Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Aftercare	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Remus Views: 17017 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
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Part II: Prejudgments

Remus gaped at Harry, who stared right back at him with wide eyes. It seemed as though he could not decide whether he was more angry or horrified by Remus's discovery of his secret.

After a pregnant pause, he took a small step forward, and the stunned silence seemed to break. Harry snatched up the journal off the floor, tossed it into the trunk, and snapped it shut. It was only after he'd waved his wand and put the secrecy charms back in place did he round on Remus.

“You were snooping though my private property, Remus,” Harry said evenly, his voice quivering with anger. “I have secrecy charms and alarms on this to keep Teddy from finding it, but I never thought you would go nosing through my things. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I'm sorry, Harry,” Remus said quickly, unable to meet Harry's eye as he spoke. “I—I...I was concerned. You go off almost every night, and you always came back smelling like sex. My nose is better than most, as you recall, and it wasn't something your friends or Teddy would be able to pick up, but I could. I just wanted to make sure you were being careful, so one night I...” he trailed off, and looked back up at his young housemate.

“You followed me,” Harry said in a toneless voice, and Remus nodded as he dropped his gaze again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry's expression harden. “What gives you the right?” Harry demanded, his voice still dangerously cold and even. Remus looked back up to the young man, and he saw rage burning in his eyes. Never in his life had he seen Harry so angry, but so calm. He was more accustomed to the version of Harry that would fly off the handle at the simplest provocation, and this calm, almost aloof version seemed even worse, somehow. “What the hell made you think it was okay to stalk me, then snoop not just through my things—my very private, under secrecy charms for a damn good reason things? Explain yourself.”

“I-It's not what you think,” Remus said quickly, “I was concerned, so I—”

“Oh, concerned, were you?” Harry sniped, the hysterical note in his voice jumping higher as his anger spiked, “so my everything is fine explanations weren't enough for you, you had to pull that hovering parental figure thing and stalk me to figure out what the hell I was up to? Did it not occur to you that maybe I didn't tell you for a reason?”

Remus grimaced at the hovering parent remark, his insides squirming with unease at how it clashed with this new, budding arousal he had begun to feel for him. He did not allow himself to dwell on it for the present moment, as with Harry's rising temper, he wasn't keen on letting it spiral out of control.

“I'm a werewolf, Harry,” Remus said firmly as he levelled his gaze with the young man, “that means my senses are keener than those of an average witch or wizard. You come home every other night stinking of sex, and would not explain anything to me beyond claiming that things were fine. Did it not occur to you that I was afraid that you were being abused by someone?”

“Abused? Abused? After the hell I grew up with, do you seriously think I'd let someone treat me like that?”

“If that box of yours is any indication—” Remus began, but Harry cut him off quickly, his face deepening to a magenta in his anger.
“That is not the same thing, Remus,” Harry snarled, his voice indicating how deeply insulted he was by the crass accusation that it stopped Remus short. “What I'm into...it's not about abuse. It's never about abuse.”

“Then explain it to me, Harry,” Remus said, his tone softening as he looked on to his housemate and friend, his stomach knotted and uneasy. “I'm sorry that I looked through your things, it was wrong, I know this—but I was concerned, that's all. After I went to that—that club and saw you on stage like that...wouldn't you be concerned if you were in my position?”

Remus's latter question did not seem to register with Harry. He looked on with wide eyes, and some of the colour drained from his face, leaving it a sort of sickly green when he realized what Remus was saying.

“You...you saw everything?”

“I watched your performance, and I left,” Remus explained evenly, “I...I didn't know what to make of it. It was...enthralling. I couldn't understand why you would want to...”

He chanced a glance back up at Harry as he trailed off, and Harry sighed heavily. Some of his anger seemed to be fading, and he stepped around Remus to sit down heavily on the bed next to him. He was just close enough that he could feel Harry's body heat, and after all he'd learnt about the young man recently, it was beyond enticing. For a moment, Harry didn't speak, but instead glared at his knees. His posture screamed of defensiveness to Remus, and he wondered vaguely just how often Harry had to explain himself to outsiders like this.

“Ever since I entered the wizarding world, I have had to be in charge,” Harry began, “my whole life was planned out for me, and I was always the one pushed into the leadership role, the one who was looked at as a hero, or a guiding light, or however you want to phrase it...I could never rest. After everything, and everyone we lost...I felt lost. I couldn't really move on, I just felt...stuck.

“Ron and Hermione didn't really get it, and they always listened, and tried to help, but they couldn't quite understand why I couldn't just get over it.” Harry paused and wrinkled his nose in disgust at the words, and it took him another moment for him to calm down enough to continue. “Then...last year, I was visiting Neville and Luna, and I was sort of...unloading on them about how I felt, and how frustrating it was trying to explain it all to Ron and Hermione, and all the rest of it, and Luna had an...unusual suggestion.”

“As she so often does,” Remus added, remembering the journal entry's first few lines immediately, as she was the one to initially suggest the club to him. Harry's mouth twitched into a faint smirk as he nodded, then continued with his story.

“At first, I really, really didn't want to go. I thought she was mental for even suggesting such a thing. I mean, how in the hell was...” Harry waved his hand significantly towards where the trunk was hidden, “all this supposed to help me?”

“But you did go,” Remus filled in, and Harry nodded his head again.

“Yeah, I did. It was...freeing. Incredible...it was an epiphany. This was what I had been missing all along. To...to hand over complete control to someone else, even for a little while...I can't really explain it. The pain, the pleasure, the...restrictions...it's all the same to me, it's ecstasy. Sex was never fulfilling for me until all this started, I can't be in control. I need to be held down, dominated...all of it.”

Remus felt enchanted by Harry's words, and he could see on the young man's face just how important this was to him. It seemed to go well beyond a sexual kink, and somewhere along the way it had become an integral part of who Harry was. Now that Remus was looking beyond the simple shock of it all, it seemed as though this—whatever this was—truly made Harry happy.

“Do Ron and Hermione know?” Remus asked eventually, and Harry laughed.

“Hell no,” he said at once, and Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise. Harry quickly elaborated as his laughter calmed to an amused sort of grimace. “I knew it was unconventional, and Luna, Neville, and Blaise all warned me that sometimes people get the wrong idea, especially about subs like me, and think we're abused, or sex slaves or something. I decided to try and get a feel for them first before I told them anything, and their reactions were pretty predictable, to tell the truth. Hermione thought it was this awful, horrible...thing, where the subs are coerced and brainwashed into thinking that they like it, and the doms are these sadistic bastards that get off on inflicting pain. Ron just thought it was weird, but he wasn't as...vehement as Hermione.” Harry paused and heaved a sigh while he raked his hand through his hair. “After that, I decided not to tell them, and I didn't bother correcting their opinions about it—I thought it'd arouse suspicion, so I just let it be, and I never brought it up again.”

“And the performances?” Remus asked softly, “you're not exactly unknown, Harry, aren't you worried that someone will tell the press?”

“No,” Harry replied with a small snort. “The BDSM community...we're tight-knit. The people there all know the risks of bring outed, so to speak. The people there are Healers, Professors, Shop Owners, Politicians...It'd be detrimental if someone were to find out. We all know that, so we never tattle on each other.”

“All right,” Remus said as he tried to wrap his head around what he was hearing. “But the performances...why do you do them? You hated being in the spotlight with your clothes on. So...why do you do it?”

“It's not an attention-seeking thing...not really, anyway,” Harry replied as he squirmed in his seat uncomfortably. “It's sort of like a dance to us. We're putting on a show. It's art.”

“I never took you for an Aesthete, Harry,” Remus mused, and Harry blinked.

“A what?”

“Never mind,” he said quickly, “are you and Mr Zabini involved, then?”

The question seemed simple enough to Remus, but at this Harry flushed a deep scarlet. After all he had seen, the older man was quite amazed that Harry could feel embarrassed about anything anymore, especially after displaying his bare arse to an audience like that.

“No,” Harry replied, “we're sort of...Friends with Benefits. He's a professional dominant, and when he has a new thing he wants to try, I'm usually his guinea pig, and we do performances together. I can't see him as the type to tie himself down to one sub for any major stretch of time.”

“Hm.” Remus regarded Harry curiously, and watched as Harry's eyes darted from him to where his trunk was hidden, and back again. If Remus didn't know any better, he'd say that the young man was frightened. It had taken a moment for Remus to realize what he was seeing, and then he recalled Harry's initial reaction—before his anger, there, he had exhibited fear too.

“Harry,” Remus said, careful to keep his tone light and unaccusing as he spoke, “when you first caught me, you weren't angry—you were scared. Why is that?”

Harry seemed to blanch a little at the question, and his gaze dropped down to his knees. His fingers clenched tightly to the duvet that they sat on, and it took him a long moment for him to verbally respond to Remus's question. The physical display of unease deeply bothered Remus, and for a moment he felt compelled to draw Harry into his arms and soothe him. The urge deeply confused him, and he forced it to the back of his mind as he tried to patiently wait for Harry to answer.

“A lot of people misunderstand what I'm into,” Harry explained, his voice dropping to a soft, almost fearful tone, “I was afraid that if you found out, you wouldn't let me see Teddy anymore.”

A heavy silence following Harry's admission. He did not look up as he spoke, and instead directed his answer to his knees. Remus did not need his innate werewolf senses to sense the fear that he had seen in Harry initially when he had caught Remus, and now following his tentative question. It rang in every movement that he made. But hearing his explanation for the secrecy, Remus felt his heart clench, both out of sympathy and guilt. In part due to the fact that he had been watching Harry even more closely than usual following his discovery, and he felt doubly anguished at Harry's belief that he would bar him from seeing Teddy.

“I'll admit,” Remus said slowly as he reached out a hand to rest it on Harry's knee. The touch had meant to be comforting, but the moment his fingers made contact with him, he felt that pull again, his wolf scrabbling at the inside of his mind, desperate to take what he wanted of Harry. He quickly pulled back as he continued, “at first, I was concerned. I trust you with my son, Harry, I always will—but you must understand that seeing you like that was shocking...it wasn't something that I would have expected of you. I knew that you would never be inappropriate with Teddy, but in the few days after, I do admit to watching you a little more cautiously, but when I saw no change in you, my worries ceased. The charms...they're to keep Teddy from finding it, right?”

“Er, yeah,” Harry replied, a small smile now stretched across his face. “Kids get into stuff they're not supposed to all the time, so it's warded that if someone opens the trunk and they're not me, I get a sort of...alert. That's how I caught you,” he explained while he smirked a little, as though pleased with himself at his charmwork, and Remus chuckled.

“Well, I certainly deserved it,” he replied, and reached out tentatively again. Harry did not move, and Remus rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. The young man shivered, and Remus's nostrils flared. He tried to swallow his surprise, but he was not certain how well he had managed it, for the scent emanating from Harry at that exact moment was not one of fear or unease.

It was arousal.

“Harry?” Remus asked weakly, and the young man's gaze met his. His eyes were a thin line of green drowned out by his largely dilated pupils, and his breathing had become somewhat laboured. Harry blinked his eyes several times and bit his bottom lip, as though he was struggling to get himself under control. Remus fidgeted, and Harry's gaze dropped to his groin, and grinned at the growing bulge that he saw there. His gaze snapped up one last time, and his expression had shifted to calculating, though it was still saturated by his desire. He seemed to be sizing Remus up in some way, when quite suddenly, he inched closer.

Remus's heartbeat doubled in an instant, the small movement having the same effect on him as though Harry had jumped on him. Inside, his wolf was howling plaintively, desperate to take Harry then and there. Remus's hands clenched around the bedding.

“I—I need to go, Harry,” he said suddenly, and jumped to his feet. He was halfway to the door before he paused and turned to the young man again, “this has been very...illuminating.”

Remus did not wait for Harry's response before he hastened out of the room.

It was only after Remus had made it to his own bedroom and shut the door that he remembered in all the confusion that he did not know where Teddy was, and for a moment, he felt slightly sick. What parent forgets about their own child? However, he could already hear Harry thumping down to the main level, the distinct whoosh of the Floo, and Teddy's childlike, tinkling voice permeated the silence.

“Uncle Harry, where's Daddy?” he chirped. Even from such a distance, Remus could hear his son perfectly.

“Your dad's...having a time-out,” Harry replied, and Remus could hear laughter in his tone. Teddy gasped audibly, and Remus could all-but see his son's shocked expression in his mind's eye. Eyes wide, mouth dropped open, and his mop of violet hair sticking up every which way, making him look like a muggle interpretation of a pixie. It was terribly endearing.

“What did Daddy do?” Teddy asked breathlessly, “did you put him in time-out?”

“Well...” Harry trailed off, and Remus tensed. “Your daddy and I were having a grownup talk, you know what I mean?”

“Uh-huh,” Teddy replied, “stuff I'm not supposed to know about yet, 'cause I'm little. Uncle Ron says that he'll tell me about grownup stuff when I hit two did-its...but I don't know what a did-it is, so I can't hit one!”

For a moment, Harry could not respond, for he was laughing too hard. Remus smiled a little, and felt himself relax. Not for the first time, he was deeply grateful for Harry. Remus felt that was turning out to be something of a rubbish parent, and Harry seemed to help keep things in order...despite his slightly unconventional bedroom habits.

Slowly, Remus tuned Harry and Teddy out as his mind wandered back to their conversation, now that he was assured that his son was safe. So close to full moon, barely three days away, he did not wholly trust his mind, nor the mental and physical reactions he'd begun to feel towards someone who was old enough to be his own son.

If James or Sirius were here, they'd skin me alive for even entertaining the idea...

But the other half of it was Harry's clear desire, which had surprised Remus most of all. Had it been feigned? Did he just want to pretend, like he had with Zabini?

Something in that concept deeply unsettled Remus, and he shivered a little. Part of being a werewolf was the need to dominate—to control. It was part of why he'd dated so little—he was afraid of hurting a partner by accident, or letting his bedroom domineering tendencies get the better of him.

But to have someone under him would would welcome a little pain, a little rough treatment...Remus hated how appealing that sounded to him.

He let out a soft, unwilling moan, and reached down automatically to rub at his budding erection as his imagination ran wild.

Harry, beneath him, his torso littered with blushing love-bites, his wrists pinned above his head by Remus's arm, and his legs locked around his hips while he drove into the young man, each thrust making him cry out. Harry squirmed in his hold, but did not attempt to escape. The leather collar at Harry's throat marked the young man as his, and as he bowed forward to tug at it with his teeth, reminding Harry of its presence, he moaned again and arched into Remus's touch...

Remus shook himself out of the fantasy.

By all accounts, it was likely much more tame than what Harry would be used to, but the mental image did not fail to arouse him nonetheless.

After casting a quick Silencing Charm on the door, Remus went to work to hastily rid himself of his obvious arousal before Harry or Teddy came looking for him.

As he stroked himself, more images of Harry naked or very nearly flooded into his mind, and he let out an ashamed whimper at the thought of Harry underneath him. It shouldn't be arousing, he knew that, Harry was his best friend's son, for Merlin's sake! However, despite his reservations, he came hard, and sat there, panting and sticky, for several long minutes before he had the good sense to clean himself up.

It was not a moment too soon, for just as Remus had finished fastening his trousers, he heard a soft tapping on his door.

“Remus?” Harry's muffled voice called through the door, “may I come in?”

Remus lifted the one-sided charm as he called, “come in!”

Despite the fact that Remus had found release barely thirty seconds earlier, the moment that Harry crossed the threshold into his room and he caught the younger man's scent, he immediately felt the stirrings of arousal begin to resurface.

This is ridiculous, Remus thought, am I fourteen or forty-four?

“I just wanted to see how you were, after our...er, discussion,” Harry said, his face flushing a little. Thankfully however, he kept his distance as he continued. Remus shuddered to think of what he might do if Harry got any closer to him at that moment. “Teddy was asking for you, but I thought you might need a little time, so I kept him occupied until his nap.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Remus said as he felt embarrassment layer over his arousal, “I honestly don't know what I would do without you, as I'm sure you've noticed, I'm not turning out to be the most spectacular parent...”

“Rubbish,” Harry cut across him at once, “you're a brilliant dad, and Teddy adores you. It's a damn sight better than my upbringing, that's for sure.”

“Well, had I known more explicitly what you had gone through, I may have tried to step in,” Remus replied at once, frowning as he recalled a fair few of Harry's drunken confessionals after he and Teddy had semi-permanently moved into Grimmauld Place. He'd known that Harry was unhappy there, but he had never known the extent of what he'd endured until recently, for which he felt truly guilty over.

“Would you?” Harry asked, his tone somewhat breathless as he took a small step forward, and Remus stared wide-eyed at the young man's very abrupt change in tone. Remus took a small step back in his alarm, but Harry was undeterred. “Would you have, Remus?” Harry asked again in that same purring voice, “take me away like some fair damsel trapped in a tower?”

“A dungeon, more like,” Remus replied with an arched brow, and Harry flushed an attractive pink, but he did not deny it. Instead he took another step forward, and the halting nervousness he saw in the young man's eyes stopped Remus from skittering back from him like a frightened animal. Harry reached out, and Remus's breath caught as Harry's fingers threaded with his.

In an instant, his resistance shattered, and suddenly the young man was in his arms, their mouths crashed together, and Remus held fast to him. His thoughts were a mess of conflicting emotions from guilt as he wondered whether such a thing was too soon after Dora, to the sheer wrongness of it, given who Harry was to him, and the sheer bliss of tasting the young man, of touching him, and how desperately he wanted to claim him for his own.

“Harry,” Remus breathed, his instincts screaming at him for stopping the proceedings, “Harry, wait, please...”

Harry pulled back and looked up at Remus with wide eyes. His lust was clear, and the look made Remus want him all the more.

“What is it now?” Harry asked, his tone caught between frustrated and lustful.

“Have you thought about this? Properly? I'm—for God's sake, I'm old enough to be your father, I'm a werewolf, I'm a single father, and—”

“—If I cared about all that, do you think I'd be snogging you right now?” Harry interrupted as he arched an eyebrow at him. “Remus, I know it's not exactly...er, proper to do such a thing, but, Remus, you want me. I can practically smell it. We're both consenting adults, I haven't been in school for ages, where is the wrong?”

“There is still the fact that I am classified as a Dark Creature, Harry. I am a werewolf,” he said firmly, and Harry blinked bemusedly, the sheer gravity of the situation clearly flying right over his head.

“So?” he asked, “I don't care if you're a werewolf or a garden gnome. You're still Remus, you're still a good man.”

Remus reached out and carded his fingers through Harry's hair as he thought of how to best answer the question. Harry's eyelids fluttered at the sensation, and he let out a soft sigh of contentment. Remus leant in to taste him, and Harry reciprocated enthusiastically, though sagged with disappointment when Remus pulled back much sooner than Harry would have liked.

“It matters because werewolves are possessive by nature,” Remus murmured softly, and he tightened his hold on Harry. Already he felt disinclined to let him go. “If we were to go forward with this...this...thing, you may be forced to halt your performances...I don't like the idea of sharing you.”

“Then don't share me,” Harry murmured, apparently unconcerned with the implication of himself as some sort of object. “Come to the club this weekend, after you've recovered from the moon; we'll leave Teddy with Andromeda or Molly. We can do something where you won't be recognized, if you want, and Blaise can teach you how to...handle me.”

The offer was sorely tempting, and incredibly appealing to his wolf. To claim a mate, and not just a mate but a proper sub—it made him ache with longing. His human conscience screamed at him, and in between the two warring instincts, he found that he had absolutely no idea what to say.

Apparently sensing his uncertainty, Harry arched up and brushed Remus's lips with his own in a soft ghost of a kiss.

“Think about it,” Harry whispered against his mouth, and gazed back up into Remus's eyes. “To bow to you as my dominant would be a pleasure...sir.”

Harry stepped back, and without another word, he stalked out of the room, just as Remus heard Teddy begin to stir.
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Aftercare