Fic: Bonfire Night, Snape/Lupin R/NC-17
Title: Bonfire Night
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Rating: Hard R, possibly NC-17 for slash.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Warnings: Angst.
Summary: Fireworks, rain, and angst.
A/N: This is my second entry for the April Showers Challenge. In the last entry, I made Lupin cheerful and silly, in this one he's king of pain. Something for everyone.
It was raining. Pouring actually, thought Lupin. Like the rhyme, raining and pouring. It hadn't stopped raining since everyone died. Despite the downpour, there were fireworks and signs of celebration in the streets. Bonfires floated like damp fireflies along the grey horizon. It was a holiday -- a newborn holiday. Wizard London had been celebrating Voldemort's downfall rather recklessly for a week and now with the annual Muggle commotion providing a mask for their more ostentatious outpourings of joy, everyone had gone quite mad.
In Knockturn Alley, in one of its convenient nooks, its dark empty places -- a narrow dead end street behind a pub, a place to be forgotten, a place where things end, Lupin had his back to the wall and Snape was on his knees. Everyone was celebrating and this was Lupin's way.
Snape had found him on the street. Lupin had been leaning with his face pressed against a dust-coated shop window, trying to discern the obscure wares displayed inside. He was looking for something he needed, a kind of thing they didn't sell in Diagon.
"Come on," said Snape, seizing his hand and dragging him to the nearest pub.
"Where?" said Lupin. "Why are we going in here?"
"To drink," said Snape. "That's what you do, Lupin, when everything goes to hell -- you drink."
They sat there, silently, for nearly an hour, washing down whisky shots with pints of warm bitter ale. Snape scanned the room with a look on his face that managed to be somehow simultaneously bored and wary. The Knockturn crowd in the pub was more sullen than the mobs outside but even in there a few toasts went up and half-hearted cries of "victory" and "freedom at last". Lupin scraped at the varnish on the table with his finger, peeling away tiny bits of it to reveal the bare wood. Then he scratched into that until he felt the reassuring sting of splinters under his fingernail. A lovely sweet pain.
"Let's go," said Lupin, standing up abruptly. "I'm done drinking."
"And now you want to do what?" said Snape, reaching into his robes for a Galleon.
"I don't know," said Lupin heading for the back way out. "Something inappropriate and horrid."
"Somehow," said Snape, tossing a coin onto the table, "I imagine this will involve me getting very wet."
They both got drenched, kissing out back by the dustbins while fireworks both magic and mundane danced overhead. Sparks fell all around them, mixed with water and sulphur and smoke, the loud bursts of sound drowning out the quiet pleading moans Lupin made when Snape slid down and, after a brief struggle with robes and trousers, took Lupin's cock into his mouth.
The rain made everything reflective and the rain in Lupin's eyes made everything blurry. The walls were filthy, but in the dark dampness they seemed polished and streaked with every colour that exploded overhead, deep saturated reds and yellows splashing against the blackness of the street. Snape's tongue swelled against the underside of Lupin's cock as he sucked firmly and greedily. Snape's groans sent shivers up Lupin's spine.
Snape had one hand pressed against Lupin's stomach, trying to control the pace. But Lupin ignored him, driving deep into Snape's warm eager mouth, feeling such sharp wonderful pleasure, still he couldn't shake the hollowed out feeling. Something empty inside him, like the little scraped out hollow in the earth where a lot of things he had assumed about how his life would turn out changed quite suddenly and horribly.
Heavy raindrops splashed his face and collected in a puddle around Snape's knees. A nearby street lamp reflected orange in a half dozen glass shards littering the street, and for a brief moment Lupin worried about Snape there on the ground. But he didn't want to worry about Snape, he didn't want to care. He wanted to be selfish so he pulled Snape's hair -- but not too hard. He grabbed a handful but found it too slippery to hold; it was all wet and slimy from the rain. Lupin stroked Snape's cheek instead.
Lupin felt the muscles of Snape's throat contract around his cock. Snape's mouth was skilled but failed to chase the ghosts from Lupin's head. Lupin shoved hard into Snape's mouth over and over until an angry growl from Snape vibrated through him. He scraped his knuckles against the brick wall, rubbing them raw.
A blast of light filled the sky making the street suddenly noon-day bright and all the darker after. Lupin heard cheers and happy laughter. He thought about Peter, how frightened he must have been going up against Sirius alone. He let Peter down, he let everybody down.
This is how it ends, he thought, his own climax approaching fast, nothing earth-shattering just a baby crying in the middle of the night. A thousand lives destroyed and nothing to show for it but this dull emptiness and the crying of a baby. Still, he was sorry for the baby, sorry for Lily and James, sorry for Peter and Severus and even sorry for fucking Sirius, alone in the joyless madness of Azkaban. But he didn't want to be sorry. He didn't want to be anything.
After Lupin's orgasm Snape swallowed and sucked for a few painful seconds, draining every drop. His tongue brushed gently against the head of Lupin's wilted cock. Then Snape lifted Lupin's sodden jumper to kiss his stomach tenderly. Devoutly, thought Lupin.
"I'm tired," said Lupin, dropping to his knees. He wiped the hair out of Snape's face and kissed him. He tasted himself in Snape's mouth and the pleasure he found in that seemed selfish. "I'm tired," he said again.
"We're all tired," Snape replied. He kissed Lupin back, gently, and then stood up. "The Wolfsbane potion."
"Yes?" said Lupin, rising also, doing up his trousers and straightening his robe.
"Making it is complicated." Snape stretched and tossed his head from side to side in a fruitless attempt to shake the rain out of his hair. Lupin was struck by how lovely he looked, a tall stooped silhouette outlined in orange by the street lamp light.
"So you've said."
"It's just if you plan to kill yourself, you should tell me ahead of time. It'll save me a lot of bother."
Lupin smiled, the expression felt strange on his face. "Don't worry, Severus." A shower of wand sparks exploded from very close. "Why should I? After all this is a happy day."
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Rating: Hard R, possibly NC-17 for slash.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Warnings: Angst.
Summary: Fireworks, rain, and angst.
A/N: This is my second entry for the April Showers Challenge. In the last entry, I made Lupin cheerful and silly, in this one he's king of pain. Something for everyone.
It was raining. Pouring actually, thought Lupin. Like the rhyme, raining and pouring. It hadn't stopped raining since everyone died. Despite the downpour, there were fireworks and signs of celebration in the streets. Bonfires floated like damp fireflies along the grey horizon. It was a holiday -- a newborn holiday. Wizard London had been celebrating Voldemort's downfall rather recklessly for a week and now with the annual Muggle commotion providing a mask for their more ostentatious outpourings of joy, everyone had gone quite mad.
In Knockturn Alley, in one of its convenient nooks, its dark empty places -- a narrow dead end street behind a pub, a place to be forgotten, a place where things end, Lupin had his back to the wall and Snape was on his knees. Everyone was celebrating and this was Lupin's way.
Snape had found him on the street. Lupin had been leaning with his face pressed against a dust-coated shop window, trying to discern the obscure wares displayed inside. He was looking for something he needed, a kind of thing they didn't sell in Diagon.
"Come on," said Snape, seizing his hand and dragging him to the nearest pub.
"Where?" said Lupin. "Why are we going in here?"
"To drink," said Snape. "That's what you do, Lupin, when everything goes to hell -- you drink."
They sat there, silently, for nearly an hour, washing down whisky shots with pints of warm bitter ale. Snape scanned the room with a look on his face that managed to be somehow simultaneously bored and wary. The Knockturn crowd in the pub was more sullen than the mobs outside but even in there a few toasts went up and half-hearted cries of "victory" and "freedom at last". Lupin scraped at the varnish on the table with his finger, peeling away tiny bits of it to reveal the bare wood. Then he scratched into that until he felt the reassuring sting of splinters under his fingernail. A lovely sweet pain.
"Let's go," said Lupin, standing up abruptly. "I'm done drinking."
"And now you want to do what?" said Snape, reaching into his robes for a Galleon.
"I don't know," said Lupin heading for the back way out. "Something inappropriate and horrid."
"Somehow," said Snape, tossing a coin onto the table, "I imagine this will involve me getting very wet."
They both got drenched, kissing out back by the dustbins while fireworks both magic and mundane danced overhead. Sparks fell all around them, mixed with water and sulphur and smoke, the loud bursts of sound drowning out the quiet pleading moans Lupin made when Snape slid down and, after a brief struggle with robes and trousers, took Lupin's cock into his mouth.
The rain made everything reflective and the rain in Lupin's eyes made everything blurry. The walls were filthy, but in the dark dampness they seemed polished and streaked with every colour that exploded overhead, deep saturated reds and yellows splashing against the blackness of the street. Snape's tongue swelled against the underside of Lupin's cock as he sucked firmly and greedily. Snape's groans sent shivers up Lupin's spine.
Snape had one hand pressed against Lupin's stomach, trying to control the pace. But Lupin ignored him, driving deep into Snape's warm eager mouth, feeling such sharp wonderful pleasure, still he couldn't shake the hollowed out feeling. Something empty inside him, like the little scraped out hollow in the earth where a lot of things he had assumed about how his life would turn out changed quite suddenly and horribly.
Heavy raindrops splashed his face and collected in a puddle around Snape's knees. A nearby street lamp reflected orange in a half dozen glass shards littering the street, and for a brief moment Lupin worried about Snape there on the ground. But he didn't want to worry about Snape, he didn't want to care. He wanted to be selfish so he pulled Snape's hair -- but not too hard. He grabbed a handful but found it too slippery to hold; it was all wet and slimy from the rain. Lupin stroked Snape's cheek instead.
Lupin felt the muscles of Snape's throat contract around his cock. Snape's mouth was skilled but failed to chase the ghosts from Lupin's head. Lupin shoved hard into Snape's mouth over and over until an angry growl from Snape vibrated through him. He scraped his knuckles against the brick wall, rubbing them raw.
A blast of light filled the sky making the street suddenly noon-day bright and all the darker after. Lupin heard cheers and happy laughter. He thought about Peter, how frightened he must have been going up against Sirius alone. He let Peter down, he let everybody down.
This is how it ends, he thought, his own climax approaching fast, nothing earth-shattering just a baby crying in the middle of the night. A thousand lives destroyed and nothing to show for it but this dull emptiness and the crying of a baby. Still, he was sorry for the baby, sorry for Lily and James, sorry for Peter and Severus and even sorry for fucking Sirius, alone in the joyless madness of Azkaban. But he didn't want to be sorry. He didn't want to be anything.
After Lupin's orgasm Snape swallowed and sucked for a few painful seconds, draining every drop. His tongue brushed gently against the head of Lupin's wilted cock. Then Snape lifted Lupin's sodden jumper to kiss his stomach tenderly. Devoutly, thought Lupin.
"I'm tired," said Lupin, dropping to his knees. He wiped the hair out of Snape's face and kissed him. He tasted himself in Snape's mouth and the pleasure he found in that seemed selfish. "I'm tired," he said again.
"We're all tired," Snape replied. He kissed Lupin back, gently, and then stood up. "The Wolfsbane potion."
"Yes?" said Lupin, rising also, doing up his trousers and straightening his robe.
"Making it is complicated." Snape stretched and tossed his head from side to side in a fruitless attempt to shake the rain out of his hair. Lupin was struck by how lovely he looked, a tall stooped silhouette outlined in orange by the street lamp light.
"So you've said."
"It's just if you plan to kill yourself, you should tell me ahead of time. It'll save me a lot of bother."
Lupin smiled, the expression felt strange on his face. "Don't worry, Severus." A shower of wand sparks exploded from very close. "Why should I? After all this is a happy day."