[Fiction] What He Asked Of Me
What He Asked Of Me
Author: fallen-angel-of-repression
Series: Harry Potter
Pairing: Severus/Remus
Genre: Romance/Angst
Word Count: 100 x 4
Progress: Complete.
Notes: M. Non-AU. For the following: snupin100 (challenge: 229- hot and cold); 52_flavours (prompt: 8- And turn and go up to the open door boldly, / And knock to the echoes as beggars for roses)
Summary: The request I could not ever complete.
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Fuck me, he asked of me.
It was exactly three days, four hours and twenty-seven minutes until the Wolfsbane had to be ingested or the potion would not work properly. I kept track every moment within those final seven days: Albus gave me the responsibility to care for the man's illness, and to disappoint-to put my students and coworkers at risk-could not happen. I kept track every second and watched as his skin progressively flushed with the power of the oncoming full moon.
I had kept track every moment, except during that night. And many nights after that.
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Love me, he asked of me.
In his voice there was a peculiar inflexion of wolfish ruggedness and savagery: one that made clear that the lust writhing through him led him to this boldness. I nearly remove myself from within his scorching heat due to my disgust at the clearly irrational comment. The full moon fast approached (Remus had but three hours until his body churned with his metamorphosis), and the beast had already reared its feral snout. He was losing his mind and clarity earlier than usual, and I should have left him; but instead, I fucked him harder.
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Love me instead of her, he asked of me.
He looked ridiculous. Standing naked there in front of the window, he clutched onto the ledge with a strange aggression for this time of the month (there was still three weeks, one day, nineteen hours and forty-seven minutes until the absolute last minute that Wolfsbane could be ingested). His unruly hair tumbled around his face, and his frame was as starved as ever; yet, he still managed to stand with determination. Despite his actions, however, his words rang only of softness-weakness: of a sorrow which I was sure the cause of.
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Love me as if I were her-just love me, Severus, he asked of me.
I hit him then, and he fell to my chambers' floor with a harrowing thud. He laid still-shocked and hurt-broken and willing to accept whatever else I had to offer him... although I had nothing. There was nothing for me to give him. I had lost myself to an obsession long ago, and... and I would not get to fuck him if he left me. I could not have him leave me, but I did not tell him this. Instead, I ordered him to remove his clothing.