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The Truth Will Out	By : BunnyBopper Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Remus Views: 5652 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
The fact that Remus' biggest fear was the full moon only made sense. For the average wizard, it was, of course, irrational. Leftover superstition from a time when their oppression did not allow them the same control over their magic as they had now. But for Remus, its approach meant real danger, not only for himself but everyone around him. He supposed he should be used to it by now, but each time he was terrified. Of what he would inevitably become, of the irreversible harm he could inflict on himself, of the very real possibility he could kill someone, or worse, force them to suffer the same fate.
But the thing that scared him the most was that other feeling the moon evoked in him. That one he tried to bury deep inside but would only grow stronger with each passing phase. The feeling he could only describe as craving.
Severus had begun to evoke that very same feeling in him. The same dark pull. The same desire to abandon everything calm, rational, and reasoned. To surrender himself completely.
Perhaps the fact that their encounters had been tied so closely to the moon was the reason none of it felt real when it was over. Much like his time spent as a wolf, Remus could recall every touch, every whispered word, in perfect detail, but still, it felt as though the memories belonged to someone else.
After yet another miserable transformation, Remus was convinced the dangerous game the two of them had been playing was over. Severus had now taken to ignoring him completely, and Remus had not yet worked up the courage to approach him first. What would he even have said? Anyway, it wasn't like he expected Severus Snape to sit down and have a heart to heart with him about his feelings. The man seemed to take immense pleasure in being an enigma.
As the days passed by, Remus made every effort to convince himself it was for the best. They had both been risking what was left of their reputations - not to mention their careers - by having any kind of physical relationship with one another, let alone one so...unconventional. He decided that he would bury this strange yearning deep down where it belonged, with all the other parts of himself he didn't care to look at too closely. He knew from experience that the ache it left behind would disappear eventually.
Then Christmas happened.
As much as Remus detested the sympathetic looks and barrage of questions it elicited from people, he wasn't above using his condition to get out of situations he really didn't want to be in. Sitting with Severus at the staff table every mealtime hadn't exactly done much for his appetite, but the thought of an intimate Christmas dinner with him and the few remaining students and teachers was positively nauseating. So he'd done what he did best and declined the Headmaster's kind offer claiming the lingering aftereffects of the not-so-recent full moon. But still, he couldn't resist heading down to the Great Hall early, just to take in the atmosphere of a Hogwarts' Christmas day, if only for a few solitary minutes.
Remus didn't know quite what possessed him to do it. Once he had seen the plump, sliver cracker perched festively at the head of the table, the thought simply overtook him. It didn't take much to transfigure whatever tacky prize lay inside it - just a quick flick of his wand, a muttered spell, and it was done. Creeping out of the Hall, part of Remus wished he were staying for dinner. Just to see what kind of look Severus would give him once a vulture-topped hat fell onto the table.

***

By the next afternoon, Remus is increasingly confident that his little prank has had the desired effect. He trusts Severus to know the meaning behind it: that however reckless this game was, Remus still wanted it to continue. The fact that Severus hadn't burst into Remus quarters last night and hexed the living daylights out of him was a good sign anyway.
Unable to tolerate the anticipation, Remus takes himself out for a Boxing Day walk as a form of distraction. It was one of those rare days where the castle and grounds were hidden under a thick blanket of snow. Remus enjoys the quiet that came with it, how the world seems softer, more forgiving.
He ends up spending longer out in it than intended. Even stopping to chat with Hagrid, who's busy worrying what the cold weather will do to his Screwts. (Although this concern appears unfounded as the horrifying things have already melted everything in sight.)
Remus almost expects Severus to be waiting for him when he finally trudges back to the castle, but, of course, he isn't. Once inside, Remus makes a beeline for the staff room, intent on warming himself up with a mug of hot chocolate. Again, he's disappointed to find the room empty. Trying his best not to be disheartened, he busies himself making his drink.
Mug in hand, Remus walks instinctively over to the worn little armchair he had claimed as his own. He stops in his tracks when he sees that there is something on it: a small box wrapped in green and silver paper, all tied up in an elegant black bow. Feeling a now-familiar thrill flow through him, Remus rushes to examine it, nearly spilling hot chocolate all over himself in the process. Sure enough, the tiny label has 'Remus' scratched on it in Severus' spidery hand. He tears it open without thinking and...
"Surely he can't be serious..." Remus says aloud.
"Who can't be serious?"
Remus whips around to see Minerva, whose tight bun and pursed lips aren't taking a break for the holidays, walking into the room.
"Oh, nothing! It's nothing!" replies Remus, laughing too loudly as he shoves the lid back onto the box and wraps the torn paper tightly back around it for good measure. "Severus just left me a joke present, that's all."
"Severus?" she asked, eyebrows shooting up to her hairline. "I've never known him to give gifts, let alone make jokes...not unless they are at the expense of the Gryffindor Quidditch team."
"First time for everything, I suppose!"
"What is it?" she asked, an accusatory tone creeping into her voice.
"It's...ah...private joke. Take too long to explain. Besides, I really must be going. Lots of work to do." Remus is half-way out of the room before he's finished his sentence.
"Work? On Boxing Day?" she asks, eyeing him sternly from behind her spectacles.
"I'm afraid I've got a lot to catch up on. It's been a particularly bad month..."
Minerva's expression – along with her tone – softens instantly. "Of course. Do let me know if there's anything I can do."
Remus shoots her a meek smile before hurrying out the door. He feels a little guilty about playing the werewolf card again but needs must and all that.

***

The moment he's safely back in his quarters, he carefully places the box down on the nearest table. Slowly, he lifts the lid, hoping he was somehow wrong about what was inside. But no, it was what he thought it was: a pair of women's underwear.
And a note.
I suspect witch's clothing will suit you far better than it did me.
Remus groans as he removes his gift from the box. He examines them gingerly, holding them out at a distance between thumb and forefinger. They are of good quality. Black. Impractically flimsy. So flimsy, in fact, they wouldn't leave much for the imagination to fill in. He drops them back in the box before examining the note again, flipping it over to reveal further instruction.
Ten o'clock. My quarters.

***

Remus wonders just how his little stunt was able to backfire so spectacularly. The corridors are mercifully quiet as he makes his way down to the dungeons, and thank merlin, he doesn't run into anyone. Though it's so dark down here, he doubts anyone would notice his red face or the slightly awkward way he's walking. Gods, but these things were tight. Remus suspected they would be too small as soon as he'd looked at them.
And he'd spent a long time looking at them. Who knew how many times he brought them out of their little box before wrapping them back up in the crinkly tissue paper they came in? He even went as far as throwing the whole thing in the bin once. It was only a fraction of a second before he was fishing them back out again.
Finally, he'd put them on. Just to see if he could actually go through with this. Standing naked in his room with his heart pounding, he'd stepped one foot in, then the other. The unfamiliar lace dragged across his skin as he pulled the knickers up. He was half-way hard before they were over his hips.
When he'd looked at himself in his full-length mirror, he'd been surprised to find that he didn't look anywhere near as ridiculous as he'd imagined. In fact, he could rather see the appeal. He'd palmed himself experimentally through the tight lace. The rough burn only left him wanting more so he'd allowed himself to continue for just a moment longer. He'd watched himself in the mirror as the colour rose in his cheeks and lips parted. Had imagined it was Severus watching him, with the hint of a sneer playing on his lips.
He'd quickly whipped them off after that. Guessing that it wouldn't go down well if he came in his knickers before Severus had the chance to appreciate them.
And now, finally, he's here. Standing in Severus' quarters for the very first time. He had been greeted at the door this time, Severus had led him inside with a satisfied smirk and knowing eyes that lingered too long at his crotch. Remus can't help but think that perhaps Severus has missed his company.
"Strip," Severus commands almost at once.
Well, he missed something at any rate, but perhaps it wasn't Remus' company.
Remus does as he's told. Tries distracting himself from his humiliation by casting glances around the dimly lit room, but it's a fool's errand. He takes in only flashes of it: a book upturned on the arm of a plush chair; a half-empty glass of red wine perched on a table; a dark landscape hanging on the wall; the soft glow of a small fire in the centre of the room. It's impossible to focus on anything under the intensity of Severus' gaze.
Just like when he becomes the wolf, everything is heightened. The sound of his shaky breaths, the swish of fabric as his robes fall to the floor, the hammer of his heart as he offers himself up for scrutiny, the pinch of his flesh as the too-tight waistband digs into his sides.
Severus' stern expression falters for a moment at the sight of him. Perhaps he didn't think Remus would really be bold enough to follow through with his instructions. Perhaps he was never really meant to, and this was all some elaborate test that Remus has failed. But then it's back in place in an instant.
"Seems I was right. This sort of thing does suit you far better."
He circles around him, taking him in from every angle, manipulating him as he sees fit – chin up, arms back, nowhere to hide. Not that Remus wants to. His cock is already throbbing, the crush of the tightening fabric stimulating him even more. When Severus finally brushes his hand over it, he whimpers.
The whimper turns into a whine, somewhere between pleasure and pain, as Severus grabs the waistband and twists.
Severus presses in against him, the buttons of his robes rubbing against Remus' bare chest. He tilts his face, breathes warm breath into Remus' mouth, and, just for a moment, Remus thinks Severus is going to kiss him. His lips tingle in anticipation.
But he doesn't. Remus feels nothing but the lightest brush of his lips as he says, "Good. Now get on your knees."
Feeling slightly giddy, Remus sinks down in front of him. His breath catches in his throat as Severus starts unbuttoning the front of his own robes. Was he finally going to let Remus touch him? For a moment, Remus wonders just how things got to this point. How had Severus – a man for which, until recently, he had felt nothing but a quiet resentment for – managed to reduce him to this state in only a few short weeks. How did he find himself in a position where he would do anything, even parade through the castle in women's underwear, just to get his approval? Perhaps Severus had been right in the beginning. Remus was mad. Or desperate.
All these thoughts evaporate as Severus eases down his trousers just enough. Although they were only grazed, Remus' lips still burn from Severus' false promise of a kiss. He wants nothing more than to wrap them around the cock standing hard and ready in front of him. But can he really? He looks up at Severus, seeking permission. He receives it in a look. One that says, 'what are you waiting for?'. And his eyes say something else as well: that he needs this just as much as Remus does.
Remus lets out a hum of pleasure as he takes Severus in his mouth. He's so pent up from the anticipation of it all, wound up so tightly from the ever-mounting frustration Severus causes, that he has to force himself to take things slowly. To tease. To draw this out for as long as he can. Because who knew when it would be happening again?
Already Remus is unable to stop the gentle rock of his own hips. The knickers feel tighter than ever, and they squeeze him in a way that's almost like being touched. Almost. Remus groans around Severus' cock and takes him further into his mouth. Severus has been near silent up until now, but Remus doesn't miss breath hitch in his breath or the tiny jerk of his hips as Remus starts to move his head back and forth, finally sucking him properly.
Emboldened by his reaction, Remus slides one hand up Severus' thigh, tensed hard underneath his robes. The other he wraps around the base of Severus' cock, stroking it in time with his mouth. This earns him a gentle sigh from Severus, who runs his long fingers through Remus' hair. Remus risks a glance upwards and sees that Severus' eyes are closed, his face relaxed, more so than Remus has ever seen it before. It takes away some of the harshness of his features, and this, along with the slight flush of his cheeks, makes him look almost...well, not beautiful...but alluring, nonetheless.
"Well done," Severus murmurs, twisting Remus' hair around his fist and holding it steady.
The praise is almost too much for Remus. Although Severus is the one getting his cock sucked, he's the one moaning. Remus has always enjoyed giving, but it's been so long he'd forgotten just how good it feels. The tight lace of the knickers rubs against his cock as he rocks harder still. He can feel a wetness start to seep through them. God, he wants to free himself from them so badly. A few tugs of his straining cock is all it would take for him to come right now with Severus hard in his mouth.
But he doesn't. He wants to focus on Severus, who is already getting close himself. He's thrusting back into Remus' mouth, tightening his grips on Remus' hair as if to keep him in place. Not that he's going anywhere. Right now, the only place in the world Remus wants to be is down here on his knees. But then Severus' hips give a final stutter, and Remus hears him fail to suppress a groan as he tips over the edge. Remus feels the warmth of his release in his mouth, but he doesn't stop until Severus is forcing him off.
Within moments, Severus has composed himself, neatly tucking himself back into his robes. Remus is still panting on the floor when Severus orders him to stand. By the time he gets to his feet, Remus is on a knife-edge, his constricted cock throbs painfully, the knickers have ridden half-way up his ass from grinding against them so much. He must look a state.
And yet, the look on Severus' face is one of satisfied approval as he reaches down for the waistband again and tugs. It's more than Remus can take; he cries out. His knees buckle. And then he's coming messily into his little, lacy knickers.
Severus lets out a low hum of laughter as Remus continues to buck through the last of his orgasm. Even though the pleasure, Remus burns with embarrassment. Humiliation. And he's never felt so good.
- 5
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- 7
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The Truth Will Out