"Mutt!"
Remus startled, sitting up in his cot as quickly as he could and turning to look at his cell door. Lucius was walking quickly down the stable's central aisle toward him, wand in hand, head tilted down.
"Sir?" Remus asked, getting to his feet. Standing allowed him to see his captor's face, and he could tell that there was a new glint in Lucius's eye. It wasn't the same bright, hopeful expression that he'd had when they'd been planning the London mission, though. This was something closer to anger.
Lucius swung the cell door open with a flick of his wand and burst inside. The sight made Remus shrink backward, thoughts immediately rushing to the worst outcome.
The Order might've betrayed him again; they didn't show up—or worse, they attacked again? What were they doing—he thought he might vomit—
Lucius stopped right in front of Remus, close enough that Remus could smell him, could see the loose white hairs around his face moving with each fierce breath he took. His lips were parted, as if he might be about to speak, but instead his eyes searched Remus's face, looking for something.
"What's wrong?" Remus asked, unable to bear the silence any longer. His voice came out quieter and more timid than he'd meant it to.
Lucius hesitated for a moment, refocusing on Remus's eyes, and then furrowed his brows.
"How are you doing it?" the dark wizard asked, accusatory.
"What do you mean?" Remus blinked, swallowed, trying to pull his mind back from his frantic imaginings of how, exactly, the Order had managed to let him down.
"How are you doing it?" Lucius asked again, raising his voice.
"Doing what?" Remus asked.
"Telling the Order!" Lucius shouted in full, reaching out and grabbing Remus by the collar, pulling the fabric tight around his throat.
"Telling the Order? Telling the Order what?" Remus retorted, straining against Lucius's grip.
"What we're doing. Our plans. I know you're doing it—"
"Why do you think that?" Remus cut in, desperate for some context—and a moment to think.
"Because it all went exactly as you said it would, fleabag! Exactly. Practically choreographed."
Remus couldn't help but tilt his head as the rush of comprehension hit him, despite Lucius's violence. The Order was still listening. Helping. But why this? Why not the storage yard? Why not the rescue?
"Oh, don't act surprised," Lucius hissed, eyes narrowing as he brought his face even closer to Remus's, close enough that Remus could feel the other wizard's breath on his skin.
"I—so what, you want to… to blame me for a mission going well?" Remus pressed.
"Precisely," Lucius seethed.
"I don't—how could I do that? How could I possibly be communicating with them?"
The wrong words, apparently. A flash of colour rose in Lucius's face and he tightened his grip enough to constrict Remus's breathing before shoving him backward, the two men stumbling toward the nearest wall, until Remus was shoved up against it. Just like when Remus had first been captured—except that now, he knew about the attraction that Lucius had developed toward him. The idea made his head spin, making it difficult to focus on Lucius when he spoke again.
"That's what I'm asking you, dog," the dark wizard snarled.
Remus coughed, searched the other man's face for a moment, trying to find some path forward, through the old rage that had resurfaced.
And then he noticed it.
It was something in the angle of Lucius's brows, the way Remus could see the corners of his lips quivering now that they were so close to each other.
Lucius wasn't angry. He was scared.
Remus's mind flashed back to the field, the desperate look on Lucius's face, the way he'd deflated when Remus had rejected him. An idea came to him.
"I'm not sure what happened, sir, but I can help if you just slow down and tell me," Remus breathed, before reaching up to gently touch the other wizard's forearm.
For a moment, it looked like Lucius was about to shout, to lash out further at Remus for his impudence—but he froze when they touched. And then his eyes trailed down to where Remus's hand was resting upon his coat and he blinked, loosening his grip on his prisoner.
"I'm sorry," Remus sputtered, dropping his hand and feigning regret, as if Lucius's reaction wasn't exactly what he'd been hoping for.
"Sorry?" Lucius looked up, back to Remus.
"For—for touching you, I didn't mean to—"
"I should hope not," Lucius interrupted, letting Remus go at the same time. Remus leaned against the wall, watching his captor. Lucius's words had been harsh, but his tone was dazed.
"No, that was—it was a mistake. But I'm telling you the truth, sir. I want to help. Have you considered that maybe I just know my people? That maybe they're just horribly predictable?" Remus asked, continuing to scramble for some way to redirect Lucius, hoping that a jab at the Order would help. His neck tingled where the fabric of his shirt had pinched at it.
"We can agree on that much, at least," Lucius snapped, voice sharpening again.
"Don't you think… don't you think they'd have saved me by now, if we were able to communicate?" Remus pushed a little further, trying desperately to ignore the way the words burned on their way out.
This remark caught Lucius's attention. The fearful quiver at the edges of his lips disappeared.
"Not if they thought you were more useful here," he countered.
Remus winced, mind rushing to find a counterpoint.
"Not even after Bellatrix's attack? Or our…" Remus looked Lucius dead in the eye. "Our arrangement?"
He chose the word intentionally—to refer to his offer to work together more intentionally, but also to his commitment to let Lucius know if anything ever changed between them. If he ever became 'hungry.'
Lucius raised his left hand, wand still in his grip, and pointed it at Remus. "Don't."
The wrong choice, again. Remus glanced at the wand and then back to Lucius. "I'm not—I didn't mean anything by it, sir, I'm just saying that… well, don't you think they'd be worried about me, by now?"
"Would they?" Lucius asked, wand still raised, eyes narrowed.
"I should hope so," Remus winced. "I don't know exactly how the ambush happened, sir, but I swear to you—tonight was luck. We got lucky for once."
"We?" Lucius growled, eyes widening slightly.
"You, then!" Remus sighed, pushing back against the wall, as if he might somehow be able to put more space between himself and his captor. "Either way. I swear."
"And what part of you swearing to me is meant to compel me, mutt?" Lucius asked, nose wrinkled in disdain.
"I don't—" Remus glanced at the wand, at Lucius, trying to figure out how to soften him again, now that touch was out of the question. "I told you that we're in this together now, didn't I?"
Lucius recoiled slightly, lowering his wand slightly. "That could be a lie, too."
"It could be," Remus agreed, annoyed, "but it isn't. I don't know how to prove that to you yet, but I will."
Lucius stared at him for a moment longer before glancing away to the window again. He paused, and Remus followed his gaze, confused. It took him a few moments to recognize it, but then he saw several flashes of white in the dark night sky, and he realised that it was snowing.
"The first snow," Lucius wondered aloud. "It's early."
Remus didn't say anything, nervous about the dark wizard's sudden calm.
"You will have to, you know," Lucius spoke in a low, gravelly voice, turning back to look at Remus again. "Prove it."
"I know."
"I don't think you understand how much I stand to lose, compared to you," the dark wizard continued, tilting his head, taking a step closer. Remus felt his stomach flip as Lucius raised his empty, gloved right hand up to Remus's face and rested it on his chin for a moment—like a parent trying to make their child focus. "Everything is on the line, now, mutt."
Remus gulped, tried his best not to react to Lucius's touch, and to what he was saying. As if what was left of his world wasn't crumbling, as if Lucius wasn't onto him somehow, as if he hadn't been left to rot by his chosen family, as if he wasn't actively fighting for his life. "I know, sir."
"You don't," Lucius shook his head, eyes searching Remus's face. "You abandoned them, first. You made your choice, already."
Remus didn't bother to hide the way the words cut him, but he didn't say anything.
They stared at each other for a moment longer, their breath mingling in the air between them. Remus couldn't tell what Lucius was thinking, so he tried his best to clear his mind, to ignore how close Lucius's hand was to his throat again, how the dark wizard's wand had never left his grip, how unstable he still looked despite his lowered volume—
"No quip for that, hm?" Lucius asked, almost looking disappointed as he lowered his hand and stepped back again.
"Sorry to disappoint, sir," Remus retorted, figuring that he should say something.
Lucius stopped, assessing Remus for a moment.
"Clearly I don't have any further patience for you, today," the older wizard grimaced. "I'll be back tomorrow, and I expect you to follow through on that proof of how I can trust you. We won't be able to rely on luck forever, will we?"
"No," Remus replied, utterly sincere. "No, we won't."
They stood in silence for a moment. Lucius glanced at the door, and then back to his captive. His body language shifted, and then he went still—completely still. It was familiar to Remus, in some way, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it… until he did.
For some reason, Lucius was looking at Remus the same way he had that day in the abandoned office, when he'd shaved Remus's face and then stared at him in the sunlight. Like he wanted to kiss him.
Remus's mind flashed to Lucius's hand at his throat, to the sexually charged nightmares he'd had, and he felt a cold knot forming in his abdomen.
It grew colder when he noticed the subtle difference in Lucius's expression when compared to the office. Lucius was still filled with a kind of exhausted desire—but he didn't appear to be fighting as hard to hold it back, anymore. He didn't seem to be trying as desperately to restrain it the way he had in that intimate moment after the shave—or even in the field, when he'd conveyed so much with a single look. The longing was still there, but it looked more sad than tortured. Resigned. Lucius wanted, but Remus could tell, looking the dark wizard in the eye, that he would never address what he was feeling aloud again. Not after Remus's rebuke in the field.
And then another idea came to Remus, sharp and sudden like a blade between the ribs.
In an instant, Remus knew exactly how he could prove himself, and keep himself alive—whether or not the Order ever deemed him worthy of saving. He felt his body shift with the realisation.
Lucius's heart was pounding, loud enough that he was worried the werewolf might be able to hear it.
Lucius had watched the werewolf fight with himself since Lucius had burst in, trying to understand what was going on. Lucius had been filled to the brim with betrayal and anger and absolute terror—because what if the Dark Lord was right, and what if the Order knew everything, everything, including Remus's rejection in that stupid, sunny field—and Lupin's scrambling reactions had mirrored that. But now, the tension having been cut, the look on Lupin's face was different.
The wolf wasn't fighting himself anymore; his expression was solemn, scared, and honest. Lupin… Remus appeared to know that they were playing with fire just as much as Lucius did. Appeared to have been hurt by Lucius's words about abandoning the Order.
Staring him in the eyes, seeing that honesty and pain, Lucius was willing to spend one blissful moment believing him. Believing that perhaps, just this once, luck was on his side.
But then Remus's face changed again, shifting to something more focused, and Lucius realised that he had stared too long, let too much yearning show. He swallowed, took a step back, turned away entirely and walked to the door.
"I'll return tomorrow, then," Lucius repeated the plan as he pushed the door open and took a step outside of the cell. It was cooler on the other side of the enchanted barrier. Lucius could feel the snow in the air.
"Wait."
Lucius froze, certain that his stomach had fallen out of his body and smacked down onto the floor beneath him. He had to get out while he still could, before all of the anxiety and exhaustion and fear of the day crushed in on him and he did something even more foolish than he already had.
"What?" he asked, not willing to turn around.
"I…" the werewolf began to speak, but hesitated, almost sounding as though the words had been stolen directly from his mouth.
"I need to leave, Lupin," Lucius snapped, hand wandering to his wand, still not looking back.
"No, you're right," Remus breathed, something pitiful and relieved in his tone. "It's nothing."
"Fine," Lucius muttered, tightening his wand grip, ready to cast the door shut behind him.
And then Remus made the most impossibly frustrated, pathetic sound that Lucius thought he'd ever heard.
"What is your problem, wolf?!" Lucius exclaimed, wheeling around, desperate to determine what could possibly be causing the creature such inner turmoil.
He found Remus staring at him, bright red, lips pressed into a thin line.
"It's—it's nothing, I'm just… I'm hungry."
Lucius frowned, felt his eyebrows furrow as he tilted his head in confusion.
"That's what you're so upset about? You know I can't bring you anything else to eat, dog, I've already visited you three times today—"
"That's not what I mean," Remus interrupted.
Lucius was fairly certain his entire body had hardened into cement. The only thing he could feel was his burning hot blood as it rushed through every inch of him, scalding him from the inside out, begging him to crack open and run.
Instead, he spoke.
"I'm not interested in whatever game you're trying to play, Lupin," he began, voice shaking. "You made your boundaries very clear."
Remus clenched his jaw and looked away for a minute, almost as though he was annoyed. That was enough to move Lucius out of shock and into his own frustration.
"Enough," he snarled. "Say what you're trying to say or let me go."
"I don't want to," Remus responded without a moment's hesitation, eyes snapping back to Lucius, chest almost puffing out with his indignation. The werewolf's heart was racing so fast and hard that Lucius could see it flickering at the notch in his collarbone.
"You don't want to what, dog?" Lucius spat, doing his best to remain rooted to the spot. He wanted to walk forward, to shove the wolf with all of his might, make him regret how infuriating he was being.
Remus swallowed hard before speaking again.
"Speak. Let you go."
Lucius felt his own heart begin to race, and then he began to wonder if he might lose the ability to speak entirely, pinned as he was between rage and desire and sheer, unbridled panic.
It took him several seconds to be able to formulate a response, and it still came out more frantic and less threatening than he'd hoped it would.
"Would you rather I make you say it, then?"
Remus blinked, colour softening for a moment, and then there was a look in his eyes that Lucius had never seen before.
"I think I should show you, instead."
And with that, there really was nothing left for Lucius to say.
Remus told him to come back inside and shut the door.
He did.
Despite his sudden resolve, Remus was surprised by his own actions, as if he wasn't the one in control of his body. He was there, certainly, but sat in the back of his mind, watching with shock as he began to move confidently toward Lucius as soon as the dark wizard was back inside of the cell.
There was something inevitable about it.
Of course it had ended up this way.
Lucius was right. Remus had abandoned the Order, followed his death wish. Now, he was going to sign his own execution warrant.
He crossed the space between them quickly, placing both hands on Lucius's shoulders and pushing him back, forceful enough to make him press up against the cell door, but not so hard that Lucius would smack his head against the bars. Remus knew he couldn't look at Lucius's face, knew that he might stop and never start again if he allowed himself to see the Death Eater's reaction.
Lucius let out a sharp breath when he hit the door, but he didn't squirm, didn't try to shove Remus away. Remus might've done something else, taken some next step, but then he felt something hard jab into his thigh—Lucius's wand, still in Lucius's gloved grip.
Remus reacted without a moment's hesitation, left hand grabbing at Lucius's throat and pinning him in place just like Lucius had done to him only moments prior, right hand taking hold of the wand. Lucius hissed and twisted in a second of half-hearted resistance, so Remus shifted his weight, pressing his knee up between Lucius's legs. It sounded like Lucius was trying to grunt in frustration, but it came out far closer to a moan, and Remus swallowed hard. His mouth was close to Lucius's ear as they both panted with the sudden exertion of the moment.
It only took him another second to wrest full control of Lucius's wand, tugging it out of the other wizard's grip entirely.
Now what?
Remus paused to consider for a moment, realising how long it had been since he'd held a wand. This one was decidedly not his, fitting completely wrong in his hand, vibrating with a high, agitating buzz, like an angry fly trying to escape his fist. But there was magic nevertheless, and he could, in that moment, have done whatever he wanted to with it.
His hand must've loosened on Lucius's neck as he thought, because the older wizard spoke, his voice coming out in a shaky, fumbling mess.
"You'll never make it out alive," he breathed, "and I'm not the one you want to kill, am I?"
Remus felt a flash of panic, anxious not to let his distraction steal the moment, so he lifted the wand to Lucius's neck without thinking, pressing it there as he pulled back to look the dark wizard in the eye again. Lucius looked utterly shaken, eyes wide, cheeks rosy.
"Can you imagine? I tell you I have something to prove and then I kill you instead?" Remus mused, raising his brows.
"Don't patronise me," Lucius hissed, but Remus could feel a suspicious amount of heat beginning to pool where his thigh was pressed between the dark wizard's legs.
"Who, me?" Remus asked, tilting his head. There was heat in his own stomach, now, and he could feel a pleasant fizz in the back of his head as he settled into the moment.
There was no other strange force controlling his body while he watched, anymore. It was just him. Confident and, for the first time since he'd arrived on the cursed estate, completely in control. Might as well have fun, if he was going to die.
"Stop it," Lucius hissed, and Remus obliged, leaning back enough that Lucius looked at him with relieved surprise—and then Remus lifted the dark wizard's wand and looked Lucius directly in the eye as he threw it through the bars, down the stable's central aisle.
Lucius baulked.
"Have you just thrown my wand?" he sputtered.
"I have," Remus murmured, allowing himself a small, crooked smile. The fizzing in his head grew stronger as he watched Lucius grapple with his loss of control.
"You idiot," Lucius hissed, wriggling under Remus's grip. The movement prompted Remus to move his hand from Lucius's neck to his chest, now that they were more equally matched. Lucius's eyes followed Remus's hand, as if watching it happen would prevent him from harm. "What if someone comes in? Finds us?"
"Find us doing what, Lucius?" Remus asked, allowing himself another moment of justified cockiness.
"Fuck off," Lucius cursed, and he opened his mouth, obviously about to say more. Remus didn't give him the chance. Instead, he leaned in, bringing himself so close to a kiss that their lips were touching, and Lucius tensed and went quiet.
Remus lingered there for a moment, allowing himself the satisfaction of feeling Lucius's body begin to actually tremble with anticipation, and then he pulled back.
"I promise I'll pretend you're winning, if anyone comes in," he said in a low, conspiratorial tone.
Lucius thought he might be on the verge of passing out. He wanted to shut his eyes, or scream, or pinch himself to prove that this had to be a dream—a nightmare. His whole body was a terrible storm of ice and fire, his very cells shaking with need and fear. But instead of moving, he watched in frozen panic as Remus stepped back, pulling his knee out from between Lucius's legs.
Lucius shuddered and shut his eyes as the pressure disappeared and he dropped a couple of centimetres down to the floor. Lucius hadn't even noticed that he'd been partially hoisted up off of the ground, caught up as he'd been in the werewolf's advance. It was a relief, but excruciating, too, as the pressure and warmth of Remus's thigh had hardly been… unwelcome.
Some part of him noticed a shift in the werewolf's energy, and so Lucius opened his eyes again, trying to ignore his lightheadedness long enough to figure out what Remus was doing. Lucius was just quick enough to find the werewolf reaching out for his gloved hands.
Lucius watched in charged silence as Remus lifted Lucius's right hand and traced his fingers along its length, pausing on the tip of his middle finger. He thumbed at the soft patch of leather, and when Lucius glanced up at the other wizard's face, he saw that Remus was biting his lip. Biting his lip. Lucius's throat hurt, as if he was holding in a sob.
Remus blinked, and by the time Lucius looked back down, his glove had already begun to be pulled off of his hand.
Remus slid the leather slowly, ever-so-slowly over Lucius's knuckles, as if he were enjoying every second of the pale flesh being revealed. It took everything in Lucius's power to keep himself silent and still but even then, he had to let his eyes close, let them roll back in his head.
Remus brought Lucius's hand up, and while Lucius's eyes were still closed, laid a gentle kiss on his middle knuckles. A small, desperate sound escaped Lucius involuntarily, and he forced his eyes open just in time to see Remus trace his lips over the curves of Lucius's fingers. His breath was hot and his lips were rough with dehydration, but his eyes were playful and self-assured. Lucius felt his stomach do a somersault.
"What are you doing?" Lucius half-whispered, squirming back against the cell door, reaching with his still-gloved left hand to push weakly at Remus's shoulder.
The werewolf just smirked, hooking his jaw and tongue under Lucius's newly bared index finger and bringing it up to his lips. If Lucius's heart had already done a somersault, the gentle bite elicited a cartwheel. Lucius could feel Remus's teeth hovering there, sharp and pleasurable against his skin.
"Be careful," Lucius gulped. Not don't. Not stop.
"What reason could I possibly have to bite the hand that feeds me?" Remus teased, already letting go of Lucius's hand by the time the dark wizard could make a disgusted noise in response. Lucius let his hand drop to his side when Remus released him, unwilling to let himself focus on anything other than his prisoner's next move.
The werewolf shifted his attention to Lucius's other hand, next. He took hold of it and gently lifted it to his face, too, bringing it close enough that he could latch his teeth around one of the fabric fingertips and begin to slowly pull it off. Blood rushed to Lucius's head as he watched the wolf's mouth, unable to look away even as Remus slowly pulled the glove off of Lucius's hand, nibbling at each of the glove's fingertips until he could pull the entire thing off with a shake of his head. He let the glove drop to the floor, still holding Lucius's hand gently, and glanced at Lucius's face. The dark wizard gulped.
Remus brought Lucius's fingers to his lips again, guiding them so that the pads of his fingers were resting on the soft inner part of the werewolf's bottom lip. Lucius could feel the little bumps of musculature and old scars from the flesh being bitten too often. He let out a small, shaking breath.
That reaction seemed to be enough for Remus. The corner of his mouth ticked up, and then he brought Lucius's hand under his chin, resting his face there gently.
"I hope you don't mind," he murmured, free hand wandering down to the one that hung limply at Lucius's side. The werewolf hooked their index fingers together easily, as if they'd done it a thousand times. "I wanted to feel you without anything between us."
Lucius remembered hooking his fingers inside of Remus's mouth and pulling the werwolf's head where he wanted it when he'd first arrived. He flinched.
"You wanted to know that you can hurt me," Lucius corrected, straightening up and trying to compose himself, as if he wasn't painfully aware of how close he and Remus's hands now were to his groin.
Remus let out a soft snort of laughter, as if Lucius had said something utterly foolish, and the dark wizard tried to look away, to allow himself to catch a breath. Remus didn't let him. Instead, he pushed forward, closing the space between them again, so that there was no escape from the werewolf's overwhelming heat and strength. He seemed so much stronger now than Lucius had ever seen him. But that was not the end of his distraction—Lucius was too slow to react as Remus pulled their intertwined hands toward him, guiding Lucius until they were no longer holding hands at all, and the dark wizard's fingers were pressed against the muscles of Lupin's warm lower back, instead.
Lucius could've protested, could've tried to tear himself away, but instead he dug his fingertips in, and moved his other hand down, away from Remus's face and around his shoulders, so that he could feel the other wizard's shoulder blade beneath his shirt. Lucius tilted his head up to look Remus in the eye. The werewolf was already staring back, and somehow his eyes were on fire, and Lucius felt his breath catch in his throat.
"Do you still need me to tell you what I was getting at?" Remus murmured, leaning closer, close enough that Lucius could feel the werewolf's short, rough beard hairs tickle against his skin. Lucius dug his nails into Remus's lower back without meaning to, brought his arm tighter around the werewolf, as if pulling him closer might help the situation at all.
"I asked you a question," Remus murmured, pulling his head back.
Lucius acted instinctively, leaning forward as if he couldn't bear the idea of the two of them being separated again, and the movement made Remus pause, eyes widening slightly.
"No," Lucius finally managed.
"No?" Remus repeated, tilting his head.
"No," Lucius breathed, and he said the next words before he could really even think. "I just need you to keep going."
Remus felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. The words were somehow even more satisfying than Lucius's physical reactions had been up to that point. It would've been impossible to ignore the way Lucius's body had reacted, the way he'd gone pliable, almost pose-able, more than happy to do whatever he was directed to—and of course there was the heat, and the hardness, in a place that Remus would've died before having to speak aloud to anyone else—
Speaking aloud.
He remembered the fact that the Order was probably listening, would've heard the way the wizards' breathing had changed, the way Lucius was practically whimpering, and was now overtly asking for more. The realisation sent a cold snap of shame through him—but also a stab of anger and resentment as he remembered Arthur's disappointed face, Moody's steely resolve. He grimaced, eager to wipe their faces from his mind.
"I will," Remus spoke, resting one hand at Lucius's belt and bringing the other up cup his jaw, "but you have to pay attention."
Lucius's eyebrows arched upward, like a pitiful child about to tear up over a treat being taken away.
"What?" he asked, voice trembling. Whatever pride he'd had, it was no longer in the room with them.
"This is how I can prove my loyalty to you, Lucius," Remus murmured, willing himself to look more serious, trying to ignore the acidic feeling in his gut. "If I do this, they'll never come back for me. It'll just be us."
Lucius blinked, a bit of focus returning to his eyes.
"This is just a ploy, then? You're playing with me?" the dark wizard asked, voice dropping an octave.
Remus laughed. He couldn't help himself. The idea that this was a game, as if nothing else had been? Dora's face, Mad-Eye's, the Weasleys', all of them flashed through Remus's mind. Each of them looked disgusted. Lucius just looked confused.
"Tell me if this feels like a game," Remus whispered, and then he was pushing forward, and their lips were finally touching, pushing into one another with a kind of force and heat that Remus wasn't sure he'd felt in years.
He hadn't thought it possible, but somehow Lucius melted even more, softening against him, pulling him closer, making the tiniest moan of relief as they settled more deeply into the kiss. There was a brief moment of awkwardness as they figured out how to tilt their heads, and if it had been under any other circumstance, Remus might've laughed—but Lucius didn't give him a chance to.
If Remus was hungry, Lucius was starving. The dark wizard actually arched up onto the balls of his feet so that he could better match Remus's height, and then he moved his hand from under Remus's shirt, choosing to rest it behind Remus's head, instead, as if to lock him into place. Remus allowed himself a small smile at that move, and he rewarded it by pressing his hips into Lucius's and bucking slightly. Lucius inhaled sharply and responded by moving to bite Remus's lip. He could feel the pressure coming, so Remus pulled away, trying to ignore both the way his heart skipped a fearful beat and Lucius protested, and instead lunging for the wizard's neck.
He couldn't allow himself to get caught up in the flash of panic he felt at the idea of them potentially exchanging blood through a bite. Remus did his best to ignore the flashbacks to his dreams, the way he'd quite literally ripped Lucius's throat out, and instead focused on the taste of the salty sweat on Lucius's skin, and the little frustrated, needy huff that came every time Remus's lips touched him.
Remus dragged his mouth up the length of Lucius's neck, until his lips were directly beside the dark wizard's ear again.
"Well?" he murmured, breathing deeply in an effort to keep himself grounded in the moment and outside of his nightmares.
"Hm?" Lucius murmured, sounding dazed.
"Is it a game?"
"Does it matter?" Lucius replied, digging his nails into Remus's skin.
"No," Remus answered with a low chuckle. "I suppose it doesn't."
Whether it was the words or Remus's breath in his ear, Lucius reacted. He let out another low sound and tossed his head, moving so that he could force Remus back into kissing him. Remus wanted to flinch away at first, surprised to feel the first hint of dominance from his captor since the exchange had begun, but then Lucius's hands moved again—left hand tightening around his hips, right hand trailing up until he buried it in Remus's hair and pulled.
Remus groaned in surprised pleasure as Lucius adjusted their bodies, allowing him to bring his mouth to Remus's neck and breathe along it. Lucius waited for a moment, as if he was considering something, and it was just long enough that Remus felt himself twitch out of instinctual frustration. That seemed to be enough; Lucius let out a small laugh, and then he began to lay a series of slow, sensuous kisses along Remus's neck.
Remus knew he shouldn't let himself get caught up in the moment, that he should stay focused, that this was a life or death experience… but he couldn't anymore. Everything he'd been holding back for months, since long before his capture, came rushing back to him—all of the lust borne out of grief and self-hatred and denied longing. It was like a forest fire ripping through him, and he felt himself soften too, letting his eyes roll back in his head for a moment as Lucius tugged on his hair and kissed his neck.
"Fuck."
If Lucius hadn't already lost his mind, he would've in that moment. Remus's rough voice was intoxicating, a draught of the strongest fire whiskey shot straight into Lucius's blood stream, and all he could think about was how badly he wanted more. He let his tongue run soft and inviting over each place that he kissed, enjoying the way that Remus's hips twitched whenever he hit the most sensitive spots.
"Mmm!" Remus whined when Lucius's mouth landed along the muscle running between his clavicle and jaw, and it was enough to tear a self-satisfied growl from Lucius's throat as he tightened his grip on Remus's hair. The werewolf reacted to that too, whimpering in pleasure, and Lucius felt himself begin to salivate.
"Has it been that long since someone's touched you?" he spoke in a gruff voice, taking a moment to breathe.
"Don't start," Remus snarked. He sounded annoyed enough that Lucius eased up his grip, moving the werewolf's head so that they could look each other in the eyes, and fuck was that the right choice.
In an instant, Lucius knew that any part of him that had enjoyed making Remus feel physical pain without reward had left his body. This was all he would ever need: the way the werewolf's eyes had started to water, cheeks flushed red, lips gone puffy from kissing. And better than that, the annoyance—annoyed that Lucius stopped, and, very obviously, annoyed that it felt good at all. Lucius felt more powerful in that moment than he had in months. Melting into Remus's kiss had felt intoxicating, unlike anything he'd ever felt before, and his whole body still felt like the messiest pudding—but this, this was its own special kind of delicacy.
Lucius could feel a wicked smile spreading across his face, but he knew it by the way Remus reacted, too, squirming under his grasp and trying to look away.
"I believe you meant don't stop," Lucius murmured, letting go of Remus's hair to see how he'd react.
The werewolf made a frustrated grunt, hitched his hips up and into Lucius as if in retaliation, and that was when Lucius felt it for the first time: his prisoner's cock, hardening by the second, hot even through their clothes. It was only inches away from Lucius's own.
Lucius's eyes widened involuntarily, smile flickering out of existence, and that was enough for Remus to let out a breathy laugh in response.
"What?" Remus taunted in between his heavy breaths, tilting his chin down and looking out from under his brows, smile gone crooked once more.
"N-nothing," Lucius stuttered, trying to draw himself up to his full height again, not wanting to lose the upper hand he'd had for a moment.
"Ever felt that before?" Remus asked, eyes dancing down to Lucius's lips for a moment. The Death Eater nearly shivered.
"Of course I have," Lucius snapped, "I'm not a teenager."
"Alright," Remus answered, lifting one hand in surrender, "I'm just asking. I don't know if I'll be… if this is common for you."
Lucius felt his face get even redder—not from desire this time, but genuine embarrassment.
"It's not common," he mumbled, looking away from Remus, unwilling to make eye contact as he said the words aloud. "There's only… so much I've… done."
"Ah," Remus breathed, and it was a far more gentle and welcoming sound than Lucius would've made if their roles had been reversed. The sound of someone who was more than happy to help guide a novice. Lucius felt a bolt of electricity run straight from his throat to his dick.
"I'll let you set the pace, then," the werewolf continued in his husky, soft voice, and it was both infuriating and inviting enough that Lucius was forced to look at him again.
Lucius must've looked lost, because Remus smiled and began to kiss Lucius again before Lucius had a chance to say anything in response. The kiss was somehow even better than the first, and Lucius was struggling to fathom how that could be until he realised that Remus was there now—not only playing to Lucius's desire, but wanting something for himself.
Lucius was about to move, to try to wrap his arms around Remus again in response, but the werewolf beat him to it. Lucius barely understood what was happening until Remus was leaning up against the door beside him, one hand above Lucius's head, the other on his chest, leaning in closer.
Remus brought his mouth to Lucius's ear, panting as his hand strayed down the front of Lucius's body. The older wizard felt cold for a moment, not having the werwolf's body pressed up against him any longer, but then Remus's hand reached Lucius's cock—and he was very much not cold anymore.
He made a sharp, almost pained sound, and Remus paused, watching him nervously.
"No," Lucius panted, reaching down and grabbing Remus's wrist, "don't stop."
It took the werewolf a second to process what Lucius had said, but then he was leaning in toward Lucius's ear again, and his hand started to press and rub gently against Lucius's hard-on. Lucius muttered some ridiculous obscenity under his breath and arched his neck, noticing that he was lightheaded again. He might've gained his composure and just enjoyed the feeling of Remus's hand, then, if the younger wizard hadn't used his other hand to start playing with Lucius's hair—not pulling it, yet, but gently tangling his fingers in its length.
"Do you want more?" Remus hummed in Lucius's ear.
"Please," Lucius whispered.
Lucius didn't comprehend that he was the one who'd said it, for a moment—not until he felt Remus's grip tighten in his hair, felt the wizard's fingers start to move more urgently to the button on Lucius's trousers.
Then he realised it.
He'd begged.
Lucius Malfoy had said and done many things in the heat of passion, but never, not once in his entire life, had he begged someone to… what? Touch him? Get his cock out? Fuck him? The idea made Lucius's entire body go cold, and he shrank back from Remus's touch, pushing his hand away.
Remus backed off immediately, hands up, taking a step away from his captor.
"Are you alright?" the younger wizard asked, and even in his horror, Lucius felt his cock twitch from the look on Remus's face. The confusion. The desire that was still very much there. And for a moment, Lucius was tempted. But then he opened his mouth and remembered what he'd just done.
"No," Lucius answered sharply, tugging his coat back into place, looking around for his gloves. "No, I need to go."
"Wh—sir, I—"
Lucius grimaced at the honorific, no longer sure how to feel about it as he dipped down to grab his gloves from off the floor.
"I was angry when I came in here, R—"
They both realised that Lucius was about to call Remus by his first name at the same moment. Their eyes met. Lucius was the first to look away.
"I was angry when I came in here, and you've distracted me," Lucius finished, swallowing hard and doing his best to put a composed mask back on, even as all of his internal organs seemed to have begun rioting. "I need time to think. Convincing as your… display might've been."
Remus looked completely lost when Lucius snuck a look.
"What?" the werewolf asked, bewildered. "I—are y—"
"There's nothing to talk about," Lucius cut him off, slipping his gloves back onto his still-shaking hands and then offering Lupin a cold look. "We're done here."
Remus blinked at him, breathing only just beginning to slow, and then raised his brows and took another step back. "Fine," he said, and there was something very close to anger in his voice. "Whatever you say, sir."
"Yes," Lucius muttered under his breath, pulling the door open and shutting it again without looking back at his captive, heading to the spot where his wand had landed in the aisle. "Whatever I say."