WARNING: This is a slash story, which means it contains male/male erotic content involving consenting adults. If you're not of legal age or are offended by such material, please go find something else to read.
Title: Another Day Older
By: Pocket Witch
Email: groovewitchkitty@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Severus is in danger, and only Remus can save him.
Disclaimer: What lovely boys, how I wish they were mine É alas, I'm
just sneaking them out from JKR's watch for a bit, getting 'em a
little dirty, and sending 'em back home É and making no money in the
process.
Notes: Warning- not a happy story. Not sure what else to say
about that.
Severus Snape didn't have birthdays. He hadn't had a single one for a good É what was it now? Almost twenty years. Ah yes, almost twenty. He'd almost lost track. Yes, he thought with a bitter snort, he'd lose track of his age on the same day that he invited Sirius Black and Harry Potter over for a cuppa and some biscuits. But how could he possibly be approaching forty? He hadn't had a single birthday since he turned twenty, not a one.
Wrapping his arms around himself in the kind of gesture that he would only venture when he was absolutely certain he was alone, he paced softly through his quarters. He lapped from bedroom to den, allowing the repetitive motion and familiarity of the territory to comfort him.
"Damn me for a melancholy bastard!" He growled to himself, shaking his head violently back and forth. Briefly considering going to the Great Hall for breakfast, he quickly decided he wasn't hungry, and instead strode across the room to his desk and sat, drawing a thick stack of Fifth Years' essays toward him. Soon he was able to lose himself in his task, quill in hand pouring forth vitriol with all the enthusiasm of a man trying desperately to keep his mind somewhere É nowhere É anywhere but the calendar.
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"Give me one reason why in hell I'd want someone to É love É me?"
The young man sneered the words with assuredness, a particular loathing emphasis placed upon the offending word. He had spoken with confidence, with no doubt that his words would answer the question to the satisfaction of the asker. And it seemed that they had, however, it only took a second for the other man's icy, calculating grin to wrap a cold hand around Severus's spine, causing him to wonder whether his wording had been quite so wise after all É
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Remus Lupin didn't have sex. He hadn't had a single sexual encounter for a good É what was it now? Almost twenty years. Ah yes, almost twenty. He'd almost lost track. Yes, he thought with a self conscious chuckle, he'd lose track of his ridiculously sad sexual history on the same day that Severus Snape declared his undying love for him, ripped off all of his clothes and smeared him with É
"Dammit, Remus, there's simply no point to that," he chastised himself quietly, and stood from where he had been sitting, absently pretending to read The Daily Prophet. Deciding that a bit of lunch would be the best way to calm him &endash; and more pleasant by far than a cold shower &endash; he went after his robes and tried to put Severus out of his mind. No Severus, anything but Severus É Severus, Severus, Severus É
Sliding the robes over his shoulders, he wondered if Severus would be in the Great Hall. Probably not, as the man rarely seemed to leave the dungeons lately. Remus sighed. It wasn't as though things were bad with himself and Severus, in fact there had been vast improvement over the past two years. His first year teaching at Hogwarts had been a trial; having not seen the man in years, he had hoped to convince himself that his feelings for Severus had faded and withered away. Although he had come very close to convincing himself, it became very clear that there was no convincing his heart É or his libido, for that matter. Nor did it do any good trying to explain to his heart that perhaps it was for the best that Severus disliked him (loathed him, who did he think he was fooling?). Perhaps it would be easier for all involved to simply allow Severus to seethe in peace, giving him no reason to feel anything other than indifference (simmering hatred) toward him.
No no no. Nothing could possibly be that simple. While he was realistic about the chances of Severus ever falling in love with him (about as likely as Severus inviting Sirius Black and Harry Potter over for a cuppa and some biscuits), the thought of Severus É hating É him &endash; well, it just wouldn't do. Perhaps they would never become friends, but at least they could put the past behind them, where it belonged, and be able to be in the same room without a storm cloud of tension rumbling ominously and scaring the house elves.
No one had been as surprised as Remus when they did become friends. Not dear friends, perhaps not even close friends É but certainly more than acquaintances. It hadn't been an overnight accomplishment &endash; in fact, the storm cloud had persisted throughout Remus's entire first year as a teacher at Hogwarts. Remus had certainly tried, but the year's events hadn't leant themselves to reconciliation, and his attempts invariably ended in a mass of thundering anger. After he had left Hogwarts, however É things had changed. Slowly. Remus had, in what he decided would be his final attempt if Severus continued to be nothing but scornful, written Severus a letter. A long letter. A lot of apologies were made, a lot of explanations were given, and amidst that, he had even dared to express some of the anger he felt at Severus's treatment of him throughout the past year. He hadn't expected a response.
A response came. It was short. It was terse. It was laden with sarcasm. In other words, it was Severus. But what it wasn't -- that was where the progress lay. It wasn't derisive, it wasn't nasty, and most importantly, it wasn't telling Remus to leave him alone. So Remus wrote another letter, and a correspondence had begun.
Remus was as satisfied as he was surprised at the degree of progress. Well, not entirely satisfied per se, but it was more than he had ever expected. Perhaps he had been mistaken before; perhaps the best way to avoid the storm cloud was, in fact, to avoid being in the same room with Severus. Never mind that dodging any actual contact with the man would also help him to put aside certain other É thoughts that tended to crop up. Months passed, quietly, amid letters tucked in brown boxes with the Wolfsbane potion that Severus posted to him with unerring regularity.
And then, just when Remus was becoming settled in his new life and becoming used to the idea that perhaps he could maintain a relatively sane friendship with Severus as long as he kept his distance from the man É Albus owled. Asking him to return to Hogwarts, to retake his position teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Remus had heard bits and pieces of The Moody Debacle from Severus, but it seemed that Dumbledore was truly concerned about the future of the class. As Voldemort's return pressed more and more heavily against them, the students would need a competent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Only one such person had emerged in years past, and Dumbledore seemed certain that Remus's condition was a danger to no one. Certainly nothing could be more dangerous to the students than being unprepared in the face of danger, and what if he were forced to re-hire Lockhart?
That last line was certainly thrown in as a guilt trip, Remus mused, surely Albus would never É well, all right, even if it was a guilt trip, it had worked. After an absence of only one year this time, Remus Lupin had yet again returned to Hogwarts.
He had initially been worried that, faced with the reality of his presence, Severus would return to their old patterns and greet him with sneers and coldness. Certainly Severus hadn't thrown a Welcome-Back-Lupin party in his honor, but neither had he been cold. After a few slightly awkward face-to-face discussions, during which Remus was absolutely certain that his heartbeats were obscuring his words, the two began a ritual of quiet, comfortable teas together in Severus's quarters most afternoons. It was progress, and progress was not to be sneezed at. Still, Remus had no intention of hurrying anything. He remained heavily skeptical about his chances of having a relationship with Severus É but not as skeptical as he had been before they were on speaking terms. Surely Severus hadn't been secretly harboring feelings for twenty-five years as Remus had, but maybe in time É maybe if Remus was patient enough É maybe Severus would grow to care for him. Now instead of trying to quash his hopes in an attempt to save himself from disappointment, he was beginning to nurse the seedling of true possibility. He could sense very easily, however, that Severus didn't trust him. Not surprising; Severus wasn't exactly a man prone to trusting quickly or at all, and the two men had been on bad ground since their teen years. All of his intuition told him that the fastest way to destroy his chances would be to try and push the process along too quickly. It might take years, but for now he had Severus's companionship, and for now that would have to be enough.
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The other Death Eaters in the room began to slowly back away from the two men who stood in the center of the circle. The older man was approaching the younger, slowly, gliding across the floor, mouth twisted into a mad smile, one hand outstretched. The younger man, pale to begin with, looked entirely devoid of color; his skin almost transparent. Still, he made no attempt to avoid the inevitable touch. He stood his ground, arms locked at his sides, eyes aimed straight forward.
Voldemort caressed Severus's forehead feather-soft with the tips of his fingers, and began to whisper an incantation.
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After an intense session of violent marking, red ink staining his fingers like the aftermath of a massacre, Snape felt calmer, steadier, grounded. Stacking the papers neatly and placing them on the corner of his desk, he glanced at the clock and realized that Lupin would be by soon for tea.
Lupin. Who must certainly be desperate for company to seek me for friendship, Snape thought. He's lonely, his circle of friends has been shattered. He's always been an intensely social person &endash; when was he ever seen without his precious friends in his youth? Perhaps he's simply turning to the only person he can find who has remained somewhat consistent over the years.
And who knew why Snape was allowing it? Ah, but that was simple enough. Less time alone equaled less time staring at the calendar. The list of people waiting to offer their companionship to Severus Snape had dwindled to an approximate sum of -12 over the past fifteen years, and Lupin was convenient.
"As I am convenient for him," Snape told himself. Surely, in time, Black's innocence would be publicly revealed, then Lupin would regain access to one of his true friends, and slowly, politely, his visits to the dungeons would taper off, leaving Snape to return to solitude.
Surely Lupin's interests in Snape would fade, given time, and he would abandon Snape just as easily as everyone else had. Never mind that Snape had grown to look forward to their quiet teas, or that Lupin was perhaps the only person whose company he actually desired. Under normal circumstances, Snape would never have allowed anyone the opportunity to have, and then choose to discard, access to him on any personal level. Right now, however, he wasn't concerned. After all, he would be abandoning Lupin long before Lupin would ever have the chance to abandon him.
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When the older man with the ghoulish smile stepped away, the younger man with the long dark hair felt dizzy. He raised his left hand to his head in an attempt to steady the feeling of persistent motion. As he did so, his eyes caught something unusual.
The Dark Mark had changed.
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Spending afternoons with Severus was always pleasant; Remus truly enjoyed the man's company when he was calm, in his element. It was not, however, easy. Even after several weeks of tea, the sight of Severus invariably incited his mind to leap from thoughts of homelovetrustsoulmatehusbandforever to thoughts of warmbarepaleskinnakedgaspingnibblingohGOD É and back. And forth. Again. Until it was all he could do to bring himself to smile calmly and say É
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"Hello, Severus."
"Good afternoon, Lupin."
As usual, Severus had the tea prepared and set out, and was already settled into his most comfortable chair with a cup. Remus helped himself, and sat in his usual spot, across from Severus. When he'd first started having teas with Severus, he'd had to bring a chair in from Severus's office every afternoon, as there had only been one chair in the den. Now whenever he arrived, he found the chair already positioned and waiting for him.
"I see you've been marking," Remus commented, nodding toward Severus's red tinted fingers. "Was that why you weren't at breakfast? Or lunch?"
"Yes it was, though I don't feel I have to explain my dining habits to you, Lupin, you're hardly my guardian."
"No, but I am your friend."
"Are you."
Remus cocked his head, his expression perplexed. "What else would I be?"
"I'm not entirely sure."
Remus frowned. He had spent enough time with Severus that he was reasonably confident in his ability to decipher when the man was being serious and when he was simply using Snape-speak, tingeing every word with sarcasm out of habit and personality. Severus's eyes were focused downward into his tea rather than fixated on Remus, challenging him to sling a comeback and keep the banter going. Remus decided to tread carefully.
"Well, you should be. That is what I am."
Severus nodded curtly, and looked up. "I've finished the latest batch of Wolfsbane potion; it's a rather large cauldron, it should last you quite a while."
The subject of friendship, apparently, was closed.
"Thank you. As always, it is much appreciated."
They chatted for a while longer about classes, students, books, the usual repertoire; there were no more moments of uncertainty, and soon Remus's concern dissipated, and he passed off the earlier exchange as one of the many disconcerting, yet inevitable, bumps along the road to gaining Severus's trust.
When the tea was finished, Remus, as always, offered to help tidy up, and Severus, as always, refused the offer.
"Same time tomorrow then, Severus?"
As Remus returned to his quarters, he was almost able to explain away the moment's hesitation that had occurred before Severus responded with his usual, "If you must, Lupin."
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"To what do I owe this unexpected visit, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore's voice tinged with uncertainty; he and Lucius may have been on the same side of the war, but that didn't necessarily make them friends, or even friendly acquaintances. Nothing short of dire would have delivered Lucius Malfoy into the office of Albus Dumbledore willingly; the younger man most definitely wasn't stopping by to borrow a cup of lemon drops.
Malfoy lingered by the window for a moment, silently watching the sunset, before turning to Dumbledore and speaking.
"There's something you need to know É"
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" É about Severus."
Remus's pulse immediately quickened. He had known as soon as Albus asked to see him in his office &endash; immediately - that something must be urgently wrong, and it took a good deal more than a trifle to so concern Albus Dumbledore.
"What is it É"
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" É Lucius?"
Malfoy gritted his teeth and seemed to consider for a moment. Then he began to speak, clearly but quickly, as if the speed at which this message was delivered were just as important as the clarity of it.
"Twenty years ago. Snape was newly twenty years old; it was his birthday, actually. It was before he came back to work with you. It was why he came back to work with you, or at least it was the impetus that made him realize what Voldemort truly was." He paused for a second. "You have to understand É"
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" É that Voldemort never much cared for Severus."
Remus sneered, the gesture reminding him briefly that he had picked up certain mannerisms from the time he spent with Severus. A wistful smile tried to emerge, but was weighted down by circumstance and crushed. "Has Voldemort ever cared for anyone?"
"After a fashion, he can be protective of his followers. Severus, however, was never one of his favored children. Severus was an incredibly useful tool, but he was never É"
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" É an arse kisser, like the rest of us. He didn't genuflect. He didn't Prostrate Himself Before The Dark Lord. He did what was asked of him, and he spoke the words that would please, but he refused to make himself small in order to amuse, as the rest of us were so willing to do at any command. Voldemort was É irked by this. But he wasn't going to kill Snape, or otherwise render him useless; Voldemort was &endash; is &endash; a lot of things; he's cruel, cold and insane &endash; but he's no fool. He knew that Snape was one of his most talented followers. So instead he decided to É"
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" É find a long-term way to punish him. To harm him without causing him pain or disabling him in any way. To É slowly degrade his sense of self worth, the confidence and presence that angered Voldemort so."
Remus was pacing now, lapping across Dumbledore's office in an effort to manage the furious, worried energy. "What did he do to him? What is wrong with Severus?"
"There's a curse," Dumbledore said softly, a bit of discomfort evident among the concerned tones of his voice. "If Severus doesn't É"
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" É consummate a relationship with someone who truly loves him before his fortieth birthday, he will die."
"Die?"
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"DIE???"
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"Die."
Dumbledore was silent for a moment. "How do we know that the curse is still active? He may have been able to remove it years ago. I'm sure that he's É"
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" É had dozens of lovers. I've known him as long as you have, and I've probably picked up more of the É juicy details of his life," Remus said. "The man was insane when he was younger, he hopped from relationship to relationship like a conquistador when he was in his twenties, he would get involved with someone, have sex with them and É move on É" Remus's words slowed as the understanding flooded through him. "Dear god."
Dumbledore was silent for a moment, before gently posing his question.
"But you never É ?"
"No. I never."
Dumbledore simply nodded.
"Still," Remus continued shakily, "we don't know that he hasn't been able to remove the curse. He slowed down when he got to his thirties, stopped letting anyone in for any reason, not even for physical flings as far as I'm aware."
Dumbledore lifted one eyebrow, and Remus flushed a bit.
"The rumor mill, you know É" he stammered. "But the point is, maybe he settled down because he found É someone."
"Or maybe he just gave up."
"Well how do we KNOW?"
"According to Lucius, there's É"
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" É a mark. Voldemort wanted there to be a physical sign of the curse, one that would only disappear when the requirements of lifting it had been fulfilled. A constant reminder that he hadn't been able to remove the curse. That he hadn't ever been truly ..."
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" É loved."
"My god," Remus whispered. Feeling a bit weak in the knees, he slowly sat down in one of Dumbledore's chairs and held his head in his hands. "What sort of mark?"
"Voldemort made it a part of É"
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" É The Dark Mark. It's easy to conceal, because Snape keeps The Dark Mark hidden anyway, and even those who see it can rarely stand to look at it closely. If they did, they'd see that one of the skull's eyes has a pair of hands inside it."
"Hands?"
"Clock hands. Counting down the years."
Lucius tapped his fingers nervously against Dumbledore's desk. "I'm truly sorry that I didn't tell you this sooner. I always thought É. Well, I assumed that he'd managed to É take care of it before now. I haven't seen much of him since he returned to Hogwarts. Now, with recent events É but I only just found out that he hadn't been able to remove the curse. I realize that it is most likely too late, considering that his birthday is É"
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" É tomorrow."
"TOMORROW? Oh god É of course it's tomorrow. Albus, I É I don't know if I can É I mean, he doesn't É how can I bring myself to É when he doesn't É"
Albus laid a comforting hand on Lupin's shoulder. "I know," he said softly, "that the next few hours will be difficult for you. I also know that your actions over their course will determine whether Severus has a chance of survival."
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Remus knocked on Severus's door, quietly at first, then with a bit more enthusiasm, then, becoming worried that perhaps he wouldn't be able to find Severus, continuing on and on until his fist was endangering the heavy wood. He stopped abruptly, leaning his head against the door, and took several breaths.
"Relax, Remus. No panicking. Be rational. Think."
Once he had managed to calm himself down off of the brief adrenaline rush, he pressed his ear against the door and stood there for several moments, as silent as he could be, and listened. Once he was sure that he heard no movement or breathing from inside the chambers, he walked quickly toward the Potions Classroom.
Maybe, he thought, he's with someone else. Someone who found out about the curse. Someone who is, as we speak, curing him. The idea brought equal parts dismay and relief.
Oh dear god no, it can't be someone else, who else could it possibly be? Who else could love him enough? He's MINE. I'm the one who loves him, and now he's finally going to see that. It's my job to save him. Mine and no one else's.
Oh dear god yes please, please don't make me do this, please don't make me go through with this farce, please don't make me endanger the chances of ever having a life with him in order to keep him alive.
His brain and his heart danced wildly back and forth between ideas and emotions while his stomach was feeling as though it had taken residence in his shoes. He had almost run straight from Dumbledore's office to the dungeons &endash; no time to waste, god it was almost 7pm already, who knew what time the curse would activate? Midnight? Dawn? There was no room for assumptions. His clothes were rumpled, his hair tangled and he knew he was covered in cold sweat. What a seductive picture, he thought wryly as he burst into the Potions Classroom without knocking.
Severus was there. Alone.
The pale man looked up from his desk where he sat, marking papers apparently, and, seeing Remus, looked back down and resumed his scribbling.
"Come in, Lupin," he offered dryly to the very-much-in Remus. Remus closed and locked the door behind him.
"Why are you here?"
"I am a professor of this institution. It is a vital part of my profession to take it upon myself to mark the assignments that the students occasionally complete and hand in to me."
"Now?"
"When else would you suggest?" Severus's eyes remained fixed on his work. Remus inhaled raggedly, and walked toward the desk.
"I know about the curse."
Severus's hand trembled for a moment. His muscles tensed. His jaw clenched. An instant. Then he immediately reverted back to his former composed state.
"Do you now."
Remus approached the desk and leaned forward, resting folded arms against it, his face inches from Severus's.
"I can remove it."
"Oh can you now. You alone have the skill to negate a curse placed by Voldemort at the height of his power."
"I didn't say I could negate it. I said I could remove it."
Severus dropped his quill and turned his face upward to face Remus. "I don't know what twisted rumor mill has been feeding you your information, Lupin, but I assure you that you cannot remove this curse. The circumstances for the removal are as specific as they are unmeetable."
"It sounded simple enough to me. You have to have sex with someone who truly loves you."
"Which is exactly why it is unremovable. No such person exists."
"I do."
Severus spoke through ground teeth, his black eyes wild with fury. "I warn you, Lupin, just because you've deigned to sit in my chambers and drink my tea doesn't mean I've let my guard down. You and your friends mocked me once and I did nothing, but I've got nothing to lose tonight - "
"I love you, Severus, I've loved you for years."
Severus stood abruptly, shoving his chair backward, and walked out from behind his desk, past Remus and toward the door.
"Where are you going?"
"I won't listen to this."
Remus turned to follow him. "You can't just walk away from it, Severus."
"I won't listen to this."
"The curse isn't going to go away unless we do something about it."
"I WON'T LISTEN TO THIS!" Severus roared, one hand on the doorknob when Remus caught up to him, grabbed him and turned him around, pinning his back against the wall.
"You will listen," Remus said, his voice even, his breath surprisingly steady, his pulse amazingly low. He knew what had to happen, he knew that he had to protect his love, and he would do whatever was necessary to fulfill his responsibility. "Or you will die, and I will not let that happen."
"What makes you think I'm so eager to live?" Severus replied, eyes locked on Remus's, motionless, not attempting to escape the other man's hold on him.
"Maybe you're not, at the moment. But maybe that could change. If you willfully and actively took your own life, I would grieve, and I would be furious with you, and I would think it was a terrible waste. But that would be your choice to make. However, I will not allow you sit there at your desk and passively let Voldemort take your life from you."
"It is not yours to allow, Lupin. It simply is, and it cannot be changed."
"It can and it will. I truly love you, and I can remove the curse."
"What if I don't believe you?"
"I know that this is sudden, I certainly didn't want to tell you like this, I wanted you to trust me first, but if you could just - "
"I don't trust you. I don't know why you're doing this, but I certainly don't believe you."
"The curse doesn't specify that you have to believe me."
"What if I say no?"
"It doesn't have to be this way, Severus," Remus said, his voice near pleading. "We're in an awkward situation, but I want to help you, I love - "
"I asked you a question."
Remus searched Severus's eyes desperately, but found nothing to help him answer this question. His own eyes fixed miserably on Severus's, and he responded, the words heavier than any he had spoken.
"I will not allow you to die because you insist on being a stubborn bastard."
Severus drew himself up to full height and glared down at Remus, who tightened his grip on the man's arms and attempted to ready himself for a struggle.
"Are you saying you would force me?"
"Don't make me do this Severus, please."
"Are you saying you would force me?"
"I'm begging you to stop."
"Are. You. Saying. You. Would. Force. Me."
"Yes."
The silence stretched miles, spanned oceans.
"Do it then."
Remus blinked. "What?"
"If you're so sure that you can remove the curse and you're so intent on saving my damned life, go ahead and try, I'm certainly not strong enough to stop you."
"You aren't going to make me force you?"
"No." Remus released his hold on Severus, who smoothed his robes. "It's enough to know that you would have."
Remus took a step back, trembling slightly. "You bastard."
"Yes."
"Damn you."
"Someone already tried, but apparently you are here with your Grand Gryffindor Courage to save the day."
Remus felt dizzy. He turned away from Severus and held his head in his hands, trying to steady himself, trying to remind himself that he had to do this, he was Severus's only chance, time wasn't moving any slower, so dammit, act now and pick up the pieces later.
Behind him, Severus was unfastening his robes. "Let's get this over with."
With that, Remus snapped. He had dreamed many different words that Severus might speak before their first time together, but that sentence was straight out of a nightmare. This he had never imagined.
He had imagined this so many times, in so many different ways, but there were always recurring themes. Always they kissed, sometimes softly, sometimes fiercely, but always with grand passion, piquing each other's arousal.
"Fine," Remus said shortly, and whirled back to face Severus, his infuriated snarl met by the other man's derisive sneer.
When the time came, they would remove each other's clothes, sometimes slowly, with great care, sometimes hurriedly, frenzied with lust, but always they took great enjoyment exploring every bit of skin, every opened button allowing for a new and wondrous revelation.
Severus hadn't entirely finished removing his robes, so Remus finished for him. Cloth was shredded. Buttons flew through the air. Just as Remus was about to tear open the other man's trousers, he had another thought.
Remus had only recently found out about Severus's past as a Death Eater; Sirius had told him, and Sirius, of course, saw it as another reason to hate the man. Remus, after taking the time to process all of the information and emotions, only found himself respecting Severus more. His fantasies now incorporated the fact that Severus would be marked. He imagined himself showing great care and tenderness toward the gruesome scar, demonstrating to Severus that he held the man's past in no contempt.
He grabbed Severus's left arm, pulling it outward and tearing the shirt sleeve open until the mark was visible. The outlines of the snake and the skull were clear and black, and, just as it had been described to him, within the skull's left eye was a small pair of hands, one pointing straight upward, the other lingering a hair behind the first, as though the time were just before midnight. Unlike the rest of the brand, however, the hands shone bright red, almost glowing.
They would whisper to each other, sometimes saying very little, but still communicating tomes. They would speak, with words and without, of their unending trust of each other, and unrelenting desire.
"I had to be sure it was true. And that it was still there."
"Because I'm terribly motivated to lie to you about it. There's nothing I want more right now than to have a half-mad werewolf interrupt my evening demanding to bugger me whether I like it or not."
"Shut up." Remus stepped toward one of the student worktables, and, with a dramatic sweep, brushed all of the tools and implements onto the floor. Then he turned again toward Severus, grabbed him by the waistband of his trousers, ripping them open and shoving them down until they fell to his ankles.
Sometimes he would gently lay his lover down on the bed, sometimes they would tumble there together, and sometimes they weren't anywhere in proximity of a bed É
Severus barely had time to kick off his shoes and step out of his trousers before Remus seized him by the shoulders, turned him around and bent him over the worktable, then began to unfasten his own clothes.
É but he always took Severus carefully. Sometimes slowly, as though they had all the time in the world, sometimes with frenzied urgency, but always with extreme care toward his love's pleasure.
He certainly made no effort to hurt Severus, and he doubted that he was, at least not much; Severus, after all, was hardly new to this position. He was much gentler than he could've been if he hadn't used every bit of his will to reign in his fury. This wasn't to say he was especially gentle, or especially concerned about Severus's comfort.
They would look into each other's eyes, rarely ever breaking contact, awash in ecstasy, soft &endash; and sometimes rather loud &endash; sounds of joy escaping their throats as they moved in unison.
Neither man made a sound. Remus gripped Severus's hips as he took him, his fingers digging so deeply that he knew the man would have bruises the next day. Severus stayed mostly still, his left cheek pressed against the wooden worktable, his hair falling over his face so that Remus couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed.
They would both orgasm, sometimes together, the intensity covering them, making them one being, one closed unit, one intimate bundle of limbs and skin and lips and constant affection.
Remus came, exhaling deeply, his relief more mental than physical. Severus snarled, his voice guttural, "Are you quite finished?"
Afterward, they would cuddle closely together, Remus still inside Severus, bodies and souls linked, and maybe they would speak quietly of their feelings, their future É or maybe they would simply join hands and drift blissfully off to sleep.
Remus pulled out as soon as he finished, causing Severus to inhale sharply. Turning immediately away from Severus, he pulled up and fastened his trousers. Severus, moving a bit gingerly, turned and placed his feet on the floor, still leaning against the table, keeping the Dark Mark faced away from him throughout the maneuver.
"Aren't you going to look and be sure you've done your job, fulfilled your entirely honorable intentions?" Severus asked, clearly trying to mask the slight shakiness of his voice.
"I don't have to look," Remus replied, still facing away from the table as he straightened his clothing.
Severus set his jaw and remained motionless for a moment, then drew up his left arm and turned his eyes toward the mark. It appeared, for the first time since his teenage years, exactly as it had when it was first burned into his skin.
The hands were gone.
Severus gaped openly, the fingers of his right hand tracing the skull's left eye where they had been for so long. When he looked up, Remus was unlocking the classroom door. Barely able to speak, his word came out a torn whisper.
"Remus."
The man froze, but did not turn around. Then he placed his hand on the doorknob. As he left the room, he spoke two last words before closing the door behind him.
"Goodnight, Snape."
