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The big bad and the wolf Completed	By : Kvarta Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Remus Views: 3820 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is purely for entertainment purposes, no money is being made from it.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
A/N: Huge, huge thank you to my alpha - Holdt and my beta - inviteme <3 <3 <3
He continued to sit on the chair, taking care not to touch much of anything and observing Lupin. He would bark an insult about Lupin’s technique or inadequacy from time to time even if he didn’t have too many objections, Lupin was reasonably adequate at what he called amateurish home brewer.
Not that he would ever admit that to Lupin. “Even slices, Lupin, under the 45-degree angle, that is not a firewood.” He smirked.
The potion would still work with less perfect chunks but the maximum potency required precision. And he was in dire need of maximum potency if he had any desire to sleep that night or in the next few nights.
His skin was taut, a painful shade of dark red and dry. He felt the unpleasant feverish sensation and slight shivers. The last he needed was a fever caused by falling asleep on the sun. There was a good reason he avoided the sun and why he disliked summer.
If Severus wanted to be completely honest with himself, there was more than one reason he avoided sun. First one was now obvious. The second... He always connected sun and sunshine with happiness, and joy, and all that ... which only happen to others but never him.
Sunshine was warm and playful, it clashed severely with the gloom and grim in his soul and in his life. It also made it harder to hide, not to think and not to want. But now, he couldn’t escape it in Lupin’s overly bright home.
Now, he had to face all his demons - visible in the brightness that surrounded him.
Looking at Lupin work he frowned. It is all his fault.
Yes, the sun was for the likes of Lupin. Lupin who already had a slight bronze on his torso and arms and face and legs as far as he could see. He briefly wondered how far that bronze went and were there parts still milky white?
Shaking his head mentally he tried to chase that image away.
Lupin was working diligently. His muscles gleaming on the streak of light behind his back. Skin marred, but taut over slick muscles. Muscles that jumped and stretched, full of strength.
Obviously, the married life suited Lupin. He wasn’t that thin and sickly looking anymore. Then again he was the last person to complain about thin. His own body verging on serious malnutrition. Lupin’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
“It is done. And it is brewed perfectly if I can say so myself.” grinned Lupin.
“You may, but I’ll be the judge of potions quality.” Severus frowned, standing up.
“Sit down, Severus. I’ll apply the potion to your skin. I don’t know how but you managed to burn on your back as well.”
“Hot oil causes blisters even on healthy skin, Lupin.”
“Yes, well - while you were daydreaming the potion cooled down.”
“I was watching you, you were…”
“Cleaning up. Now sit still, I’ll try not to cause pain.”
“Imposible! Your very existence causes pain.”
Lupin just smiled and approached him. He watched as Lupin coated his hands with a potion that did have the right consistency, colour and smell.
“I’ll start with your legs. It appears that they didn’t burn as much.”
Lupin’s need to chatter drove him mad. Lupin crouched and pulled his right leg, spreading the oily substance over the front of his foot, and then the ankle managing to hit that one spot, just below and slightly behind the bone.
Severus ground his teeth and set a firm mask of contempt. Lupin was nothing if not - meticulous. He took his time coating the skin with the oily concoction with such care that Severus found himself fighting hard against squirming.
It wasn’t that he had preferences towards Lupin...well... He had enough of a mind to have a healthy fear of Lupin and he detested the man. But in all honesty, he alone wasn’t that picky about… well...
Ok, yes, there was a time when I did think... But that was before...
In the meantime, Lupin managed to reach his knees and find yet another spot, one below the knee. Lupin’s hands gilded dangerously above his knees reaching the exposed skin to the rim of his cutouts. He stared at Lupin with a smirk, pretending not to feel when one wandering thumb sneaked under the jeans.
So, he’s is not as skittish as I thought him to be. Well, it was worth a try.
Peering on still kneeling Lupin he smirked. “Ben practising, Lupin?”
“Hmmm?” Lupin raised his eyes to meet Severus', a mild smile lingering in the corners of Lupin’s mouth and sort of dreamy glow in his eyes. “Practising what? I had to make my own salves, Severus. Not many apothecaries are willing to sell potions and ointments to a Werewolf.”
“Your skill as a ... cook... is not discussed at the moment.” He frowned Bloody wolf, I won’t be bested by you.
“Potions are art, Severus. Wouldn’t you think it is degrading for your own art to call it a cooking?”
“Potion making is an art - it requires skill, precision and keen mind. All of which you do not possess. I would, however, call what you did - cooking. But not to tire your diminutive power of perception, Lupin, I was and am referring to your House Elf traits.”
“Oh! Being a masseur in a muggle world is a honest work, Severus.” replied Lupin with a slight shrug, still smiling.
That calm annoyed him immeasurably. Lupin stood up and took more oil on his hands.
“Your hands now, if you don’t mind.”
“I mind, but I have no choice.”
Lupin caressed every finger, every bloody knuckle with dedication. Severus mashed his lips tighter and steeled his muscles. Waiting for a slow torture to finish.
Silence engulfed them, and only the sound of wet slosh of ointment over bare skin reverberated against the walls. Severus tried to ignore the sound.
Reciting ingredients for complex potions always helped him to still his mind. This time - it did nothing. Lupin’s gentle touch moved from his arms to his back. The way Lupin moved his hands Severus could swear it was more of a caress than a simple help.
He nearly jumped when Lupin run his slick palms over his shoulders, standing behind him now. When did he move? And run a gentle line against his pectorals. He wanted to say something scratchy but at that point, Severus couldn’t trust his voice.
He focused on being still. Not to move a muscle, not to break the aura of disdain he tried to project. The hands slide against his skin, soft and tender, not pressing - a butterfly light touch. It made a bad situation even worse.
Not pressing - that seemed to be the highlight of the day.
Severus wondered if he had to control his body’s reactions this hard ever in his life. No, not to his knowledge. Not even when he was under the force of Voldemort’s ire. Lupin’s palms glided over the edge of his ribs and down his sunken abdomen.
Lupin’s hands reached the hem of his jeans.
“Awful handsy, aren’t you Lupin?” He smirked.
“Not ‘handsy’, Severus. I’m just applying the salve on your skin.”
“Indeed. Well, do try to resist the urge to ‘kiss it better’.” He scoffed.
Lupin's hands moved. Lupin moved.
He could breathe again. But his ironclad control was slipping. Standing up he, walked with deliberate leisure to the door.
“I’d say that this concludes my sunbathing days.” He added, not turning back.
Severus did his best not to rush to his room. It wouldn’t play well for him if Lupin thought he somehow managed to get the upper hand. But, his control was now in a steep decline.
Letting the door lock behind him he casted a silent locking and sound charms. The rush of blood he controlled with sheer will slammed downwards fast. He growled in frustration. Wasn’t it enough that he woke up more than once with a sticky wet patch on his underwear. Something he managed to escape after the passing of his teenage days.
Now he had the same problem when awake.
Unzipping his jeans, too tight and rough all of a sudden, he growled again. There was a stark difference between almost sour cherry red shade of his skin and soft yellowish-white of his lower belly, his privates and portion of his legs.
I look like a bloody clownfish.
But that wasn’t the imminent problem. The more pressing matter stared at him proudly jutting almost parallel with the floor and angry reddish, aching.
Taking his cock into a hand, blissfully still slick from the ointment, he used another hand to lean at the wall. It was just his luck that Lupin wasn’t intimidated by the kiss - no, the man appeared much calmer not to mention handsy than he anticipated.
And that kiss... In the retrospect it caused much more trouble to him than to Lupin, given that he was now not only tugging but also thrusting into his own hand.
Bloody Lupin. Just my sodding luck. This is the last thing I needed.
The thrusting picked up the pace, so did the tugging. Laboured puffs of breath heavy in his chest. With an angry tug, almost painful, he tried to exorcise the taste of Lupin and the image of Lupin thrusting into him...
Now, that was new - even for him.
Sweet Salazar. “Bloody, Lupin” He grunted, coating the happy coloured wall with his seed.
Panting, he stumbled to the bed and flopped down, then jumped like the bed was made out of needles. Siting carefully he huffed.
“Bloody, Lupin. Idiot.”
- 8
- 9
- 10
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The big bad and the wolf *Completed*

The big bad and the wolf Completed