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: Venomous Moon
Author: Gedia Kacela
E-Mail: a_thing_with_feathers@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Hatred can brew strange things, and even werewolves have their weaknesses.
Disclaimer: If this were actually mine, I'd be out shopping at Saks. But instead, I'm sticking with Wal-Mart, at least for the time being.
Notes: A one-shot *runs from the RBCFH* vignette dedicated to Bohemian Storm on her birthday. Happy Birthday, Love! ;-)

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Severus Snape hated Remus Lupin. He hated him. His very blood boiled whenever he laid his eyes on the miserable werewolf, with his tattered robes and grey-speckled hair. He wanted to put off the restraints he had laid upon himself after leaving Voldemort and curse Lupin with every single Unforgivable. He wanted to hear him beg for forgiveness, to crawl on his knees and tear at his tortured skin until it bled.

So why did he continue to watch as Lupin stripped off his outer robe and began to undo the buttons on his shirt?

His black eyes traveled hungrily over the thin form undressing in front of him, as he internally berated himself for his interest. Why was he so bloody weak when it came to Lupin? No matter how high his hatred ran, he felt shaky whenever Remus entered his rooms.

The worn-out shirt fell softly to the ground with a whisper of sound, revealing smooth, pale skin and making Severus shift in his chair. The werewolf cocked his head to the side. "Something wrong?"

"I hate you," he whispered, his voice reverberating through Lupin's chest.

Remus bit back a smile and bent to pick up his discarded shirt, slipping his arms through the sleeves. "Then I suppose I shouldn't waste my time here. I dare say I could use the time to write next week's test." Slowly, he began to button the shirt back up.

In a second, Snape had left his chair and stood before Lupin, his hands clasped tightly over the other man's, gripping them almost painfully. "Did I say you could go?" the Potions Master growled, his hair softly falling across his glistening eyes.

"No," he whispered softly, his breath rustling several of the black hairs that had fallen down across his cheek. "But I merely assumed..."

"Never assume anything with me, Lupin," he retorted silkily. "Your thought processes are not quite high enough to accommodate such a mundane task." His hands had dropped Remus' and were now adeptly undoing the buttons that Remus had managed to redo. Long fingers found their way inside the shirt, running up his sides and placing his palms flat against his chest. The touch was almost shockingly cold in the dungeons, making Lupin gasp. Severus slid his hands up and under the shirt, pushing it off his shoulders to fall to the floor again. He leaned in close. "And do not attempt again to put it back on until I say you can." His voice, laced with snake-like venom, sent chills up Lupin's spine.

His hand cupped the base of Remus' skull, tipping his head back as he claimed the werewolf's mouth with his own. Hatred or not, he loved kissing the man. He tasted... saccharine, with traces of the wolfsbane he had recently drunk. Snape's tongue darted out to run lightly across his lover's lips, taking with it any last traces of the sugary dessert that had been eaten after dinner. Lupin's mouth opened slightly, longing to deepen the kiss, but Snape pulled abruptly away.

He did love being in control, didn't he? Perhaps that was why the demure man loved to be with Severus. He felt weak around Snape, drawn to him like the tide to the moon. But what a moon... one just as venomous and dangerous as the one that hung, half-full, in the skies outside. Severus, though able to calm his inner monster through wolfsbane, aroused a different kind of demon within him.

And that creature was not so easily sated.

Remus licked his lips for the remnants of the kiss, for the lingering taste of Severus. "Shall we take this elsewhere?" he purred, advancing towards Snape.

He batted his hands away with a glare. "Won't you grow up, Lupin? I believe we are past childish insinuations."

Golden eyes searched black ones. "Well, if we are 'growing up,' then won't you call me by my *first* name? Or is that reserved for our post-coital relationship? Surely it wouldn't kill you now, would it?"

"It might," he replied blandly, turning away. "Get into the bedroom."

Lupin smiled to himself. It was better than nothing.

Snape shrugged off his robe, glancing over his shoulder to watch the retreating form. Damn him. Damn him straight to hell. After laying the outer cloak over a chair, his fingers, trained to the task, quickly undid the black buttons of his black shirt. That article of clothing soon joined the first.

Leaving his buckled shoes lying next to the chair, he turned and slowly made his way towards his bedchambers, untucking his stiff white shirt from his pants as he walked. He paused at the door, watching as Lupin bent over, his body curving deliciously, to remove his shoes and stockings.

There was no denying the longing that burned in Severus' gut. There was no method of lying to himself and saying that he didn't want this, because he knew it wasn't true. He wanted to touch and caress and kiss and claim and ravish.

Aware that he was being stared at, Lupin straightened and turned around. With a coy smirk, he advanced towards Severus and began to unbutton the white shirt that hugged Snape's neck. Snape tensed, raising a hand to lay on Remus' arm. "Really, Lupin, I am quite capable..." his voice trailed off as Lupin's lips caressed the hollow of his throat.

With each button he loosed, he pressed a kiss to the spot, slowly making his way down Snape's torso until he was kneeling in front of him, undoing the last button and lavishing one last kiss on the firm stomach that hitched with constricted breathing. His tongue trailed lightly along the hem of the black pants as his pale hands rested lightly on Snape's hips.

Severus kneaded his fingers into the short blonde hair, dragging him upwards until they were once again face-to-face. He took a step forward, leaning against Remus so that he could relish the feeling of their bare chests pressed together, and bent his head to kiss him again.

This time he allowed the werewolf to deepen the kiss, allowed their tongues to tangle together, allowed Remus to lead him towards the bed. He even allowed his hatred to be dissolved by the other man's touch, if only for tonight.

Tomorrow he could hate Lupin again. Or maybe... maybe the day after.

But as Lupin's hands fumbled with his belt buckle, he decided that perhaps, just perhaps... his burning hatred would be postponed until further notice.

END