A/N: Hello. It's been a while, but no, I haven't forgotten this fic. I intended to go more into detail about a certain part of this chapter (don't be too impatient, you'll see), but I found it wasn't quite appropriate yet, if I wanted to maintain any appearance of them being anywhere close to realistic. Anyhow, my poor Remus is just about going nuts. He's the type of person who is quite average in this universe, seeing as he isn't a wherewolf and therefore he doesn't have the psychological resistance his other self has. Snape always was and still is not very well adjusted and therefore more open to new and unconventional things, I think. That might explain his being rather calm. Basically, they both just need a little love. :)

Chapter six – "Make up your mind. And unmake it."

The moment had broken. Snape had got up wordlessly and left, while Remus remained to ponder the various considerations at hand or rest, whichever was easier. He buried himseld in the sheets that he knew to be red and imagined he was in some kind of cocoon. Gradually, the pain seemed to numb, and his limbs were heavy and warm. Almost without realizing, he surrendered to sleep.

It was like stepping through a door, and he found himself in a dark empty house. He knew at once that something about him was wrong. He looked at his hands and saw paws, furry and cruel looking and cried out in shock. But the cry was a guttural howl and he felt an inexplicable rage and savageness take over his mind. He swatted at the hangings on the nearby four-poster bed. 'Not enough relief' the raging thing inside him thought. "Howl" he scratched the floorboards. He claws didn't dig in as deep as he had wanted, so he went over to a wall and ripped what was left of the paper off. He kicked objects, delighted in their shattering and breaking noises. He knawed on doorframes, relishing the pain of the splinters between his teeth. He had no idea how long he was trapped in his nightmare.

Remus woke up to a harsh smell. He saw Snape put the lid back on the flask of nerve-clearing serum with one hand, seeing as he was sitting on his chest, restraining him and holding his face immobile. All the tension seeped out of Remus. Sensing this, Snape got off him.

"Why am I on the floor? When did I fall?" Remus asked.

"I'm not sure, but I came as soon as I heard my sheets being torn apart." Snape said.

There it was again, that strange humour typical in one who knows more than the person he is dealing with. It was almost patronising. Snape signalled for the lights to come on and Remus saw to his embarrassment that not only the sheets were in shreds, but also the pillows and his clothes. Snape had already gone to the closet and was about to toss him a black kaftan when Remus objected:

"No, I'm not wearing your black potato-sack, it looks too much like an asylum uniform."

"And after this display you still think that you aren't a little unbalanced?" Snape said, his eyebrow raised.

"I wasn't until I met you." Remus snarled.

"Careful now," Snape drawled "you wouldn't want to admit so readily that I have such a powerful influence over you, would you now? Besides, it has very little to do with me." He finished coldly.

They were silent for a while. Remus now noticed that the anger he felt seemed to be residual from the dream. He knew this, because suddenly he couldn't understand why he had overreacted. Snape was being a good host, even though he wasn't entirely blameless in this whole affair, and anyhow it was very uncharacteristic for him to be angry in the first place.

"I'm sorry. Besides, this is probably the only thing that will fit." Remus offered. This wasn't entirely true as they had roughly the same build and height.

Lupin caught the offensive garment and started pulling off the shreds of his sweater. Snape looked away, but his attention was caught by the exclamation of pain that followed. He turned around to see the student stuck in the robe with his arm at a funny angle. Snape went over and pulled it over his head.

"I must have done something to my shoulder during my..."

"Hallucination?" Snape finished. "Hold still, this is easy enough to fix." He cracked the limb back into place. "Now, clear up your mess, I'll be in the kitchen drinking wine. I'm not used to this many complications at once and my nerves are at their end. I'll expect you to replace my destroyed property at some point."

"Right." Remus answered thinking 'git'. He had almost begun to think of the scientist as a generous person, but he had slipped back into his socially inept self.

When Lupin came into the kitchen, he found Snape with his head on the table and a glass near at hand. He cleared his throat.

"Well, erm, I think I've trespassed on you long enough. I'll be leaving. Originally I just came for my transcriptor. Goodbye."

"No, you can't leave." Snape muttered from the table.

"I beg your pardon?!?" Remus sputtered.

"It's past curfew. In this part of town I can guarantee that you will be checked by the militia and with that nerve-clearing substance in your system, which they will discover thanks to the alcohol probe, you're bound to get into trouble. I'm afraid you'll have to stay at least for another four hours until the drug wears off." Snape said tiredly.

Lupin, exasperated, went over and grabbed the bottle and took a long swallow.

"Make that six hours." Snape said. Lupin hit his own forehead. 'That was stupid, he thought.'

"So tell me, did you by any chance dream that you were some kind of furry creature locked in a house?" Snape asked and propped himself on one elbow. He was staring Remus straight in the eyes and the latter had the unpleasant thought that his mind was being read.

"No." He answered. Snape just gave a dry disbelieving laugh. He decided to try another angle.

"Did you dream of me?"

"No!" Lupin said incredulously.

"Then how come were you tearing up my bedsheets?" Snape was amused.

"Alright, yes, I did dream I was a…a…"

"Werewolf. That was what you were. What you might really be."

Lupin just stared at him. Snape was conscious of the fact that he felt two different things for the man before him. Whenever he established the link to the dream Lupin, he couldn't help feeling a certain disdain or dislike. It was vague, but it was there.

At other times it was just a neutral feeling, sometimes bordering on sympathy because he was aware that his guest was completely at a loss. Now he looked at the student, and saw a potential acolyte. If he could just gain this man's trust… Remus met his gaze. For the Nth time in the last few hours they were staring at eachother, Lupin hoping for a non-verbal explanation of any kind and Severus for recognition.

Something shifted. Remus handed the bottle back to Severus. He filled his glass and Remus took it out of his hand and drained it. There seemed to be an uncertainty, an opening. Severus stood up and faced his guest. They were the same height. He tentatively took the hand holding the glass, pried it open, set the glass on the table and pressed it between his own. He looked away. He was still afraid, but less now, because it seemed that embarrassment was not as much of an issue anymore. Still looking away he put his face against Remus' and grasped the back of his neck. He breathed in. He breathed out. He felt eyelashes flutter on his cheekbone.

"I don't know what to do." Remus said whitely.

"Neither do I."

They embraced clumsily. It felt as if by pressing their bodies together hard, they might fuse and gain some better understanding of the strangeness surrounding these godless hours. They lost their sense of time.

When their knuckles had gone white, they pulled apart. There was latent violence in the room, as if, unsure if it were acceptable to themselves to acknowledge the experience, the best reaction would be to strike. Anything to legitimate the touch.

This time it was Remus who moved first. He pulled his host by the collar and raised his hand. He was still undecided between anger and the need for comfort, so he had let his restlessness take hold. Severus grabbed the hand and brought it to his face. That decided the course of their subsequent actions. It seemed agreed that they had chosen the non-violent way. They finished the wine.

That was when lust entered the game. They were both aware of this as they sat across from each other at the table. The walls were caught between the two moods in Severus. They were going back and forth between scarlet, the colour of fresh blood, and Remus realised, Severus' sheets and teal, the colour of apprehension. Snape got up and deactivated the walls.

He stood infront of Remus, who looked up and found beauty in the objectively unattractive features.

"There, I'm handing the reins over to you. You are probably more experienced in this kind of thing. I trust your judgement." Severus told Remus in an uncomfortable tone.

Remus pulled him down and, predictably, kissed him. Once, twice, three times. Severus got to his knees and Remus slipped off the chair. They awkwardly got as close as they could, their knees briefly meeting. They sat on the checkered kitchen floor and resumed, hoping that it would become comfortable and natural. It did. They forgot themselves and gave in to the feel of eachother. Nevermind the cold hard floor, nevermind the turmoil. Bodies provide such good distractions.

The alcohol had helped provide attraction and it in turn fed on the kisses, growing. Their bodies responded accordingly. Now all that mattered was being one. They moved over to Narcissa's room, all the while trying to find new angles and movements. They bit and clawed. They found themselves not wearing anything, suddenly together on the alabaster and quartz coffin. On seeing the white face, Remus froze. He stared at the feminine features in the case and then at the flush-lipped wild-eyed man beneath him. This was too bizarre. He turned and left the room. Snape groaned in annoyance.