Pairing: SS/RL

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: PoA

Archive: Please ask first and provide links.

Series/Sequel: Not planned, but anyone who wants to follow this up is welcome to try; just show me the end result, please!

Disclaimer: The world of Potter and those who dwell within are J.K. Rowling's. All hail the Empress!

He hurried along the corridor, trying not to spill the full goblet. *Damn last-minute emergencies ... I'd've been here a lot sooner if not for that ridiculous mess the first-years in detention made, potion splattered everywhere, brats crying*.... Finally he was at the door. He knocked loudly.

No answer. He beat on the door with his fist. "Lupin." Still nothing.

For some reason he felt his heart pound. He was perspiring despite the chill in the autumn air, which penetrated even here to the heart of the castle itself. He tried the door and the handle turned easily. Not locked yet, maybe Lupin was on his way; well, he'd go in and leave the brew. He pushed the door open -- and started.

Lupin was slumped over his desk, his head in his hands. Flaxen hair spilled over his fingers onto the desktop. Breathing raggedly, he looked up.

"Snape," he said in a thready whisper, and held out a hand. "Hurry...."

For a moment Snape could only stare. The desperation in that plea took him back to a time he thought forgotten ... he shook himself mentally and thrust the still-full cup into the outstretched fingers. Lupin's chin went up as he drained the goblet in the space of one long breath. Snape's mouth was dry as he watched the throat muscles constrict and release under the pale skin. *Enough*, he thought sternly, *that's all past ... it was never meant*....

"Thank you," Lupin was saying hoarsely, then mumbled something about hunters.

"What?" said Snape, distracted.

Lupin cleared his throat. "The hunter's moon," he said. "It's always worse this time of year, I've never known why." He was shivering. Suddenly he stood and came out from behind the desk. "Snape, it's coming on," he muttered, a look of raw pain on his face. "Leave ... now --"

But Snape was rooted to the spot. Something about the anguish in the other man's face mesmerised him.

Lupin seemed not to notice he still had a visitor. He muffled a groan, eyes shut, rapidly and with shaking fingers stripping off his clothes. He sank to his knees, arms crossed over his chest, and waited, shuddering. Soon his skin began to ripple and stretch and thicken, coarse dark hair began to sprout, his muscles tautened and swelled.

Snape couldn't take his eyes away as Lupin threw back his head in agony, gasping. Paws were forming where hands had been, claws growing from fingernails, a long and wicked-looking snout and pointed ears were replacing the refined features.

He had never known ... in all his studies of Dark creatures, with all he knew of lycanthropy, he had never realised the transformation was so agonising, so draining. Now a full-bodied werewolf stood before him, panting. It raised its head and looked Snape full in the face, almost reproachfully. And the eyes were Lupin's ... tired, full of an infinite wisdom and sadness as they had always been; not mad or wild. Those sane, sad eyes were the only thing that kept Snape standing in that room. Those eyes, full of pain and sorrow as they were, promised that he himself was safe from harm.

But the creature's own torment seemed to be far from over. A shudder passed through the werewolf; it began to cry softly, circling around and around as if chasing its tail -- but Snape did not feel the remotest desire to laugh -- then it clenched its muscles, sinking to the floor. To Snape's horror, the monster snapped its jaws over its own foreleg and began compulsively gnawing at its own flesh, whimpering. He found himself sinking onto the pallet beside the desk, taking the wolf's paw in his hands, pulling its muzzle carefully away from its leg.

The thing that was Lupin looked up at him in mute agony. He stroked the wounded paw, touched the muzzle, and to his surprise found the werewolf laying its head in his lap with a small whimper. The lean, frighteningly muscular body stretched out, and Snape felt as much as saw the creature relax beneath his touch.

Amazingly, he felt a warm feeling welling up inside him. When had he last felt needed? Or wanted? He reached out to brush his hand through the coarse fur again and again, noticing how the animal relaxed even more, until he saw that its eyes were shut. Its nose twitched, as if it dreamt (of what does a werewolf dream? He wondered); and he leaned back against the wall, one hand tangled in warm fur, and closed his own eyes....

They were newly made prefects, and they'd just been oriented to all the rights and privileges of their position. "Bags I first go at that bathroom we've been hearing about," a voice called jauntily as they left the assembly room.

"Potter, that's you all over," Lupin grinned. "Might've known you'd be first in line for the hot water."

"What other reason to be a prefect?" the black-haired boy said. "If you can't enjoy the perks, why want the power? C'mon, Moony, race you!"

"Bathed this morning, thanks," the other boy said cheerfully, watching his friend disappear up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, presumably to fetch his bathrobe. "Prat," he muttered fondly.

"You can say that again," Snape said, falling into step beside Lupin.

"Excuse me?" The calm voice was polite as always, but there was a warning glint in the mild gaze. For some reason Snape had always longed to destroy that calm, to see if he could somehow demolish that infernal composure.

"I said he's a prat," he repeated, a bit loudly. He measured the other boy with his eyes.

"I'll thank you not to talk that way about my friends," Lupin said quietly. Still pale, still calm, still polite, damn him.

"Oh?" He felt something hot and glad swelling his chest. "What'll you do if I keep on?"

Lupin was unshaken. "Oh, I'll think of something," he said with a little smile, turning to follow Potter up the stairs.

"Damn you, Lupin." Snape didn't realise he'd spoken aloud until the other boy turned in surprise. "What?"

But Snape could not continue. He stood at the foot of the stairs glowering, until Lupin finally shrugged and resumed his ascent. For some moments Snape's feet stayed rooted to the floor, then finally he turned and headed back to Slytherin territory.

The small confrontation replayed in his mind off and on throughout the day. He found himself wakeful that night, tossing and turning in his narrow bed, and finally muttered, "The hell with it." He rose quietly and found his robe, slipping it around him. Maybe Potter had a point; a hot bath might be relaxing.

He murmured the password outside the door, and looked around in surprise as he entered. For once rumour had not exaggerated; the prefects' bathroom really was magnificent. From the marble tiles to the gold-plated fixtures, it was luxurious. And the bath itself was big enough to really stretch out in -- he could almost swim....

If it weren't occupied. A sleek head rested on the side of the bath and its owner appeared to be asleep. At least, he was motionless. Snape hesitated, reluctant to move forward, a rare feeling for him; but he had every right to this bathroom too, and he dropped his robe on the tiles to step into the hot water. For the first time he got a good look at his fellow bather's face. It was Lupin. His eyes were shut and only his head showed above the surface of the bubbles.

Snape lowered himself into the water, sighing as the heat massaged his skin and the scented foam covered him. This really was the life ... Potter wasn't such a fool as he sometimes seemed ... he gave a half-grin, eyes shut. He just might let himself fall asleep like Lupin....

He heard a sudden splashing noise, and then a gargling cry. His eyes flew open to find Lupin struggling in the water. Apparently he really had been asleep and had slipped under only to be rudely awakened. Snape lunged forward. He heard the other boy's panicked voice -- "Help -- hurry --" and grabbed the outstetched hands, pulling him to his feet.

Lupin spluttered and coughed, bending over, nearly retching. "God," he gasped. "What the hell --"

"Rule number one of water safety," Snape intoned. "Never fall asleep in your bath."

"Snape? How did you get here?" Lupin gasped, dazed. "Never mind, idiotic question. Well, thanks."

"I'm sure you'd have been fine in another ten seconds or so," Snape said dryly. "Once you realised the water was only two, three feet deep at most." Both boys were still standing and he found himself staring at Lupin's slender body, water and froth streaming down the pale skin ... he tried not to look, but -- suddenly he sat down. Oh God, he was getting ... had Lupin seen?

The other boy appeared to have noticed nothing. "Well, thanks anyway," he said with a little smile, lowering himself back into the water and resuming his wash.

"Polite as always," Snape muttered, rattled. Was he going to be in here all night? He silently willed Lupin to finish up and leave.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing." He leaned back and closed his eyes.

"Er ... may I warn you not to doze off?" Was that humour in his voice?

"No need," he said, more shortly than he intended. "I'm not at all tired. That was why I came here."

"Me too," Lupin said with a touch of sympathy. "As you can see, this was the perfect cure, but now I'm wide awake again, dammit."

Snape reluctantly chuckled. He could feel himself getting harder. Must be the hot water ... good thing he was well hidden....

"Well, that's probably all the benefit I'll get out of a hot bath for one night," Lupin said ruefully, at last. With no trace of self-consciousness he rose from the bubbles and reached for a towel, drying himself in a leisurely fashion. Snape couldn't help peering from between nearly-closed lids. What was he, some kind of pervert?

"G'night, Snape," Lupin said, donning a mossy green bathrobe and heading to the door. "You're not going to sleep, are you?" A touch of anxiety seemed to thread his words.

Snape opened his eyes fully and stared at him. "No." *Probably not at all tonight, the way things are going*....

Something in his face seemed to be puzzling Lupin. He stared back at Snape, the blue eyes suddenly hooded, his expression a bit ... wary? "Okay," he said uncertainly, and left.

Snape leaned back in the still-warm pool. God, he was so hard, and all from the merest touch of his hands, the sight of his slender pale body. He knew what he wanted ... if Lupin were to return, were to let that robe fall from him, were to step back down into the water ... he began stroking himself, imagining it.....

He woke, hot and hard as he'd been all those years ago. He lay on his side, fully clothed, and next to him -- was the object of his desire, naked and trembling. What the --

He sat up, recalling the past night's events. He saw Lupin back in his human form, not trembling with desire, but shivering with cold. He looked down at him for a moment, then got up from the pallet where they both lay, searching the office for something warm. He finally found a spare robe in the closet and draped it over the lean body, trying not to look too closely at the silken flesh.

Lupin sighed, still unconscious, and curled himself under the robe. Snape began to feel an unfamiliar tenderness. He gazed downat the pale hair, the fine lines marking that perfect face, and he knew the desire was as strong as it had been all those years ago when he'd begun making every effort to avoid further contact.

But somehow all his efforts had been in vain. He'd found his eyes drawn to Lupin at every opportunity, from across the Great Hall at meals to outside the greenhouses during the double Herbology classes Slytherins shared with Gryffindors. In the end it became a real labour to keep from resting his gaze on that face whenever he had the chance. Nothing seemed to kill the craving, not even his shocking discovery of what Lupin was -- reached after months of speculation and compulsive spying, concluding with Black's infamous trick.

He even found himself stalking Lupin when the desire became too strong, hunting him down just to look at him, dogging his footsteps -- but from afar, never close enough to provoke a reaction. Something inside Snape, perhaps something about Lupin himself, just wouldn't let him try to get closer. And while he let Lupin be, he

continued to taunt Potter and Black. His envy of them, even of Pettigrew, who could be so free and easy with their friend when he could not, never abated.

And now Lupin was back at Hogwarts. He had done his best to talk Dumbledore out of hiring him, using his werewolf identity as the excuse, but really he was afraid that dreadful, sweet obsession would return. He did his best to ignore Lupin; he was icily polite in his presence but no more. He'd thought he was doing well. But....

Looking down, he saw Lupin was shivering again. The robe wasn't enough. Sighing, he gave in to the temptation and stretched himself along that lean body, gathering it into his arms. He was still hard and aching; somehow it eased him a bit to press himself against that satiny skin. He shut his eyes once again....

When he next woke, he found Lupin had turned in his sleep and was facing him, no longer shivering. He had been staring into that composed face for many moments when the tired eyes opened slowly, confusedly. "Snape? I thought I dreamt you ... Were you here all night?" he said hoarsely, a frown marring his brow.

"Yes," he whispered. He couldn't seem to keep his fingers from brushing the flaxen hair off Lupin's forehead.

"Thanks for staying, I remember you helped me ... but why?" Lupin's eyes were closed again, the puzzled frown still in place. He appeared not to notice Snape's touch.

In answer, Snape leaned over and pressed his lips to that sweet mouth.

Lupin's eyes flew open and he began to jerk away in shock, but Snape's hand had moved to the back of his head and was holding it firmly in place. He felt Lupin pushing feebly at his chest; his night as a werewolf seemed to have taken its toll on his strength. But the pushing finally stopped. Slowly, Snape deepened the kiss, feeling triumph mingling with desire as Lupin's lips gradually relaxed and parted beneath his....

It was ... fantastic. He'd never felt....

"Snape," Lupin muttered, finally pulling free. The confusion in the weary eyes had deepened.

"Call me Severus," he said, moving his hands down the slender body.

"*Severus*...." He writhed beneath the other man's touch. "You know this isn't --"

"Wise? Permissible?" Snape propped himself on one elbow. "Just tell me you don't want it ... *Remus* ... and I'll leave."

Lupin lay very still, an unreadable expression on his face.

"I'll take that as permission," he said a bit harshly, stroking one hand down the straight back, then over the sweet, rounded rear.

Remus groaned. "We're not even...."

"Friends? We could be," Severus murmured, his lips trailing down the pale chest. He found one nipple and opened his mouth over it, tugging it between his lips, laving it with his tongue. Remus gasped, cradling Snape's head against him and rolling over onto his back. Snape gave a short, exultant laugh as he pressed Remus into the mattress, sliding his hands beneath the cover that was still draped over him.

He soon felt Remus fumbling at his chest, trying to undo his robe. He helped him remove it, and the blue eyes opened halfway to gaze up at him. Remus studied the sallow skin, finally smoothing it beneath trembling fingers, and smiled a little when Severus drew in a sharp breath as Remus caressed his nipples in turn.

Snape quickly bent his head to Remus' chest again, kissing, nibbling, moving lower. Lupin squirmed, eyes shut once more as Snape kissed his stomach and dipped his tongue into the dent of his navel. He felt Remus shiver as he caressed the soft skin of his belly, watching his face all the while. Gradually he stroked his hands down Remus' hips to his legs and felt him tensing. He heard himself murmur soothingly as he caressed the trembling thighs -- and he suddenly realised.

"You've never done this before, have you?" he said softly, watching as Remus hesitated, then shook his head mutely. "It'll be all right," he promised. "Just let me...." He pulled the spare robe completely off him and gazed hotly at his swelling erection.

"You're so beautiful," he crooned, coaxing Remus' thighs apart and stroking his warm palms up the insides of his legs. *Oh God, his first time* ... he felt a bit dizzy, heady with the knowledge of it, of what he was doing. *Must be gentle*.... He touched the sweet hardness tenderly, running one hand up and down the core of him as he'd longed to do since --

"Severus," Lupin breathed, looking up at him, panting. He felt him tensing again.

"Shhh," he murmured, stroking a little harder now. "Remus -- I have to -- " He bent his head. Lupin cried out as his mouth touched him there and tried to pull back, but Snape's hands slid to his hips, holding him firmly where he was. Severus' insistent tongue stroked the hard length up and down, slowly at first, then slid over him, taking him inside the hot wet depths of his mouth, sucking, working him harder and harder. Remus gave a little cry of anguish and buried his hands in Snape's hair, whether to urge him on or push him away was unclear -- was it too much? --

But he had to pull away, gasping. "Remus -- I can't wait much longer -- " Severus quickly discarded his shorts and knelt there between his lover's legs. He was beautiful in his desire, his erection huge and hard. Remus swallowed a small gulp of fear, but couldn't take his eyes away. He reached up to touch him but Severus muttered, "No -- I might -- "

He spoke an incantation, and suddenly his hand was coated with something wet and glistening. He reached down between Lupin's legs, and Remus groaned as he felt one long finger pushing up into his body, stretching him, readying him. A second finger joined the first, twisting deep inside, and Remus panted, clutching him around the neck. "God, Severus, that feels...."

"I know," he answered huskily. "Put your legs over my shoulders." Remus slid himself into position, opening himself to give Severus the access he needed.

Snape stretched himself out over Lupin, who looked a bit panicky, as if he felt half-smothered, but then Severus was stroking one hand between his legs again. "Remus, you're so sweet, so hot,"he whispered.

Lupin moaned as he felt Snape's hardness probing between his legs, beginning to push inside. He began to squirm. "Just relax -- hold still," Severus gasped, "I don't want to -- hurt --" Remus lay beneath his lover, trembling, and tightened his arms around his neck. Severus looked down into Remus' face, his eyes holding a silent, desperate question.

"I'm all right," Remus managed to whisper. Severus sighed and thrust smoothly inward. Remus tensed and sank his teeth into Severus' shoulder, muffling a cry. Snape stopped at once, wrapping his arms around Lupin, staying very still inside him; he laboured for breath, holding him there for a long moment. "Please," Remus murmured at last. "Please, Severus...."

Severus' legs were trembling as he began to stroke in and out, slowly at first, then faster and faster. "So tight," he muttered. "God, I've wanted this, wanted you -- for so long," he gasped. "*Remus* -- " He slowed himself, trying to draw it out, reaching between their bodies to stroke Remus' shaft once more. God, it was fire, it was lightning ... He could feel Remus climbing the pinnacle with him --

"*Severus*," Lupin cried, clutching his shoulders. Lupin fell over the edge -- but took wing like an eagle --

Severus looked down into the beautiful face. That composure was shattered at last, replaced by a look of sublime ecstacy. He felt Remus convulsing against him, spilling himself hotly against his belly, and it sent him over the edge too. "Remus...." He buried himself deep, deeper, as the pleasure grew and burst inside him to spill into the hot sweet depths of the man he'd wanted for a lifetime.

Remus' legs finally relaxed, sliding off Severus' shoulders to splay on either side of their spent bodies. Severus lay heavily atop him as their breathing slowly quieted, then rolled over to his side, taking his lover with him. He wrapped Remus in his arms and studied his flushed face. *Pale no longer*, he thought. "All right?" he asked softly, pushing a lock of hair off Remus' damp forehead.

"Mmm, yes," he murmured, smiling at him sleepily. His eyes couldn't seem to keep from closing. Remus put his arms around Severus' neck and nestled himself against him.

Severus stroked Remus' hair, watching his face as he fell asleep. He slid one hand down his back, down his legs, and it came away damp. Was that blood on his fingers? Foolish tears stung his eyes ... He wiped his hand on the mattress, pulling the discarded robes over them both. He drew Remus next to his heart and shut his eyes. The hunter was home at last.