The Truth Will Out

BY : BunnyBopper
Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Remus
Dragon prints: 1087
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from writing this story.

Remus waits until he hears the latch of his office door click into place before burying his mortified face in his hands and letting out a long, muffled groan. He walks over to his desk, still groaning, and wonders how what had just happened... happened.


“I – ah – come again?” Severus had said, clearly confused.

“I don’t want you to untie me," Remus had repeated, feeling his face catch fire as the Veritaserum gave voice to a desire he hadn't even known was there.

Severus had stood over him, arms crossed. Remus hadn't been able to look at his face, so had stared down at the man's black laced shoes. He'd never noticed how polished they were before.

“You don’t want me to untie you?” It had been difficult to tell, but Remus had thought he could detect a hint of amusement in Severus’ voice. “Why on earth would that be?”

“Because I want you to-" For the first time since the truth potion entered his system, Remus clamped his mouth shut to cut off the words desperate to spill out of his mouth. But they kept coming, a muffled chorus bouncing off the back of his teeth. At one point he thought he was going to drown in them.

Eventually, Remus broke. (Because of course he had: sheer force of will was no match against a potion made by the expert hands of Severus Snape.) Then he'd had no choice but to sit, bound to the chair, and listen to his own voice as it calmly list off a string of perverse acts. Things that, ordinarily, he wouldn't allow himself to fantasise about in his most private moments.

There were several torturous moments of silence after that. If he had been in that situation with anyone else – anyone with a shred of decency about them – they would have untied him immediately, offered a series of awkward apologies and never spoken about it again. But apparently, Severus did not have a shred of decency about him.

In his humiliation, Remus had shut his eyes, but still, he sensed Severus move closer. Heard the subtle swish of his robes, the clack of those gleaming shoes against the cold, stone floor. Felt the soft, surprisingly sweet breath against his cheek, the hand that came to rest lightly on his upper thigh, the vibration of his low voice.

“My goodness,” Severus had said softly into his ear, “I would never have guessed timid little Lupin would have such… persuasions.”

Severus had let him go after that – a snap of his fingers and the cords fell away, leaving Remus feeling somehow more exposed. “Another time, perhaps,” he’d said.


Remus supposes he'd got off lightly, he’d half-expected Severus to continue his torment, to make him spill more of the sordid details and watch him squirm. The very thought of it makes the blood rush to his groin. He hadn't realised what it was at the time, but from the moment he had been bound Remus had felt the thrill of arousal cut through the anger and fear. And now he was safe, it was the only thing left.

Had he always been like this? Was he so pathetic, so starved of intimacy that being tied up and humiliated by a man that hated him left him hard and aching? Or did he just value himself so little he thought that was all he deserved?

He leans over his desk, shifting uncomfortably at the tightness of his already too-small trousers. Even though he knows it's a mistake, his hand wanders down to palm himself through the fabric. The light touch only makes the need even more unbearable. Feeling strangely powerless, like an outsider watching himself do something appalling, Remus unbuttons himself with one hand, braces himself against the desk with the other. Cursing himself (along with Severus) under his breath, he wraps a firm hand around himself and tugs.

At first, it’s basic, mechanical. Just something needs to get done and out of his system. But soon he’s losing himself, hips juddering as he thrusts his leaking cock into his own hand again and again. The image of Severus fills his mind- not that it’s ever really left it- looking down at him in coldly. What would he say if he could see Remus now?

“Fuck,” he hisses. His body stiffens, back tight and arching as his pleasure mounts, spills over his pumping hand until he’s bent almost double, taking deep, shuddering breaths to try and right himself as quickly as possible. The bliss of release evaporates as he's hit by a heavy wave of shame almost instantly.

He's hasn't even finished putting himself back together when there's a knock at the door. In a vain attempt to calm the panic rising within him, Remus coughs theatrically before loudly announcing that he would 'just be a moment'. He smoothes out his rumpled clothes, brushes his hair back out of his face, and rushes to answer, still half-convinced there will be something to betray what he’s just done.

“Am I... interrupting something?”

Severus stands before him with a smirk on his face, holding out Remus’ nightly dose of Wolfsbane as if the past two hours never happened. He doesn't pause for an answer, isn't expecting one. Remus' face - flushing scarlet and reeking or suppressed guilt - has told him everything already.

“I tried calling out to you before you left,” Severus continues, “but you were in such a hurry...”

Remus begins to contemplate just how far he could get on the last of this month's salary if he just packed up his belongings and left Hogwarts – no, the country – right this very moment.

Before he can do just that, Severus, still smiling wickedly, thrusts the goblet into his hand. "You still need to take this; you should know by now that any additions render it useless."

“What makes you think I would accept so much as a glass of pumpkin juice from you now?!” Remus exclaimed after regaining his voice.

"I agree," said Severus softly. "You'd be quite mad to trust me again...well, mad or desperate...but I have no desire to - ah - interfere with you again. I’ve got all the information I a little more I hadn't quite...expected."

Embarrassment flaring again, Remus snatches the goblet and downs it in one just as before. He has a fair point: Severus has no need to spike him again now he knows the truth, and no reason to harm him now he's certain that Remus isn't a threat. Plus, if the potion does kill him, at least he'll be spared being mocked by Severus for the rest of time.

Severus seems surprised at first, but the wry smile is back in place by the time Remus is handing back the cup with what he hopes is a dignified air. Their hands meet and Severus allows the touch to linger a moment too long. It's electric.

“So, which are you, Remus?" he asks, shifting almost imperceptibly closer. "Mad?” - he takes Remus’ chin into his hand, tilts it upward as though he were inspecting him - “Or desperate?"

The reply catches in Remus' throat as Severus places a finger over his mouth, drags it across his lips ever-so-lightly.

"On second thought," he says, "don't tell me. It'll be much more interesting to find out for myself..."

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