Fic: So Close Now, Remus/Bill, R
Oh yeah, so ends my cutting for spoilers. And just in time for my first fic that really uses HBP canon.
For the birthday of persephone56 (and only a bit late):
Title: So Close Now
Pairing: Remus/Bill
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Werewolf sex
Rating: R
"Hey," Remus says softly, perching on the edge of Bill's bed.
Bill smiles, slowly, still cautious with the rips and tears of his face. "You shouldn't be wandering in here of a morning," he says, voice forcedly jolly. "What will my fiancée think?"
Bill has never seen Remus ruffled, and even this comment doesn't disquiet him. Bill is suddenly very aware that the two of them haven't been alone since… since, and what was there either of them could say? Remus could hardly commiserate with him, for Remus himself is the worst off.
"Lucky escape, eh?" Bill says eventually.
A serious nod. "Yes."
"Bet you never thought we'd see the day you were better looking than me."
Remus' careful gaze breaks into a warm smile. "Don't know about that," he says, with a brief arch of his left eyebrow.
"Lucky I secured myself a good woman already, eh?" Bill quips, deciding that it's best to continue with the humour. "And you too, then? Never thought we'd see that day either."
The look Remus gives him this time is more shrewd, perhaps.
"Indeed," is all Remus says in reply. Remus doesn't seem to have slipped in here for a specific conversation, maybe he just thought that just seeing a real, doomed werewolf, greying and weary, would lift Bill's spirits. Bill knows it's vain and weak of him to care, when even Fleur doesn't, but he doesn't want to be speaking those vows through scarred lips, distant relatives staring at his distorted, newly battered face while he stands next to his pristine, beautiful and glowing wife-to-be.
The silence in the bedroom drags, and Bill forces himself to break it. "So, werewolf bites don't heal then."
"No, they don't."
"So…?" It is wrong to ask, but he's allowed to be interested, isn't he?
"You want to see," Remus says. He turns and locks the door with a quick spell, a rather prudish gesture that Bill would have expected from someone like Remus.
What he wouldn't have expected is the easy, relaxed way Remus draws his robes up and over his head, the enticing flex of his arm muscles as he does so, and the smooth, toned skin of his slim chest. Remus Lupin seems to take everything in his stride, though, and he sits back down on the mattress, so Bill can see him clearly.
The scar is large; red-and-white scar-tissue twisting in long ribbons around the right side of his chest, teeth marks stretched and distorted by the long years since the small child Remus Lupin had once been had received that bite. Yes, Remus did indeed have it the worst.
"You win, mate," Bill says, softly, awed.
Remus takes Bill's hand, the one that is involuntarily hovering, reaching, and presses the fingertips to his own skin. Bill can feel Remus' ribcage even as he touches the puffy, damaged flesh, but Remus hardly looks bothered; just watches Bill's face carefully, his light, brown-grey fringe fallen in his almost-coy and curious eyes.
#
The wedding has been arranged so that it falls on the new moon. Someone must have asked Remus when was best, for which Bill is very grateful, because two weeks to go and he's definitely not currently in the mood for family gatherings.
Now, Bill watches Remus, since he saw that scar, because now he has even more questions than before. But he doesn't, because it seems rude; impolite to ask such things of such a private person. Eventually it's all too much, the evening before, because it flames his blood, and is this really how Remus feels too, every time?
He can feel the closeness; a raw aching that feels as if it tugs his emotions almost more than it influences his body, and how can this happen every month? He goes to Remus because there's no-one else he can ask, certainly no-one that wouldn't have to hide their smile or make an inappropriate joke about PMT.
Remus is in the kitchen, pouring himself a generous glass of wine, seemingly happy and relaxed.
"Remus?" Bill asks hoarsely, having tried wine and spirits himself and found nothing at all helpful.
"It’s bad," Remus says with sad eyes.
"Yes, I-"
Remus turns towards him with a sympathetic smile. "You won't transform, Bill."
Bill sags a little, against the kitchen bench and leaning into Remus, comforted by how hot Remus' skin feels too. "Feels like I will," he admits, "feels like now.’
"Twenty-four hours yet," Remus murmurs, stroking his fingers into the small of Bill's back.
"Yes. Sorry, I don’t want to-" He trails off, knowing that I don’t want to rub it in was unnecessary. "My blood itches," he confesses.
"Yes," Remus agrees.
"I want to bite things!"
"Yes." There is a slight element of wickedness in Remus' smile, almost imperceptible.
"You want to bite things too?" Bill asks, forehead pressed to Remus' temple, not bothering to hide the relief in his voice.
"Certainly."
"Like… like what?"
"Well, right now I want to bite into your neck, but I suspect that has nothing to do with eating, so you shouldn’t worry." He pats Bill harmlessly on the back and lets go of him, turning to take up his glass of wine.
"You want to bite me?" Bill blurts out as Remus takes a sip of wine, causing him to peer at Bill over the lip of the glass, his wicked smile almost predatory, and Bill is more than a little captivated. "Is she not enough?" he asks, mocking a little, hoping that he may still hold the upper hand.
"I could say the same to you," Remus replies. Bill can't take his eyes away from the sharp corner of Lupin's smile, and he's been noticing for days the deep glow in the man's eyes and the crackle of something more than magic along his skin.
Remus twists easily and his kiss is full of pointed teeth, lips that are hard and saliva that's so hot it almost burns, and Bill realises that whatever he feels like now he cannot begin to comprehend how Remus feels. Remus is stronger than Bill would ever have guessed, physically stronger, pushes him easily into the kitchen bench and snaps their hips together.
Bill wriggles a little, swivelling his eyes, because he's a taken man, and so is Lupin for that matter, and anyone could walk in. But Remus just holds him tighter, fierce kisses sliding to Bill's cheek and then neck.
"They're all busy in the garden," Remus mumbles. Bill thinks Yeah, and what happens when mum decides that they need more ice, or cake, or something, but Remus jerks his hips rather violently, and Bill is caught between the pain of the sideboard in his spine and the pleasure of Remus biting and tasting him and the shocking fact that Remus is not only kissing him, but wants him too, hard and-
It's a werewolf thing, Bill tells himself, even if he isn't a proper werewolf. They’re both on-edge and twitchy with lust because the full moon is near, and Bill hasn't seen his fiancée for a week since she decided they should abstain from then until their wedding night.
But Remus bites his kisses in deeper, and Bill hadn't realised but his own hands are clutching Remus' head, holding him in place, so he can't stop. There's just something about the man; his wiry body, his hot hands and the flush to his cheeks, and he smells like pure sex, right now, to Bill.
"But-" Bill pleads, as Remus is moving properly now, and though his senses are temporarily overloaded, he's still nervous.
"It helps," Remus explains, popping the top button of Bill's shirt, hands grasping Bill's waist as he presses rough kisses down the centre of Bill's chest. "Always helped me."
Bill is actually surprised to feel a pang of jealousy, at the men who got this before. He's pulling on Remus' hips now and their lips fit together again as they fall into a rough rhythm. Bill's desire feels sharper, more desperate than usual in his new, half-wolf state. But then he isn't used to being dominated, held down, and he isn't used to other men, or the frustratingly ineffectual friction created by Remus' erection and rough-wool robes.
"Enough?" Remus whispers, and Oh, Bill thinks, this man knows what he's doing, because a drive of hips and Bill can feel Remus' cock dragging over the length of his own. It's like nothing he's felt before, Remus pumping against him, almost into him now, and Bill almost feels like he's being fucked.
He snarls a little as Remus' teeth are in his neck again, his own teeth gritted to stop from screaming at the lazy way Remus is shifting his hips that keeps them both right on the edge for far too long. Strangely, it's the sound of Remus coming that pushes him over; a noise that is half gulp, half growl, Remus' body freezing rigid. Bill only needs a couple of heavy twitches of his own hips to finish too, whining as he clasps Remus' body tight to his own, gasps and whimpers wracking both their bodies.
Remus waits a minute, nearly, until their breathing has slowed sufficiently, before pulling away. Still dizzy, Bill watches the other man neaten himself; brushing down his robes and smoothing his hair. He is as unruffled as ever, really, though the spark is ever-present in his brown eyes.
"Got what you wanted, eh?" Bill asks without rancour. He re-fastens the button on his shirt and adjusts the waistband of his tight jeans.
Remus smiles, still that wicked, slow smile, and it still, somehow, has the same effect on Bill, and he already feels quite a pronounced rush of lust. "Not nearly," Remus replies, turning away. Bill can see how little their encounter sated him, that it wasn't anything like enough to calm a full werewolf. But then, it wasn't enough for Bill either.
Bill smiles, as Remus calmly makes his way into the garden, knowing they'll find each other later.
For the birthday of persephone56 (and only a bit late):
Title: So Close Now
Pairing: Remus/Bill
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Werewolf sex
Rating: R
"Hey," Remus says softly, perching on the edge of Bill's bed.
Bill smiles, slowly, still cautious with the rips and tears of his face. "You shouldn't be wandering in here of a morning," he says, voice forcedly jolly. "What will my fiancée think?"
Bill has never seen Remus ruffled, and even this comment doesn't disquiet him. Bill is suddenly very aware that the two of them haven't been alone since… since, and what was there either of them could say? Remus could hardly commiserate with him, for Remus himself is the worst off.
"Lucky escape, eh?" Bill says eventually.
A serious nod. "Yes."
"Bet you never thought we'd see the day you were better looking than me."
Remus' careful gaze breaks into a warm smile. "Don't know about that," he says, with a brief arch of his left eyebrow.
"Lucky I secured myself a good woman already, eh?" Bill quips, deciding that it's best to continue with the humour. "And you too, then? Never thought we'd see that day either."
The look Remus gives him this time is more shrewd, perhaps.
"Indeed," is all Remus says in reply. Remus doesn't seem to have slipped in here for a specific conversation, maybe he just thought that just seeing a real, doomed werewolf, greying and weary, would lift Bill's spirits. Bill knows it's vain and weak of him to care, when even Fleur doesn't, but he doesn't want to be speaking those vows through scarred lips, distant relatives staring at his distorted, newly battered face while he stands next to his pristine, beautiful and glowing wife-to-be.
The silence in the bedroom drags, and Bill forces himself to break it. "So, werewolf bites don't heal then."
"No, they don't."
"So…?" It is wrong to ask, but he's allowed to be interested, isn't he?
"You want to see," Remus says. He turns and locks the door with a quick spell, a rather prudish gesture that Bill would have expected from someone like Remus.
What he wouldn't have expected is the easy, relaxed way Remus draws his robes up and over his head, the enticing flex of his arm muscles as he does so, and the smooth, toned skin of his slim chest. Remus Lupin seems to take everything in his stride, though, and he sits back down on the mattress, so Bill can see him clearly.
The scar is large; red-and-white scar-tissue twisting in long ribbons around the right side of his chest, teeth marks stretched and distorted by the long years since the small child Remus Lupin had once been had received that bite. Yes, Remus did indeed have it the worst.
"You win, mate," Bill says, softly, awed.
Remus takes Bill's hand, the one that is involuntarily hovering, reaching, and presses the fingertips to his own skin. Bill can feel Remus' ribcage even as he touches the puffy, damaged flesh, but Remus hardly looks bothered; just watches Bill's face carefully, his light, brown-grey fringe fallen in his almost-coy and curious eyes.
#
The wedding has been arranged so that it falls on the new moon. Someone must have asked Remus when was best, for which Bill is very grateful, because two weeks to go and he's definitely not currently in the mood for family gatherings.
Now, Bill watches Remus, since he saw that scar, because now he has even more questions than before. But he doesn't, because it seems rude; impolite to ask such things of such a private person. Eventually it's all too much, the evening before, because it flames his blood, and is this really how Remus feels too, every time?
He can feel the closeness; a raw aching that feels as if it tugs his emotions almost more than it influences his body, and how can this happen every month? He goes to Remus because there's no-one else he can ask, certainly no-one that wouldn't have to hide their smile or make an inappropriate joke about PMT.
Remus is in the kitchen, pouring himself a generous glass of wine, seemingly happy and relaxed.
"Remus?" Bill asks hoarsely, having tried wine and spirits himself and found nothing at all helpful.
"It’s bad," Remus says with sad eyes.
"Yes, I-"
Remus turns towards him with a sympathetic smile. "You won't transform, Bill."
Bill sags a little, against the kitchen bench and leaning into Remus, comforted by how hot Remus' skin feels too. "Feels like I will," he admits, "feels like now.’
"Twenty-four hours yet," Remus murmurs, stroking his fingers into the small of Bill's back.
"Yes. Sorry, I don’t want to-" He trails off, knowing that I don’t want to rub it in was unnecessary. "My blood itches," he confesses.
"Yes," Remus agrees.
"I want to bite things!"
"Yes." There is a slight element of wickedness in Remus' smile, almost imperceptible.
"You want to bite things too?" Bill asks, forehead pressed to Remus' temple, not bothering to hide the relief in his voice.
"Certainly."
"Like… like what?"
"Well, right now I want to bite into your neck, but I suspect that has nothing to do with eating, so you shouldn’t worry." He pats Bill harmlessly on the back and lets go of him, turning to take up his glass of wine.
"You want to bite me?" Bill blurts out as Remus takes a sip of wine, causing him to peer at Bill over the lip of the glass, his wicked smile almost predatory, and Bill is more than a little captivated. "Is she not enough?" he asks, mocking a little, hoping that he may still hold the upper hand.
"I could say the same to you," Remus replies. Bill can't take his eyes away from the sharp corner of Lupin's smile, and he's been noticing for days the deep glow in the man's eyes and the crackle of something more than magic along his skin.
Remus twists easily and his kiss is full of pointed teeth, lips that are hard and saliva that's so hot it almost burns, and Bill realises that whatever he feels like now he cannot begin to comprehend how Remus feels. Remus is stronger than Bill would ever have guessed, physically stronger, pushes him easily into the kitchen bench and snaps their hips together.
Bill wriggles a little, swivelling his eyes, because he's a taken man, and so is Lupin for that matter, and anyone could walk in. But Remus just holds him tighter, fierce kisses sliding to Bill's cheek and then neck.
"They're all busy in the garden," Remus mumbles. Bill thinks Yeah, and what happens when mum decides that they need more ice, or cake, or something, but Remus jerks his hips rather violently, and Bill is caught between the pain of the sideboard in his spine and the pleasure of Remus biting and tasting him and the shocking fact that Remus is not only kissing him, but wants him too, hard and-
It's a werewolf thing, Bill tells himself, even if he isn't a proper werewolf. They’re both on-edge and twitchy with lust because the full moon is near, and Bill hasn't seen his fiancée for a week since she decided they should abstain from then until their wedding night.
But Remus bites his kisses in deeper, and Bill hadn't realised but his own hands are clutching Remus' head, holding him in place, so he can't stop. There's just something about the man; his wiry body, his hot hands and the flush to his cheeks, and he smells like pure sex, right now, to Bill.
"But-" Bill pleads, as Remus is moving properly now, and though his senses are temporarily overloaded, he's still nervous.
"It helps," Remus explains, popping the top button of Bill's shirt, hands grasping Bill's waist as he presses rough kisses down the centre of Bill's chest. "Always helped me."
Bill is actually surprised to feel a pang of jealousy, at the men who got this before. He's pulling on Remus' hips now and their lips fit together again as they fall into a rough rhythm. Bill's desire feels sharper, more desperate than usual in his new, half-wolf state. But then he isn't used to being dominated, held down, and he isn't used to other men, or the frustratingly ineffectual friction created by Remus' erection and rough-wool robes.
"Enough?" Remus whispers, and Oh, Bill thinks, this man knows what he's doing, because a drive of hips and Bill can feel Remus' cock dragging over the length of his own. It's like nothing he's felt before, Remus pumping against him, almost into him now, and Bill almost feels like he's being fucked.
He snarls a little as Remus' teeth are in his neck again, his own teeth gritted to stop from screaming at the lazy way Remus is shifting his hips that keeps them both right on the edge for far too long. Strangely, it's the sound of Remus coming that pushes him over; a noise that is half gulp, half growl, Remus' body freezing rigid. Bill only needs a couple of heavy twitches of his own hips to finish too, whining as he clasps Remus' body tight to his own, gasps and whimpers wracking both their bodies.
Remus waits a minute, nearly, until their breathing has slowed sufficiently, before pulling away. Still dizzy, Bill watches the other man neaten himself; brushing down his robes and smoothing his hair. He is as unruffled as ever, really, though the spark is ever-present in his brown eyes.
"Got what you wanted, eh?" Bill asks without rancour. He re-fastens the button on his shirt and adjusts the waistband of his tight jeans.
Remus smiles, still that wicked, slow smile, and it still, somehow, has the same effect on Bill, and he already feels quite a pronounced rush of lust. "Not nearly," Remus replies, turning away. Bill can see how little their encounter sated him, that it wasn't anything like enough to calm a full werewolf. But then, it wasn't enough for Bill either.
Bill smiles, as Remus calmly makes his way into the garden, knowing they'll find each other later.