiry hair.
"Here," said Snape, grabbing Lupin's left hand. Snape stuck two of Lupin's fingers in his mouth. Lupin felt Snape's tongue, wet and hot, cling and swirl around his knuckles. "Oh." Lupin sat there, Snape standing in front of him, naked from the waist down, sucking his fingers, his nostrils filled with Snape's tangy ripe smell. Lupin's cock jumped.
"Start with the fingers," said Snape, pulling Lupin's hand from his mouth.
"What?"
Snape crawled back on top of him. "Your fingers." He pulled Lupin's left hand around behind, guiding them to their goal. Nervously, Lupin slid one wet finger into Snape's anus. It was soft and tight and sucked at him as eagerly as Snape's mouth had. Snape was straddling him; they were face to face, Snape's shallow breaths hot on his cheek. Lupin looked straight into Snape's eyes and slid in the second finger. Snape's expression barely changed, he looked back at Lupin and then he closed his eyes.
Lupin wasn't sure what to do, he wiggled his fingers. Snape moaned quietly, making Lupin bolder. He shoved his fingers in deeper and twisted them around more forcefully. Snape started changing position; climbing off Lupin's lap, slowly and carefully. Lupin had to shift so that his fingers would not become detached. Snape turn his back on Lupin and laid down on his stomach, whining and grunting, his arse pushed up like a stretching cat. Lupin, staring wide-eyed, kneeled behind him and slid his fingers in and out. Snape began to lift the corners of the mattress frantically, and then stretched an arm down to feel along the floor.
"What are you looking for?"
"Lu-"
"Just use a spell, for God's sake."
Clearly frustrated with himself, Snape grabbed Lupin's wand from the floor.
He's only done this with Muggles, thought Lupin. He keeps forgetting. "I'm the first wizard... "
"Shhh." interrupted Snape and he muttered the charm every boy knew by their second year at Hogwarts at the latest. Lupin's palms were suddenly warm and slick. Without really thinking, Lupin moved his right hand down to grip his own cock. He started sliding his fist back and forth, slicking up his pleading erection.
His fingers, which were still inside Snape, now moved easily allowing Lupin more freedom to explore, he pressed in deep until he felt a pulsing heat.
Snape groaned and bucked.
"Oh God," gasped Lupin, breathless from lust. "Oh, Christ. God. Severus? Can I? I mean, may I?"
"Yes, get on with it." Snape exhaled as Lupin pulled out his fingers.
Lupin's hands were shaking; he steadied them by gripping Snape's arse on either side. He paused to steady his breathing and pressed his cock against the tensed ring of muscle. There was no resistance, it was tight and a little scratchy and such a sudden, overwhelming pleasure that he sort of doubled over from the onslaught of sensation. Snape was silent and didn't move at all. Lupin recovered himself and tentatively pulled out a bit and then plunged in again, hard. Snape grunted.
"Severus, is this alright?"
Snape didn't answer but shoved upwards.
"Oh." Lupin pulled out again and pressed back in. He gave up on thought and plunged forward, doing whatever felt natural. He found a rhythm soon enough, it felt reckless and familiar. His hands were still slippery and he had to squeeze Snape's hips tightly to keep his grip. Snape was quiet and deliberate in his every movement.
Lupin watched Snape's back, every rib visible, rising and falling with Snape's steady breathing. He's so calm, thought Lupin, who felt, in contrast, like a child on his first visit to Honeyduke's.
He shoved in harder and watched Snape's body respond to the force. Lupin couldn't help wondering who'd been in that spot before him. What they'd been like, the Muggles. The first was probably older, camp as Christmas, but useful for a first time. After that Snape would have had younger, he would have wanted younger. Blonds probably, pretty as he could get them, with snotty expressions and neat, pressed clothes. Or maybe Snape liked black-haired boys like James, or dark boys with blinding white smiles and tan skin, Quidditch physiques and long hair. Lupin would go after dark boys if he had the courage to go after anyone other than Snape. For now Snape was safe and familiar, a strange thing to think about a Death Eater in the middle of a war.
He pulled and pushed and Snape pushed back driving Lupin mad. He started shoving harder, pressing both his hands against the small of Snape's back. He tried to make his thrusts more unpredictable, an irresistible sadism rising up, thrilling at the sight of Snape struggling to keep his balance, driving Lupin forward harder and harder. It was beautiful, thought Lupin, Snape gripping the mattress, swaying, the muscles of his legs flexing. The room was filled with an obscene slapping sound. It built and built, a rhythm outside and in. A pull and push that seemed detached from any particulars, a sort of delirium that caught Lupin up, lifted him out of that dirty tiny flat.
His own climax caught him by surprise, sending him crashing, bringing every seedy detail back into sharp focus. "Severus." He sighed and fell flat against Snape's back, both their bodies wet and slippery with sweat. Snape struggled to free himself from under Lupin, and after a bit, Lupin rolled onto his side to let Snape free. Snape flipped onto his back and Lupin saw that Snape was still hard. Lupin felt suddenly very stupid, he reached out with both his hands, still slick from the spell.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I should have-" Lupin said, fumbling with Snape's rigid prick.
"Quiet," said Snape and he brought his own hand forward to cover one of Lupin's. He squeezed his fist tight and guided Lupin's motions. Lupin, free from having to think, looked at Snape's face. Snape's eyes were open. Snape bit his bottom lip and stared intently at Lupin's hands. Snape was slow and methodical and when he came and his eyes rolled up into his head. Lupin laughed at the face Snape made. Snape's eyes snapped open. He glared at Lupin. "This is my place. I don't need to be laughed at..."
He fell silent. Snape's come had spilled all over Lupin and without really thinking Lupin had started licking it off the back of one of his hands. It didn't taste like anything but Snape's expression did taste like something; Snape's eyes were wide and his lust palpable. Lupin couldn't help laughing again and Snape just rolled his eyes, this time in irritation.
Lupin lay flat, shoulder to shoulder with Snape. There were no sheets on the bed and the mattress felt gritty against his back. There was a knitted green and grey blanket, kicked into a pile at the foot of the bed.
"Did you knit this yourself, Severus?" Lupin teased, pulling it up over both of them.
"My mother," said Snape quietly.
"Oh, right," said Lupin, feeling somewhat chastised. "She must have been proud when you were sorted into Slytherin?"
"Relieved. She was relieved. And your parents?"
"Relieved."
"You're not sleeping here," said Snape.
"I'm not," said Lupin, dozing off a little. He was so tired, he was always tired. He stayed that way, quiet, thrilled, a little, at the strong smell of sex mixing with the smell of damp and smoke until he felt the bed shift as Snape climbed over him and off causing the springs to squeak loudly.
Lupin watched Snape pull on his long grey underwear, his softened prick bouncing once or twice before disappearing from view.
"Where are you going?"
"Down the hall." said Snape. He said it like it was the most distasteful thing ever and Lupin imagined that it was. He would wait.
"What would You-Know-Who say if he found out you were sharing a bathroom with Muggles."
"Shut up and don't fall asleep," shouted Snape as the door swung shut behind him.
But Lupin did sleep. He dreamt of Black. Smiling and not smiling. Slipping his fingers into Lupin's hair and not. It never happened. None of those things ever happened. Sirius hardly smiled, lately, he never put his hands in Remus' hair or on his neck. Remus could imagine him skin close, though, breath on his cheek but if that happened, Sirius would just say "Back up, Moony, give a man room to breathe." Remus thought his neck felt kiss-stained though.
"You're going now?" This really happened, this conversation.
"Yes." It seemed stupid that it should repeat itself in his sleep when it had been repeating itself in his mind all day.
"Where?" Sirius' eyes were narrow. His dark hair obscured his face. He never looked at Remus anymore.
"You know where."
"The full moon's not until tomorrow."
"It's best not to take chances."
"Where will you stay? Three Broomsticks?"
"No, the shack."
"That's no place to sleep."
"I don't mind."
"Will you see Dumbledore tonight?"
"No, why? Probably tomorrow."
"Why not tonight," Black said. What he didn't say was "I know it's you."
"No!" Lupin shouted, waking from his sleep. The door slammed shut.
"No, what?" said Snape.
Snape crept back towards the bed. He walked daintily across the cold floor, hopping from one foot to the other to avoid the chill, his arms wrapped around his chest.
"Damn, it's fucking cold for October."
Lupin laughed to hear Snape swear, the dream retreating from his memory. The way Snape looked, in his long johns and stocking feet, almost endearing, not attractive in the least, not sexy, just not entirely creepy and repulsive. He looked safe, even, though the black mark was clearly visible on the sallow skin of Snape's forearm.
"Severus, love," Lupin said, his voice ironic, "you look..."
Snape stopped. "Whatever you're about to say, don't say it."
"Very well. It's just you look like a pretty pathetic Death Eater."
"I'm a formidable Death Eater!" boomed Snape.
He grabbed his wand from the countertop and lunged forward. He was astride Lupin in a second, his wand at Lupin's throat. Lupin just smiled because Snape's eyes glittered, they were full of something like happiness.
"Say that again, I'll curse you so badly that turning into a werewolf every month will be an improvement." The corner of Snape's mouth curled slightly.
"Try it, I dare you," said Lupin.
"I choose not to," said Snape rolling off Lupin and tossing his wand to the floor. He flipped onto his stomach and reached for his jeans.
"Cigarette?"
"What?"
"Want one?" said Snape fishing a crumpled packet from one of the pockets and tossing the jeans back under the bed.
"No, I gave it up." Lupin stared at the ceiling. Right above him there was a cluster of rusty red water stains.
"When did you give it up?" asked Snape, sticking a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it with a match.
"It's the war; I can't afford any - um -bad habits." Lupin was amazed at how relaxed Snape seemed, the muscles of Snape's arm felt soft pressed against Lupin's shoulder. Lupin turned on his side again so he could watch Snape smoke.
"Too many bad habits." Snape held the cigarette between two yellow fingers. "I mean, I'm sure you can afford one or two." He inhaled deeply and then let the smoke curl out of his mouth to fade into the chilled air. Clumps of black hair hung in Snape's face; it was limp and greasier than ever. He smelled like the dungeons of Hogwarts where Lupin had taken his potion lessons. All Snape's fingers were calloused and stained.
"They have you making potions."
"Don't ask me what they have me doing." Snape's body tensed again. Lupin felt a little ashamed. They had an unspoken agreement, they didn't discuss these things. But, Lupin thought, how could they have any kind of agreement when this wasn't a habit, when this wasn't a regular thing?
"Sorry, I know, it's just..."
"I-"
"You were always good at potions," Lupin asserted. Following with his eyes the path the cigarette smoke travelled around the room.
"How do you know what I was good at?" said Snape testily. He stared straight ahead.
"I remember," said Lupin and he did remember suddenly, a picture flashed in his head- Snape in the library, a studious, strange boy who followed him everywhere. He'd kissed him then, when they were both alone in library. He did it because he felt sorry for Snape and because he wanted to try it, to see what it was like. "Sorry, sorry," he'd said. Snape's lips had been dry as parchment; everything had smelled of leather and dust.
"I was good at all my lessons," said Snape quietly.
"It's just- There's a rumour that You-Know-Who is after James. And Lily, too." Lupin said, watching Snape's expression darken. "And their -"
"I don't know anything about that." Snape replied firmly, his grip tightened on his cigarette.
"You know you owe James; if you know anything... you have an obligation."
Snape's lips curled into a snarl. "I know my obligation," he barked. "I don't need to be reminded by you of what I owe James Potter." He said the name as though it tasted bitter on his tongue.
"I can't ..."
"The Dark Lord knows I owe Potter a debt; he's not stupid." Snape stubbed out his cigarette on the floor. "He tells me nothing that relates to him or his mud- his family." Snape turned his back on Lupin. They both laid there in silence.
Finally, Lupin blurted out, "There's a traitor. There's supposedly - someone in the Order."
"Oh. I didn't know that." Snape's voice brightened somewhat. "The Dark Lord's keeping that information close."
"You didn't know-" said Lupin incredulously.
"Do you think it's Black?"
"It's not Sirius."
"Really, are you sure? Because -"
"It's not Sirius."
"Oh." Snape paused. "Oh! But Black thinks it's you."
"He never said that."
"But he thinks it."
"He never-"
"Ha! It eats you up," Snape snarled triumphantly. "All his bonhomie and 'Remus, old man' and you're still a dark creature to him."
"I'm not-"
"But you are. You are in more ways than one."
"I'm- Be quiet." Lupin felt a heat rising up his neck.
"He won't give you what you want, you know," said Snape calmly. "Black, he'll never- trust you."
"And you will?"
"I don't trust you," Snape snapped.
"But you'll-"
"And it is you," Snape interrupted. "Isn't it?"
"What?"
"You're the traitor."
"I'm not."
"No? Maybe this is it." Snape lifted his arms to take in the whole flat. "This. Sneaking off to meet a Death Eater in London- it's a betrayal isn't it, sleeping with the enemy?"
"Don't. I wish I hadn't asked."
"You shouldn't ask me these things." Snape said earnestly. "I don't ask you - I could find things out, you know. I could take what I wanted."
"No you couldn't," sighed Lupin "but you could try and you don't, I know, I appreciate that. It's just- this isn't a game anymore. It gets worse every day. You know what's happening. Muggles are dying and- torture. And Regulus- he was one of your own. It's not a game-"
Snape turned to look straight at him; the expression on his face was indescribably miserable. Lupin was stunned. "I never thought it was a game," said Snape, his voice unsteady.
"You want out."
Snape recovered, his face slipped back into it's normal sneer.
"Don't be stupid."
"You want-"
"When are you leaving?"
"Now, I suppose."
Lupin dressed as quickly as he could. The fire had died and it was freezing. Snape stayed in the bed under the blanket, he was silent. Lupin grabbed his jacket off the chair and slipped it on; he turned to look at Snape and was surprised to find him suddenly standing right in front of him.
"I-"
Snape touched his hair awkwardly and then kissed him. Lupin rested his hands on Snape's bare arms and kissed him back. Snape's mouth felt rough against Lupin's chapped lips, his skin felt cold and clammy. This wasn't what he wanted, thought Lupin. Not really. He thought it was but it wasn't. He wanted something more, someone else, obviously, or maybe not someone else- just something more.
Snape broke the kiss first but stayed pressed close to Lupin. He kept touching Lupin's hair with these strange possessive gestures. "You're going to Hogwarts?" Snape said, he sounded preoccupied, almost dreamy.
"Hogsmeade," Lupin answered. "The Shrieking Shack."
"They need a new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher."
"Hogwarts." Lupin chewed on the fingernail of his thumb absent-mindedly.
"I heard... "
"Yes, and a new potions master." Lupin felt crowded with Snape so close. He backed up. "The war's devastated the staff."
"Come next month," said Snape stepping forward, trapping Lupin between himself and the kitchen table.
"I don't think-" Lupin gnawed nervously at a split cuticle.
"Wolfsbane potion."
"What?" Lupin stared and dropped his hand from his mouth.
"You know what it is." Snape returned Lupin's gaze gravely.
"Of course I know what it is," Lupin said. "But it's just a theory, it- it doesn't exist."
"I can make it for you," said Snape, almost casually.
"No one can make it." Lupin's voice was suspicious.
"I can make it, one month." Snape turned abruptly and went back to the bed. He sat down and started pulling on his jeans.
"You can't- why?" Lupin didn't move. He just stood there, still leaning against the rickety table. "Why?" he repeated.
"I want- I just want to." Snape looked suddenly embarrassed.
"You figured it out," said Lupin, the significance of Snape's words sinking in.
"Almost, I need a month. I wanted to have it this time but it's diff-"
"For me. You figured it out for me." Lupin smiled broadly.
"I- Not for y-" Snape looked almost flustered. "I need the Order in my debt, in case the war ends badly."
"Ends well, you mean."
"One month, you know what I mean, before the moon is-"
"I know what you mean. Wolfsbane, really, you figured it out for me?" Lupin felt a jump in his stomach. "You really should apply at Hogwarts; you'd be a brilliant potions master."
"Defence against the Dark Arts." Snape was standing again, digging into his pocket for another cigarette.
"What?"
"That." said Snape, fumbling with a match. "I'd be an extraordinary-"
"Still, Potions would probably be a better fit."
"I'm not teaching at Hogwarts," said Snape, inhaling. "I'll go to Azkaban first."
"Yes, I suppose it's best, for the sake of all wizard children everywhere that you not teach at Hogwarts."
"One month." Snape looked straight at Lupin and then at the door.
"All right." A lot could happen in that time, thought Lupin, his hand on the doorknob. The Potters would be in hiding by then, all their secrets tied up in a Fidelius just as all Remus' secrets were tied up here, in this dingy little room.