Notes: This is it. Anyone who isn't comfortable with things getting steamy
had better turn away now. Yes, now. Go on. Don't think I can't see you
there, peering out from behind the sofa. Get away from mummy and daddy's pc
and go to bed. . . Are they gone? Good. Onwards.
Finally it was Friday evening. Only one more day and Wolfgang would be able to claim his victory. He took this knowledge to dinner with him, and would have gloated about it to Lucius, had he shown up.
"Where the hell's he gone?" Wolf demanded, taking his seat at the Slytherin table.
Bellatrix gave him a look. "Oh, you mean you two aren't literally joined at the hip after all?"
"I don't go in for that stuff."
She ignored this. "I don't know where he is. Jacob, where's Lucius?"
Another Slytherin boy with jet black hair and several piercings glanced the length of the table and shrugged. "He was in Arithmancy. Then he buggered off somewhere I guess."
"Bloody typical," muttered Wolfgang. Almost without thinking he looked down to the Gryffindor table, where there was an empty chair between Black and Potter.
"Was there something you wanted to talk about?" asked Lucius briskly, trying not to let his voice go up an octave.
"There may have been." Lupin stared at a portrait behind Lucius' head. "But I've forgotten it."
"Oh. How careless."
They were in the prefects' common room, which was empty at this time of day. No one wanted to spend the summer indoors anyway, and Lucius was pretty sure no one was going to walk in. Lupin had approached him in the corridor and asked him if he could spare a few moments. Lucius, of course, could. So he had led the way, and now here they were. If he was perfectly honest, Lucius would have admitted that he was feeling incredibly awkward. The tables had been turned, and it was Lupin regarding him with a cool, calculating stare while he shifted nervously and wondered if he was going to get out of this alive.
Lupin strolled past Lucius until he was looking closely at the picture on the wall. He didn't take his eyes off the still life. "I've been watching you watching me, Malfoy."
"Oh," said Lucius, noncommittally.
"I wondered why you were doing it, but then I decided." He seemed to notice something beneath the picture which Lucius couldn't see. His nose almost touched the canvas as he peered critically at it.
"Decided what?"
"Oh." Lupin waved a vague hand as he spun away from the picture. "That I didn't care either way. You can tell me if you like, but I'm not interested."
"I'd rather not. But. Well, since Sunday a number of things have been made apparent to me which previously I had never noticed."
Lupin allowed himself a small smile. "Oh yes?"
"You're worth more than the low-lives you hang around with, for a start."
Lupin's face went wooden. "You can't say that. James, Peter and Sirius are everything to me. They give me confidence to be myself, taught me not to hide from society. If it wasn't for them, I certainly wouldn't have the guts to stand here and do this."
"Do what. . ." began Lucius, but the words died on his lips as Lupin took the step between them which turned a polite distance into intimacy. The werewolf's slender hands touched his chest and he felt his breath dry up in his throat. Lupin leaned up, almost standing on tip-toes, his hands sliding under Lucius' hair and around his neck. "You can't do tha–"Lucius began to protest, but warm, chafed lips were suddenly pressed against his own and he realised that, yes, Lupin could do that and there wasn't a power in the world which would stop him.
The first thing which became obvious was that Lupin did not know how to kiss someone. Lucius got the impression that maybe he had tried it once or twice before but it hadn't been much to remember, and now that he wanted to enjoy himself he couldn't remember how it was done. His lips were red and the skin was dry until someone's tongue sorted this out. Kissing those parched lips should not have been a pleasant experience, but the roughness of the skin was strangely exciting. He found himself thinking briefly of Bellatrix, who put hours of effort each morning into making sure her lips were smooth, soft and well-nourished, but could never have made him shiver all over like one clumsy kiss from Remus did.
The second thing which became apparent was that despite Lupin's complete lack of experience it was the Gryffindor who was going to be controlling things. This, Lucius could not tolerate, and he decided that if this was going to be made clear - and it was - then now was the time to do it.
"No, no," he murmured, gently pushing Remus off him. "You can't do that. You don't know how. And besides, I'm meant to be the seductress. Seducer. Whatever. No!" he insisted, as Remus moved in again and ran his tongue tantalisingly over Lucius' lower lip. "I thought you'd be shy, but no, you have to go and surprise me again. Let me do it my way or sod off. I won't be made a fool of again over you." He was surprised at his own sharp tone, but he hadn't realised how annoyed he had been at Lupin for making the first moves. This was his challenge, and it wasn't fair if Lupin ruined his entire week's work by being as compliant as a giggling sixth year after a few too many butter beers.
Remus shrugged. "Have it your way if you must," he said. "I suppose."
"I will," snapped Lucius. It was even more unfair that Lupin's entire attitude only served to excite him more. Well he wasn't going to get away with causing this fluttering sensation in his stomach, or the jelly-like quality of his knees right now. Disciplinary action was required, he thought with a smirk.
"What's funny?" asked Remus.
"Nothing." Lucius cupped his hand round the werewolf's cheek, running his thumb over the smooth skin. "I just got a bit of a premonition. I saw the look on your face twenty minutes from now." He leaned in for a few brief kisses before he heard footsteps outside. He froze and took a step back, but the footsteps went straight past the room. Nonetheless he took Remus by the hand (and for years after he couldn't figure out why he had done that) and dragged him into the prefects' private bathroom, locking the door securely behind them.
Remus glanced quickly round the bathroom. It was very large and contained an enormous swimming-pool-like bath, as well as dozens of fluffy towels, a set of showers, and a lavatory block. But Lucius was already advancing on him, and his attention switched back to the blond.
"I've changed my mind," said Lupin. "I do want to know why you've been watching me all week."
Lucius chuckled. "Because I wanted to do this to you, of course." His hand stroked Remus' thigh right up to his hip. The werewolf shivered with delight.
"So why me?" Remus asked as Lucius stooped to kiss the delicate skin by his ear. "There must be some reason."
"Probably," murmured Lucius, "but I don't remember now." The breath against Remus' neck made him shiver. Lucius moved to kiss his lips, and only now did Remus realise it wasn't just Lucius' breath which was uncomfortably cool.
"You're so cold," Remus murmured.
"I know. Won't be for long."
Deftly, Lucius removed the young prefect's shirt in one fluid movement. His eyes widened in horrified surprise; Remus' chest was riddled with white scars of varying length and age. One deep, vivid purple scar ran from his shoulder to his hip. Lucius was no expert, but he knew an animal claw-mark when he saw one.
"Jesus Christ," he murmured.
Impulsively Remus tried to cover his chest and stomach with his arms, but Lucius grabbed both of his wrists and forced them back to his sides. Remus raised his chin defiantly, and Lucius found himself in awe of the pride shining in the werewolf's eyes.
"What did this?" Lucius asked, pretending he didn't have a clue.
"I did. I. . .lose my temper sometimes."
Lucius ran his fingers along the length of the deep purple scar. "Does it hurt?"
"Not any more."
The end of the scar ran below Remus' belt. Gently, far more conscientiously than ever before, Lucius removed the belt and the werewolf's trousers. He finished tracing the line of the scar, which required him to slide his fingertips under the elastic of Remus' pants. His other hand slid round Remus' waist, pulling him close. He kissed the younger man with a strange passion that he'd never felt before, not even after years of chasing then finally wining Bellatrix Black. Remus tasted wonderful; a cocktail of chocolate, coffee, and something else, something musky and almost feral. Lucius didn't wonder what it was, and he didn't care about the scars. He ran his hands over the pale skin, and suddenly discovered a semi-fresh wound on Remus' shoulder blade. The werewolf flinched with the pain, and dug his nails into Lucius' back. The blond purred with delight, and pushed Remus backwards. They sunk down into the pile of soft white towels in the corner, but as they moved to get comfortable Remus managed to push Lucius onto his back, then straddled him, sitting on his stomach.
"I told you already –"Lucius began, trying to push himself up on his elbows, but Remus put a firm hand on his chest.
"I'd still quite like to know why you picked me," said Remus in the tones of a high-flying businessman encountering an old school bully twenty years later in a bar.
Lucius let him drop back onto the towels. "No one's ever asked me that before. They don't even think to wonder until afterwards."
"Oh." Remus absent-mindedly undid the first button of Lucius' shirt with his right hand, while his left hung idly by his side, the fingers lightly stroking the exposed skin of Lucius' side. "So. Are you going to tell me why?"
"No."
"Oh, well." Remus began to stand up, but Lucius' hand shot out and grabbed him. Remus gave him a satisfied grin. "Tell me why. I'd hate to have to walk out on you of all people."
Lucius glared, but there was no use to it. Remus was completely irresistible when he gave him that matter-of-fact look. The fact that he had shifted his weight so that he was now balancing on Lucius' hips had, of course, nothing to do with it.
"It was a bet," croaked Lucius. His eyes widened at the hoarseness of his own voice. He cleared his throat. "A bet, okay? To see if I could seduce you. Happy now?"
In fact, Remus looked delighted. He leaned down to Kiss Lucius lightly on the lips, but the Slytherin wasn't having any coyness. His fingers entwined themselves in Remus' hair and he pulled him down into a deep, passionate kiss. Remus' hand slid between them, undoing the rest of Lucius' shirt buttons, then without realising he dug his nails into the blond's chest. Lucius tried not to gasp; it would be undignified. This boy didn't know what he was doing, yet the interesting bulge developing in Lucius' trousers suggested that Remus didn't need to know what he was doing. Lucius made another desperate attempt to rectify the situation; he put an arm firmly round Remus back and rolled him over, pinning him to the towel-covered floor. Remus grinned up at him, then attempted the reverse the manoeuvre.
"Persistent, aren't you?" growled Lucius. He grabbed Remus' arms roughly and pinned them down, satisfied when he finally saw a glimmer of fear in Remus' eyes. The young werewolf was obviously worried what he had got himself in for. "I'm not going to hurt you," he added after a moment's thought, "but you've got to behave yourself. Got it?" Remus nodded, the panic fading slightly. Lucius kissed him again, but softly. A new sensation had taken over him, and he recognised it as guilt. Of course he had intended to frighten Remus, but now he had, he regretted it. There was something vulnerable about the werewolf, beneath that cool, composed exterior, and Lucius knew it was not his place to take advantage of that.
Remus stretched out a lazy hand and tugged at the ribbon binding Lucius' hair, as the Slytherin continued to place hesitant, gentle kisses across his face. A shower of white-gold hair rained down around them, and Remus worked his fingers into it. Greedily, he sought out Lucius' lips with his own, and at the same time he wove the black ribbon around the fingers of his right hand.
"I'm keeping this," he murmured.
"You do that."
Remus' grin caused Lucius to completely forget that niggling guilt in his mind, and he turned ravenous once more. The remains of their clothing were flung aside, some of it landing, rather unfortunately, in the bath. Remus found this hysterically funny and even Lucius had to grin before moving in to finally claim his prize. He ran his tongue all the way down Lupin's stomach, occasionally nipping hungrily at the skin. There was something about those scars which thrilled him, and also something about the very fact that the boy was a werewolf. As a rule Lucius didn't approve of half- breeds, but delicious, naked, beautiful ones were a clear-cut exception. He could definitely forgive Remus for turning into a wolf every full moon if it was the reason why he let out those delightful little yips and yelps as Lucius explored him thoroughly. And he was almost entirely sure the lycanthropy was the biggest turn-on for him; not the fine structure of Remus' body, not his warm yet questioning gaze, not the soft blond-brown hair which curled down to his shoulders. However, within moments he had completely forgotten what was so desirable about a werewolf, and could only focus on what was desirable about Remus J. Lupin.
The werewolf was almost totally compliant, only trying once more to take control. Lucius was still having none of it. This was his challenge, and it would be his victory. He could not let Lupin think he had won some kind of game; besides, the game had ended long ago. He was not playing now. This was not fun, it was something essential to him, like air or water. He had to have Lupin, and that was the be all and end all. He never stopped to think what would happen once he'd had the boy. Would these bizarre compulsions go away? Would he stop thinking about Lupin first thing in the morning and last thing at night? Would he be able to simply move on to the next person, utterly unmoved by Lupin or the conquest? None of these questions so much as entered his mind until the werewolf's strained cries faded, and Lupin lay still under him, panting and exhausted, the black ribbon still twisted round his fingers and trailing across his chest. Lucius rested his head on Lupin, brushing the ribbon out of his way. He could feel the quick heart-beat in that thin, scar-raked chest, and it made him lustful again, but Lupin looked exhausted. It was, after all, not even a week since full moon.
"Wow," said Lupin eventually. Lucius raised his head and glared at him.
"Is that it? Wow?"
"I don't say wow that often."
"Oh goodie." Lucius slumped back against the towels, but he gazed back up at Remus. The boy swept his hair out of his face and tied it back with Lucius' ribbon. Something occurred to the Slytherin.
"Remus?"
"Hmm?"
Lucius propped himself up on his elbow. "What's the J stand for?"
Remus grinned. "Just fabulous."
"It doesn't."
"No. It's John."
"How very unimaginative of a couple who managed to come up with the name Remus," Lucius drawled. Remus shrugged. He reached out and stroked his fingers along the curve of Lucius' jaw.
"Thank you," he said finally.
"For what?"
"Not freaking out. The scars, I mean."
Something else completely new and as yet unidentified took over Lucius' conscious mind. "They're beautiful, like the rest of you," he murmured, and instantly wondered why. Remus was giving him an odd look; he sat bolt upright and cast around for his trousers and underwear, pulling it on swiftly.
"What're you doing?" Suddenly Remus was a sixteen year old boy again, and he was confused. He gazed at Lucius, a faint line forming on his brow.
"Going. I'm sorry. I have to be somewhere, completely forgot."
Remus watched from the now rather scattered heap of towels as Lucius fished his shirt out of the bath. He wrung out most of the water, and then pulled the sodden garment on. He didn't bother to do up the buttons.
"Don't go."
Lucius glanced over his shoulder at his latest victim. In body and mind Remus was now very much a man, but emotionally he was immature. Another pang of guilt swept over Lucius, the second today and in his life. It would also be his last.
"Maybe I'll see you later," he semi-promised, turning on his heel. Remus could do nothing as he watched the bathroom door close behind him.
Finally it was Friday evening. Only one more day and Wolfgang would be able to claim his victory. He took this knowledge to dinner with him, and would have gloated about it to Lucius, had he shown up.
"Where the hell's he gone?" Wolf demanded, taking his seat at the Slytherin table.
Bellatrix gave him a look. "Oh, you mean you two aren't literally joined at the hip after all?"
"I don't go in for that stuff."
She ignored this. "I don't know where he is. Jacob, where's Lucius?"
Another Slytherin boy with jet black hair and several piercings glanced the length of the table and shrugged. "He was in Arithmancy. Then he buggered off somewhere I guess."
"Bloody typical," muttered Wolfgang. Almost without thinking he looked down to the Gryffindor table, where there was an empty chair between Black and Potter.
"Was there something you wanted to talk about?" asked Lucius briskly, trying not to let his voice go up an octave.
"There may have been." Lupin stared at a portrait behind Lucius' head. "But I've forgotten it."
"Oh. How careless."
They were in the prefects' common room, which was empty at this time of day. No one wanted to spend the summer indoors anyway, and Lucius was pretty sure no one was going to walk in. Lupin had approached him in the corridor and asked him if he could spare a few moments. Lucius, of course, could. So he had led the way, and now here they were. If he was perfectly honest, Lucius would have admitted that he was feeling incredibly awkward. The tables had been turned, and it was Lupin regarding him with a cool, calculating stare while he shifted nervously and wondered if he was going to get out of this alive.
Lupin strolled past Lucius until he was looking closely at the picture on the wall. He didn't take his eyes off the still life. "I've been watching you watching me, Malfoy."
"Oh," said Lucius, noncommittally.
"I wondered why you were doing it, but then I decided." He seemed to notice something beneath the picture which Lucius couldn't see. His nose almost touched the canvas as he peered critically at it.
"Decided what?"
"Oh." Lupin waved a vague hand as he spun away from the picture. "That I didn't care either way. You can tell me if you like, but I'm not interested."
"I'd rather not. But. Well, since Sunday a number of things have been made apparent to me which previously I had never noticed."
Lupin allowed himself a small smile. "Oh yes?"
"You're worth more than the low-lives you hang around with, for a start."
Lupin's face went wooden. "You can't say that. James, Peter and Sirius are everything to me. They give me confidence to be myself, taught me not to hide from society. If it wasn't for them, I certainly wouldn't have the guts to stand here and do this."
"Do what. . ." began Lucius, but the words died on his lips as Lupin took the step between them which turned a polite distance into intimacy. The werewolf's slender hands touched his chest and he felt his breath dry up in his throat. Lupin leaned up, almost standing on tip-toes, his hands sliding under Lucius' hair and around his neck. "You can't do tha–"Lucius began to protest, but warm, chafed lips were suddenly pressed against his own and he realised that, yes, Lupin could do that and there wasn't a power in the world which would stop him.
The first thing which became obvious was that Lupin did not know how to kiss someone. Lucius got the impression that maybe he had tried it once or twice before but it hadn't been much to remember, and now that he wanted to enjoy himself he couldn't remember how it was done. His lips were red and the skin was dry until someone's tongue sorted this out. Kissing those parched lips should not have been a pleasant experience, but the roughness of the skin was strangely exciting. He found himself thinking briefly of Bellatrix, who put hours of effort each morning into making sure her lips were smooth, soft and well-nourished, but could never have made him shiver all over like one clumsy kiss from Remus did.
The second thing which became apparent was that despite Lupin's complete lack of experience it was the Gryffindor who was going to be controlling things. This, Lucius could not tolerate, and he decided that if this was going to be made clear - and it was - then now was the time to do it.
"No, no," he murmured, gently pushing Remus off him. "You can't do that. You don't know how. And besides, I'm meant to be the seductress. Seducer. Whatever. No!" he insisted, as Remus moved in again and ran his tongue tantalisingly over Lucius' lower lip. "I thought you'd be shy, but no, you have to go and surprise me again. Let me do it my way or sod off. I won't be made a fool of again over you." He was surprised at his own sharp tone, but he hadn't realised how annoyed he had been at Lupin for making the first moves. This was his challenge, and it wasn't fair if Lupin ruined his entire week's work by being as compliant as a giggling sixth year after a few too many butter beers.
Remus shrugged. "Have it your way if you must," he said. "I suppose."
"I will," snapped Lucius. It was even more unfair that Lupin's entire attitude only served to excite him more. Well he wasn't going to get away with causing this fluttering sensation in his stomach, or the jelly-like quality of his knees right now. Disciplinary action was required, he thought with a smirk.
"What's funny?" asked Remus.
"Nothing." Lucius cupped his hand round the werewolf's cheek, running his thumb over the smooth skin. "I just got a bit of a premonition. I saw the look on your face twenty minutes from now." He leaned in for a few brief kisses before he heard footsteps outside. He froze and took a step back, but the footsteps went straight past the room. Nonetheless he took Remus by the hand (and for years after he couldn't figure out why he had done that) and dragged him into the prefects' private bathroom, locking the door securely behind them.
Remus glanced quickly round the bathroom. It was very large and contained an enormous swimming-pool-like bath, as well as dozens of fluffy towels, a set of showers, and a lavatory block. But Lucius was already advancing on him, and his attention switched back to the blond.
"I've changed my mind," said Lupin. "I do want to know why you've been watching me all week."
Lucius chuckled. "Because I wanted to do this to you, of course." His hand stroked Remus' thigh right up to his hip. The werewolf shivered with delight.
"So why me?" Remus asked as Lucius stooped to kiss the delicate skin by his ear. "There must be some reason."
"Probably," murmured Lucius, "but I don't remember now." The breath against Remus' neck made him shiver. Lucius moved to kiss his lips, and only now did Remus realise it wasn't just Lucius' breath which was uncomfortably cool.
"You're so cold," Remus murmured.
"I know. Won't be for long."
Deftly, Lucius removed the young prefect's shirt in one fluid movement. His eyes widened in horrified surprise; Remus' chest was riddled with white scars of varying length and age. One deep, vivid purple scar ran from his shoulder to his hip. Lucius was no expert, but he knew an animal claw-mark when he saw one.
"Jesus Christ," he murmured.
Impulsively Remus tried to cover his chest and stomach with his arms, but Lucius grabbed both of his wrists and forced them back to his sides. Remus raised his chin defiantly, and Lucius found himself in awe of the pride shining in the werewolf's eyes.
"What did this?" Lucius asked, pretending he didn't have a clue.
"I did. I. . .lose my temper sometimes."
Lucius ran his fingers along the length of the deep purple scar. "Does it hurt?"
"Not any more."
The end of the scar ran below Remus' belt. Gently, far more conscientiously than ever before, Lucius removed the belt and the werewolf's trousers. He finished tracing the line of the scar, which required him to slide his fingertips under the elastic of Remus' pants. His other hand slid round Remus' waist, pulling him close. He kissed the younger man with a strange passion that he'd never felt before, not even after years of chasing then finally wining Bellatrix Black. Remus tasted wonderful; a cocktail of chocolate, coffee, and something else, something musky and almost feral. Lucius didn't wonder what it was, and he didn't care about the scars. He ran his hands over the pale skin, and suddenly discovered a semi-fresh wound on Remus' shoulder blade. The werewolf flinched with the pain, and dug his nails into Lucius' back. The blond purred with delight, and pushed Remus backwards. They sunk down into the pile of soft white towels in the corner, but as they moved to get comfortable Remus managed to push Lucius onto his back, then straddled him, sitting on his stomach.
"I told you already –"Lucius began, trying to push himself up on his elbows, but Remus put a firm hand on his chest.
"I'd still quite like to know why you picked me," said Remus in the tones of a high-flying businessman encountering an old school bully twenty years later in a bar.
Lucius let him drop back onto the towels. "No one's ever asked me that before. They don't even think to wonder until afterwards."
"Oh." Remus absent-mindedly undid the first button of Lucius' shirt with his right hand, while his left hung idly by his side, the fingers lightly stroking the exposed skin of Lucius' side. "So. Are you going to tell me why?"
"No."
"Oh, well." Remus began to stand up, but Lucius' hand shot out and grabbed him. Remus gave him a satisfied grin. "Tell me why. I'd hate to have to walk out on you of all people."
Lucius glared, but there was no use to it. Remus was completely irresistible when he gave him that matter-of-fact look. The fact that he had shifted his weight so that he was now balancing on Lucius' hips had, of course, nothing to do with it.
"It was a bet," croaked Lucius. His eyes widened at the hoarseness of his own voice. He cleared his throat. "A bet, okay? To see if I could seduce you. Happy now?"
In fact, Remus looked delighted. He leaned down to Kiss Lucius lightly on the lips, but the Slytherin wasn't having any coyness. His fingers entwined themselves in Remus' hair and he pulled him down into a deep, passionate kiss. Remus' hand slid between them, undoing the rest of Lucius' shirt buttons, then without realising he dug his nails into the blond's chest. Lucius tried not to gasp; it would be undignified. This boy didn't know what he was doing, yet the interesting bulge developing in Lucius' trousers suggested that Remus didn't need to know what he was doing. Lucius made another desperate attempt to rectify the situation; he put an arm firmly round Remus back and rolled him over, pinning him to the towel-covered floor. Remus grinned up at him, then attempted the reverse the manoeuvre.
"Persistent, aren't you?" growled Lucius. He grabbed Remus' arms roughly and pinned them down, satisfied when he finally saw a glimmer of fear in Remus' eyes. The young werewolf was obviously worried what he had got himself in for. "I'm not going to hurt you," he added after a moment's thought, "but you've got to behave yourself. Got it?" Remus nodded, the panic fading slightly. Lucius kissed him again, but softly. A new sensation had taken over him, and he recognised it as guilt. Of course he had intended to frighten Remus, but now he had, he regretted it. There was something vulnerable about the werewolf, beneath that cool, composed exterior, and Lucius knew it was not his place to take advantage of that.
Remus stretched out a lazy hand and tugged at the ribbon binding Lucius' hair, as the Slytherin continued to place hesitant, gentle kisses across his face. A shower of white-gold hair rained down around them, and Remus worked his fingers into it. Greedily, he sought out Lucius' lips with his own, and at the same time he wove the black ribbon around the fingers of his right hand.
"I'm keeping this," he murmured.
"You do that."
Remus' grin caused Lucius to completely forget that niggling guilt in his mind, and he turned ravenous once more. The remains of their clothing were flung aside, some of it landing, rather unfortunately, in the bath. Remus found this hysterically funny and even Lucius had to grin before moving in to finally claim his prize. He ran his tongue all the way down Lupin's stomach, occasionally nipping hungrily at the skin. There was something about those scars which thrilled him, and also something about the very fact that the boy was a werewolf. As a rule Lucius didn't approve of half- breeds, but delicious, naked, beautiful ones were a clear-cut exception. He could definitely forgive Remus for turning into a wolf every full moon if it was the reason why he let out those delightful little yips and yelps as Lucius explored him thoroughly. And he was almost entirely sure the lycanthropy was the biggest turn-on for him; not the fine structure of Remus' body, not his warm yet questioning gaze, not the soft blond-brown hair which curled down to his shoulders. However, within moments he had completely forgotten what was so desirable about a werewolf, and could only focus on what was desirable about Remus J. Lupin.
The werewolf was almost totally compliant, only trying once more to take control. Lucius was still having none of it. This was his challenge, and it would be his victory. He could not let Lupin think he had won some kind of game; besides, the game had ended long ago. He was not playing now. This was not fun, it was something essential to him, like air or water. He had to have Lupin, and that was the be all and end all. He never stopped to think what would happen once he'd had the boy. Would these bizarre compulsions go away? Would he stop thinking about Lupin first thing in the morning and last thing at night? Would he be able to simply move on to the next person, utterly unmoved by Lupin or the conquest? None of these questions so much as entered his mind until the werewolf's strained cries faded, and Lupin lay still under him, panting and exhausted, the black ribbon still twisted round his fingers and trailing across his chest. Lucius rested his head on Lupin, brushing the ribbon out of his way. He could feel the quick heart-beat in that thin, scar-raked chest, and it made him lustful again, but Lupin looked exhausted. It was, after all, not even a week since full moon.
"Wow," said Lupin eventually. Lucius raised his head and glared at him.
"Is that it? Wow?"
"I don't say wow that often."
"Oh goodie." Lucius slumped back against the towels, but he gazed back up at Remus. The boy swept his hair out of his face and tied it back with Lucius' ribbon. Something occurred to the Slytherin.
"Remus?"
"Hmm?"
Lucius propped himself up on his elbow. "What's the J stand for?"
Remus grinned. "Just fabulous."
"It doesn't."
"No. It's John."
"How very unimaginative of a couple who managed to come up with the name Remus," Lucius drawled. Remus shrugged. He reached out and stroked his fingers along the curve of Lucius' jaw.
"Thank you," he said finally.
"For what?"
"Not freaking out. The scars, I mean."
Something else completely new and as yet unidentified took over Lucius' conscious mind. "They're beautiful, like the rest of you," he murmured, and instantly wondered why. Remus was giving him an odd look; he sat bolt upright and cast around for his trousers and underwear, pulling it on swiftly.
"What're you doing?" Suddenly Remus was a sixteen year old boy again, and he was confused. He gazed at Lucius, a faint line forming on his brow.
"Going. I'm sorry. I have to be somewhere, completely forgot."
Remus watched from the now rather scattered heap of towels as Lucius fished his shirt out of the bath. He wrung out most of the water, and then pulled the sodden garment on. He didn't bother to do up the buttons.
"Don't go."
Lucius glanced over his shoulder at his latest victim. In body and mind Remus was now very much a man, but emotionally he was immature. Another pang of guilt swept over Lucius, the second today and in his life. It would also be his last.
"Maybe I'll see you later," he semi-promised, turning on his heel. Remus could do nothing as he watched the bathroom door close behind him.