_smoke_ (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} _smoke_) wrote,@ 2006-12-11 09:48:00 |
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Title: Hunter's Moon
Author: smoke
Rating: NC17
Pairing: RL/SS
Challenge: Christmas Kink 2006, Pervy Werewolf Fanciers
Summary/Warning:Written for
snegurochka_lee who asked for "Bestiality, baby!" Hope you like it.Notes: Thanks to
busaikko for the beta and writing help.Bloody werewolf.
Snape stood in the back yard of their cottage. His breath, coming in quick, shallow bursts, frosted in the chill night air. His fists were clenched at his sides, and every muscle ached with tension. As pride battled with fear, he could no more retreat than he could go forward.
Where had the bugger run off to?
I'm going to turn that mangy cur into a rug, so help me.
In the thick woods beyond the field, an owl called, and a fox barked an answer. Big and bright, the Hunter's Moon rode the cloudless sky casting cold, merciless light on all the creatures who spent their lives in fear of being eaten.
Snape swallowed on a parched throat. He had promised. The bloody werewolf had worn him down and he'd promised, but this wasn't part of the deal. He'd said the wolf could fuck him; he'd never said the beast could hunt him.
Brilliant flashes of memory held him rooted to the spot. The close feel of tunnel walls that forced him to walk stooped under the crumbling ceiling, the damp smell of earth thick in his throat, and then the sudden snarl, the glowing eyes, the wicked teeth dripping saliva that reflected back his wand's light. A hand grabbing his collar, yanking him backward, then darkness as his wand went out. Darkness, and the savage snarling, and the fear.
Snape wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He couldn't do this.
Lying by the fire, sleepy and sated from lovemaking, the flames dancing in Lupin's eyes, it hadn't seemed like a bad idea. He was used to the wolf docile with the Wolfsbane. He had even, he blushed at the thought, enjoyed the long, strong tongue of the beast as it worked over every inch of his body, seeking out every nook and cranny until Snape was quaking, begging for release. Lupin had tantalized him with whispered suggestions of overwhelmingly powerful fucking, not lovemaking but pure animalistic rutting: all instinct, all lust, no delicacy. He'd teased Snape with the knowledge that the wolf could mate over and over during the course of a night, with how the wolf would hold him in the powerful grip of his front legs, pulling him back even as he drove his long, pointed cock deep inside. Did Snape know that the canine cock had a bone in it? Lupin had assured him that it did, and had smiled knowingly. Did Snape know that there was a knot at the base of the wolf's cock that swelled, locking the wolf inside his mate's body while he pumped buckets of come deep into the trapped "bitch?"
Buckets? Snape had asked, raising an eyebrow.
Feels like it, Lupin assured him. Because the wolf's body temperature was higher than a man's, Snape would feel the come flood his belly, filling him full. Making you mine, Lupin had whispered.
So Snape had agreed. And now the bloody idiot had taken off, answering the call of the Hunter's Moon, tasting the crisp night air as though it were a fine wine, enjoying himself while Snape stood paralyzed by fear in the garden.
Somewhere in the distance, a howl floated up on the still air. It rolled over the hills and trickled down Snape's spine like a rivulet of icy water, making him shiver violently. It was a sound that had made men tremble for thousands of years, and the fact that it was Snape's lover and not some slavering beast mattered little.
It's Lupin, Snape reminded himself as he clenched his teeth. Lupin, with his strong arms, sure hands, and wicked, wicked tongue. Lupin, who made him forget that he was ugly, forget that he was hated. Lupin, who trusted him to be unafraid. He crossed his arms and braced his feet. Lupin would not hurt him. He would not retreat before childhood fears.
A dark form broke from the blackness of the woods, running easily over the field. Long-legged and graceful, the loping strides ate up the distance to where Snape stood. The beast's shadow ran beside it, huge and distorted as it skimmed lightly over the sparkling, frosty grass.
It's Lupin, Snape thought, trying to drown out the raising clamor of panic in his mind.
The werewolf leapt the low wall effortlessly and skidded to a halt a few feet in front of Snape, big, triangular ears pricked, plume of a tail waving gently, and obscenely long tongue lolling like a big dog's. His breath came in great gusts, smoky in the frigid air.
Annoyance pricked at his fear and he embraced it thankfully. "I suppose you think you're cute?"
The beast came forward, and with a soft whine, pushed his icy, wet nose into Snape's palm.
Snape yelped in surprise, then wiped his hand on his robes. "If you're done cavorting about, how about coming inside where it's warm?"
Lupin wagged his tail, and Snape turned, leading the way into the house with what he hoped was a steady step.
Once inside, Snape locked the door, and with a sigh, settled on the couch in front of the fire. Lupin whined, then, placing a paw on either side of Snape, he rose and looked him in the eye.
"Oh." Snape started to tremble as the last of the fear melted into anticipation.
Lupin sank back to the floor, took a mouthful of Snape's robes and tugged, then released them and laid his head on Snape's knee.
"Right then." Snape's hands shook as he started to unfasten his robes, and Lupin rose again. This time, he nuzzled Snape's throat, his warm tongue darting out in short strokes to taste Snape's neck. Snape groaned and let his head fall back against the couch giving Lupin all the access he wanted. Lupin carefully licked his way to Snape's ear where the warm, whiskery breath made Snape laugh.
"All right, Lupin." Snape pushed the big canine gently away. "Yes, it's you." He stood and unfastened his robes the rest of the way, letting them pool at his feet with a whisper of wool. He dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around the strong neck and burying his face in the heavy coat. It smelled of leaves and moonlight and winter air. It smelled of his lover.