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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
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter 5: Warnings Not Heeded

Snape awoke to find that Lupin had left sometime during the night. Then he remembered Lupin's dramatic warning about today. He had been convinced the Thrall would demand they spend this day together when the moon waxed full. He had wanted to; had in fact looked forward to it with keen anticipation. He found he was bitterly disappointed. But, there was no doubting the sincerity of the warning. He should heed it.

Today was Christmas Eve. The festival meant little to him but Snape would be expected to attend all the meals in the Great Hall since there were always a few students in attendance. He was behind in his marking and lesson plans, as well as academic research. He resolved not to work on any aspects of the Thrall today. He was fully aware it was a powerful enchantment that had hold of him, but he was certain he should be able to keep his mind off Lupin for a day, even if it was this day.

He showered, robed and went for breakfast. The Headmaster requested he sit next to him and enquired after his current research project. Snape recalled Lupin's cover story, and told Dumbledore some bone dry detail of his latest potion project. Never to be underestimated, Dumbledore suggested a few novel adaptations to part of the potion which rather startled Snape, who then became rather more engaged in the conversation.

On returning to his quarters, he set out his quill and red ink and started on the first year assignments. They were dreadful. Why did he expect anything different? They were always dreadful. The only point of them, as far as Snape was concerned, was to be an outlet for some venting on his part, but he got bored very quickly and found his mind wandering - wandering to the werewolf, wondering if it would be as bad as Lupin had said. Or would it be exciting and demanding. He found he had been very excited by Lupin when he had been demanding with him. Perhaps, Lupin was being over-protective because of his revelations yesterday. Any way he cut it, he couldn't stop being intrigued. He shook his head to clear it. It took all his control to keep dragging his attention back to the job in hand.

Finally, after a couple of hours, they were done. One job put aside, he took another: the seventh year NEWT essays. That was sure to offer something more interesting (albeit not challenging). He slogged his way through these, still struggling to keep his mind to the task. He had always been a man of iron self-control; he found himself maddened by these lapses in it, even though he understood there was no fault with his control itself.

Well, he had filled four hours as meaningfully as possible. The second duty of the day now needed to be done, and he took himself off for lunch.

He had eaten far too much. It was unsurprising considering how very little he had eaten over the past few days. Research, dark memories and extraordinary sex – now there was a combination to distract a man from food, Snape thought as he made his way back to his quarters. He would have time for a short nap and then to shower and change. He had promised Minerva a game of chess before dinner. They were both excellent chess players: playing Minerva was always challenging. That would be a good way to divert his attention.

He was feeling full and sluggish and quite sleepy. He sent a house-elf to Lupin with the Wolfsbane slightly earlier than usual. Then he went to bed. Just an hour, he thought, to sleep off lunch. As he lay in bed, drifting off to sleep, he let his mind wander to the last couple of nights: the gentleness of last night, the passion of the nights before. As he recollected more detail, he found himself closing his eyes to play out in his mind's eye detailed recollections of passion and of carnality. It was warm and comforting.

Suddenly, Snape found himself waking with a start, his stomach gnawing with painful desire, from a swirling dream of sex with the werewolf. Not with Lupin, but with the werewolf Lupin described yesterday. The dream had been carnal and brutish, he couldn't now quite recollect any details – they had dissipated like smoke, but he was fully aroused and his mind was fuzzy with desire. He'd slept longer than he meant to and he rushed to the shower.

He luxuriated in the heat of the water while he cleansed himself when suddenly he was pushed hard and flat against the tiled wall. He felt the hot breath of the werewolf against his neck from behind him, his hands holding Snape's shoulders against the wall, trapping Snape's arms under his own body, pressing his body against Snape's own, hard and uncomfortably as the shower continued to rain down on both of them.

"Well, well, Severus. It seems you just can't listen, even when your playmate begs you," the werewolf snarled, his voice deeper and harsher than Lupin's; his breath sour. "Do you hate him still? I think you do. I think you must do or you wouldn't ignore his pathetic begging. I think I should give you something to truly hate him for."

The werewolf spun Snape around fast and with unerring speed and accuracy caught Snape's wrists to immobilise them in one strong, large hand above Snape's head. His other hand grasped Snape's face hard and bent in and bit Snape's bottom lip. "How upset he'll be," he breathed into Snape's mouth.

Not Lupin, Snape thought. The werewolf, trying to stop his mind screaming in panic as his heart pumped violently.

Nothing about this man's smell, bearing or look was Lupin. The creature reeked of heavy musk. This werewolf had a harsh cast to his features; his mouth was cruel and sneering, and his eyes were hard and ... not blue. Snape's breath hitched slightly. The werewolf's eyes were almost orange. Snape closed his eyes briefly, edging close again to total panic. Tonight they will be red.

"I don't have much time before moonrise to play with you Severus," the werewolf taunted, his free hand pinching Snape's skin hard. "I wish you had Called earlier so I could have had longer to savour your fear. It's rather pungent. Tastier than your desire though. I watched you while you slept." The werewolf was drawing his nails of his free hand up and down the length of Snape's torso hard enough to break the surface of his skin. "I think you need to learn some lessons. Your playmate may be considering letting you take him, but I won't allow it."

He bit hard on Snape's neck, making Snape hiss with pain. "You need to be reminded of your place in my pack," the werewolf snapped. With that, he freed Snape's hands at the same moment as his free hand punched Snape hard in the ribcage so he bent over double, winded, and sure something had cracked, and fell to his hands and knees on the floor of the bathroom, trying to get his breath.

The werewolf was on him in a second and pushed him flat to the floor. Snape lifted his head to catch his breath, but the werewolf snatched his hair hard and cracked his face against the floor. He felt his nose break and tasted the blood running into his mouth as he turned his head to try to breath. The werewolf had Snape pinned by his greater body weight, one arm pressing down on Snape's back, and the other had holding Snape's hip as his fingers dug in cruelly to his flesh. He plunged straight into Snape and started pumping him.

There was searing pain, but Snape did not cry out. He had been here before. He knew he mustn't fight because it would hurt more if he did. The werewolf's fingers and nails pinched and grabbed him cruelly whilst he slammed relentlessly into Snape, his sweat dripping onto him, growling and swearing as he did so. The pain was becoming so great and radiating outwards that Snape thought he must soon pass out. He felt the salt of his own helpless tears fall onto his damaged face and sting. And then, to humiliate Snape further, in a sick parody of their first coupling, the werewolf had grabbed Snape's hair to pull it away and he was biting his exposed neck, back and shoulders. Not gentle bites, but bites that drew blood and broke and tore his flesh.

In a small, Occluded part of Snape's mind, he hoped this would signify that the creature was nearly spent. With that thought, the werewolf lunged harder and swore at Snape as he came and then let his full weight fall on Snape, hurting that broken rib more, as he calmed his breathing for what seemed like hours, but in reality was minutes. He released Snape's hair, pulled himself out and pushed himself up so he was straddling Snape. Snape didn't move although he was still struggling to control his breathing. He knew better.

The werewolf leaned forward and let his hands slide up Snape's back until they reached Snape's throat, where they rested and tightened slightly. The shower was still beating down on both of them. "Never forget who you belong to, Severus. Never forget your place," and he let out a sharp laugh like a bark, got up into a crouch and slapped Snape's rump hard as if he were an animal being released.

Whether it was the slap or the reference to knowing his place, Snape wasn't sure, but he suddenly felt a pulse of such pure and enormous rage and the werewolf was flung away from him in a burst of white light, and slammed into the wall with such force that it winded the beast, who keeled forward. It gave Snape enough time to dive to his pile of clothes and retrieve his wand. The werewolf did not have his. Snape's senses were suddenly sharpened as he realised he had the upper hand. He noticed some of the werewolf's clothes in a trail to the bathroom. His wand would be there somewhere.

"Get out, werewolf," Snape spat, crouching low, his wand trained at the werewolf's chest. "Get out before I kill you."

The werewolf got to his feet, rubbing his wrist that had been trapped behind its own body, and picked up his clothes, dressing as he went, Snape following, blood still dripping from his nose, uncaring that he was naked and wet. As the werewolf put on his outer robe, he made to put his hand inside it for his wand.

"Do it, and I will curse that hand off!" Snape hissed, sending a burning hex to that hand. The werewolf, still calm, still sneering, moved his reddened hand away and smirked impudently at Snape, looking at him up and down. "You're a nice tight screw, you know," he leered and then left.

Before doing anything else, Snape immediately strengthened the wards to his quarters, cursing himself for not having thought of it sooner. His privacy wards had accommodated themselves somehow to the Thrall and permitted Lupin entrance at all times. He hadn't questioned that before, so enthralled had he been, but he should have, dammit, he should have. That beast had watched him whilst he slept, just like Lupin had. But not like Lupin ... not at all.

He began to tremble slightly as his adrenaline settled and he went back to the bathroom, clearing the trail of blood he had left, not just from his nose, he noted forlornly.

He looked in the mirror. Well he'd seen that mess to his nose plenty of times before, and his eyes would blacken soon. He was reluctant to try to heal his nose if his eyes were affected. He'd have to see Poppy for that. He pressed his rib – yes, there was a crack there. Plenty of bruising would follow. He looked at the bites. He had salve for those and they would be hidden by his high collar and cravat. He would only see Poppy for his nose.

He went back into the shower to wash away the blood, surprised at how calm he was. But why shouldn't he be? He knew this situation well. Any memories that had not been securely locked away yesterday flooded in on him now as the water pattered away on his head.

The Lestranges had been the worst, by far the most violent: older brother enjoying leading younger brother on to more violent and depraved acts with the helpless young Slytherins. Snape understood the werewolf better than Lupin realised. Snape understood the nature of the beast within when it knew you were powerless. He had encountered it in so many men. He probably understood this better than he understood Lupin's natural affection and passion. He understood the biting too. It marked the submissive; it ensured the weak one did not seek medical help because of the carnal nature of the bite. Yes, he knew all about this. How many times had he had to weigh up which injury needed the attentions of a healer, and which he would learn to attend to himself?

He turned off the shower and dried himself gingerly. He applied balms and salves to the bites, scratches and bruises, he took a healing potion for his internal injuries and then spoke the incantations to fix his rib which did so in a warm glow.

He started feeling anger in the pit of his stomach; churning and rising. Lupin warned him dammit. He should have taken Dreamless Sleep if he wanted to sleep – he knew he dreamt of nothing but Lupin. He should have kept himself safe. Did he bring that on himself? Had he wanted that to happen – so reminiscent of how his sex life used to be? The werewolf was every bit as foul as Lupin warned him.

And now ... now he would hate Lupin.

And he didn't want to.

He felt his breath draw in mightily as if it would suffocate him, and he wept.

Dealing with Poppy had been easy. He told her he had slipped in the shower and cracked his nose on the nearby sink. She'd reset his nose quickly and almost painlessly, with a snort, and given him special balm so his eyes would not become blackened. He had got to her in time.

"I've lost count of how many times your nose has been broken, Severus," she said, shaking her head.

"So have I, Poppy," Snape said, with a tight smile. Snape always wondered how much Poppy knew about her charges. He knew she was shrewd. He also knew that she turned a blind eye to many things. However, he never thought it was due to negligence or callousness. He thought it was so children would always seek her help, knowing their secrets would be safe. He turned over her last sentence to him – not "how many times you've broken your nose" but "your nose has been broken" – it spoke volumes to him.

He then went to Minerva's quarters and was greeted by "Good grief, Severus, what have you done to yourself?" The swelling and bruising hadn't quite left his face although it was healing quickly and Minerva pulled him inside and pressed a glass of 30 year old Scottish single malt on him before sitting him down.

"Nothing really Minerva ... silly accident ... embarrassing really ... please don't make a fuss," Snape muttered. She pressed him for an explanation and repeated his story and then demanded she stop wittering and produce the chess board as he opened up his own Wizard's chess pieces.

By the time he had defeated Minerva (very deftly, if he said so himself), darkness had come and he noted that his mind had cleared to pinpoint accuracy. He also knew the bruising and swelling on his face had subsided and he could go to the Great Hall without embarrassment for dinner with Minerva.

As he slipped into bed, he turned over the events of the day in his mind. He didn't have to worry about the werewolf now. Dumbledore himself had finely tuned the wards on Lupin's quarters so that they would not open until the wolf was in human form again.

As he had noted earlier, his mind was feeling exceptionally clear and incisive. Soon the moon would wane, and he hoped he would feel stronger again.

He was also truly embarrassed because he realised that this afternoon he had behaved like the victim he had always been when he was young in making excuses for his injuries and he found that shaming. But what could he do? Go to Dumbledore? What would happen to Lupin if he did? They hadn't really begun to work out how to approach the Thrall yet.

He also recalled he'd seen Lupin on the day of the full moon before the Thrall and he had not behaved like he did today – as if another person inhabited his body. Lupin had said he worried about the effect of the Thrall on the wolf. Had he suspected the extent of this disassociation with himself?

Something else the werewolf said occurred to him. Your playmate may be considering letting you take him, but I won't allow it. Last night, he had believed that Lupin was offering himself to him. He had let Snape straddle him and Snape had wanted to take Lupin very badly indeed but something had stopped him.

He knew that partly it was because he knew Lupin was suffering with the moon and Snape didn't want to hurt him. He also knew his own memories were too near the surface and he wanted to take Lupin when those memories were locked away so he could enjoy him unsullied.

But he also knew, knew it with certainty at that time but that was now confirmed, that what Lupin was offering had not been offered to any man before because Lupin was a dominant wolf and his wolf wouldn't allow it. Snape was certain of it. He began to be certain that it was this knowledge that had disassociated the werewolf from the man. Lupin knew on some level that what he had offered to Snape would enrage that cursed part of him and he had tried to warn Snape.

Snape had been foolish to toy with the wolf. It would not happen again.

Snape didn't know if the Thrall was responsible for Lupin offering that gift to him or if something else was developing between them because of the nature of the confidences exchanged as well as their passionate intercourse enabled by the Thrall.

What he did know was that now the wolf wanted to break Snape. Snape wanted to break the wolf. Each wanted possession of the man, Remus Lupin.
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You Will Not Kiss Me