_smoke_ (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} _smoke_) wrote,@ 2005-07-07 14:21:00 |
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Fic: ~Power Play~ NC-17, Epilogue
Title: Power Play
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: D/s, BDSM, violence, bestiality, graphic sex.
Summary: Lupin was surprised to learn of Snape’s submissive side, and stunned when the Potions Master offered that submission up as a gift to him. He grabbed it without thinking, but did the werewolf bite off more than he could chew?
Notes: Two parts - complete. A little angst, but mostly an excuse to write smut. Set in the first half of the school year after OotP, but written before HBP.
Many thanks to Odd Doll and Snegurochka for their excellent work as betas.
~~Power Play~~
Epilogue
Snape sat at his desk, trying to correct essays. The tall clock in the corner ticked the minutes away past ten, the sound barely audible over the rattle of sleet against the window.
Snape looked at the clock for what must have been the eighth time in ten minutes.
Where the bloody hell was Lupin?
All right. He said he’d be gone for a few days. He didn’t say when he’d be back. And it wasn’t as though Snape had told him this was his birthday. He had intended to, but Lupin hadn’t come back in time. It was unreasonable and petulant of Snape to be annoyed with Lupin for not being there. Fine. So he was being unreasonable and petulant.
Where was that werewolf?
He was up to something. These last few weeks, he’d sent and received an inordinate number of owls. He’d gone off for two or three days at a time with no explanation. Not that he needed to give one. Sure, he had basically moved into Snape’s rooms at Hogwarts, but it wasn’t as though either one of them had to account for every minute of every day.
Snape started to pace.
A cold sweat beaded his skin. What if Lupin was...? No. He wasn’t. He wouldn’t. He’d given his word. Snape wiped a hand over his face. No.
But, what if he was? Snape started to tremble. No. He wasn’t.
Damn it all! Stop acting like some needy adolescent. The man gave you his word and he has never gone back on it. Be an adult, sit down and get those papers corrected. So it’s your birthday. So fucking what.
He sat.
Was Lupin angry with him?
His mind wandered back over the events of the night before Lupin had left.
~~
They were in the sitting room reading, each in their own chair, the small table with the lamp between them. Snape wasn’t sure how long Lupin had been staring at him when he looked up to meet the intense gaze of Lupin’s light blue eyes.
The look had gone straight to his cock with a jolt like lightning. He could tell by Lupin’s slow smile that the werewolf was perfectly aware of the effect he had on him. Lupin set his book aside and tapped the inside of his thigh with two fingers.
Snape was on his knees, reaching for the buttons on Lupin’s trousers, before he was aware of moving. He settled his knees comfortably on the rug, and extracted Lupin’s growing member carefully from his clothes. Raising himself slightly to get the angle just right, he slipped Lupin’s cock all the way down his throat.
Lupin gasped and bucked up into Snape’s mouth. Snape drew back a bit, wrapping his fingers around the growing shaft and working them together with his lips and tongue. A deep groan came from Lupin, and Snape glanced up at him. His head was tipped back against the chair, his eyes closed, his face slack.
Now, if I just do...this.
A strangled cry came from Lupin, and his face grimaced in pleasure. Snape felt a rush of power. He could play Lupin like an instrument, guide his pleasure, and bring him off just when he wanted.
Lupin, of course, had the same power over him.
Snape had never had feelings for his sexual partners before, beyond the occasional grudging respect for a good Dominant. He had never desired their company, never craved their touch. He had taken what they could give him, paid for it more than adequately with his submission, and gone home. It had frightened him more than a little to discover how different things were with Lupin. The man’s touch was sure, confident, masterful, always knowing what Snape wanted almost before Snape did himself. Always looking for what Snape wanted. But there was more to it than that. Snape could give himself up to Lupin with an abandon he had never felt before. He felt no reserve, no doubts. He could disengage his mind, let his body float on pure sensation, and be secure in the knowledge that he was utterly safe. He could give Lupin his power and fly free.
The man could undo him. Lupin could crack Snape’s carefully maintained mask, and have him whimpering and begging like some untrained amateur in a matter of minutes. Snape had hated that at first, hated losing his control, but had now come to crave the feeling of totally letting go. The effect this had on Lupin made it even more worthwhile. Lupin loved to see Snape writhe under his hands, and the power would shift again. Snape could please Lupin with his own pleasure; he could hold the power, or give it up. It was an intoxicating dance, and one that frightened Snape.
Snape increased the pressure and speed of his strokes, and brought Lupin smoothly and steadily to climax. He milked every bit of come he could from the shuddering wizard, then rising, put a knee on each side of Lupin’s hips, and straddled his lap. Placing his hands on the back of the chair, he ducked his head, fastened his mouth firmly on Lupin’s, thrust his tongue between his teeth, and fed Lupin back his own release.
Lupin gave a muffled cry of surprise, then eagerly sucked his own juices off Snape’s tongue. His tongue sought the corners of Snape’s mouth, searching for every last bit of himself.
When Snape pulled away, Lupin reached forward and ran his tongue over Snape’s lips, then licked his own and smiled lazily.
His hands went to Snape’s waistband, and Snape rose a bit to allow Lupin easier access to his body. When Lupin had freed his shaft and wrapped it in the warmth of his hand, Snape sat back and waited.
Lupin cocked his head, and studied Snape. His free hand came up, smoothing the long hair back from Snape’s face. “And how would my submissive like to have his pleasure tonight?” Lupin’s voice was soft and seductive, and Snape shivered.
Snape leaned his forearms on the back of the chair, and nuzzled along Lupin’s jaw.
“I think I would like you to jerk me off while I kiss you.” He nipped Lupin’s earlobe.
“Mmmm,” Lupin leaned his head back and opened his mouth slightly, inviting Snape inside.
Snape devoured him, his kiss growing more and more punishing as Lupin brought him closer and closer to release. When he came, he growled into Lupin’s mouth, thrusting his tongue deep inside.
When he stopped shuddering and withdrew his lips, there was blood on the corner of Lupin’s mouth. Snape leaned in and licked it off, then planted a soft kiss on the injured spot.
Lupin raised his hand, covered in Snape’s come, and keeping his eyes fastened on Snape’s, started to lick his fingers clean. Snape bent down, his tongue seeking the backs of Lupin’s fingers, swirling over and between them until the tongues and fingers tangled. Lupin’s hand slid into Snape’s hair and the kiss deepened once more.
~~
There had been nothing in Lupin’s demeanor to indicate any displeasure with Snape. Nothing, when they went to bed later, to hint that he wasn’t satisfied with his lover. No anger in his lingering kiss. Lupin had simply gone away for a few days, and it was nothing for Snape to worry about. Certainly nothing to be obsessing over like some hormone-driven teen.
Snape picked up an essay and went back to work.
Some twenty minutes later, he was startled into dropping his quill when a tapping came at the window. Forcing the casement open against the wind, he allowed a very soggy gray owl to hop onto the ledge. It shook itself vigorously, raining icy drops in a two-foot circle, then held out a leg to him.
The note was a business card for an inn called the Archery Tavern. The address was the W2 area of London. Frowning, Snape turned the card over. In Lupin’s untidy scrawl on the back was the single word – “Now” – followed by a set of Apparation coordinates.
Snape opened the window for the owl, then absently sat on the wet sill.
What the hell was Lupin up to?
He wandered into the bedroom. Pulling open the wardrobe, he glowered at the contents.
Muggle London.
All right.
A pub.
Fine.
What kind of a pub?
Who knew?
Lupin had summoned him. It never occurred to him not to go.
Snape tossed off the old dressing gown he’d been wearing and pulled on jeans, his tall black boots, a white shirt, and finished off with a thigh-length leather coat impeccably tailored in thin black calfskin.
He pulled on a heavy cloak, and extinguishing the lights, left his rooms. At the castle door, he drew his hood well forward, took a deep breath and slipped out into the howling winter gale. Squelching over the grounds to the Apparation point, he thought of all the curses he would rain down on Lupin if the werewolf was just having him on.
Once in the clearing, he cast a protective charm around himself so he could remove the cloak without getting drenched. He shook off the water and shrank the cloak to the size of a handkerchief, then folded it neatly. He considered, for a moment, stuffing it in a back pocket, but thought Lupin might not see the humor in such a gesture. Instead, he slid it into a pocket of the coat and Apparated to the coordinates Lupin had sent.
He arrived in an alley, behind a large number of overflowing bins. Stepping carefully to the street, he looked both ways. Next to him was an ancient pub, the painted wooden sign proclaiming it to be the Archery Tavern.
Pulling open the door, he stepped into the dim, smoky interior of a classic English pub. Instantly, he saw a raised hand from a booth in the back corner, and made his way through the crowded room to where Lupin sat with another man.
Lupin slid over on the bench, and Snape sat beside him, scowling to hide his nerves. The man across from them was about twenty, with rich brown skin and silky black curls that brushed against his collar.
“Severus, this is Artemis. You remember, I told you about meeting him last summer in Greece?”
Snape briefly raised an eyebrow at Lupin for the irony of his statement, and then turned to the young man.
Artemis’ lively dark eyes inspected Snape.
“Remus has told me much about you.” A shy, but knowing smile curved his full lips.
Lupin leaned over and spoke close to Snape’s ear.
“Happy Birthday, Severus.”
********************************
The End
The story continues with The Greek Boy: An Introduction to Submission in which Lupin searches out the Greek Boy, and with his permission, presents him to Snape for a night of pleasure.
Title: Power Play
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: D/s, BDSM, violence, bestiality, graphic sex.
Summary: Lupin was surprised to learn of Snape’s submissive side, and stunned when the Potions Master offered that submission up as a gift to him. He grabbed it without thinking, but did the werewolf bite off more than he could chew?
Notes: Two parts - complete. A little angst, but mostly an excuse to write smut. Set in the first half of the school year after OotP, but written before HBP.
Many thanks to Odd Doll and Snegurochka for their excellent work as betas.
Epilogue
Snape sat at his desk, trying to correct essays. The tall clock in the corner ticked the minutes away past ten, the sound barely audible over the rattle of sleet against the window.
Snape looked at the clock for what must have been the eighth time in ten minutes.
Where the bloody hell was Lupin?
All right. He said he’d be gone for a few days. He didn’t say when he’d be back. And it wasn’t as though Snape had told him this was his birthday. He had intended to, but Lupin hadn’t come back in time. It was unreasonable and petulant of Snape to be annoyed with Lupin for not being there. Fine. So he was being unreasonable and petulant.
Where was that werewolf?
He was up to something. These last few weeks, he’d sent and received an inordinate number of owls. He’d gone off for two or three days at a time with no explanation. Not that he needed to give one. Sure, he had basically moved into Snape’s rooms at Hogwarts, but it wasn’t as though either one of them had to account for every minute of every day.
Snape started to pace.
A cold sweat beaded his skin. What if Lupin was...? No. He wasn’t. He wouldn’t. He’d given his word. Snape wiped a hand over his face. No.
But, what if he was? Snape started to tremble. No. He wasn’t.
Damn it all! Stop acting like some needy adolescent. The man gave you his word and he has never gone back on it. Be an adult, sit down and get those papers corrected. So it’s your birthday. So fucking what.
He sat.
Was Lupin angry with him?
His mind wandered back over the events of the night before Lupin had left.
They were in the sitting room reading, each in their own chair, the small table with the lamp between them. Snape wasn’t sure how long Lupin had been staring at him when he looked up to meet the intense gaze of Lupin’s light blue eyes.
The look had gone straight to his cock with a jolt like lightning. He could tell by Lupin’s slow smile that the werewolf was perfectly aware of the effect he had on him. Lupin set his book aside and tapped the inside of his thigh with two fingers.
Snape was on his knees, reaching for the buttons on Lupin’s trousers, before he was aware of moving. He settled his knees comfortably on the rug, and extracted Lupin’s growing member carefully from his clothes. Raising himself slightly to get the angle just right, he slipped Lupin’s cock all the way down his throat.
Lupin gasped and bucked up into Snape’s mouth. Snape drew back a bit, wrapping his fingers around the growing shaft and working them together with his lips and tongue. A deep groan came from Lupin, and Snape glanced up at him. His head was tipped back against the chair, his eyes closed, his face slack.
Now, if I just do...this.
A strangled cry came from Lupin, and his face grimaced in pleasure. Snape felt a rush of power. He could play Lupin like an instrument, guide his pleasure, and bring him off just when he wanted.
Lupin, of course, had the same power over him.
Snape had never had feelings for his sexual partners before, beyond the occasional grudging respect for a good Dominant. He had never desired their company, never craved their touch. He had taken what they could give him, paid for it more than adequately with his submission, and gone home. It had frightened him more than a little to discover how different things were with Lupin. The man’s touch was sure, confident, masterful, always knowing what Snape wanted almost before Snape did himself. Always looking for what Snape wanted. But there was more to it than that. Snape could give himself up to Lupin with an abandon he had never felt before. He felt no reserve, no doubts. He could disengage his mind, let his body float on pure sensation, and be secure in the knowledge that he was utterly safe. He could give Lupin his power and fly free.
The man could undo him. Lupin could crack Snape’s carefully maintained mask, and have him whimpering and begging like some untrained amateur in a matter of minutes. Snape had hated that at first, hated losing his control, but had now come to crave the feeling of totally letting go. The effect this had on Lupin made it even more worthwhile. Lupin loved to see Snape writhe under his hands, and the power would shift again. Snape could please Lupin with his own pleasure; he could hold the power, or give it up. It was an intoxicating dance, and one that frightened Snape.
Snape increased the pressure and speed of his strokes, and brought Lupin smoothly and steadily to climax. He milked every bit of come he could from the shuddering wizard, then rising, put a knee on each side of Lupin’s hips, and straddled his lap. Placing his hands on the back of the chair, he ducked his head, fastened his mouth firmly on Lupin’s, thrust his tongue between his teeth, and fed Lupin back his own release.
Lupin gave a muffled cry of surprise, then eagerly sucked his own juices off Snape’s tongue. His tongue sought the corners of Snape’s mouth, searching for every last bit of himself.
When Snape pulled away, Lupin reached forward and ran his tongue over Snape’s lips, then licked his own and smiled lazily.
His hands went to Snape’s waistband, and Snape rose a bit to allow Lupin easier access to his body. When Lupin had freed his shaft and wrapped it in the warmth of his hand, Snape sat back and waited.
Lupin cocked his head, and studied Snape. His free hand came up, smoothing the long hair back from Snape’s face. “And how would my submissive like to have his pleasure tonight?” Lupin’s voice was soft and seductive, and Snape shivered.
Snape leaned his forearms on the back of the chair, and nuzzled along Lupin’s jaw.
“I think I would like you to jerk me off while I kiss you.” He nipped Lupin’s earlobe.
“Mmmm,” Lupin leaned his head back and opened his mouth slightly, inviting Snape inside.
Snape devoured him, his kiss growing more and more punishing as Lupin brought him closer and closer to release. When he came, he growled into Lupin’s mouth, thrusting his tongue deep inside.
When he stopped shuddering and withdrew his lips, there was blood on the corner of Lupin’s mouth. Snape leaned in and licked it off, then planted a soft kiss on the injured spot.
Lupin raised his hand, covered in Snape’s come, and keeping his eyes fastened on Snape’s, started to lick his fingers clean. Snape bent down, his tongue seeking the backs of Lupin’s fingers, swirling over and between them until the tongues and fingers tangled. Lupin’s hand slid into Snape’s hair and the kiss deepened once more.
There had been nothing in Lupin’s demeanor to indicate any displeasure with Snape. Nothing, when they went to bed later, to hint that he wasn’t satisfied with his lover. No anger in his lingering kiss. Lupin had simply gone away for a few days, and it was nothing for Snape to worry about. Certainly nothing to be obsessing over like some hormone-driven teen.
Snape picked up an essay and went back to work.
Some twenty minutes later, he was startled into dropping his quill when a tapping came at the window. Forcing the casement open against the wind, he allowed a very soggy gray owl to hop onto the ledge. It shook itself vigorously, raining icy drops in a two-foot circle, then held out a leg to him.
The note was a business card for an inn called the Archery Tavern. The address was the W2 area of London. Frowning, Snape turned the card over. In Lupin’s untidy scrawl on the back was the single word – “Now” – followed by a set of Apparation coordinates.
Snape opened the window for the owl, then absently sat on the wet sill.
What the hell was Lupin up to?
He wandered into the bedroom. Pulling open the wardrobe, he glowered at the contents.
Muggle London.
All right.
A pub.
Fine.
What kind of a pub?
Who knew?
Lupin had summoned him. It never occurred to him not to go.
Snape tossed off the old dressing gown he’d been wearing and pulled on jeans, his tall black boots, a white shirt, and finished off with a thigh-length leather coat impeccably tailored in thin black calfskin.
He pulled on a heavy cloak, and extinguishing the lights, left his rooms. At the castle door, he drew his hood well forward, took a deep breath and slipped out into the howling winter gale. Squelching over the grounds to the Apparation point, he thought of all the curses he would rain down on Lupin if the werewolf was just having him on.
Once in the clearing, he cast a protective charm around himself so he could remove the cloak without getting drenched. He shook off the water and shrank the cloak to the size of a handkerchief, then folded it neatly. He considered, for a moment, stuffing it in a back pocket, but thought Lupin might not see the humor in such a gesture. Instead, he slid it into a pocket of the coat and Apparated to the coordinates Lupin had sent.
He arrived in an alley, behind a large number of overflowing bins. Stepping carefully to the street, he looked both ways. Next to him was an ancient pub, the painted wooden sign proclaiming it to be the Archery Tavern.
Pulling open the door, he stepped into the dim, smoky interior of a classic English pub. Instantly, he saw a raised hand from a booth in the back corner, and made his way through the crowded room to where Lupin sat with another man.
Lupin slid over on the bench, and Snape sat beside him, scowling to hide his nerves. The man across from them was about twenty, with rich brown skin and silky black curls that brushed against his collar.
“Severus, this is Artemis. You remember, I told you about meeting him last summer in Greece?”
Snape briefly raised an eyebrow at Lupin for the irony of his statement, and then turned to the young man.
Artemis’ lively dark eyes inspected Snape.
“Remus has told me much about you.” A shy, but knowing smile curved his full lips.
Lupin leaned over and spoke close to Snape’s ear.
“Happy Birthday, Severus.”
********************************
The End
The story continues with The Greek Boy: An Introduction to Submission in which Lupin searches out the Greek Boy, and with his permission, presents him to Snape for a night of pleasure.