Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

You Will Not Kiss Me	By : Prosperosdaughter Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Remus Views: 22836 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: JK Rowling & her associates own the Harry Potter universe and I make no money from my stories.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Chapter 8: Withholding

Another night with Remus Lupin; another 5 a.m. skull-shattering headache. Never mind the enchantment or the possible return of the Dark Lord, it seemed to Snape that he and Lupin would die of toxic shock in short order at this rate. He drank another hangover Potion; yet again, he left the remainder for Lupin, stroking Lupin's hair before going for a shower.

There had been no sex last night. Nothing needed to be said after what had been said and done that morning. They had kissed and embraced for a long time before sleeping but neither sought to take it further. At one point, Lupin had said to Snape that he was going to set about wooing him back. Snape snorted at the recollection as he showered. Nobody had ever tried to "woo" Severus Snape.

He charmed his drawing room clear of the detritus of their drinking bout. Of course, he hadn't eaten dinner so he had hardly helped himself. He looked at the chessboard with the denouement of the last game they had played. Best of three: Lupin had won! That was a revelation to Snape. How had he gone through school as a stalwart of the chess club not knowing Lupin played to championship standard? Too busy marauding, he thought sourly.

Well, there wouldn't be too many more unstructured days like this once the students were back after new year. They needed to make the most of this free time they had. He needed to add to his notes on the apparent hypnotic effect he'd had on Lupin yesterday, and put together his notes on what had happened with the wolf, now he felt more emotionally controlled. All of this had to be factored into their considerations on the Thrall. They shouldn't leave it too much longer. He needed more reference books – he didn't want to try to dismantle the Thrall without full information. He was pretty sure these would be difficult to obtain. He would need to take a trip to Knockturn Alley before the students returned.

He got out the papers ready for when Lupin awoke. Merlin knew how long that would be, so he called for tea for himself and set about those notes.

He'd been fairly dispassionate writing his notes about the wolf. It hadn't upset him as he thought it might. He did curse the creature for trying to ruin what had been happening with Lupin. He stopped writing and sat back in his chair to think about this. It had been remarkably intense in a very short time. He had willingly told this man things that had taken him years to tell Dumbledore as part of his rehabilitation. Prior to that, only Lily had known about his father's beatings, but he had never told her what had happened with his house mates. He wondered how much of this trust was the work of the Thrall.

He believed that his attraction to Lupin was genuine, which he simply would have just suppressed at its nascence before the Thrall – as he did with any attraction he had felt. His expressive response to this attraction was the work of the Thrall: he was sure of that. He had simply never reacted in this way before; he certainly had never instigated passion like that before. If the Thrall was broken, he wondered if he would lose the ability to respond to Lupin's passion, or even to be passionate himself. His mouth set. He didn't want that.

He went back to his notes. The moon was waning. If he was correct, his desire should abate during this time and his Call be less strong. Snape thought it would be difficult to test that at the moment because the assault of the wolf had injured Snape so he was reluctant to have sex anyway. But reluctant though he may have been, he could not deny he still had a concurrent desire hat thrummed in his veins all the time like a low level headache. He was irritated with himself both for needing time to recover and simultaneously desiring what a small part of his mind considered his assailant. He sat back in his chair again, feeling bewildered by his emotions – emotions he simply wasn't used to dealing with. My mind is more fractured than Remus's! At least Lupin could blame his on an ancient curse, he thought angrily. Perhaps, my state of mind is similarly afflicted now – just by a different ancient curse.

During this reverie, he heard Lupin awaken and take himself off to the shower. Snape called for breakfast. This time, Lupin arrived holding the empty Potion bottle, looking absurdly proud that he'd remembered to check the bedside table. Snape gave him a small smile. As breakfast arrived, they fell to discussing the additional notes Snape had made, which Lupin read with interest, his features darkening when he read the notes on the wolf.

"So, to test your theory about the waning of the moon, you need me to stay away from you," Lupin stated, looking disappointed, but resigned.

Snape nodded. " I think so. I think my Call will be less strong and possibly our desires may also be less strong. If we're together in bed until New Year, however," he smirked, "I don't think we'll be able to monitor it impartially."

"I suppose not," Lupin smiled. "My desires are always stronger with the waxing moon, I believe, so I don't know how much the Thrall will affect that. I have to say, being in bed until New Year is a rather delicious idea though," he smiled wickedly at Snape. "Such a shame," he murmured huskily, sending an unexpected thrill shooting down Snape's neck.

"What happened to wooing me back?" Snape mock-chided.

"That was thoughtless of me, Severus, I'm sorry," Lupin's face fell. Snape leant forward and stroked Lupin's cheek and chin. "Don't think on it," he said briskly.

Lupin recovered his composure and then asked with a wry smile, "So do I report to you what I'm feeling, or keep a diary to hand in, Professor Snape?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at Lupin and looked at him witheringly. It became a challenge to maintain the expression in the face of Lupin's ravishing smile, which did not falter. Damn, Remus was a master at this, Snape thought as he felt his expression soften. That's probably how he got away with so much when we were young.

"Probably, we can just tell each other," Snape said.

"Then you should know that I'm feeling your Call right now," Lupin said, with a straight face. "It's rather strong, considering I'm in the same room as you."

Snape was shocked. He had become accustomed to this undercurrent of desire that had been his constant companion since Christmas Eve when he had resolved to take on the wolf. He had only thought about the Call abstractly; forgetting Lupin was physically attuned to it as well as his keen senses.

Struggling to maintain his calm demeanour, he said, "Is it as strong as when you've felt it before?"

"Severus, it's been constant since Christmas. It is as strong, but it's bearable because I don't resist it. It is not comparable with how it felt at first because I didn't understand what it was then and I suffered under it."

Snape knew the undercurrent of desire that did not wane was the desire for Lupin to offer himself to Snape again. Snape was sure that, if it were to happen, it would happen during the waning of the moon. Snape was sure it wouldn't happen again during the waxing of the moon because the wolf would move to stop it. He was always aware of this desire; indeed, he thought of it a great deal in his quiet moments. He had forgotten how attuned Lupin was to his needs. What use was it now to send Lupin away?

"Severus, I hope you trust me not to hurt you again," Lupin said quietly, stirring Snape from his thoughts.

"I trust you, Remus. I'm not sure how much I trust us together though," he said dryly.

Lupin took Snape in his arms and kissed him lightly. "I told you – I am wooing you. It is important that you be showered with affection and that I not jump your bones at every available opportunity. At least, until you tell me I may," Lupin laughed huskily.

"What do you propose then?" Snape asked.

"We sleep together at night unless you ask me to you during the day as well – that way I meet the physical need to respond to your Call," Lupin suggested.

"Am I obliged to get resoundingly inebriated each night?" Snape drawled.

"On New Year's Eve, without question," Lupin responded, happily. "Other than that, only if the mood takes you."

They slipped fairly quickly into a routine of spending the remaining few days of December catching up on some very belated marking of papers and lesson plans, and their own research projects as well as working on the Thrall in their own quarters. After dinner in the Great Hall, Lupin would join Snape in his quarters for the night. They didn't drink, but read or discussed their research or played chess, which Snape seldom won, much to his annoyance and with no small admiration on his part.

They spent the nights in each other's arms and they would kiss and touch, like teenagers, Snape thought. Snape could sense Lupin's sexual frustration. He could smell his desire and, well, his arousal was obvious. But he did not once ask Snape or even hint that he would like to take things further. He did no more than Snape encouraged. Each night, Snape encouraged a bit more intimacy. Snape knew this must confuse Lupin because he would feel through the Thrall that Snape was feeling sexually charged all the time. He wondered if Lupin realised the nature of his injury that was his only barrier; he suspected not.

On New Year's Eve, there was a party for those still in the school over the break. For a small gathering, it was lively and good fun. Snape was always quietly fascinated by Minerva's humour when her guard was down. The unfortunate if oblivious recipient would always be Sybil, but in Snape's mind, that was fully justified. Lupin's wicked sense of humour got the better of him on a couple of occasions, usually to Filch's detriment. This earned him a mild reproof from Dumbledore, which Snape was amused to see left Lupin embarrassed like a schoolboy. Those students that remained were invited, but very few stayed for long after eating, their teachers being too embarrassing to spend New Year's Eve with. Firewhiskey flowed freely once all of the students had left.

Well after midnight, on returning to Snape's rooms with a half bottle to accompany them, they fell into bed, quite the worse for wear and Snape felt quite light-hearted and light-headed. I will surely pay dearly for this tomorrow, he thought gravely and promptly dismissed it from his mind. Lupin was still laughing to himself for transfiguring Mrs Norris into a bony and rather mange-ridden hot water bottle cover, and how Dumbledore had reversed it wandlessly, chiding Lupin like a child. In his drunken state, Lupin found it all too hilarious.

"How do you even think of these things?" Snape asked indulgently, as they kissed deeply and passionately and Snape allowed his hands to wander freely. Lupin reciprocated, leaning over Snape's body.

"Just my imagination. Always been a bit overactive. Probably why I liked to prank at school." He nuzzled Snape's neck. "I've a very active imagination about sex too," he said meaningfully.

"Of that, I have no doubt," Snape tried, and failed, to sound scornful as Lupin traced his tongue around his ear.

"Tell me your fantasies, Severus," he murmured, kissing and nipping Snape's neck.

"I don't have any," Snape breathed, stroking Lupin's spine, keeping his sole, insistent fantasy to himself.

"You must do," Lupin insisted.

"Why must I?" Lupin greeted this with an exasperated sigh and licked the hollow of his neck.

"What do you think of when you imagine us together?" Lupin breathed then flicked his tongue along Snape's clavicle.

"I don't imagine; I recall what we have done previously. 'S very pleasant," he slurred slightly as he gently sucked at Lupin's neck and ran his hands through his hair.

"Go on, use your imagination and tell me," Lupin whispered, kissing Snape's chest slowly.

"I don't ... have an ... imagination," Snape hitched as Lupin slowly rubbed Snape's nipples until they were very hard, kissing his breast bone.

"I do," Lupin whispered suggestively. Snape felt Lupin smile against his chest.

"You would. Your mind is pure filth," he responded breathily as his back arched as Lupin grasped his waist and stroked his sides. "Tell me then," he sighed heavily, stroking his fingers around Lupin's stomach and towards his erection.

"Your classroom." Lupin's hands were tracing down Snape's body lightly.

"My cla...?" Snape would have liked to look outraged, but he was too distracted by Lupin's hands stroking his inner thighs.

"Over your desk." He felt Lupin's smile though the continuing kisses to his chest as Snape gently found and started to stroke Lupin's erection.

"Over?" Snape gasped, not only at the picture forming in his head, but at the hand that now held his cock and the other that was massaging underneath so gently.

"Over," Lupin confirmed, increasing the pressure slightly, continuing to kiss and lick Snape's neck.

"Bending over?" Snape, starting to become breathless now, as both moved their hands slightly faster.

"No. Backwards. You know I like to look at you," Lupin murmured into Snape's hair, speeding up his stroke and massaging Snape's balls more firmly.

"Will I have a full course of yoga before this happy event?" Snape managed, his mind trying to regain control from the imagination he'd always denied.

"Oh, Severus, I believe you are quite supple enough," Lupin chuckled deeply, pressing again against the small of Snape's back to make it arch and Snape moan.

"I hope ... I am not to be ... ravished in public." Snape managed to say and smiled at Lupin's increasingly rapid breathing, trying to maintain concentration on his stroke as the heat in his groin swelled and radiated outwards and set his nerves aflame.

"Certainly not. This sight is for my eyes only, especially as you are only wearing your outer robe."

"Only my ..." Snape was nearing tipping point, and his breath was ragged whilst his imagination proved more than up to the task of embellishing the picture. He was pulsing with heat and desire.

"I must have easy access, Severus. I will be far too impatient." Snape moaned hoarsely at this picture coupled with the now insistent rhythm Lupin was maintaining.

"You will?" he just managed to say, as his eyes began to roll back.

"I will," Lupin breathed into his mouth, looking into his eyes. "It is my fantasy, after all."

Snape could say no more as his orgasm overtook his mind and body and he cried out, followed quickly by Lupin's own orgasm and hoarse cry.

Another vicious 5 o'clock hangover, another hangover Potion. Happy New Year, Severus. Severus looked in the mirror and allowed himself a small smile after looking over his shoulder through the open door to the man asleep in his bed. In my classroom, indeed. A small laugh escaped him at the same time as a hot burst of desire flared in his gut as he made for the shower. He didn't think he could withhold much longer. He didn't really want to. He hoped he would be healed soon.

All the students were due back in school tomorrow. No more lazy, uninterrupted nights in bed. He and Lupin would have to patrol on different nights. He was quite sorry about that but then he supposed he shouldn't allow himself to get used to having someone else in his bed. When the Thrall was broken, Lupin wouldn't want to be in his bed. And I won't want him either, he told himself self-protectively.

It was his last opportunity to try to find new resources. He Apparated from the Hog's Head to Knockturn Alley and made his familiar way to Borgin & Burkes.

"Ah, Professor Snape, sir. So good to see you again sir. Anything specific taking your interest on this visit, sir, or just general research..." Borgin said, oleaginously, rubbing his dry hands at the expectation of a large order from a customer of more the esoteric Dark works literature.

Snape detailed his "research interests" and Borgin accepted the commission to locate the appropriate works and send word when ready.

Snape found he was oddly unsettled. Lupin had gone give Harry anti-Dementor lessons. Anti-Dementor lessons – what kind of ridiculous nomenclature was that? Surely Muggle-raised Potter had named them that! Snape thought viciously to himself.

He couldn't deny that he didn't want Lupin spending time with Potter, son of Lupin's late lamented best friend. They had argued about it earlier in the week when Lupin suggested he help scour the castle for a boggart to use. Snape had refused and had made some comment that a run-in with a Dementor wouldn't noticeably affect Potter's academic performance. Lupin told him he was fed up with Snape's sniping at the boy for no better reason than being his father's son. Harsh words followed:

"It is a good a reason as they ever had to snipe at me!" Snape shouted. "Potter and Black, blasted Purebloods who believed they were entitled as any in Slytherin House to their own unique brand of cruelty!"

"No, Severus!" Lupin raised his voice. "You will not say James and Sirius were of a type with Lestrange and Malfoy! What they did to you was barbaric. James and Sirius would never have done that to children. I won't have that."

"They were relentless bullies just the same, and Black tried to kill me!" Snape shouted.

He could see Lupin was losing his patience. "This is ridiculous, Severus, harbouring a schoolboy grudge against a dead man and a child who couldn't possibly have anything to do with anything. And as for Sirius," Lupin was distressed and his voice lowered, "well, you can hardly blame Harry for the actions of that traitor. Please Severus, put it in the past where it belongs. Let it go," he sounded dejected now.

Lupin was right; of course he was, but only so far as he knew the facts. James Potter had cost Snape his heart's desire when he was sixteen. Lily was his one and only true friend; the only person who had ever cared for him as he was – for him, Severus Snape. He had been goaded, day in and day out, and eventually lost her to Potter. Lupin probably had no idea. Some things Snape just didn't deal with well.

And as tangled as that was, knotted in with that was Snape's own gnawing guilt for his own betrayal of Lily. If he despised the boy for looking like and acting like his father, he despised him also for being a constant reminder that Lily had sacrificed herself to save him from the madman Snape had unwittingly put on her trail. He despised him for having her eyes. Despised him for being the object of a sacred vow made to Dumbledore that tied him to protect the boy. Yes, Snape despised him – it was the only thing about Potter he could control.

Lupin joined him after the lesson, throwing himself into a chair by the fire, looking contemplative. Snape handed him some tea.

"Well?" Snape asked softly, sitting next to Lupin. Anyone other than Potter, he would have ridiculed the prospect of producing a Patronus at that age. But he didn't underestimate Potter.

"He did it. It was an excellent start," Lupin whispered.

"Remus, what else?" He touched the tips of his fingers to Lupin's hand.

"I told Harry I knew his father," Lupin said with a sigh.

"I should say you did. Perfect pet pooch you were," Snape said snidely. "Why would you not?"

"Severus," Lupin's voice had a warning edge. "Albus asked me here this year in the hope I could shed light on how Sirius operates as well as help to protect Harry." He shrugged. "After what he did, I don't know that I ever knew Sirius at all. Albus doesn't want me to say too much about the Marauders. He's concerned the boy will go looking or Sirius when he realises just how close he was to his father."

"You think he doesn't know?" Snape asked sceptically.

"I don't know. He asked me about Sirius, but what can I possibly say."

Snape moved to say something, but stopped when Lupin looked up, and Snape saw how haunted he looked. "Come to bed Severus," he said softly. "Let's not argue now."

They went to bed, Lupin wrapping his arms around Snape a little more tightly than usual.

Lupin sighed heavily. "When the Dementors come near, Harry hears the dying screams of Lily and James. He has that memory of his parents, Severus." Snape heard the distress in Lupin's voice. "It is such a terrible thing."

Snape nodded, he felt quite unwell. The dying screams of Lily would be a terrible thing to hear. He held Lupin's arms closer to himself.
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

You Will Not Kiss Me