Hands and Knees
Written for the contrelamontre Prostitution challenge.
Pairing: Remus/Snape, suggested Remus/Sirius
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: I do not own, claim to own or make any profit from anything to do with Harry Potter.
Notes: Written against my better judgment.
Dirty gravel crunched underfoot as he approached, amber eyes staring wearily up at the house before him. He hated this place. The wolf hated this place too. The house was huge, but the interior was small, cramped and damp on the lower levels. It was one huge dungeon in Remus' mind.
"Lupin, how considerate of you to arrive early." Drawled the all too familiar voice.
Remus turned elegantly on his heel to face the pale form of Severus Snape, the wolf leaping to the front of his mind in a rush of bloody images and adrenaline. Rip. Kill. Punish. He pushed it back down to the back of his mind where it settled to pace about in agitation. He couldn't blame it, really, but of course it was always the same. Every time they went through this, Severus would come out clasping the brown bottle of potion in one precise hand like a charm to ward off a Werewolf. And to his shame it worked, every single time. Because he needed that potion to help protect Harry. Because without it the wolf would rip him to shreds for letting Sirius die. Because he couldn't afford the time to heal, post-moon.
"I find it's better to arrive early than to arrive late, Severus. You should try it some time." Remus stated pleasantly, quickly walking across squeaking floorboards and into the house with his head held high and his pride already starting to sting.
They didn't speak on their way up to the second floor, the Potions master leading the increasingly irritated Defence master through the labyrinth of corridors to their destination. The room he chose was always the same one, and as far as Remus could ever tell from the stale scents it was only used when he was here. In his lighter moments, he was almost flattered by that concept.
"Well, Lupin, you've seen the potion. You know what I want."
"Yes, I know Severus. But you know my rules too." He held out his hand for the bottle, steadily returning the other man's gaze with his own. After a few moments, the bottle was handed over with the quiet slosh of success, and was lain down along with his cloak near the door. "Thank you."
Severus grunted in response, his thin frame leaning almost casually against the window sill, dark eyes glittering lecherously in his direction as he started to undo the first buttons on his robe. This was the reason why Remus didn't eat before coming here anymore. The first time they'd come to this arrangement, he'd made the mistake of eating a large tea which had come back up to greet him when he'd returned home three hours later to a concerned Sirius. The robe fell to the floor, and Remus kicked it away along with his shoes. His boxers followed suit, leaving him standing proud but naked in the middle of Severus' playroom, and wondering what he'd be asked to do this month. Sometimes it was the chains and knifes, sometimes it was gags and animals, and sometimes it was worse things. The person to whom he all but belonged for the next two hours circled him like a vulture deciding which piece looked tastiest, reaching out to caress scarred skin and fondle firm muscles.
"You know with Black's demise, you might consider giving yourself to me freely." Severus drawled, stroking Remus' flaccid cock. If he'd had anything in his stomach he would have vomited right then, but as it was the slow kindling of life in his groin died as the bile rose.
"Stick to the deal, Snape." Remus snapped eyes ablaze with anger.
"Very well. Hands and knees, Lupin."
Remus followed the direction with gritted teeth, positioning himself on the rough wood floor. He knew what was coming, and didn't need the rustling of heavy robes dropping to the floor to warn him.
Without even a token effort at preparation, Severus impaled him with one swift, agonising, and thrust. Remus could feel his passage tearing under the continuing onslaught; he wanted to howl at the pain but wouldn't give the potions master that satisfaction. He was well used to pain. Locking his throat against any sound, he kept his eyes focused on the innocent brown potion bottle as his body rocked with the force of the thrusts.
After it was over, Remus returned to Headquarters by taxi, shifting uncomfortably on the seat while his werewolf healing got to work. He was afraid of splinching himself if he tried to apperate in his state. No one saw him return except the painting of Mrs Black, which started screeching as he passed. Turning a good deal less elegantly than he had earlier, he faced the screeching painting thoughtfully. Sirius had wanted that picture down, Severus though it was amusing. Remus lashed out at it with his bare hands before walking away, leaving the painting so much mulch on the floor.