Fic: ~Alpha Wolf~ NC-17
Title: Alpha Wolf
Chapter 5, Epsilon
Author: Snegurochka
Pairing: Remus Lupin/ Bill Weasley
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Remus feels the new werewolf in town is threatening his authority. He decides to teach the challenger a lesson.


~~Epsilon~~

"Oh, Remus, you are a dear, aren't you? Tending to the stew for me – thank you! But look here, you don't have to stir it yourself – just a flick of the wrist and a quick charm – yes, there we go – and that ladle will take care of itself! You really must get Tonks to teach you some of these handy kitchen spells, you know…"

Molly bustled about the kitchen, pushing Remus gently to the side as she resumed control of dinner. The rich scent of herbs and gravy and fresh meat penetrated his nostrils and he breathed deeply. His eyes glanced at the cutting board on the counter, still soaked in the blood of the raw chopped beef before it was thrown in the pot. His right hand curled into a fist, the nails digging into his palm in frustration, as he struggled against the urge to grab that board and lick it clean.

The moon was near.

Every month, the closer it got to the full moon, the stronger his wolf impulses became. He wanted – no, needed – to taste blood, to run through the forest, to bring down prey, and most of all, to fight, claim, and dominate. The impulses had always been easier to manage when he was in the Wizarding world, isolated from the rest of his species. The scents of other wizards didn't bother him so much, and the mating urges were quickly satisfied with either an available woman for hire, or with his own hand. He never became violent in sexual situations with Muggles or other wizards.

But in the forest with the Packs, everything changed. The proximity of other werewolves kicked his primal instincts into high gear. His senses immediately sought a place in the Pack hierarchy, fighting off challenges while himself initiating battles with those ahead of him in line. It was exhilarating, the base, guttural, animal nature of those encounters, when fury and envy and passion ran hot in his veins, finding expression through the connection of his fist with a jaw, his steel-toed boot with a stomach, and his cock with a pliant, young, challenger arse.

He swallowed and inhaled again, a shiver running down his spine. There are no labels for this, his first alpha had told him once, when he lay shivering and bleeding on the forest floor, and he had never forgotten those words. We're werewolves. It is what it is. Now get up and clean yourself off.

Bill Weasley still needed to learn that. Bill Weasley still thought there were words that could explain this – names for it, and punishments that should go with those names. But then again, Bill Weasley still thought he was a wizard. Remus would ensure he learned what he needed to learn – and before his first moon, if possible. If Bill didn't figure out how to channel his wolf energies and violent impulses safely, within the confines of a healthy werewolf relationship, terrible things could happen. Their earlier encounter that day had indicated, however, that the young upstart had learned nothing. Remus would simply have to try harder tonight.

"I'm not a total loss in the kitchen," he said now to Molly, smiling as he leaned back against a counter. "Tonks says I make a mean omelette."

"Oh, I'm sure she's just being kind, dear," Molly replied. "Where is she tonight, by the way? Not working again, I hope."

"Afraid so." He ignored the insult and glanced around. "I suppose Arthur is as well?"

"Yes, yes." Molly sighed, flicking her wand at a pot of carrots to start the water boiling. "This new… situation, of course, well. Everyone is working overtime." Remus saw her bottom lip begin to tremble, and silently hoped the twins, or Ron, would make an appearance sooner rather than later. "Oh, Remus!" she burst out, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Bill's been acting so strangely lately! What will happen to him when the moon… the moon… oh!"

She collapsed in sobs, and Remus stepped forward to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "We don't know, Molly, remember? We have to wait and see. But from what I've seen of him–" He felt a surge of excitement and arousal wash over him – "there is every reason to believe that his body will adapt well and quickly to being a werewolf – or at least a partial one."

"You- you think so?" she sobbed. "He was always such a handsome boy…"

"He still is," Remus assured her, his thoughts drifting to the image of Bill pinned against the wall in Tonks's front hallway, lips parted in a silent plea as Remus's fingers pressed between his thighs. "He is young and strong, and very handsome still," he told Molly, letting her sob on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Remus," a hollow voice said from the kitchen doorway. "I wouldn't have expected you to think so."

Remus smiled and gave Molly a quick squeeze before pulling away from her and walking forward to shake Bill's hand. "Bill," he greeted the younger man pleasantly. With Molly safely behind him, he let his eyes narrow at Bill before falling down his body, then up again, in silent appraisal. He licked his lips as he stepped forward. "It's nice to see you."

The younger man seemed startled at the gesture, but after a glance at his mother, looking on with a sad smile, he held out his hand. Bill grunted a greeting as Remus's hand met his, Bill's eyes flashing with anger.

Oh no, this wouldn't do – this wouldn't do at all. Remus squeezed the hand, holding it in place when Bill tried to pull away. "Very handsome, I'd say," he repeated, giving a hearty chuckle for Molly's benefit. His fingers wrenched Bill's wrist, causing the other man's jaw to tighten in pain. "Bill will be fine, Molly," he added, waiting for Bill to drop his eyes. "He's a good boy."

A startled gasp left Bill's throat and Remus grinned, pushing his advantage. With one last squeeze of the other man's purpling hand, Remus curled his fingers around and pinched, puncturing the skin on the underside of Bill's hand, then quickly dropping his hold.

Bill's eyes snapped closed in pain, his struggle not to make a sound showing on his face.

"Oh, he is, he always was, my oldest boy," Molly was saying as she bustled between pots on the stove. "Always so well-behaved – not like Fred and George, and that's for certain… nothing but trouble… Where are those two, anyway? Bill, dear, will you call them for dinner? And Remus – can you reach that bowl for me? Thank you… So helpful…"

"Sure, mum," Bill replied, his voice tight, then made sure that she was still busy at the stove before he raised his hand to look at the wound. A trickle of blood ran down his skin, and Remus inhaled deeply.

Perhaps that had not been such a good idea after all; the scent of fresh blood, this close to the moon, was almost too much to bear. But he felt reassured in the knowledge that if it was affecting him even a little, it must be torturing Bill. Sure enough, just as Remus suspected, Bill had no control. He raised his eyes again to Remus as he lifted his hand to his mouth, quickly darting a tongue out to lap at the trail of blood, before clamping his lips to the back of his hand and sucking.

Remus breathed deeply, his own blood starting to race at the sight of this challenger nursing his wound – one Remus had inflicted. He watched Bill's chest rise and fall rapidly as he turned to leave the kitchen, his mouth still working at his hand.

"Fred!" they heard him call upstairs a moment later. "George! Call Ron and Ginny, would you? Dinner's on."

He returned to the kitchen, his hand back at his side and his lips pleasingly swollen and reddened. Well, then. That had been unexpected, Remus thought, and not something he would leave unfinished. So, the young challenger had an urge to suck, did he? Remus felt the wolf's desire stir at the thought. It had not been part of the plan, but what good was a plan if it couldn't be changed? Oh yes, there was still another way for this young wolf to learn about the value, and the pleasure, of submission, and if Remus had anything to say about it, Bill would learn that lesson tonight.

"Here, Molly, let me take those," he offered, as she passed him with a stack of plates. He headed into the dining room for dinner.

---

The dinner table that night hosted a smaller crowd than was customary at the Burrow. Arthur was putting in another late night at the Ministry, Charlie had remained in Romania – despite Owling daily to check on Bill's health, as well as the new war developments since the last battle – and Percy had not been seen near this place in months. The twins seemed to come home for meals often, on the other hand, despite their newfound success and independence, and they plunked down on either side of Molly at the long table. Ron and Ginny were home from school now, although Remus noticed they both were more withdrawn than usual – owing, he imagined, to their respective difficulties with Harry.

He would have preferred to share the meal only with the Weasley clan, having always enjoyed their company and Molly's cooking, but just as they were seating themselves and beginning to pass the steaming platters of food, Fleur swept into the room in a flash of blonde, tossing a mane of hair over her shoulders as she slid into the seat next to Bill, who was at one end of the table.

"I am sorry to keep you waiting!" she trilled. "But I heard we had a guest for dinner and I wanted to make myself more… presentable."

Remus smiled at her in surprise, from his position at the other end of the table, opposite Bill. "That's kind of you, Mademoiselle, but you always look more than presentable."

She giggled and blushed, and Remus cast a glance at Bill, his competitive instincts pleased to see that the man was silently fuming.

"I thought you weren't feeling well, sweetheart," Bill observed through gritted teeth, pouring himself some wine and not seeming to notice when half of it sloshed onto the table.

Fleur shrugged. "Perhaps I was simply hungry. Whatever it was, I am feeling much better now! So–" She leaned forward, eyes on Remus – "it is good to see you again, Monsieur Lupin! It is good for us to speak to you, to find out more about the condition of Bill."

The numerous pairs of dropped eyes around the table did not escape Remus's attention, and oddly inflamed him. Was this entire family ashamed of Bill, afraid to talk openly about what had happened to him? He felt a surge of sympathy towards the younger man, and a protective instinct.

"Oh, Fleur," Molly muttered into her plate, "do you need to bring this up when–"

"What is it you'd like to know, Fleur?" Remus interrupted, smiling at Molly.

"I know what she wants to know!" piped up Fred – or was it George? – casting a mischievous wink at Remus.

"Oh yes," George chimed in. "She wants to know if–"

"–his little werewolf–"

"–will work just as well–"

"–as it did before!"

Bill's eyes widened in disbelief. "Shut it, you wankers!" he exclaimed, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Bill!" Molly scolded, then turned to the twins. "And you two! Honestly, I never heard such language at my mother's dinner table–"

But the twins' frankness seemed to have dissolved the tension at the table as a collective laugh went up, and after a moment, even Molly had to shake her head and smile.

"How do you know it worked before?" Ginny asked with a sly smile, to hoots and hollers from the twins.

"Ginny!" Ron and Bill cried at the same time, then looked at each other and snorted a laugh, shaking their heads.

"They don't," Fleur added, "or at least I hope not. But I can say that it worked very good. Now." She clasped her hands together and turned again to Remus. "It will continue to be working very good?"

"Fleur!" Bill pleaded, his head in his hands.

"Okay," she replied, rolling her eyes at him before turning back to Remus. "But we can have children, no? You must at least tell me this."

Molly perked up again. "Of course! Why – well, I only assumed that – Remus? They can, can't they?"

"Little furry ones," George snorted under his breath to Fred, who winked back, earning a murderous glare from Fleur.

"Well, he does not have children," she said, pointing a fork at Remus. "I am thinking maybe it is a problem."

Remus's anger was tempered with a quick glance at Bill, who was watching him with wide eyes, a forkful of stew missing his mouth and landing on his plate. He turned back to Fleur. "And how do you know I don't have children?" he asked playfully.

Fleur blushed, as the twins hooted with laughter. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Well, I–"

"There might be quite a bit you don't know about him," Bill added, and Remus glanced up again to catch his eye, holding his gaze as long as he dared.

"Is that so?" he asked quietly.

But Molly cut in before Bill could answer, stirring her fork in her food and sighing loudly. "Well, children are a big responsibility – never know if you'll end up with little devils like these two…" She waved her hand at Fred and George, who looked outraged.

"Us?"

"Devils?"

"I don't know about you, Fred, but I think we could have done with a different mother as well."

"Maybe she's not really our mother?"

"And we were raised by Crumple-Horned Snorkacks?"

"Just so. And she kidnapped us to use us in potions–"

"Oh, stop it," Molly snapped, then shook her head and smiled at them fondly.

"Well, speaking of these two devils – I mean, honourable and well-trained young wizards," Remus began, smiling at the twins, "would you mind if I made a suggestion about tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night… tomorrow night…" Fred thought for a moment. "Must have dates, don't we?" He glanced at George, who nodded.

"We usually do," he mused, "though, maybe not till Thursday. I'll check with Angelina." He eyed Remus, his curiosity evidently piqued. "What's tomorrow night?"

"Full moon," said Bill quietly, then paused, glancing up at Remus. His voice turned hostile. "What's your suggestion?"

Remus's breath caught for a moment at the note of challenge in Bill's voice. To drag you home with me and fuck your brains out. He cleared his throat. "It might be a good idea for Fred and George to stay with you that night," he said instead.

"Fred and George?" Molly exclaimed. "But what about his mother? I should be with him…" She wrung her hands and raised pleading eyes to Remus.

"With a rampaging werewolf?" Fred replied, laughing. "Sure, mum, great plan. You can barely hex a garden gnome without feeling guilty!"

Remus laughed. "Just what I was thinking, Fred," he replied, giving Molly a sympathetic look. "Chances are he won't transform, but he should be in a right temper that night."

"He's been in a right temper for a week now," Ron piped up, shoving stew into his mouth.

"Oh yeah?" Bill challenged. "Haven't heard you complaining before."

"Too scared," Ron muttered, then turned to Remus. "Yelled at me yesterday for taking too long in the shower."

"Came barging through the shop like a Hungarian Horntail this morning," George added, rubbing his chin.

"Threw Arnold out the window the other day for being too fluffy," Ginny chimed in, scowling at her oldest brother.

"Ah." Remus fought a grin as he glanced around the table. "He's got a bit of a short temper already, then?"

"I'm right here!" Bill cried at last, flinging his fork down. "Stop talking about me like I can't hear you! And you–" He gazed across the table at Remus, jabbing with a forefinger – "you don't know what you're talking about."

The twins broke into laughter at that, evidently aiming to diffuse the tension. "Oh no, no idea at all, would he, George?" Fred mocked.

"None, I'm sure," George agreed. "Nobody less qualified to tell Bill what it's like to be a werewolf than Remus, that's for certain."

"Not sure who he thinks he is, really."

"Should definitely mind his place, talking out of his arse like that."

"George!" cried Molly. "Language…"

Remus smiled. "It's all right, Molly."


"So, this is what we can expect tomorrow night?" Fred asked with a grin, gesturing at Bill.

"Well, I'd say he might be a bit worse off than that." Remus glanced at Bill and cocked his head to the side. "Especially if he doesn't diffuse some of that tension before then."

Bill met his eyes, the vein in his temple pulsing with barely-suppressed rage, and Remus was suddenly overcome with the desire to get Bill alone, now. With the moon so close, it was only through years of experience that he was able to hold onto his own control, but every glance in Bill's direction, every whiff of the young werewolf's agitated scent across the table was chipping away at his careful veneer.

"So, we have full authority to turn him into a Ton-Tongue Toffee if need be?" George inquired, forcing Remus to break his gaze at Bill and turn to the younger wizard.

"Well, I don't know about that, but you'll want to have your wands at the ready, certainly."

"We can do that," Fred agreed, nodding at George.

"And how, exactly, is that going to help anything?" Bill asked, his voice still angry.

"Well," Remus mused, "I certainly won't be much help to you that night, and no offence to Molly or Fleur, but I expect hexing you won't be quite within their loving natures if the need arises, and Ron and Ginny are still a bit young to have all the right confinement spells down."

Ron and Ginny looked indignant for a moment, then shrugged in resignation. Remus thought Ron looked a bit relieved, actually.

"I don't imagine these two will have much anguish over tying you up if you get violent."

"None at all!" George said cheerfully.

"Nope," Fred added. "In fact, why not practice now, shall we?" He pulled his wand out but Bill was too fast, knocking it out of his hand with a broad swat.

"Oh, fuck off," he muttered under his breath.

"Oh ho ho!" Fred bellowed, elbowing Bill in the arm. "What was that about a short temper, Remus? Think we've got a live one, here!"

"Bill?" Fleur ignored the twins, reaching out to take her fiancé's hand. "I will stay with you that night, if you wish." She glanced at Remus. "I know many spells, after all – spells he has not heard of, probably! I was a Tri-Wizard champion, you know…"

Ginny rolled her eyes, but the rest of the table smiled indulgently at Fleur, and even Bill's face seemed to relax.

"Thanks, love, I know you were, but I think I'll take my chances with these bastards." He waved a hand at Fred and George, who broke into wide grins of victory. "I do feel a bit… frustrated lately, I'll admit." He raised his eyes to Remus and stared. Hard.

Remus felt his blood begin to run a bit hotter, and a bit faster. He needed to bend that werewolf over a kitchen counter, now.

"Well," he said, determined to get through the rest of the meal as quickly as possible, "enough of werewolf talk. How is the shop going, you two?" He turned to Fred and George, and soon the table was regaled with the latest tales from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, of new product lines and experiments gone awry, and how they wished they could get their salesgirl to work longer hours in shorter skirts. Remus sat back and finished his wine, listening in passing to the conversation around him and thinking about how he was going to finish teaching his young protégé the value of control, and submission.

When Molly and Fleur rose to begin collecting the dishes, Remus immediately stopped them. "Oh no, you've done more than enough today with the cooking," he insisted. "You are definitely relieved from dish duty." He glanced down to see Bill staring with ferocious intensity at his plate, as if concentrating very hard.

"Oh, Remus, what a dear you are. Just mind the good china, can't have that broken, you know…"

"Come, Bill," Fleur said, offering her hand. "We will go for a walk, perhaps, or read together…?"

Bill's eyes flickered up. "Oh." He glanced at Remus, then back down to his plate. "In a bit, love, okay? I think I better help Remus with the dishes, first. You know, prove I'll be a good husband." He winked at her and forced a smile, and she laughed, reaching up to place a kiss on his cheek. Grabbing a stack of plates, he barged through the kitchen door, and Remus smiled to himself as he followed.

---

As soon as they were alone in the kitchen, Remus turned to Bill, stopping the man's imminent tirade with a single raised hand. "You work with bank vaults," he said quietly. "Put your strongest lock on that door, and for good measure," he added, licking his lips, "let's make sure they won't even think to come in."

Bill seemed just on the verge of spitting out a retort, but he stopped himself, then slowly pulled his wand out of his back pocket, his eyes locked on Remus.

Heat pooled low in Remus's body at the glint of defiance and arousal at war in Bill's gaze. I let you get away last time, but not tonight. Tonight, you're mine. He dropped his gaze to Bill's hands, where the contemplative tapping of the wand into the opposite palm had graduated to a slow stroke, the fingers of Bill's left hand curling deftly around the tip as it slid back and forth through his palm with maddening slowness.

He stopped abruptly when he noticed Remus watching.

"Oh, don't stop on my account," Remus remarked. "A wand can feel very nice, as I imagine you already know."

Bill's eyes widened. "Look," he sputtered at last, just a bit too loudly, and Remus gave him a look of warning, bringing an index finger up to his lips.

"The spell," he breathed, barely making a sound, but inclining his head towards the door.

Bill's eyes locked on his a moment longer, and Remus held the gaze, determined to convince the young challenger that if he would just fucking submit and lock the door, he would get a very pleasant reward indeed.

The moon was near. Remus had no patience for a challenge tonight, and he had no patience for Tonks and her lacy nightgowns. He needed to feel the rough hands and thick tongue and deep growls of a werewolf tonight, and if Bill would stop being such an arrogant prick and admit that he needed the same thing, they could lock the fucking door and just get on with it.

But he kept any outward signs of his own need well-hidden as he stared Bill down. Finally, Bill dropped his eyes and swallowed. His brow creased in concentration for a minute, and then he raised his wand and waved a peculiar pattern over the door, muttering a string of charms. When he finished, he turned back to Remus with a look of apprehension and mischief on his face.

"There," he declared, his voice shaking. "They've forgotten this place even has a kitchen." He flashed a grin, before dropping his eyes again and backing into a counter.

"Good boy," Remus said quietly, feeling a surge of arousal when Bill's face crumpled in pleasure, his head thrown back as he leaned into the counter for support.

"God, would you stop saying that?" he muttered, his eyes closed and his lips parted.

"You don't like it?"

"No, I just- god."

"Ah. You like it too much."

"I don't- like any of this," Bill managed.

"Yes, you do. Why is that so difficult to admit, Bill?" Remus leaned into the opposing counter, rolling up his sleeves and crossing his arms over his chest. He was determined to keep his distance from Bill this time, and to let the young upstart come to him.

"You know why," Bill spat. "You flirted with her all through dinner! What, are you just sick enough that I'm not enough for you anymore – you want the pair of us?"

Remus inhaled the scent of anger and confusion on the other man and struggled to remain calm. "I told you before, Bill – Fleur has nothing to do with this. It's between werewolves. And," he added, when Bill threatened to interrupt, "there is no way for you to avoid it, so it might be a good idea to stop fighting."

"Oh, I can avoid it," Bill retorted. "That bullshit in there?" He jabbed a finger in the direction of the dining room. "I can fuck my girl just fine since that attack, all right? And I don't hear any complaints from her, so if your woman isn't giving you what you want, it's not my problem. She won't let you fuck her up the arse, so you come to me, is that it? Fuck you!" Bits of spittle and fury flew from Bill's mouth as his voice rose. "I am not into that shit, and I never will be. You lost, Remus," he hissed. "Why don't you just go home?"

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're angry," he said after a moment, ignoring Bill's snort of derision. "Do you notice how much angrier you have become in the past day or two, as the full moon nears?"

"No, and I – what?"

"The moon, Bill," he repeated. "I'm not making this up just to toy with you, or entertain myself. I thought you understood that by now."

Bill looked as though he had been slapped. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before deciding on what to say. "They said I wasn't a full werewolf," he said quietly, a pang of accusation in his voice, and Remus shrugged.

"We won't know that until the moon rises that night – but no, as I told you before, I suspect you won't transform."

"Then what the hell is–"

"And it could very well be worse for you because you won't transform," Remus continued, cutting Bill off. "You'll have no outlet for your anger, and rage, and confusion, and all the violent emotions you're keeping pent up inside right now." He glared at Bill, his own violent emotions welling up as his patience neared its end. "Do you really think this is just about fucking?" he asked incredulously, then shook his head. "You. Stupid. Fuckwit."

Bill's eyes widened, but he took a deep breath before relaxing into the counter again. "You're baiting me," he declared.

A slow smile spread over Remus's face. "Good. And how does that make you feel?"

Bill huffed, looking away. "Like I want to fucking kill you."

"Excellent," Remus purred, then held a hand out in front of his chest, beckoning with two fingers. "Then come and get me."

Bill narrowed his eyes and looked as though he was about to swagger over, but then stopped himself. "Killing you in my parents' kitchen isn't really going to solve anything, is it?"

"Ah. Your rational mind wins out, that's a good thing," observed Remus. "But you would never be able to kill me, anyway. It's metaphorical."

"For what?"

"For you needing a way to channel the violence right now – how many times do I have to tell you this before you're going to get it?"

"Fuck off!" Bill cried. "If you'd–"

"You need a werewolf right now!" Remus shouted, his patience finally at an end, his own control ebbing away. "If you don't take your anger, and your rage, and your lust out on me – someone who can handle it–" He paused and pointed at the door – "then you are going to accidentally take it out on one of those good people in there, and someone's going to get hurt."

The sudden silence echoed throughout the kitchen as Bill stared at him, dumbfounded. "I would never…" he began at last, and Remus closed his eyes to fight for control.

"When you got home tonight, just before dinner," he began, "do you know what you smelled like?"

Bill swallowed, then looked away. "Probably."

Remus made a show of taking a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. "You smelled like sex," he continued, "and come, and the floor of a forest."

Bill closed his eyes.

"Did you leave my house and go to a forest, Bill?"

The younger man paused, then nodded.

"You were so hard when you left, god, you were so close, weren't you?"

Bill moaned.

He cleared his throat, his own desire pulsing hard through his body now at the memory of what had happened – or almost happened – between them that morning, then dropped his voice. "Did you touch yourself? Tell me."

"Fuck," Bill muttered. "Of course I did." He laughed suddenly. "And then I didn't."

"Mm." Remus groaned. "You didn't even have to, did you? God, Bill, I remember what that's like, but thank you for reminding me. It's been years."

"Yeah, well, it had been for me, too," Bill muttered, then cursed and looked away.

Remus regarded him. "You need to recognise what that is, Bill – that's how much desire is inside you right now. A fistfight makes your cock harden, and the smell of blood makes it harden even more, and the taste of blood, god, it will just about undo you. Add to that the sound of my voice in your ear, whispering filthy things you aren't supposed to want, things about cocks, and sucking, and licking, and tasting, and fucking…" He paused, biting his lip at the sight of the flush creeping up Bill's cheeks. "Well. Let's just say it's no wonder you can come without anyone laying a hand on you."

He leaned into the counter again, ready for Bill's next tirade against him, surely to come in the wake of such blatant provocation. He wasn't quite ready for Bill to stop fighting, though, and he had to stifle his own moan at what Bill did next.

Eyes closed, as though he could pretend Remus wasn't there, Bill dropped his right hand to his groin and pressed. He cupped himself hard, wasting no time with delicate gestures or teasing as he ground his palm against his cock.

Remus shook himself out of his paralysed stare, realising he would have to act quickly if he didn't want Bill to bring himself off in the next four seconds – and he didn't. He had other plans for Bill tonight. "Stop that," he ordered, his voice quiet but fierce.

Bill stilled his hand, but didn't move it away. He opened his eyes and Remus saw the flicker of defiance there, combined with anguish and an utter lack of control. "I can't," he whispered. "Just- let me–"

"I said," Remus repeated slowly, "stop."

Bill's gaze was furious, but he obeyed, lifting his hand with great reluctance and balling it into a fist at his side. Remus's eyes fell to the pronounced hardness under the man's trousers, and he had to fight the urge to grasp it himself, continuing where Bill had left off. No, he admonished himself. Not until later.

"Come here," he said quietly, beckoning with two fingers again. Bill's chest was heaving, and his internal conflict showed on his face. Remus knew his young protégé was still fighting his dominance urges as well as his sexual needs, still wishing he was the mild-mannered wizard of a month ago, who could leave all this behind, join his fiancée in the living room, and just snuggle and fall asleep. Slowly, Remus could see, the young werewolf was realising that he wasn't that wizard anymore – not this close to the full moon, at least.

But after only a few seconds' hesitation, Bill followed the order, moving silently across the kitchen to stand in front of Remus.

Remus smiled at him. "That's it," he whispered. "You're doing very well, Bill. If you continue to follow orders so nicely, you'll get your reward."

He growled at Bill's sharp intake of breath. "Don't fucking play with me," Bill hissed, and Remus brought a hand up to Bill's face, cradling his chin between a thumb and forefinger and forcing the man's gaze.

"No games," he promised, implicitly extracting the pledge from Bill as well. He swept his thumb over Bill's bottom lip then, his own desire raging in his body, and he almost lost all control when Bill leaned forward and took the thumb into his mouth, eyes locked on Remus's.

The swollen lips sucked the thumb in just barely, just halfway, just long enough to flick a tongue against the tip, before releasing it, moving backwards a fraction to allow it to slip out of his mouth.

Remus's blood surged, his cock hot and hard against the confines of his trousers, but still, he fought for control. "You think you know what you're doing, do you?" he whispered, as Bill smirked, clearly thinking he had just scored a point. "This is my call, wolf," Remus added, "and you'll do well to remember that. After all–" He narrowed his eyes – "you obey, or you won't get what you want."

Bill's face shuttered, rage flashing through his eyes again, and Remus stepped forward to grasp him around the back of the neck. He leaned close, ensuring Bill would be able to smell the testosterone, the dominance, the desire on him.

"On your knees," he ordered.

Bill went still. His eyes flashed as they held Remus's gaze, and Remus could see the yearning in them to say No, to fight, to walk away, but beyond that, also the trembling urge to do it.

Remus waited. He would give the young werewolf five more seconds to obey, before making him pay for his insolence.

Bill swallowed.

Four… three…

Consciously or not, Bill slowly licked his lips, his tongue lingering between his teeth as his mouth parted. Remus knew then that he had won.

Two… one…

Bill dropped to his knees.

Grasping Remus's trouser placket with firm hands, he unbuckled the belt and tore open the fastenings, momentarily fisting the hardness under Remus's pants before shoving them aside.

Remus watched him, eyes hooded with desire and the satisfaction of an order obeyed. When Bill had freed Remus's cock, wrapping his hand around the base, he glanced up inquiringly. Before Remus could give him further direction, Bill locked his gaze on Remus, slipped his tongue out, and licked, flat and wet up the underside of Remus's shaft.

Remus breathed deeply, relishing the feel of a thick, male tongue on him again, but held Bill's gaze, refusing to lose control just yet. "That's good," he whispered. "Show me how you'd want it."

Bill watched him for another second, then bent his head in again, laving his tongue against the tip. Gripping the base with one hand, he pressed Remus's cock against his closed lips, sliding it up and inhaling deeply.

"Open your mouth," Remus growled, grasping a handful of Bill's hair. He didn't push forward, not yet, but he needed to let Bill know that he would – in a heartbeat – if his orders weren't obeyed. "Good," he breathed, as he felt Bill's lips part around him, and that warm mouth take him in slowly, inch by inch. He gripped the edge of the countertop with one hand and Bill's head with the other, determined not to lose control too soon.

He was just starting to relax and let his guard down a bit, content in the pleasure of his cock in a young werewolf's mouth, when Bill started to sputter. Fuck.

Bill had taken him about halfway, but in a fit of coughing he pulled back, sitting back on his heels as he gazed at the floor for a moment. "I- can't do this," he muttered.

Remus grabbed hold of his jaw again and forced his eyes up. "What did I tell you five minutes ago?" he demanded, anger surging in his veins.

Bill stared at him but didn't answer.

Releasing the man's jaw, Remus lifted his right foot and planted it squarely in Bill's lap where he sat kneeling on the floor, grinding it in hard. A deep groan of shock and pleasure rumbled from Bill's throat as Remus pushed his foot up and down, glaring down at the younger man on the floor.

"Feel good?" he asked angrily, and Bill could only close his eyes and nod. He gave one last push before lifting his foot away, snarling as Bill met his eyes again. "No. Games," he warned. "Two choices, Bill: you can spend the rest of your life challenging me, or you can give in and submit to an arrangement with me, whereby you give me what I want, and in return, I give you what you want. It's very easy tonight – suck my cock, and you'll get your reward."

Bill's eyes had fallen back to Remus's erection, still straining from his unfastened trousers.

"You liked it," Remus pressed, dropping his voice to a whisper again. "I saw you, smelling and tasting and licking. You liked it, and you want to do it again, don't you?"

Bill's breath came rapidly as his eyes flickered up to Remus, then narrowed. "You talk too fucking much, you know that?" he spat, and in another second, he grabbed either side of Remus's trousers and pulled, hauling himself back to his knees and shoving Remus's cock into his mouth in a single rough movement.

Remus groaned at the jumble of lips and teeth, not caring one whit about finesse at the moment, just needing it hard and now. The anger and desire mixing in his body created a violent passion, and he suspected it was the same for Bill. He couldn't resist anymore – he grasped the back of Bill's head and thrust, forcing himself down the man's throat.

But Bill didn't bite, or stop, or try to pull away this time. He only growled, the vibrations flying straight from Remus's cock up his spine, as Bill sank his fingers into Remus's hips and sucked, hard, meeting Remus's every desperate thrust.

Remus pounded, pulling at Bill's hair and bruising the back of his neck, watching Bill's darkened lips take him in, over and over again, clawing at his hips, needing it. The pressure built quickly, uncoiling in his belly and down the insides of his thighs, and he felt the paralysing release of a near-moon night, coming hard and desperate into Bill's mouth.

He remained coherent enough to notice that Bill sucked well, freezing in place as Remus's release filled his mouth. "Don't swallow," Remus ordered, his voice hoarse, and Bill jerked his eyes up then, wide and wild. "Up." Remus hauled him to his feet, tearing at Bill's trousers and shoving them down to find his angry, long-denied cock. "Good boy," he breathed into Bill's ear, spinning him around and bending him over the counter.

Bill moaned in desperation, his lips sealed tight.

"Now," Remus commanded, his hand over Bill's mouth. "Spit."

Bill couldn't have disobeyed if he wanted to, parting his lips and coughing as Remus accepted his own release in his palm.

"God, touch me," Bill groaned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and Remus smiled.

"I will," he promised, then cupped his hands together, coating his fingers. "God, do you smell that?" He inhaled, all his senses on fire.

"Yes." Bill was panting now, hard and desperate. "You smell incredible. Fuck, just–"

"I said, I will," Remus snapped, his left hand falling just below Bill's cock. "But I want you to enjoy something first." He reached low and circled Bill's sac with his thumb and two fingers, pulling hard to the side.

Bill gave a shout of pain and frustration.

"So," Remus said casually, ignoring him, as he moved the moistened fingertips of his right hand together. "You've had a cock–" He trailed the fingers down the swell of Bill's arse – "and if my guess is right, you've had a wand–" He snaked the fingers lower, delighting in Bill's involuntary tremble. "I wonder if you'd like something different this time…?" He pushed a finger inside Bill, deep and hard, eased by the trail of come and saliva.

Bill's cry of surprise immediately turned to a groan, and he pushed his hips back in search of further contact. "Fuck, yes," he murmured, eyes squeezed closed.

Remus pressed into his back, roughly adding a second finger as he whispered in Bill's ear, "You are so gorgeous, begging me like this, oh yes, my hot young werewolf, you stay with me and you'll get everything you need…" He twisted the fingers and Bill fell across the counter with a shout, clawing at the surface and gasping for breath. "Will you scream for me, werewolf?" Remus purred in Bill's ear, fucking him in earnest now with his fingers.

"Yes, god– "

"Will you come for me, when I say?" He tightened the grip of his other hand around Bill's balls, causing the man to whimper.

"Yes, fuck yeah…"

He pushed his hand in furiously, not even bothering with the finesse of a proper prostate massage – Bill was too far gone to have noticed it anyway – focused only on brutal thrusts against it, knowing that every stroke was pushing Bill further towards the edge. "You've been very good tonight," he whispered, as his left hand released Bill's sac and moved swiftly to his cock, gripping it with hard, desperate strokes. "Now, Bill," he demanded, feeling the man begin to clench around him and jerk violently. "Come for me, now!"

Bill shouted and collapsed over the counter as Remus's hands worked him, riding out his release with him and holding him up when trembling legs threatened to buckle underneath him.

"Yes, just like that, let it go, let it all go…" Remus continued to pour filth in the other man's ear as he came, relishing the fact that this round had gone exactly as he wanted, and Bill was finally learning that obedience could have its rewards. He stilled his hands and hovered over Bill's back for a moment, his head dropping to the back of Bill's neck. He breathed in the scent of their mutual release, tingeing the air around them and hanging on their clothes and skin. "Mine," he whispered, feeling the hairs on the back of Bill's neck prickle at his breath.

Reluctantly, he pulled away and muttered a quick cleaning charm on his hands, then tucked himself back into his trousers. He ignored, for the time being, his own renewed arousal at the sight and smell and feel of Bill's release. Now that the more violent desires of the wolf were sated, he could safely let Tonks take care of him later.

He grabbed his cloak from where it hung over a kitchen chair and headed for the back door. When he looked back over his shoulder, Bill was still slumped over the counter, trousers down and chest heaving. "Do thank your mother for dinner for me, would you?" he called pleasantly. "And if you… need anything… before the moon, just let me know."

With a small smile, and a rather grand feeling of satisfaction, he was gone.

~~

to be continued in Chapter 6