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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
- 26
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Chapter 27: Well Met by Moonlight

The ingredients for the Wolfsbane Potion arrived by owl in the morning and Snape sent his acknowledging note to Dumbledore with the returning owl. He checked it all and placed it in the cellar and then made breakfast for them both.

As they ate, Lupin noted Snape's pensive mood. He didn't want to go to his house and his reluctance was evident.

"Will it help if I come with you?" Lupin asked gently.

"Nothing helps, except I'll be coming back to you as soon as I can. I don't want you in that place. It is a place of unhappiness and you should always be separate from it," Snape said dully. Lupin rested his hand on Snape's shoulder and squeezed gently but Snape's mood did not lift.

Snape Apparated to a mews a few roads away from his house. His heart sank as soon as he took in the grime and dereliction around him. He hated this place with a passion. He kept it as a base purely for the summer. He didn't consider it his home – Hogwarts was his home. Spinner's End was a place he waited for summer to end; a place where he stored his beloved books that didn't fit in his dungeon quarters; a place to stow his ghosts of his unhappy childhood. It wasn't home. Even when he was young, his heart didn't reside here. It resided with the Evanses in the more salubrious part of town, with their pretty flower garden in the front, Mrs. Evans's pride and joy, and their vegetable garden in the back, the domain of Mr. Evans. A neat house, although never tidy, but always clean and warm and ... lived in.

Unlike this, he thought, reaching the front door of the tiny terraced house, typical of the industrial North of England. It was a grey and sombre house, shabby and unwelcoming. He'd sell it, but it had little value. He inhaled deeply and let himself in to a musty and haunted world of memories of violence and indifference.

He was back within three hours, pockets of his robe bulging with shrunken packages of clothes, toiletries, books and equipment. He strode straight into the kitchen where Lupin was preparing lunch and kissed him hungrily. It may only have been three hours, but to Snape it was like travelling between hell and heaven. Lupin responded with vigour, almost bending Snape backwards.

"Food first," he breathed, circling his thumb on Snape's bite, which calmed him even through his cravat he'd insisted on wearing as he was travelling.

Snape nodded, holding Lupin's hand as if it were a talisman. "I should start your Potion after lunch anyway," he said, almost apologetically. "Then we'll be free while it has its first stage brewing."

Snape had set up all of his equipment on one of the work benches in the cellar and affixed a clock and his Potion-spattered wall charts he'd brought with him and was double checking the ingredients Dumbledore sent against his own well-thumbed brewing diary. It looked for all the world as if this was Snape's home and he had always brewed in this cellar.

Lupin was sitting on a stool at the empty and scrubbed work bench next to it, watching Snape with avid interest as Snape started to prepare the ingredients – chopping, shredding, mashing, skinning, measuring – all with the consummate ease of the master that he was, and the intense concentration that marked the man. Soon, all ingredients were ready and lined up in order of addition.

Lupin moved closer, not taking his eyes away from Snape as he worked fastidiously checking his equipment again. Lupin stroked the side of Snape's face and then tucked Snape's hair behind his ear.

"You're extraordinary, you know," he murmured seductively.

"Nonsense." Snape waved a slim hand dismissively, still checking the integrity of some of the phials and beakers. "I can't be interrupted once I start, Remus. This Potion could easily spoil if my timings aren't exact. I'll have an aperture for you in ..." he checked the clock above him, "two hour and fifteen minutes."

Lupin brushed a hand over one of Snape's buttocks and left his hand there, his fingers poised over the cleavage between Snape's buttocks, and then he stroked his hand under the band of Snape's trousers and started to stroke there softly. "An aperture ..." Lupin murmured meaningfully. "Can I have that aperture now instead?" He clasped his free hand to Snape's hip, standing against him.

Snape screwed his eyes shut, sighing heavily as his groin flared up. He just could not resist this man's touch but he wasn't feeling loving. He needed something different to that today. He placed the beakers down and pushed himself back into Lupin's waiting hands which grasped and stroked him greedily. He sidled to the empty bench and braced his hands on it.

"Take me like this, Remus," he said firmly, bending forwards over the bench. "I need it like this."

Lupin didn't object, although Snape knew this wasn't to his taste. Perhaps he understood why Snape needed this now.

Lupin released the cord of Snape's trousers and pulled them down and Snape stepped one foot out so his ankles were free. Then Lupin then stepped out of his own and pulled off his own shirt, then Snape's. He rubbed Snape's backside, and clutched at it in desire and then started working Snape's opening with his fingers. Snape found he was very ready. His desire was raw and primal and pulled painfully on his groin in urgency.

Lupin thrust in without further preparation or tenderness, groaning at Snape's hotness and Snape pushed back hard, leaned further forward, pushing his arse higher, and spread his legs for Lupin to go deep. Lupin responded, driving into him hard and deep, making him cry out lustfully, as Lupin grunted ferally.

"Fuck me, Remus. Fuck me hard. Please. I need it this way," he growled through gritted teeth, pushing back hard on Lupin's cock. His groin burned for it. His body yearned for it. Lupin set a punishing pace as he pushed Snape's body fully to the bench with an outstretched arm, and Snape snarled, "Yes, harder!"

Lupin fucked him punishingly and noisily, exactly as Snape wanted, bruising his hips and thighs against the bench as Lupin bucked and snapped unforgivingly into him, keeping up the pace far longer than Snape could believe, but he took it all greedily. It cleansed him. It purged him. It drove out all thoughts of Spinner's End – the stench, the sound, the sights, the memories, the anger. All he wanted was the white searing heat of Lupin fucking him sending waves of purging rapture over him. It was all he felt as he came with a guttural roar followed quickly by Lupin's own hard, pulsing orgasm and cries.

Lupin slumped onto Snape's body, both sweating and breathing hard. As he recovered, he pulled Snape back with him and he sat on the stool, still inside Snape, now perched on his lap, his legs apart, resting his hands on Lupin's thighs to steady himself. Lupin put his arms around Snape's waist and kissed his shoulder joint as he slid from Snape.

Dear Remus, who cannot bear the thought of being harsh and unloving and has to make up for it even now. He smiled fondly as Lupin feathered Snape's shoulder with kisses and caressed his stomach, even though it was covered in Snape's own sperm. Lupin looked at Snape and smiled back and they kissed. It had been cathartic for Snape. He knew Lupin didn't fully understand, but at least now he knew it didn't mean Snape didn't love him, just that occasionally, he needed something other to help him cope with his pent up rage, and to have it from Lupin made Snape love him even more.

With the Wolfsbane Potion well on the way, and Lupin's sex fest under control (which had lasted longer than the threatened week), it was time for them to re-stock the larder. Lupin Apparated with Snape to the town of Welshpool, which had a small wizarding community, separate from that of the Muggles. As they strode down the wizarding High Street, Lupin took hold of Snape's hand, startling him with such public show of affection.

They stood for a while, Snape, stiff and formal, looking at their joined hands, Lupin, relaxed and nonchalant, looking at Snape. Snape looked up slowly to Lupin to say something. Lupin smiled at him and shook his head.

"Not negotiable, Severus," he said firmly, held his hand more tightly and moved off. There was an unknown fluttering in Snape's stomach. He thought it might be pride. Proud to be seen with this handsome man who wanted the world to know he was his. He didn't think he could do this in Diagon Alley or in Hogsmeade, but they weren't known here, and it was all about small steps, wasn't it?

It was the day of the full moon at last. Snape had bathed with Lupin, taking care of him exactly how he had before. He didn't think of that fateful full moon. They were far beyond that now. He was so completely immersed in Lupin now and Lupin was in him. These were his days to care for Lupin. They made love in the morning, Snape taking Lupin gently, caring for him in a different way. Lupin didn't eat much on this day. They took a short stroll for fresh air then read together companionably. The day rolled away from them.

It would be moonrise shortly and Snape still hadn't left the farmhouse. He felt an odd tugging at his gut, and every time he thought of leaving to Apparate, he felt quite nauseous. Lupin had prepared, and was undressed in a chair, looking very weary. Snape could see he was already in pain with the moon drawing on his body. He went to him and perched on the arm of his chair, placing his arms around him gently and Lupin laid his head on Snape's lap.

"I don't want to leave you," Snape said suddenly. "In fact, I don't think I can." His stomach flipped with worry, but instinct told him he needed to be with his mate. Rationally, he told himself, he had brewed the Wolfsbane, he knew the quality of his brew. It would be safe. But, deep down, he knew, he would stay even without Wolfsbane. He knew it in his blood.

"Thank the gods," Lupin said weakly. "I wanted to beg you to stay, but I didn't want you to be afraid. You are my mate: I need to be with you. I didn't realise how strong the pull would be." Lupin hugged Snape's thighs on which he rested his aching head.

Snape carded his fingers through Lupin's hair and they waited together

The moon rose, Snape's stomach started to churn and in that instant, Lupin became rigid. Snape moved away, slowly and calmly, although he did not feel calm. Lupin's limbs began to shake and the sitting room was filled with the horrifying sound of bones, large and small, breaking and tissue tearing and Lupin's voice rising from moans of pain to screams of agony. His form began to shift and undulate, all parts of him re-shaping and re-forming and hair sprouting and covering the whole of him as he transformed and the scream altered in his altered throat to a howl. Snape watched, horrified at the sights and sounds of it.

The howling slowly decreased and became whimpering and panting, as the form now settled into the wolf. Snape still held his breath. Merlin, if I haven't brewed it right, it will all be over soon, he thought wildly.

There the wolf stood tall. Tawny and grey, a handsome alpha wolf with his high tail. He was as beautiful a wolf as he was a man. Snape stared in admiration at the animal. He knew Remus Lupin had his mind: the wolf's eyes were not red. They had the lambent gold of a wolf, but were soft and intelligent, like Lupin.

Snape squatted on his haunches, his elbows on his thighs and held both hands out. The wolf padded over to him and nuzzled and licked the open hands.

"Remus," Snape smiled as he ruffled the wolf's magnificent crest and breathed in his fur. The wolf panted and barked excitedly, and nuzzled his hands again and then licked Snape's face. It made Snape laugh heartily, a sound quite alien to him. "Bad wolf," he laughed, pulling the wolf's crest to pull him off, but the wolf was too strong for him and pushed him over, licking his face and wagging his tail madly. Snape almost howled with laughter at the wolf's antics, its tongue and hot breath tickled. He had never expected that the wolf would want to play.

The wolf darted off and scampered across the room, barking, and then came charging back to bark at Snape, and then charged back and forth again. "What? You want to play chase, you lunatic, Remus? In here?" Snape laughed.

The wolf padded to the front door and pawed it and turned to look expectantly at Snape, panting.

"Well, you're not dangerous," Snape said as he approached the door. "Do you want to run?" The wolf barked. "Merlin, I'll bet you do." He scratched the wolf's neck. "Remus, I'll bet if you run as a wolf now, it'll blow your mind. Just imagine feeling your wolf's power with your human mind." He stared at the wolf. "I envy you." He knelt and wrapped his arms around the wolf's ruff and nuzzled the wolf's neck. Then he opened the door for the wolf to run.

The wolf stood tense on the threshold, alert and scenting the air, whilst Snape marvelled at Lupin's beauty and the palpable power of the wolf. The wolf turned to Snape and barked again, one ear cocked and made a starting motion and then stopped and looked at Snape again and barked.

"I'm no bloody animagus, Remus. I can't run with you." He ruffled the wolf's fur. "Though by Merlin and Nimue, I wish I could," he said quietly. "You can't possibly want a stroll with me." He ruffled the wolf again affectionately, utterly besotted with the beauty of the wolf.

The wolf shuffled backwards over the threshold and darted to the door for the cellar and barked.

"You can't want to go in there."

The wolf pawed the handle and looked at Snape with a bark and a small whine, then Snape opened the door and the wolf went in and turned to the corner of the landing in front of the stairs that led downwards. He scratched at the wall there and looked at Snape again with a small whine. Snape looked. The wolf was pawing a broomstick. Snape took hold of it and the wolf barked and kicked his hind legs out to scamper to the front door, waiting and panting, its upright tail wagging furiously.

"You want me to fly?" The wolf barked excitedly. Snape chuckled and scratched the wolf's head again. "Why not? Why not indeed?" Snape muttered and smiled at Remus.

He put his boots on and a jacket against the night air, the wolf pacing by the front door's threshold in his impatience.

Snape took the broom and lifted off gently and flew a little ahead. The wolf barked and leapt about like a cub, then he started to run. He ran hard and Snape followed low on the broom. The wolf took off through the field and Snape came after, laughing more freely than he could ever remember at the excitement of the wolf unleashed. Merlin's beard, Remus was fast!

The wolf ran up the scree slopes, sure footed and agile as Snape passed over him and then lowered himself over his broom so he was eye to eye with the wolf as they both flew upwards. The wolf barked as if in joy.

Severus Snape was running with the wolf and it was the most exhilarating thing he had ever felt. The night air of the mountains seared his lungs and his heart pumped hard in his excitement. As they scaled the mountain, Snape whooped and rolled his broom.

They reached the summit and the wolf mounted the stone as Snape hovered next to him. The wolf howled to the moon, not the mournful, forlorn sound Snape associated with wolves, but a cry of triumph, a crow of satisfaction, an ejaculation of joy and freedom. It made Snape's heart soar as he wondered what Lupin must be feeling now. No blood lust, his own mind in a powerful, primal body in which to run like the wind itself. What that must feel like! Imagine the power! Snape thought in wonder. It was as free as Remus Lupin had ever been and it choked Snape that he could be part of it.

The wolf howled again, and Snape whooped and turned the broom over and the wolf danced to catch him. They played this game at the summit until the wolf tired of it, and suddenly tore down the mountain at a terrific pace and Snape banked his broom and followed, the wind whipping his hair as he leaned low keeping pace with the ecstatic wolf's speed.

The wolf reached the lake's edge and danced and barked at Snape, then plunged into the water.

"Forget it, lunatic!" Snape laughed. "You're on your own for a moonlight swim. You've got a fur coat – I'll freeze." He hovered over the wolf, watching it paddle around. He couldn't remember how many years it had been since he had flown for the sheer pleasure of flying.

Another memory of Lily surfaced from his long ago. They'd both learned to fly together at Hogwarts. Their Houses took flying lessons together, as now. He'd had a hard time from Potter and Black even then. He wasn't a natural on a broom and certainly hadn't had the type of practice that they had both had at their much-vaunted ancestral homes, with their expensive brooms that they boasted of, but weren't allowed to bring to school. No matter their advantages, they ragged on him mercilessly. So Lily and he had practised by themselves after classes with Rolanda's supervision. They became good fliers, although neither of them was good enough for Quidditch, but they enjoyed flying for flying's sake. They flew together often, sometimes just together on the one broomstick. Snape had loved those times the most, when Lily would sit on the broom behind him, with her hands around his waist, her laugh tinkling in the air. Happy times. Yes, he did have some happy times. Sometimes, he forgot.

He was still hovering protectively over the wolf, who had now made it to the other side of the lake. The wolf scrambled out as Snape lowered his broom. The wolf shook himself of excess water and danced at Snape and they played chase again, the wolf yipping like an over-excited cub. Snape suspected when Lupin was a werewolf cub, he'd had no such pleasures as this.

The wolf tore off again, and Snape saw he was homeward bound. The wolf barked and kicked his hind legs in excitement and ran whilst Snape sped from side to side over and alongside him. The wolf slowed its pace as the farmhouse came into view and trotted along looking at Snape. Snape thought he understood, and dismounted from his broom and walked alongside the wolf, his free hand immersed in the wolf's magnificent crest as they walked together.

Dawn was approaching. Mountain song birds began their chorus and Snape's senses were alive to it all. He crouched before the wolf and hugged it and they crossed the threshold. The wolf padded over to a corner of the sitting room, but Snape grabbed its scruff.

"No, Remus. You transform in comfort from now on," he said firmly and led the wolf to the bedroom. He spread out a blanket over the bedclothes, and patted the bed and the wolf jumped up and turned in circles in the centre and then settled down. Snape sat on the bedroom stool and waited as the air became palpably tense. And as he waited, his stomach started to churn violently exactly at the same moment as the wolf began to whimper. The whimper became a forlorn whine as the wolf stood rigid and started to tremble violently. The whine rose and became louder until it was a howl. Snape heard the cracking of all of the animal's bones simultaneously and the tearing of its tissues and watched in renewed horror how the animal's form undulated, stretched and wrought itself a new form, the howling turning to guttural screaming as the man's form emerged. Snape moved swiftly to the bed to catch Lupin when he returned. When Lupin's form finally set, the screaming gradually eased, replaced keening then by the hitching of breath and whimpering of residual pain and Snape caught Lupin as he fell forward, gasping for air and slumped over Snape.

Snape laid him back and checked every part of Lupin for injury, using his eyes and hands, and then double checking with his wand. Lupin still whimpered and Snape hushed him gently as one would a babe. He wrapped Lupin in the blanket and Levitated him into the bed itself.

He stood with one hand in his own hair, scratching his head. Could it be? He found no trace of a single injury. Not even so much as a bruise or graze. Just exhaustion from the transformation. He was sure it was because Lupin had run in the moonlight. He thanked the magic of this place with all his heart, as he undressed and laid himself next to Lupin to watch over his sleep.
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You Will Not Kiss Me