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: Cake
Author: Minx
Email: miraminx@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17
Category: PWP
Summary: Lupin eats dessert. Snape is intrigued. Takes place several months after "Lost Feeling." Response to Telanu's first line challenge.
Disclaimer: They're all JKR's. I just take 'em out for a little fresh air.

"We need to have sex right now."

Remus Lupin blinked. He'd been reading when a familiar, peremptory knock sounded at his door. When he'd opened it, Severus Snape had swept in, locked the door, cast a silencing charm, and made his pronouncement. The dark eyes were now boring a hole in him. "Er. May I ask why? A strange curse of some kind, perhaps?"

Snape advanced on him. "Several reasons. First, it's been a week." He began stripping Lupin efficiently. "Secondly, yesterday in the staff meeting this lock of hair--" he touched the piece of hair in question-- "kept falling forward over your cheek--" he touched the cheek. "But the most important reason--" Lupin found himself in his boxers-- "is that you ate dessert tonight." Snape flung off his own robe, revealing himself to be naked and fully aroused.

Lupin blinked again. "I ate dessert."

"Yes." Snape pulled him into a crushing embrace. The hot mouth descended upon his. Lupin inhaled the scent of his lover's excitement, letting it spark his own; he'd been half-hard from the moment Snape came into the room. Something about the way the robes swirled around his legs. Imagining Snape, nude and hard under the robe as he walked through the halls, made Lupin moan. "Yes," Snape repeated, shoving off Lupin's boxers and dragging him to the bed. "The chocolate cake."

Suddenly Lupin was on his hands and knees on the bed with two of Snape's oiled fingers up his ass. He groaned. The fingers moved in and out. "You had quite a large piece of cake, in fact." A third finger. "What you did to it can only be called obscene." The fingers withdrew, and Lupin felt a familiar hardness pressing against him. "You put the fork with the cake on it slowly into your mouth." The hard cock slid in deliberately. "You savored it." A warm hand wrapped around Lupin's cock and squeezed lightly. "You pulled the fork out of your mouth." The withdrawal was even more excruciatingly leisurely than the entry. "You chewed and swallowed the cake." The hand on his cock didn't move, but the long thumb skated over the head, already leaking. "It took you fourteen bites to eat your piece of cake." The slow entry. "Fork in mouth." Light squeeze. "Savoring." The slower withdrawal. "Fork out." The thumb circled over the head of his prick. "Swallowing."

Lupin moaned. A drop of sweat rolled down his face, dripped off his chin. He tried to move, but Snape held him still with a firm hand on his hip. "Twelve more bites." Snape repeated the process again, and again, and again. "After five bites, I didn't know if I wanted to be your fork, or your cake." Over and over, the glacially slow thrusts, the light touches to his cock. Lupin was whimpering by the time Snape stopped. "Fourteen bites." No movement. Lupin writhed frantically. "You wiped your mouth on your white napkin." The hand on his cock stroked up and down once. "I wanted to be the napkin." Another stroke, and another. Slowly the pace sped up until Snape was fucking him full force, fisting his cock. "I wanted to be anything you touched." The smoky voice went on. "To touch you any way I could. To fuck your mouth, your ass. To have any part of you." Lupin felt the prickle of orgasm racing through his body, into his balls, out through his cock. He started to come. Abruptly Snape withdrew completely; a second later, he took his hand away. Stifling a howl, Lupin came, ass clenching around emptiness, cock shooting into air. The warm, dark voice. "That's just right, just how I wanted to see you. Coming hard."

Lupin fell forward into his pillow. He had a brief moment there; then Snape flipped him over, slid two fingers into him, and sank his mouth over Lupin's still-hard cock. Lupin struggled to get away from the overwhelming sensations as Snape ruthlessly stimulated his sensitive cock and balls. He couldn't figure out if it was painful or not; the long fingers stroked over his prostate with unerring accuracy, the hot mouth sucked him firmly, the pointed tongue vibrated against the underside of his cock, another hand fondled his balls. Lupin pulled away from the probing fingers, shoving his cock harder into Snape's mouth. He cried out. Snape drew back, leaving his fingers inside, and stared at him. "Yes. This is what I wanted to see. You, fucked and wanting more." The fingers eased out slowly. A frozen moment. Then Lupin pushed his hips forward helplessly. A small smile flickered over Snape's face. He pulled Lupin's legs over his shoulders and shoved his cock in hard.

A distant part of Lupin's mind was grateful for the silencing charm as he shouted again. Snape was fucking him intensely, with swift, hard, deep strokes. He grabbed at Snape's shoulders, tangled one hand in the soft, dark hair, ran the other over his lover's chest, pinching lightly at the sensitive nipples. He reached down to stroke his own cock, but Snape knocked his hand away. "That's mine." The slick hand wrapped around him and started pumping. And the smoky voice was speaking once more. "I wasn't the only one who noticed your little display with the cake. Half the seventh-years were gaping at you, and some of the more precocious sixth-years. But I'm the only one who gets to see this," possessively. Lupin tried to stop listening to the words and just hear the voice pouring over him. "The only one to see you laid out like a delectable, fuckable treat. The only one--"

"Sev!"

The dark eyes lifted. "Mm?" Sudden realization. He stopped moving. "Oh, god."

"No, it's--" Lupin was still achingly hard. He propped himself on his elbows so he could kiss the other man. "Just. Don't. Say. That." In between reassuring kisses. "But keep. Talking."

A deep breath. "Yes." Snape began thrusting in and out once more. "I'll tell you how hard I got watching you eat the cake. That fork... Your lips..." Lupin let himself get lost in the sea of sensations: the cock impaling him, the hand caressing him, the liquid opal voice murmuring. "Want to fuck you, love fucking you, love it--" The wave swept over him, crested, broke; pleasure poured through him and he howled again. Snape threw his head back and gave one last hard thrust, biting at his lip. Lupin let his legs fall to Snape's waist. The other man slid in and out languidly a few more times, then pulled out carefully. He hovered over Lupin for a moment before falling to the side. Lupin turned and drew Snape into his arms. Snape tensed briefly, then relaxed against him. He buried his face into the soft black hair and inhaled the familiar scent of mint and lemon. Suddenly he was drowning in affection/concern/satisfaction/worry/love/hope--he gasped and drew back.

"What is it?" Snape was staring at him. A shift in the dark eyes. "Tell me you didn't--"

Lupin nodded slowly. "I didn't mean to." Smelling other people's emotions was something he rarely did without permission.

"Shit." The curse fell unexpectedly from Snape's lips. "I'm sorry." A sigh. He muttered, "And everything was going so well."

Lupin petted the dark hair. "I just. I can't, Sev." For a moment he almost wished he could. Could hope. Could love. Almost.

Snape lifted a shaking hand to Lupin's face and rested the long fingers on his cheek. "I know."

Lupin turned his face slightly and kissed the trembling fingers. "But I--can we--" He started over. "Can we still be together? Like this?"

The long thumb stroked his lips gently. "Hmm... Are you referring by any chance to the mind-blowing sex? Or simply the opportunity to guzzle all my good scotch?"

He smiled under the caressing hand. He knew a yes when he heard one. He pulled up the covers with a wave of his hand and curled around the other man. On the verge of sleep, he gave a tentative sniff. The unfamiliar, unexpected tang of /hope/ filled him again. Briefly, he let himself savor the emotion he had never thought to experience again, even second-hand. His last thought before sleep overtook him was of ways he could persuade the house-elves to serve that chocolate cake more frequently.