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You Will Not Kiss Me	By : Prosperosdaughter Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Remus Views: 22836 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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Chapter List
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Chapter 2: Calm before the Storm

As distressed as Snape had been when he went to bed by the events the night before, he had slept dreamlessly and awoke the next morning sore, but rested and clear-headed. It surprised him. He thought on it whilst he bathed and applied various balms to his bruises. Had it really as simple as he had said to the wolf last night? That he just needed it out of his system? Wasn't that really rather reminiscent of pubescent jibes made in his last years at school aimed at his rather serious demeanour: "A good shag would sort him out."

Yes, he remembered that. As he recalled, it was normally followed by some jibe about his appearance (his nose, his hair, his thinness) or his personal hygiene making the possibility of a lover quite remote. He had always been a very clean man and always found those jibes particularly hurtful. He found he didn't much care what was said about his looks: he knew he was unpleasing to the eye. His father had made sure he understood that from a very early age. Oh yes. His blessed father who had ensured that his son understood how very little intrinsic value he had as a son. But he had one thing his father could never have and could never take away from him: his magic. Snape worshipped his magic, the power that it gave him, the possibilities it would open up for him. Magic and school would be his escape from misery, wouldn't they? It was never that straightforward for him though, was it?

No time for reverie, he thought as he dressed. He needed to check on the Wolfsbane potion he was brewing for Lupin as the full moon was the next day so the beast had another two doses to take. He sent it by house elf. Then, he strode to the Great Hall for breakfast. He was feeling well today: better than he had for weeks. He wasn't concerned about seeing the werewolf either – he knew the werewolf had been humiliated last night, even if it had cost Snape no small amount of shame himself. Thinking on the werewolf's anger and shame gave him some small pleasure.

After the full moon, Dumbledore told Snape that Lupin had had a particularly bad transformation and was taking some time to recover and asked him to take the DADA classes. Snape assured Dumbledore that the potion had been brewed perfectly and the creature's transformation should have been trouble-free. He wondered if the beast was trying to undermine him although secretly he had some additional pleasure that Lupin was suffering.

Now for the creature's classes. Snape smirked. He only had one lesson plan for all DADA years: page 394 should do it.

Once Lupin was back to teaching, Snape received Lupin's curt note to advise he had instructed all of his classes that no-one would be expected to submit Snape's homework on how to identify and kill a werewolf. Lupin thanked him not to deviate from his lesson plans in the future. Yes, Snape felt very much in control once more, despite Dumbledore's dressing down that Snape had come perilously close in his view to breaking his decades-old vow to keep Lupin's secret, however, Snape tried to dress it up.

However, he noticed a week or so later that his mood was beginning to plummet again. His darkly erotic dreams began to recur, intermittently at first, then with increased strength and fervour. His desire was growing just as before; he was getting less and less sleep and becoming more and more distracted. Within just over a week, he felt so physically weakened by the lack of sleep and gnawing desire that he wondered if for the first time in his teaching career, he would need to ask for cover.

He was sitting at his desk at in the small hours of the morning, going through his brewing diary, when he recognised the pattern emerging. It shook him to the core, not least because, if this were true, then Lupin would know – just like before.

He used lunar charts to assure that he brewed the Wolfsbane at the correct times in the lunar cycle. Tracing back when his feeling first started to the last full moon, and what was happening this time, Snape could see quite clearly that his mood and desires had attuned to the phases of the moon. The moon was waxing and his desire was waxing with it.

He slumped over his desk and laced his hands over his head in desperation. Would the creature come to him again? Lupin had declared he would not. Would this suffice? Snape tried to think clearly and found his usual incisive brain dulled once again by thickening desire. If his desires were attuned to the moon, was it a natural or a magical connection? Did it stem from himself, or from Lupin? Could it be a curse wrought by an enemy of one of them? He needed to think but he couldn't. He needed to sever it, however it had arisen. He did not want to shame himself again. For the tenth night in a row, he took himself to bed, knowing there would be no rest.

Snape woke feeling wretched after a night of dreams and nightmares in equal measure, and unrelieved mounting sexual frustration, he thanked Merlin that most of the students had left for Christmas. There was a note waiting for him, magically sealed so only his wand could open it. His eyes widened when he saw the sender was Lupin. The message contained the name of a book in the restricted section, Darke Creatures and theyre Usages in Darke Enchantments and the chapter name: Thralls. The message scrawled, "Why did you do this to me?"

Snape sat down heavily with the note in his hand, staring at it for some time. Thralls were ancient sexual bond enchantments. He knew of them, but to no great degree for, whilst they were Dark magic of the first order, they had never been of interest to the Dark Lord who preferred coercion of a more direct and violent variety.

He had originally suspected Lupin of bewitching him but from his own knowledge knew that was not so. It had never crossed his mind that he had done this to himself. How could he do such a thing unknowingly? Was it even possible? Lupin obviously thought it was deliberate. Snape shuddered. Now the wolf really would be angry and Snape was already nauseous with desire and shame; he did not need fear added to his malaise. For this made him realise that, whilst his deep desire for the creature had returned, his fear had, up until now, vanished.

Another question then occurred and it startled him with its clarity: if he had woven the thrall, why was he not master of the thrall, and therefore of Lupin himself? Why was he suffering to such a degree? Yes, there was no doubt in his mind, he was enthralled to the werewolf, not the other way around.

He needed to know what the book said. He needed Lupin to help him break the thrall and so secure his help, he had to make him understand that he had not woven the thrall.

He wrote thus:

I did not weave a thrall. Had I done so, would I not be your master? You saw me last month; I am in no better way now. I believe I am the one enthralled. Please give me your assistance. Do you have the book?

He used the same spell as Lupin to seal it and called a house elf to deliver it. He sat, dishevelled, tired and drained, and waited.

It wasn't long before Lupin arrived by Floo with an ancient leather tome under his arm. He dusted himself off and looked for a long time at Snape without saying anything. Snape kept his eyes downcast. He could not trust himself. The man was in his room again and the effect on Snape was immediate and as electric as the first time. He just would not look. He noticed that his hands trembled slightly so he balled them into fists and placed them in the folds of his robe.

Lupin placed the book on Snape's table. "I'll leave it with you," he said to Snape. "I'm not sure if I believe that you did not do this to me, but I believe you are suffering as I do." Snape was ready to scoff until he looked up at Lupin, and he saw how ashen and drawn Lupin's face was as if he too had had no sleep or food for quite some time.

"The last full night's sleep I had was over two weeks ago," Lupin said. "I can barely eat, and my transformation was the most brutally painful it's ever been. I kept my mind but this time the potion did not ease the pain. Apparently," Lupin looked rueful, "it is part of the thrall." He indicated the book. "Every time I ignore your Call, I become more agitated and sleep eludes me further."

"I promise you, Lupin, I did not do this to you," Snape said quietly and looked down again. Those blue eyes, even though bloodshot with lack of sleep, could ensnare him, he knew. "I don't believe that I have Called you. I don't even know how."

Lupin nodded and moved away from the table and indicated the book again . "Every time you desire me, your desire Calls to me through the thrall's connection. Under your thrall, I should respond and come to you. Of course, I do not, so I suffer."

Without thinking, Snape reached out to grasp Lupin's hand. "I did not know I was doing any such thing. Please stay," he said, not believing he could do this to himself again, all those questions he had intended to ask or work through with Lupin, suddenly gone from his head, and now only one thing on his mind. Lupin pulled Snape to his feet and placed his hand under his chin. This time, Snape did not look away.

"Severus, you know it is a thrall that has made this sexual obsession. You do not want me really and I will not let you humiliate me again. Send me away and then we can work on breaking the enchantment." His tone of voice was compassionate but firm, his eyes were pleading.

"Without the thrall, you could never find me attractive," Snape said, his voice tremulous.

"I don't think the thrall is the issue for us on that score, Severus. Had we had no history and I had come here as a professor, I would definitely have tried to get to know you. You are my age, we have similar interests." Lupin smiled, a wonderful, beguiling smile, and he touched Snape gently on the tip of his nose, and Snape thought he might soon become undone completely. "Who is to say what might have happened between us under other circumstances? I have never thought you unattractive, just unattainable."

Snape's throat was as dry as bone. "You lie," he rasped.

"No," Lupin stated simply, "no. I have no need to lie to you." Lupin lifted Snape's hand that was still holding his own and placed a small kiss on it. "It would be easy for us to have sex now would it not? It is a powerful enchantment and it would ensure our sexual satisfaction. The questions have to be whether we both want to; whether we genuinely desire one another; can we be compatible; will we hate ourselves and each other come the morning, like last time? It can't be how we were last time. I don't want that. It makes me heartsick to add more self-loathing to my life."

"I am intimately acquainted with self-loathing Lupin," Snape sneered. "It's not your monopoly. How we had sex last time is all I know. What you want is alien to me."

Snape saw Lupin's jaw clench and he fancied those blue eyes darkened dangerously. "Severus, love, affection, comfort, friendship – how are these things alien to you?"

Snape looked away again, to have his face brought back gently to feast on those blue eyes. "I may tell you one day, but not this day," he heard himself whisper. "But, I will tell you that I genuinely desire you and," Snape said simply, his throat quite dry, "I do not want to send you away now nor do I wish to hate myself in the morning."

Lupin took Snape's other hand and pulled Snape close. "Then will you take what I have to offer?" Snape nodded mutely. "May I kiss you?" Lupin asked gently. Snape leant in to gently catch Lupin's soft mouth and they kissed deeply and searchingly. Lupin caught Snape around the waist and drew him against his chest while his right hand played through Snape's hair. Snape responded, his arms hands clasping Lupin's hips, pulling them towards himself, feeling Lupin's erection against his own, gasping during the kiss at the feel of it.

They had only started touching, and yet Snape once again found himself at such a pitch of desire. Such strength of desire had to be the work of the thrall! It was almost as painful as pleasant whilst it was unsatisfied. Lupin was manoeuvring Snape towards the bedroom door. This time, Snape thought, he was going to give into whatever the man wanted completely. He disengaged from the kiss and led Lupin to the bedroom hurriedly. They stood on no ceremony undressing. Once before each other naked again, Snape was again transfixed by how much he desired the man before him, how much he wanted to drink in his form and he wondered if Lupin felt the same.

As before, Lupin made the first move towards him, but not to turn him around this time. This time, he drew Snape into another passionate kiss, whilst his hands ran over Snape's back, setting it alight with pleasure. Snape's hands dived into the man's hair, massaging the scalp and running his fingers through it, then finding Lupin's jaw line and neck and running his fingers along those, sparking electricity in his own fingertips. Lupin was moaning gently into the kiss each time Snape's fingers touched his skin. Snape found himself excited by these noises, provoking him to touch the man more and more greedily. His hands, like Lupin's own mirrored on Snape's body, were now exploring Lupin's sides, stomach and back, at first gently then grasping with more urgency to touch and to feel each other.

Snape was hungry for sex, but this type of intimacy was new and fresh and seemed to enervate every nerve ending in his body and he felt once again weak at the knees. Lupin had disengaged from kissing and had Snape almost bent backwards over one strong arm whilst his lips and teeth once again explore Snape's neck and chest. Snape realised he himself was moaning and hissing through clenched teeth at the deep, searing pleasure these attentions were invoking in him, layering pleasure upon pleasure to his throbbing desire. Had he ever been so unguarded?

The man now lowered Snape onto his bed, still firmly kissing and nibbling at his neck and chest, occasionally sucking on the skin. It was all Snape could do to hold on to Lupin's hair as Snape was driven to a frenzy. Lower and lower Lupin's head went, exploring Snape ribs and stomach and further down. When Lupin began to kiss and nibble the end of Snape's too hard cock, Snape thought he would just split wide open with pleasure. Then Lupin drew his tongue firmly up and down his shaft before taking all of him in his mouth and sucking gently whilst his hands massaged his balls and stroked his opening. Snape cried out. He had not expected it. He could feel Lupin smile against his own cock. Then Lupin moved himself back up over Snape, his right hand still working against Snape's opening, using his fingers expertly to prepare him; his left hand now cupping Snape's head close to his own to kiss Snape passionately once again. Both men were sweating and Snape's breathing was particularly ragged. It seemed to be taking all his self-control now not to come before he'd even been penetrated and his whole body ached to be entered and possessed fully.

Lupin stopped kissing Snape, and drew himself slightly away as he positioned his own engorged cock with his hand to enter Snape. He looked directly into Snape's eyes, his blue eyes darkened, pupils dilated with pleasure. There was no doubt in Snape's mind that he could not now have looked away even if his life depended on it he was so enraptured. The man pushed into him slowly, never taking his eyes from Snape's own, soft moans escaping from him matched by Snape's own.

One hand held Snape's hip firmly as Lupin slowly ground into Snape, he then firmly held Snape's own cock and began to stroke it in time. With both of Snape's hands firmly grasping and kneading Lupin's backside with urgency, each thrust was slow and deep, seemingly designed to tantalise and thrill Snape to the point of madness, Lupin whispering "Severus" amongst the moans, almost like a mesmeric chant that sent Snape's head spinning. Lupin bent his head into Snape's ear as he thrust and whispered, "Tell me what you want Severus." Snape's eyes were beginning to water. So much of his usual reticence had already been cast aside, did the man expect him to beg for release? How had the man managed to keep such iron control of himself? Snape himself was almost in pain he was so desperate to come and he realised his moans were becoming almost whimpers of helplessness.

Still Lupin continued his slow and deep penetration occasionally adjusting his hips causing Snape to gasp further, still not quickening, not taking his eyes from Snape. "Please," Snape almost choked on his own desire, "please Remus, I need... please I need you to ... faster and harder!"

Lupin's eyes were still fixed on his and a small smile played on his lips, and Snape thought he heard the man say in the softest voice, "thank you Severus."

Surely and certainly, Lupin began riding Snape just harder at first, his grip also tighter. Snape's breath began to hitch. Deep and very hard. The pace began to quicken. Still Lupin's eyes never left Snape's face. "Tell me, Severus, tell me."

"Please," was all Snape could manage, but Lupin thrust in faster and harder than ever, each thrust eliciting a grunt from Lupin and wrenching loud hitching breaths from Snape, who could no longer look at Lupin as his eyes rolled back into his head, colour bursting in his black vision as his orgasm flooded over him in such powerful waves that he again cried out. Within two thrusts this time, Lupin came too, crying out hoarsely. Snape looked at Lupin and drank those blue eyes deeply, trying to steady his own breath as Lupin slowly pumped a couple of time more before lowering himself onto Snape's chest and calming his own breath, and then kissing him.

He had hated the very idea of this enchantment, of his utter loss of self control, but as Lupin lay down next to him, and pulled Snape back into Lupin's chest and wrapped his arms around him and kissed his head and neck gently, Snape knew he would never have been capable of such sexual abandon had he not been enchanted. A treacherous part of him wished it could continue so he could explore these extraordinary and liberating sensations more. But then, any type of liberation hadn't been part of Severus Snape's life for so many years. Surely, it was too much to ask.

Snape noticed he no longer thought of Lupin as the creature. Indeed, he couldn't think of him as the creature at all. It was as if his mind had fundamentally shifted in perception. He considered the sinewy arms around him, feathered with scars, and thought they were the most wonderful sight he had ever seen. How could a thrall be so strong without intentional casting, he found himself wondering. He wondered what Lupin was thinking now, Lupin who was holding him tight to his body as if he were treasured and who would kiss his head and neck every now and then with affection and caring.

Severus was tired, but he didn't want the man to leave. He didn't want ghost arms; he wanted these real arms around him, just for the night. They could discuss the book and how to break the enchantment tomorrow. Their heads would be clear tomorrow. "Will you stay the night Remus?" he asked quietly.

Lupin's arms tightened and he breathed, "Yes," into Snape's ear and nuzzled his hair.
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You Will Not Kiss Me