The house at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, hated Harry Potter, and Harry Potter hated it. Kreacher's head had joined the rows of house-elves some time over the first month of summer. Harry knew without asking who had done the deed: the only other person who could possibly empathize with him, with the burning black storm of nothingness that had been growing in his chest all year only to explode into all-consuming maelstrom four weeks before.
He couldn't stop thinking about it.
The malevolent red light.
The look of utter surprise.
Those strong arms tight and low around his waist, holding him back, the faint haze of blood and ozone and aftershave in his nose.
Harry clenched his jaw, fighting off another erection, telling himself to turn back, return to his room, do his homework, sort papers for the Order -- hell, volunteer to help Snape sort his potion supplies -- anything but stalk his former Defence professor through the halls of the creepy house of Black, half-hard and halfway to mad. Then the patched hem would vanish around another corner, and Harry would follow as a marionette on a string.
Feeling more tired than he ever had, Remus stepped inside the kitchen, and tapped his wand against the kettle. Harry had finally gone to bed, leaving Remus with the privacy he needed. While he waited for the water to boil, Remus closed his eyes, fighting off unwelcome memories and unwanted desires.
The tea did nothing to warm him, and he shivered despite the fire burning in the hearth and the warm liquid making its way down his throat. He knew what he needed. And he waited patiently until it arrived.
The moment Snape stepped through the kitchen door, Remus put his cup of tea down, got up from his seat, and made his way down to the basement. There was no need to say anything to Snape. Not yet anyway. They both knew why Snape had come that evening, and why Remus silently led the way to one of the hidden rooms in twelve Grimmauld place.
He'd been able to resist for a long time, ever since he had left Hogwarts at the end of Harry's third year. But the day after Sirius' death, Remus found himself outside Snape's dungeon room, asking, begging, for what only Snape could give him.
They usually met in Snape's rooms; those were the most private, since neither of them felt the need to share their odd relationship with anyone. But Remus had been assigned as Harry's guardian, so he couldn't leave the house. And it had been two weeks. Remus had tried to resist, but fire-called Snape that evening anyway.
He pushed the door open, cast a quick spell to light the candles in the dark basement room, and turned towards Snape.
"I'm ready," he said, and reached for the buttons on his faded robes.
"This is getting rather tiresome, Lupin," Severus growled, but his eyes never left the gaunt figure before him. "You seem to be under the impression that you can call on me whenever the mood should strike you." Licking his lips, he stalked across the room, watching intently as Lupin's tattered robes fell to the floor at his feet.
Miles of brown, scarred skin were revealed, and Severus stepped up behind Lupin and allowed his breath to ghost across Lupin's nape. Despite his protests to the contrary, receiving Lupin's fire-call had been just what he needed this day. It was all he lived for now. His sole source of enjoyment in an otherwise bleak and maddening life. Black was dead, and Potter was close to incapacitated as a result; Lupin remained his only challenge. Not that it was a difficult challenge to master. Lupin appeared to have been born to beg beneath the lash.
His cock pulsed as he denied it the contact it wanted with Lupin's hip. A gentle slide of his work-roughened palm up Lupin's back, and Severus twisted his fingers in the graying hair and jerked Lupin's back against his shoulder. "Let me assure you, you are mistaken," he hissed, sinking his teeth into the thin flesh at Lupin's collarbone.
Harry had long ago perfected the art of moving while invisible, and sidled through the half-open kitchen door after Remus. He crouched by the pantry as Remus made his tea, and for a moment was tempted to slip out from under his father's cloak and have a cuppa, talk, pour out everything swirling inside him.
Remus, I miss Sirius. Remus, I can't sleep at night wondering what Voldemort is doing. Remus, I want to cut Bellatrix Lestrange into cubes and feed her to Fang and it scares the shit out of me. Remus, you're so hot and I think I love you.
Harry said none of these things, but huddled in the corner. Then Snape came, and any urges to bare his soul shriveled. Harry followed them from habit and the lingering suspicion Snape's mere existence provoked, blind and cold and numb. It never occurred to him to question their destination until he had to dash to get in the door before it closed. Trembling only inches from Snape's robe, Harry willed himself inanimate until the man swept away, over to Remus, who--
Harry caught his breath at the vista of nude flesh, scarred and battered flesh, and he wanted to protest Snape's stained hands on Remus' clean skin, but if he revealed himself, Remus would dress and send him to bed. Alone. He couldn't bear that. So he watched.
It was easy enough for Remus to ignore Snape's protests and complaints, since he knew they were empty. If Snape truly felt that way about him and their unique situation, he wouldn't have come that evening.
But Remus couldn't possibly ignore Snape's presence; the breath on his shivering skin, the faint touches on his back, the hand tightened in his hair and the teeth marking his flesh. Arching his back, Remus let out a strangled groan, clenching his hands to fists, not wanting to be tempted to reach out and touch Snape. He wanted to be used by the other man, treated like the sub-human that he was. He needed to feel the humiliation, the pain, because that was the only way he could forget about everything else.
"More," he moaned, his cock hard and throbbing miserably, and he was tempted to reach for it, so tempted to stroke himself, but he didn't. It wasn't what he truly wanted. He wanted to have to beg for it, and he knew Snape would make him do exactly that. "Please, more." His breathing was hitching, his eyes closed, and his entire body anticipating Snape's next moves. "Harder. Please, harder."
Severus tore his mouth away from Lupin's neck, drawing in a quick, painful breath at the moment of release. He was reluctant to give up his prize so early in the game. Lupin's skin had the faintest taste of old desire and new pain, and Severus wanted to suck it and bite it until it split beneath his lips like a ripe grape.
But no, it was not to be. Lupin's demands must be dealt with, and quickly. Before he forgot his role in this little charade altogether.
Robbed of his pleasure, Severus felt his gut tighten with fury. "You have no right to make any demands of me, Lupin," he snapped. His fingers tightened on Lupin's shoulder and he pressed down with all his might, forcing the other man to his knees. "You'd best remember that."
A swish of his wand and manacles appeared, binding Lupin's wrists to his ankles. A flick, and a tight silver collar encircled his neck, thick links of metal trailing down from the front to secure it to a hoop bolted to the floor. A final wave, and a black leather whip with a sturdy silver handle floated gracefully across the room to land with a smack in the center of Severus' palm.
With a satisfied smirk, Severus slipped his wand back into his sleeve. "That's better," he murmured, stroking gently along Lupin's jawline with the handle of the whip. It was his favorite. When he reached the point just below the other man's chin, he jerked upward sharply and thrust his trouser-clad erection toward Lupin's face.
"In your mouth. Now."
Harry quivered with a curious mixture of rage and shameful desire as Snape first bit, then bound and collared Remus, then ordered him to--
He's won't, will he? Why is he letting Snape do this to him? Part of him sympathized, the part that lay awake nights shaking with frustrated rage and tears he refused to let fall no matter how alone he was. Another part rejected the entire notion of submission, no matter what sort of hold Snape had, what threats he had made.
Both parts were outvoted by the majority, which wanted him to stand and watch Remus bend to Snape's commands, maybe slip his hand inside his pyjama bottoms and... He shouldn't. It was wrong. What Snape was doing was wrong. And Remus--
Remus was hard, a slow line of pre-come inching down his engorged shaft, and Harry pressed a hand over his mouth to muffle his own harsh panting; the other hand seized his balls and squeezed until his vision blackened at the edges.
A whip zoomed into Snape's hand, and the eerie thwack jolted Harry from his fever. He had to end this, save Remus from whatever hold Snape had over him. But if Remus couldn't save himself, how was Harry to, without even knowing the situation? He licked his upper lip. He needed to know more. He needed to... His hand clenched again, and his throat worked in a silent moan. In your mouth, he repeated to himself, unaware. Suck him.
The shackles and the collar came as no surprise to Remus, and when they closed around him, he let out a soft, satisfied moan. He was bound. He was at the mercy of another man. A spiteful vicious man who wanted to hurt him as much as Remus wanted to be hurt.
Only his amber eyes, narrowed slightly as he glared up at Snape, betrayed the hint of defiance Remus felt. No matter how much he wanted it, there was always a part of him that whispered objections in the back of his mind. And oddly enough, that voice always sounded like Sirius.
But Sirius was dead. And he was left behind.
His nostrils flared when Snape gave him the order, and Remus inhaled deeply, smelling the heady scent of arousal before he pressed his mouth against Snape's groin. He bit down on the waistband, and pulled the button open, his shoulders aching from the strain of the chains binding his arms behind his back. Darting his tongue out, he easily clenched his teeth around the zipper, and pulled it down. Nuzzling his way inside Snape's trousers, soft hairs tickling his nose and lips, he pushed the trousers down just a bit.
The moment Snape's erection sprang free, Remus swallowed it down, closing his eyes while he hummed appreciatively around the engorged flesh. He sucked the cock into his mouth as far as he could, stroking the underside with his tongue, and then drew back so he could swirl his tongue across the slick head, licking up the pearly drops that emerged before swallowing it down again.
Unconsciously, he started to rock his own hips, humping dry air, prick leaking steady drops of pre-come. The chains and the collar and Snape's cock deep inside his throat all felt exquisite, and yet Remus wanted more. Opening his eyes, he briefly darted them towards the whip in Snape's hand before looking up into that obsidian gaze again. Curling his lip up in a defiant sneer, Remus pulled back, deliberately scraping his teeth across Snape's cock, hard enough he would surely deserve punishment.
It was wrong. Incomprehensible. Lupin's mouth should not feel so good. The man -- no, not a man! A beast! -- had a wickedly talented tongue, and the back of his throat felt like hot silk. Severus fisted up a handful of Lupin's hair, pulling the strands taut between his fingers until he could see each individual follicle straining, and forced his cock deep into Lupin's mouth.
"How shall I fuck you today, Lupin?" he asked quietly, eyes narrowing to tiny slits as he watched his prick disappear and reappear again and again. Lupin's lips were already reddened and swollen, and Severus pushed in yet deeper so they stretched and grew white. "On your back, with your legs up over your head? Or perhaps I should bind you to the table again. Not that I need bother to ask. Your preference in the matter means noth-"
Severus stopped short with a horrified gasp as Lupin's teeth scraped along his cock. Slow. Deliberate. Lupin's lip was curled, and Severus caught a flash of white. This animal, this wretched, sniveling creature who had once been only moments away from tearing him to bits with those very teeth, was now threatening him again. It couldn't be borne.
It wouldn't be borne.
Severus pumped his hips forward for a moment and with a slow, deliberate movement of his own, he reached down to pinch Lupin's nostrils shut.
"Don't. Ever. Do That. To Me. Again," he commanded, his voice a choked whisper. "Do you understand me, Lupin?"
No time to wait for an answer. Severus withdrew from Lupin's mouth so quickly he half expected to see the other man's teeth fly out behind his cock. In a single fluid movement, he threw Lupin face first to the ground and raised the whip above his head. A loud crack echoed in his ears, and he smiled coldly as a thin line of crimson opened across Lupin's shoulder blades.
The chant had grown in Harry's a head, a steady chorus of 'suck him, suck him, suck him' pounding the inside of his skull until he thought it would wake the whole house. Remus' scarred shoulders rippled in strain as he worked Snape's trousers with his teeth, and Harry tore his gaze from the sight and fixed it on his professor's face.
Good as reciting arithmancy problems, but he clamped down on his balls again to be sure. Snape was still an ugly greasy git, but the thick purple cock driving between Remus' lips piqued Harry's interest in the rest of the man's body, and he stared at the incongruously prim lines of the black waistcoat and white shirt. Snape would be smooth, he decided, and very pale. Thin, not unhealthily so like Remus, but layered in flat muscle, all tendon and bone. Flawless skin.
Snape's taunts raised Harry's hackles, but the context -- Remus' lips stretched over the stiff prick, eyes burning up; Snape's fingers twisting viciously in silver-streaked hair -- all sent blood rushing to his already aching cock.
Until the whip cracked down, and the source of all those scars became clear.
The invisibility cloak turned to sheer ice around him, and the line of red dominated vision, mind, sense. "Leave him alone!"
Only after he said it did Harry realize he now needed an explanation for observing without acting for all that time. He rushed on, absurdly hoping ignoring the issue would make it inapplicable. He let the cloak fall, useless now, and groped for his wand -- and found nothing, as he'd left it on his bedside table.
Lack of a wand had never stopped Harry before, so he charged on. "Whatever he's threatened you with, Professor Lupin, Dumbledore won't let him get away with it."
Remus received the searing stroke with a sharp cry while his body tried to arch both away from the blow, and back again for more. When they'd started having these private meetings three years earlier, Remus had told himself for a long time that he was doing it out of some sort of misplaced feeling of guilt. He had, after all, almost killed Snape that night in the shack. He had never stopped his friends from making Snape's life a living hell. And he was the only one left for Snape to punish.
He might have started it all because he felt guilty, but that surely wasn't the reason he had continued it. Or why he had returned to Snape after all. Remus had come to realize a few things during these sessions with Snape. Remus liked pain. Craved it. Needed it like he needed air to breathe. There was such clarity in pain. Such purity. It gave his mind the opportunity to find peace while his body begged for more. It gave him the opportunity to forget, and to just be nothing more than a slave, a whore, a piece of flesh for someone else to use. It made Remus feel human, and he welcomed the cut on his shoulders, because it would leave a scar. A new scar, a human scar, covering all the old ones that only reminded him what he truly was.
His cheek pressed to the cold floor, eyes squeezed shut, Remus waited almost impatiently for the next strike. But it never came. Instead, a far too familiar voice rang through the room, and Remus snapped his eyes open, tilting his head to make sure his ears weren't deceiving him.
Harry.
Sweet Merlin. Harry was there, was saying things, was looking at him, at Snape, and Remus tried to get up, but only managed to scrape his shoulder painfully against the floor before he slumped down again.
Harry wasn't supposed to see him like this. Of all people, Harry wasn't supposed to find out about this. "Harry," Remus whispered, looking up at his former student with something akin to shock. "It's not what you think. This is...between Professor Snape and me." How on earth would he ever be able to explain this. "Please, Harry, just leave. Go to bed. It will be all right."
Severus paused for a moment as the whip sang through the air above his head and admired the thin slash he'd created. It grew thicker almost immediately as the blood welled up and over the ragged edges where the skin had been peeled back. The first cut was always the most thrilling, and this one was particularly pretty. Severus almost didn't want to continue for admiring the beauty of his own work.
Almost.
But it was the blood that drove him whenever he was with Lupin. The blood and the pain. Severus loved the way Lupin's oozing back felt when he pressed it against his chest, or how Lupin squirmed and cried out when Severus raked his ragged fingernails through the bloody trails as they fucked. He loved returning to Hogwarts with Lupin's blood dried stiff beneath his robes, the heavy metallic scent of it still strong in his nostrils. Every time he made Lupin bleed, it was a reminder of what could have happened on that night so long ago, and the idea of wearing the blood Lupin had failed to draw from his own veins filled Severus with a sense of satisfaction deeper than any he had ever known.
The scent of Lupin's pain, blood and sweat was filtering up to Severus now, and he raised the whip again. A sudden cry checked his arm in mid-swing, and Severus looked up in surprise to see Harry Potter materialize out of thin air. The whip cracked futilely in the air just above Lupin's back, but Severus might as well have been deaf for all the heed he paid it.
Potter. Here. Watching. And... aroused, from the look of things. Severus eyed the bulge straining against the front of the boy's pyjama bottoms with horrified fascination. He had never bothered to think of Potter as anything more than a nuisance, a thorn, a duplicate of his father. But now, in the dim light of the dungeon, the air thick with desire and pain, Severus decided he'd been remiss in his estimation.
He wanted a taste of Potter's young prick.
The Order be damned. Opportunity knocked, and Severus was too much a Slytherin to let the door remain closed.
The decision was made in an instant. He lowered his arm and crooked one bony finger in the boy's direction.
"Come here, Potter."
Harry blinked. No shouting, no frothing rage, just a quiet order delivered as though he had no option but to obey. Snape had clearly gone round the twist. Harry glanced at Remus for direction, but whatever Snape had on him must be bad, for Remus looked as if he were about to be ill.
He also looked delicious, and very, very wrong with his bonds contorting his body and blood trembling on the edge of the cut, poised to spill.
Harry wrenched his gaze back to Snape, who wanted an answer. Not that Harry even had to think about it. "No," he said in the exact same tone Snape had used. "Let Remus go." He winced even as he said it; he hadn't permission to call Remus by his given name, however much it seemed absurd to cling to formality when the man was naked... hard... collared and bleeding and coated in a fine sheen of sweat.
Snape. Look at Snape. Harry forced his gaze back on his Potions professor, but that did little to soothe the tightness in his stomach and groin. Look at his face. Ugly bastard. Oh, Merlin, he's got a WHIP. And his prick's poking out of his trousers. Alternating waves of hot and cold shuddered down his spine. Something unbearable had lodged in his chest.
Remus instantly forgot about the fact that Harry had just discovered something about him that he would rather keep secret. Eyes narrowing, he looked up at Snape, at first unwilling to believe that the other man had just ordered Harry to stay instead of sending him back to his bed where he belonged.
But when he met Snape's dark gaze, Remus instantly recognized it. That specific gaze, searingly hot and viciously cruel, was normally only directed at him during their private meetings, and even though it turned Remus on like nothing else could, he did not particularly appreciate it that Snape was now looking at Harry in that way.
However non-consensual things might look, whatever happened between Snape and him was always consensual; something they both wanted and both enjoyed. But Harry had nothing to do with that. Harry was just a boy, not even sixteen years old, for Merlin's sake.
Remus momentarily forgot about the chains and the collar that kept him motionless, and tried to get up. But the iron and silver held him back, and a low growl escaped his throat as he unconsciously bared his teeth at Snape. "Harry, get out of here, now!" he snarled, eyes still fixed on Snape.
"Don't you dare, Severus." Remus tugged on the chains, for once not happy that he was at the mercy of Snape. "Let him go. You can't do this." While he kept his glare directed at Snape, Remus tried not to think about the fact that Harry seemed awfully flushed, and his pyjama bottoms appeared to be stretched out at just the right place. Combined with the searing sting on his back, and Snape sneering down at him, whip and cock at the ready, Remus did his best not to get even more aroused by the whole situation. His cock, however, throbbed longingly.
Severus narrowed his eyes as both Potter and Lupin defied his command. Such defiance was a familiar thing coming from Potter. Expected, even. 'Punishments' such as taking house points or handing out detentions were but laughable solutions to the boy's insolence, and Severus had often wished to have more severe penalties at his fingertips.
Lupin's reaction was a surprise, however. He was usually so docile, so wonderfully submissive, even on the days approaching the full moon, when Severus would have expected him to begin showing signs of the wolf within. And now, here he was acting for all the world like a bitch protecting her cub, completely ignoring the fact that Severus could easily fuck Potter where he stood and there was nothing Lupin could do about it but watch, and want, and bleed.
The idea had its merits. But perhaps another time. Severus had a more delightful and humiliating game planned at the moment.
A blissful feeling of power swept through him at the realization that both man and boy were completely at his mercy. The whip still dangling from his hand seemed to move of its own accord, dropping into position around Lupin's neck. Gathering the ends in his fist, Severus pulled Lupin's head up hard, while at the same time planting his boot in the middle of Lupin's back and forcing his torso to stay flush with the ground.
"I said come here, Potter," he snarled. "Or do I have to break his neck before you will learn to obey?"
Harry froze. How did Snape manage to twist every situation around until Harry was powerless and infuriated? Until he was so far past rage only the fact that he couldn't do anything to the man kept him from exploding?
A choked sound escaped Remus' mouth, and Harry could only watch as the black leather dug into the pale flesh of Remus' throat. For just an instant Harry wanted to watch the flesh darken and swell with trapped blood... and then he remembered the irrevocability of certain acts. A spoken phrase. A beam of light. A fall.
He broke, and darted forward, eyes locked on the whip and the cruel angle of Remus' neck. "Let him go. You're hurting him." Harry wanted to say more, but felt he'd done enough damage; he groaned to himself, thinking that now Snape had additional leverage against Remus.
Brilliant, Potter. Really brilliant. It's a wonder you lived through five years of Voldemort after your arse. No plan, just throw off the cloak and demand Snape release Remus. As though Snape would give me the time if I asked for it. A cold sweat dampened Harry's nape as he scurried up to his professors, past and present. He stared down at Snape's shoes, not daring to look up as he had no idea what to do if Snape didn't let Remus go.
The sturdy leather that suddenly cut off his breath was a complete surprise for Remus, and he inhaled sharply against the sudden constriction. He tried to look up at both Snape and Harry, but the heavy boot on his back kept him pressed against the cold floor, and he had no other choice but to stay still, and try to breathe around the death grip on his throat.
This was going beyond anything Snape and he had ever done together. This no longer had anything to do with a game of dominance and submission that always led to incredible sex. This was Snape abusing his position of control, and using Remus' incapability to move as means to manipulate Harry into something he should not be doing. Snape was his professor, for fuck's sake. A member of the Order, who had taken a vow to protect Harry at any cost.
Becoming slightly light-headed from the lack of oxygen, Remus realized that there was nothing he could do but hope Harry would not do anything stupid. Even though Remus thought Snape wouldn't kill him, there was no telling what the man would do either to him or Harry or both. Remus knew one thing for sure: Snape was not a man known for showing mercy, and at that moment, Remus hated Snape. But he hated himself more for letting the situation escalate to this, and for still feeling impossibly aroused by it.
Severus tugged on the ersatz leash encircling Lupin's neck, just because he could. He knew he was overstepping the bounds of his unspoken agreement with the other man, and would likely never have the chance to fuck him again, so this time had to count. He smirked coldly as Potter approached, noting the uncertainty in the boy's step. No sign of his usual arrogance. The sight sent a cold prickle of joy down Severus' spine.
"Yes, I am hurting him," he said, twisting his wrist so the whip tightened even further around Lupin's throat. "Killing him, in fact, and yet there you stand, refusing to obey me." The thought brought a thrill of power along with it, and Severus dropped his free hand to his still rock-hard prick. "An interesting choice, Potter." He squeezed the head of his cock and yanked on the whip again. "First you killed your godfather, and now you're killing his lover."
Severus clucked his tongue, letting the sound drag out into a long, low moan as he stroked and teased his way up and down the length of his shaft, eyes locked on Potter's. "Do you want to save him?" he whispered.
Another tug.
"Touch me."
Harry's chest constricted around his heart, squeezing his breath as though Snape had looping the whip around his throat, not Remus'. "Don't," he mouthed, looking up at Remus' purple face, throbbing with trapped blood, just like Harry's cock. His pyjama bottoms strained over the erection tenting the front; the material stuck to the tip of his penis, where pre-come had dampened the material. Snape's reference to Sirius barely registered; Harry already knew he was responsible, no need to hear it from Snape, who was also among those who contributed to Sirius' death. But Remus was alive and Harry could save him. Harry could loosen the noose, grant breath and circulation and life. Remus' eye were wide and pleading, though whether he wanted Harry to obey or keep fighting was a mystery. For the first time Harry noticed how much darker Remus' eyelashes were from the rest of his hair. Perhaps leashed tears dampened them, even as his lips dried with his open mouth--
Harry snapped his attention back to Snape, horrified at the delay, at the request, at the knowledge he could not afford to even hesitate. Another step brought him into range, and he reached out and grasped Snape's prick without thinking twice. Remus needed to breathe. Hot hard flesh filled his palm, and he curled his fingers over the familiar shape. Snape's cock was a bit longer and thicker than Harry's own, and it felt odd to hold an erection without feeling the touch himself. Every nerve seemed tuned to the sensation of velvet-soft skin, the stiff but yielding flesh, the pulse of blood under his fingers.
The tight band of leather around his throat cut off all the air when Snape twisted it again. Remus opened his mouth to inhale, but couldn't, and his lips stayed parted as if he were letting out a silent scream. Hands jerking at the chain on his back, Remus tried to squirm away from Snape's foot, which still held him down firmly, and his cock rubbed across the floor in a not entirely uncomfortable way.
The lack of air made his vision blur and his ears ring, and for a moment Remus thought he saw Harry touch Snape's cock, but that surely had to be a hallucination, since it sent a tingling jolt of arousal straight to his cock, which was still rubbing across the floor rather nicely.
As his vision started to darken, and his body convulsed beneath Snape's boot, it suddenly occurred to Remus that he was dying. That Snape was killing him. That idea in itself frightened him. But what frightened him even more was that he didn't even mind it that much. At least he would see Sirius again, and that seemed more than worth dying for.
Potter's small hand was smooth and cool against Severus' aching prick. At the first touch, he released the tension on the whip -- just a bit -- so Lupin could gulp down a few sustaining breaths of oxygen. With a great effort, he swallowed the moan threatening to spill past his lips, even though the sight and feel of his cock being handled by a boy he hated was one of the most perversely arousing things he'd ever seen. Potter's movements were clumsy and bordered on timid, but it was his very inexperience that suddenly made him so desirable. Severus hoped he would be the first to pull those beautifully-rounded arse cheeks (and how was it he had never noticed them before?) apart and plunge his cock deep inside.
A dark spot of moisture was spreading in the front of the boy's pyjama bottoms, and Severus nearly forgot his own pleasure in the rush of blood pounding through his ears. Gathering the whip up in his fist once again, he took a step closer and reached down to cup the boy's hardness in his other hand. He wanted to say something as the flesh pulsed against his palm, something to taunt, or to humiliate, or even to inflame Potter's arousal -- and thus his own -- even further, but for once in his life words failed him. He settled instead for kneading the boy's erection, running his long fingers down to its base and slipping them under Potter's balls, pressing, stroking, applying gentle pressure so the boy wouldn't come from these touches alone.
A tremor ran through his leg, and Severus belatedly remembered Lupin's need to breathe. Just as well. The game was getting rather stale, anyway, especially in the face of the far more pleasant activities that were obviously yet to come. And perhaps... perhaps there were other, even more intriguing ways to restrict Lupin's access to air...
Replacing his foot on the floor, Severus jerked the whip free of Lupin's neck altogether. "Get up," he ordered harshly, nudging Lupin's shoulder with the point of his boot. Without waiting for Lupin to respond, Severus twisted his fingers in the fraying elastic waistband of Potter's pyjama bottoms and forced it downward. The threadbare fabric shredded in his hands, and the boy's cock spilled out into his hand.
Tossing the remnants over his shoulder, Severus wrapped his fingers around Potter's length. His lips went suddenly dry. It took all of his considerable strength of will not to fall to his knees and swallow that lovely morsel himself. Instead, he dragged Potter forward by his erection and used it to strike Lupin's face on both cheeks. Glistening spots of pre-come dotted the places where it made contact.
"Open your mouth."
Harry was getting nervous. Snape neither moved nor spoke under his touch, nor did he release Remus. Harry wondered if he had misinterpreted the command, but really, what else was he supposed to think when a man with his cock hanging out of his trousers said 'touch me'?
His cheeks grew hot and he started to let go, but the sudden hand cupping his erection stole his desire to move, think, breathe. He supposed he'd had the right idea after all, and his fingers tightened reflexively around Snape's prick, and he undulated into the touch on his own with the same lack of intent. A large shivery pit opened in his stomach and a muffled whimper slipped past his lips as the full impact of the situation struck: he was in a cellar being wanked off by his Potions professor, who happened to be strangling his dead godfather's lover.
"Please. Don't..." he whispered. Don't do this? Don't stop? Harry didn't know any more, and wasn't sure he wanted to know. Snape only answered with a savage jerk to Harry's pyjama bottoms, shredding them, leaving him in nothing but a thin sheen of sweat. Hot bare flesh wrapped around his prick, and a sharp tug wrenched a cry from his mouth. He stumbled forward, obedient to that particular leash.
Another small cry escaped when Snape rubbed the head of his cock across Remus' cheeks, the fine grain of stubble rasping across sensitive skin, and Harry's mouth went bone dry. One question pulsed across his mind, driving away all thoughts of escape and rescue and heroism. Would he? Would he? Would he?
The sudden rush of air in his lungs was unexpected but very welcome, and Remus gasped as he tried to get as much oxygen inside of him as possible. He only half registered Snape commanding him to get up, but the boot urging him on did get him to raise himself as best as he could.
His breathing ragged, Remus tried to blink the darkness from his vision, and the next thing he knew, he was staring at Harry's erection.
Snape had to be fucking kidding. He couldn't possibly mean to force Harry into the things that usually happened between them. But one glance up at Snape's determined face told Remus that the other man was very serious about it, and his recent near-death experience was enough to convince Remus to play along like a good boy.
Besides, Harry looked absolutely delectable standing there naked, flushed, trembling, his hard young cock throbbing and leaking, and unconsciously Remus licked his lips. He should not be looking forward to tasting that eager prick, but Remus couldn't help himself. Harry was after all a fine-looking young man, something Remus had noticed before, but had never allowed himself to linger on.
But now Snape was telling him to do something Remus knew was wrong, but which seemed so very, very right at that moment, and he opened his mouth, looked up at Harry with both guilt and desire, and sucked Harry's cock inside his mouth.
Remus groaned when he tasted all that innocence, arousal and hesitance, and he made sure Harry would at least enjoy this. His tongue swiped along the underside of Harry's hard cock while his lips massaged the tight flesh. Nuzzling the prickly hairs that surrounded Harry's cock, Remus swallowed around Harry's hard prick, and moaned when he tasted the bitter drops of pre-come that leaked into his throat.
Severus drew a shuddering breath as Lupin obediently swallowed Potter's cock, his own prick jumping happily at the sight. Eyes wide, he circled around behind Potter slowly, stalking him like a cat; he still loomed far over the boy's head and the view from above was breathtaking. Literally. Severus' chest rose and fell in irregular patterns as he fought to keep his breathing even, and without realizing it, he moved close enough that the head of his prick brushed against Potter's bare arse.
Electric currents seemed to crackle across his flesh. Severus immediately grabbed a handful of Potter's arse in each hand, wanting to fulfill his earlier fantasy of tearing the boy apart where he stood. But instinct cautioned him against it; such impulsiveness could cause permanent damage, and that would be most difficult to explain. He settled instead for bending his knees just enough that he could insinuate the head of his cock inside the spread cleft, moaning as Potter's warmth embraced his length. Good gods, if the boy was this tight and hot on the outside...
For long moments he stood rutting against Potter's arse, never quite entering him, watching Lupin's talented mouth bring the boy pleasure and considering his next move. He wanted them both. He wanted Potter writhing beneath him, screaming, bleeding, coming on his own stomach with a humiliated shout... he wanted Lupin quivering around him as Severus punished him with both whip and cock, begging him to stop, begging him never to stop. Perhaps he could tie Potter up as well, and force him to watch while Severus buggered Lupin into a heaving mess, and then have his taste of the boy later while Lupin served as their unwilling audience.
But which one first? Decisions, decisions. It was such a pity he couldn't have them both at once...
"Stop," he said suddenly, pushing against Lupin's forehead until he lost his hold on Potter's cock. "I believe you're ready now," he continued in an oily voice, this time addressing himself to the teenager. He gave the whip a tiny flick so the ends cracked softly against the stone floor, and pushed Potter forward. "I think it's time you were more fully introduced to the pleasures of the flesh, Potter. Go on, then. I want to see you fuck him."
Harry's world narrowed to the sound of his own heart and the blood rushing past his ears, the moist heat engulfing his prick, the hot body pressing against his back, and the hair tumbling through his fingers as he urged Remus to take him deeper, faster.
"Oh God. Oh God, please." Harry bucked and clenched his fingers in the soft brown hair and let his hips slip his control, let them fuck the hot mouth working his cock.
Remus' mouth.
He opened his eyes, not knowing when or why he'd closed them, and watched with a muzzy sense of unreality. Remus -- kind patient soft-spoken Remus who had taught him the patronus charm and kept him from suicide by veil and used to grope his godfather when they thought Harry wasn't watching -- was sucking Harry's cock. And bloody well enjoying it, to judge by the groans and enthusiastic licks.
Snape's breath was warm on his nape, and Harry shivered as a nudge to his backside reminded him of Snape's state of undress. He squeaked as Snape pried his cheeks open. Wait, he wanted to say. I've never done more than kiss, and that was with a girl. I'm not ready for all this, not all at once. But speaking would do nothing to make Snape cease... or worse, it might.
The head of Snape's prick slid past Harry's entrance, catching slightly before burrowing deep in his crack and coming to rest just behind his balls. Harry's breath hitched, and fell back against Snape, head swimming with arousal and fear and guilt.
Then the mouth was gone, and Snape was pushing him forward and telling him to fuck Remus, and Harry looked at the bound and panting man and knew he couldn't do it.
It was one thing to acquiesce to Snape's demands if it would save Remus' life, to stand there and allow others to touch and suck him, but it was quite another to actively assault a bound man, even if he desperately wanted to and had since last Christmas, when he had walked in on Remus and Sirius... occupied.
"No," he said, simply, determined, terrified of the consequences.
Sweet Merlin, but Harry was actually enjoying it, and Remus bobbed his mouth up and down that delicious young prick eagerly. All those little sounds Harry made went straight to Remus' own cock, which twitched repeatedly against Harry's bucking knees.
Of course Remus knew he shouldn't be enjoying this, but how could he not enjoy the warm hard flesh in his mouth, or Harry's moaned pleas, or Snape's dark eyes gazing down at him. He did not want to think it, but the young addition to their bizarre sex game was a perfect one. He also did not want to think about the fact that he was now sucking off his dead lover's godson, their best friend's teenage son, because that would only remind him how very wrong this whole situation truly was.
So instead Remus concentrated on sucking hard, occasionally teasing the slit with the tip of his tongue before grazing his teeth ever so lightly across the pulsing prick when he swallowed it down again.
But then Snape ordered him to stop, and forced his mouth off Harry's cock, and Remus inhaled deeply while he looked up at Snape, uncertain he even wanted to know what that man was planning next.
The order for Harry to fuck him wasn't really a surprise, but Remus felt shocked nonetheless. Snape was once again pushing Harry further than he should, and even though the idea of Harry fucking him wasn't an unpleasant one, Remus did not want Harry to be forced into doing something like that. But what choice did they have? Again, Remus yanked at the chains that kept his arms and legs immobile, and he cursed himself silently for ever inviting Snape here. He should have just waited until he could have visited Snape in his own rooms again, and then none of this would have happened.
But no, the desire had been too great, and Remus too weak and lonely, and now Harry was boldly refusing something Snape would not let him refuse. "Harry," he whispered, his voice raw and his eyes almost pleading. "It's okay." Don't make things any worse than they already are, he added silently, knowing that he really was in no position to blame Harry for anything, since he was the one who was at fault here. And Snape, of course, who was taking things too far.
Remus shot Snape an angry glare, even though he knew that would not help things much. And part of him couldn't really blame Snape, since he himself was enjoying things far more than he should. How could he possibly expect Snape to act like a mature adult, when he was too weak to resist the simplest of temptations?
"Harry, do it," he whispered, and lowered his eyes, ashamed and humiliated and aroused beyond belief.
"There, you see, Potter?" Severus simpered. "He wants you. Just as I know you want him." Potter's horrorstruck expression was a far more powerful aphrodisiac than anything Severus could create in his cauldrons, and Lupin's angry acquiescence was the icing on the cake. He braced his hand against the small of Potter's back and gave the boy a shove forward. "Get behind him, you fool. You can't do it from here."
Potter stood his ground. Stubborn, impertinent, ridiculous little boy. Severus' fingers tightened around the hilt of the whip, and he swished the ends angrily against the floor. If he had to choke Lupin until he was cold and stiff, Potter would obey him. It wasn't even a question of sex anymore. This was a struggle for power, and Severus would be damned if he would let this Potter make his life a misery, as well.
Perhaps he needs a more precise demonstration of your determination, a tiny voice hissed in the back of his head.
Tossing the whip to the floor by Lupin's feet, Severus slowly withdrew his wand from his shirt sleeve and turned to face Potter. "You always insist on doing things the hard way, Potter," he hissed. "Very well, then. You're just lucky I'm in a generous mood at the moment, or else your precious werewolf would already be dead."
Severus leveled the wand between Potter's eyes. "You will fuck him," he whispered. "And I, in turn, will fuck you. Imperio."
The eerie calm of the Imperius curse settled over Harry, and his desire grew tenfold as all his worries dropped away. It was all so simple. His cock felt bigger than it had ever been, though it looked no different. Angry red and pointing at Remus.
Fuck him, Snape's voice whispered in his head.
No, the contrary voice promptly spoke up.
Fuck him.
No. He was not going to obey.
Fuck him.
NO. But he wanted to. Remus wanted him to. But then, so did Snape, which was good enough reason not to. And it was wrong.
You want it, he wants it, we all want it. Fuck him.
I'd like to murder my aunt and uncle some days, too, but I don't go around doing it.
Fuck him. No one will blame you.
I'll blame me.
And he would. But maybe... He was so hard. Maybe he could live with it. Remus was hard, too, so maybe he did want it.
Fuck him. It will be all Snape's fault.
His cock twitched and his stomach rolled over. That was true. Few people knew he could resist Imperius. And Remus was so close and so sexy and Snape's daunting presence at his back was giving Harry unhealthy thoughts about his Potions master and he was so very hard...
The spell must have sensed his weakness, for it tightened the net of serenity over his mind. Harry wasn't fooled; he could throw off the curse any time. But once he took the first step, the next was so much easier, and then the next, and the next, until he stood behind Remus, staring at the scarred slope of his back, the bloody stripe, which had smeared with sweat and Snape's boots.
And then... Harry paused. He really had no idea how to proceed. The spell gave orders; it could not grant information. Should he just kneel and stuff his prick in? The dull pulse of the spell discouraged independent action, and he had a feeling if he went against it too much he would accidentally break it.
The thought was enough to send him to his knees, fumbling with Remus' arse. He couldn't stop now, not this close. He thrust forward, but only bent his cock uncomfortably as dry flesh resisted. Remus flinched, and Harry backed off, blood rushing to his cheeks.
Just when Remus thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, Snape cast a bloody Unforgivable on Harry. It made the situation so surreal that Remus had a hard time grasping the earnestness of it. He suddenly wished with all his heart for this thing to end, and he longed to find himself in bed with Sirius, wrapped around each other, not a single worry on their minds as long as they were together, but that was such a ridiculous wish, Remus had to stifle a rather hysterical laugh.
He had to face the reality of what Snape had done; cast the Imperius curse on Harry, thus forcing the boy to fuck him. But wait a minute... wasn't Harry able to throw Imperius off? Remus was sure Moody had told him that after he had read it in the notes Crouch had taken of his Defence classes. So why wasn't Harry resisting the curse?
Remus looked up at Harry, and noticed the blank expression that came with Imperius, and he wondered if Harry was just pretending to be under the curse or if Snape had somehow managed to do something that no one had ever been able to do before: fully control Harry Potter. Remus couldn't believe it, though, and he realized Harry may have some sort of impossible thing planned and needed to pretend to obey Snape. Which meant that Harry most likely was going to fuck him, and Remus felt contrasting emotions swirl through him.
Yes, the idea of Harry burying his prick to the root inside Remus' arse was a very, very arousing and tempting one, but it was still wrong, and Remus unconsciously gritted his teeth against the conflict that occupied his mind. Harry seemed to have less hesitance than he did about it all, and Remus bent down on all fours impassively when Harry urged him to.
But when Harry tried to shove his dry cock up Remus' dry arse, he was once again reminded how truly innocent Harry was and that the both of them had no right to take that innocence away, however tempting it may be. Letting out a frustrated growl, Remus looked up at Snape. "At least show him how it's done if you insist on raping the both of us," he snarled, his chest heaving.
Remus felt frustrated. Both because Snape was about to rape Harry and have Harry rape him, but also because part of him couldn't wait to feel Harry's hard cock inside of him, and he mindlessly rocked his arse back against Harry.
"Be silent, Lupin," Severus growled. He resented hearing the word 'rape' cross the werewolf's lips. As though what was about to happen was somehow wrong. As though it wasn't Severus' well-deserved revenge for years of suffering at the hands of this man and his friends. As though they wouldn't have done exactly the same thing to him if their positions had been reversed.
Anger flared, and using the sole of his boot, he roughly pressed Lupin's upper body to the ground again until his scarred -- but still delectable -- arse was the only part of his body left sticking up in the air. "I'm not surprised you managed to fuck this up already, Potter," he hissed. "I should have known you would be as incompetent at this as you are at everything else I have ever instructed you to do."
Severus dropped gracefully to his knees behind Potter, his wand in his hand once again before he hit the floor. Thrusting his arm forward, he stabbed the tip inside Lupin's entrance and worked it deep inside, muttering a spell that would fill the other man's arse with a thick, sticky lubricant. Tossing his wand to the ground with a clatter, Severus dug his thumbs into Lupin's hole and spread it open slowly, revealing the last of Lupin's secrets to the boy's hungry gaze.
"Now Potter," he rasped. "I trust even you will know what to do from here. And don't bother with gentleness. Fuck him hard. That's the way he likes it."
The pulse of false calm receded at the word rape. Harry wasn't going to rape Remus... was he? Remus was grinding against him, rubbing his arse over Harry's prick. People didn't get turned on if they were being raped, right? Besides, if he backed out now, Remus would know he'd always been able to resist Imperius and would wonder why Harry hadn't done so sooner.
Harry flushed at Snape's sharp words. He was right, of course; Harry didn't know what he was doing. His one real look at the act had been quick and muddled with shock, and Sirius had already been deep inside Remus' arse.
Right where Snape's wand had vanished. Harry watched the smooth dark wood twisting and probing, watched the rosy pucker clench around the intrusion and imagined what it would feel like around his cock. Snape's body behind him and Snape's breath on his neck wasn't helping; Harry's entire body broke out in gooseflesh, even before Snape opened Remus' arse.
It was deep pink inside, and looked warm and wet and Harry wanted to bury himself as deeply as he could, Snape was telling him to, Remus was panting and hard and before Harry knew he'd made a conscious decision, he had set the tip of his prick against Remus' entrance. One of Snape's nails scraped his glans, and Harry gasped.
Remus likes it hard, he thought. 'Not what you think,' Remus had said. Merlin, I'm an idiot. Well if Remus liked it rough, that's what Remus would get. Harry squashed the voice that wondered if Remus would notice Harry if he did it the way Remus liked.
How can he not notice you? You're about to fuck his arse. Stop acting like a bloody girl with a crush and do as Snape says before they figure out he has no hold on you.
Harry licked his lips and pushed forward; the head of his cock popped past the ring with ease this time, and Harry gasped at the tight hot pressure squeezing him. Rough. Likes it rough.
He slammed in the rest of the way, caught a bad angle and hissed as his cock twisted the wrong way. He didn't pause but drew back and slammed in again, catching on to the trick of it, finding a desperate rhythm. He wondered how he could feel ill and turned on at the same time, and wanted to apologize but didn't dare show that much initiative. Instead he pressed his sweaty forehead to the center of Remus' back and fucked him as hard and fast as he could.
Remus' forehead scraped across the floor painfully when Snape pushed him down, but the moment the wand prodded against his entrance, Remus forgot all about that, and pushed back against the hard wood. He was desperate for contact by then; Harry kneeling naked behind him while Snape scorned him in that dark voice that always caressed his skin like pure silk drove all hesitations he had about the whole thing away. At least for now. Remus was sure that later on he'd feel appropriately guilty, but for now he couldn't really care anymore, and he eagerly pushed back when Snape's thumbs opened him up, a deep groan escaping his lips while he pressed his cheek against the floor.
And then Harry was inside of him, pushing hard but showing his inexperience when he started to thrust clumsily. Remus whimpered, but pushed back, needing to feel more, which Harry seemed to sense, since he suddenly set a brutal pace, leaning across Remus' back.
The chains that held him back once again became something that Remus welcomed, as he loved the idea of being helpless beneath both Harry and Snape. Harry's cock filled him, fucked him, hurt him, and it was brilliant. Remus closed his eyes, every inch of his body quivering with the desire, arousal and rapture at being fucked by someone who should definitely not be fucking him. Not now, and not ever, but that didn't make it any less good, especially not since Harry's cock raked across his prostate with each hurried thrust.
"Harry," he moaned, not even aware that the name passed his lips, and his own cock ached painfully, desperate for attention. "Harry, please, touch me." He was groaning constantly now, lips dry and parted, breath warm against the cool cellar floor. His body became enveloped by the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain, until Remus thought his tight sac would explode if someone wouldn't stroke his cock soon. "Please, Harry... gods... good... hard... yes... hard... touch me... please."
Severus watched with an almost clinical eye as Potter set up his awkward rhythm, though his own prick screamed for attention as he saw Lupin responding. After the rough start, Potter's cock glided smoothly between the thumbs still stretching Lupin wide, and Severus rubbed his erection unashamedly against Potter's hip, impatient for the moment he would join the festivities. Finally, satisfied that his instructions were being carried out correctly, Severus pulled his hands away from Lupin's arse and insinuated one around Potter's cock, instead. Thumb and forefinger formed a tight ring around the base and he squeezed hard, trying to stave off the orgasm he felt sure was building in the teenager's gut until he had a chance to debauch that virgin arse.
Potter's back shone with sweat in the low light, the sharp bones of his vertebrae throwing shadows on his skin. He was bent at precisely the right angle, and Severus hurried to position himself behind the boy. The fingers around Potter's cock were slick with the lubricant now, and he replaced one hand for the other, still squeezing, loving the feeling of Lupin's stretched arsehole brushing against his fingers with each one of Potter's thrusts.
"Spread your legs more, Potter," he ground out, fishing between the boy's arse cheeks for the small, previously untouched hole. The cheeks parted obediently, and Severus thrust two of his fingers inside without hesitation.
His breath was coming in ragged pants now, so eager was he to replace his fingers with his cock. He was not particularly interested in preparing the boy for what was to come, truth be told, and it certainly wasn't for Potter's benefit. He just didn't fancy snapping himself in half trying to force his way into a too-tight hole.
It didn't take long before he was past the point of caring, however. The head of his cock was congested with pre-come and every heartbeat echoed through his flesh in a way that bordered on the painful. With a growl that was lost to the sounds of Potter's harsh breaths and Lupin's pitiful begging, Severus wrenched his hand out from between their bodies and pulled Potter's hips up into position.
"I hope I split you in half, Potter," he barked. Rubbing the head of his prick against the pool of lubrication now oozing from the boy's arse, Severus pumped his hips forward in a sudden motion that drove half his length inside Potter's body with a single stroke.
Harry shivered at the low needy rumble of Remus' voice and his desperate squirming. Snape had told the truth; Remus truly did like it rough, and more, he liked what Harry was doing, wanted Harry, and called him by name, which was enough to make him come right there.
Except that Snape had clamped a hand around his cock. Harry keened his frustration and bucked back savagely against the restriction, then froze as Snape's fingers probed between his cheeks. He had forgotten that part of Snape's orders.
He could fight, but he had nowhere to go; Snape was all around him. And he had to admit, he was curious. Remus and Sirius appeared to enjoy the activity, and Harry had been itching to try it himself for the last six months. Snape wasn't exactly his first choice, or any choice for that matter, but Remus had figured in many of his fantasies, and maybe--
Searing pain tore trough him, and a scream burst out before he clenched his lips shut. He couldn't suppress the whimpers, and pressed his face against Remus' back. He'd never felt such pain before, not from Voldemort, not from Umbridge's quill, and yet his prick still throbbed with eagerness, still wanted to drive forward into Remus' body, if only to escape the fire in his arse.
Harry clawed at Remus' back and shoulders, blunt nails slipping on slick skin, sliding around to scratch his chest and finally he wrapped his arms around Remus' waist and clung, trying to ride out the pain. Remus' stiff prick bobbed against Harry's arm, and he remembered Remus begging for his touch, but Harry didn't think he could let go just yet. He needed grounding, something to keep the screams back, and bit the skin below his mouth, and tasted blood and sweat. He refused to scream again; Snape would probably get off on it.
The desperation Remus felt at not being touched in the way he so desperately wanted Harry to touch him, was replaced by both empathy and envy when Harry cried out in pain behind him. Remus could feel the young body shudder against his, clawing at his skin just perfectly, and he felt for Harry, he really did, but at the same time he envied the pain Harry had to be feeling at that moment.
He imagined what it had to feel like for Harry to be torn open by Snape's brilliant cock, with little lubrication and barely any preparation, and Remus wished Snape could tear him open like that. His breathing sped up, becoming ragged and uneven and filled with throaty sighs and deep groans, and Remus pushed back against Harry forcefully, desperate to feel Harry's cock, Harry's pain, Harry's hand around his own aching prick.
Desire and arousal had driven away all hesitation about Harry being there, between them, and Remus gasped, shivered, arched his back up against Harry's slick body, and wanted more, so much more. But Harry refused to give it to him, so Remus set to pumping his hips, his cock brushing against the arms Harry wrapped around him, and it was maddening and torturous and brilliant, and Remus wanted to come so badly, and yet he never wanted this to stop, because he didn't have to think about reality at that moment, and he didn't have to grieve or worry that they could all be dead tomorrow.
"Please, Harry, let me come," he begged shamelessly, because all he wanted was to touch the boy who shouldn't be touching him, and kiss him, and feel that sweaty palm tight around his cock. But he was restrained, and at Snape's mercy, like he wanted to be, and it was both terrifying and liberating and Remus cursed Snape for doing this, for making it all feel so good, so right, when it was anything but that. "Please, Severus... harder... harder... Harry... I need it... so bad... Harry," Remus whined, incoherent with lust, bucking back against Harry hard now, his cheek scraping against the floor, his arms straining against the shackles that held him back, just the way he loved it.
Potter's arse was... gods... the tightest thing Severus had ever felt around his cock, and it was so bloody good to hear the boy's cries of pain as he shoved himself inside. The channel was slick but only just, and the friction was magnificent, pulling and pushing and rubbing and pulsing against every centimeter of his length at once. For a long moment after he'd bottomed out Severus simply knelt there, fingernails digging into Potter's hips, and let the boy's clumsy movements drive him forward and back on Severus' cock. It was mesmerizing to see Potter's hole alternately contracting and relaxing around his prick as it slid back and forth, and Severus finally could not take the pressure any longer. With a harsh groan, he began to pound the boy's arse like a demon, knowing full well he was hurting both of them and loving every second of it.
Lupin's pleas reached his ears, and the sound of his suffering was sweet. Lupin begged wonderfully, far better than any other submissive Severus had ever had. Slowing the movements of his pelvis just to be contrary, Severus clenched his teeth. "Don't touch him, Potter." No. Lupin's orgasm belonged to Severus, and he was the only one who would determine when -- or if -- the other man would be allowed to come.
With this happy thought in mind, Severus returned to his earlier brutal rhythm, riding Potter's arse hard, and then harder still. The small room was filled with the harsh cries and moans of all three men, the acrid smells of sweat and blood and pain, and it wasn't long before Severus' balls began to boil. Impossibly, his thrusts got faster, rougher, until he was fucking Potter so deeply he was certain he could feel Lupin's arse clenching around his prick, as well. With a groan that came straight from the pit of his stomach, he buried himself in Potter's body to the root and came, every muscle trembling as he sprayed his release deep inside the boy's abused arse.
Harry was on fire. Pain, desire, and shame burned through his body in equal measure, making him twist and buck, though whether to escape or demand more he didn't know. He wanted it over, he wanted it to go on forever. Something had to give.
Incoherent pleading assaulted him, but he could barely make sense of the words. Remus wanted to come. Harry wanted to come. Snape was a fucking bastard for tormenting them. It was hot, sandwiched between two men. The cock pounding into his arse was rubbing something, but the pain blanketed whatever feeling it sparked. Harry held on tight, slammed forward with each lunge of Snape's cock, Remus slipping through his arms as their slick bodies jerked and shuddered.
"Oh fuck, yes," he panted, forgetting to be silent like a good little Imperius-cursed drone, and Snape slammed in deeper than ever, flooding his arse with slippery heat. The pain dimmed to a haze, and Harry picked up the pace, fucking Remus with blind need. Mindless words poured from his mouth, but he thought he heard 'so good', 'what you need', and 'fuck you so hard'.
He released Remus' waist to grip his hips, forcing his blunt nails into sweat-slick skin. His arse throbbed around the prick still shoved inside him, softening now, but hard enough to make itself felt, and Harry clenched his muscles to bring back the burn.
"Oh fuck. Remus. Se-Snape. I'm--" Harry groaned and arched his back, driving his cock deep inside Remus and squeezing his own arse around Snape as he pumped his seed into Remus. All his strength drained with his come, and he sagged back against Snape.
Even though Harry still wasn't touching him, Remus felt the pressure build in his sac, which started to tighten slowly. He tried to brush his cock against Harry's arms as best as he could, savoring the little friction it caused against his sensitive, hard flesh, and perhaps that would be enough to finally give him release. Eyes squeezed shut, lips pursed, nose wrinkled, Remus concentrated hard on Harry's cock pounding into his arse, rubbing across his prostate, sending fluttering sparkles straight to his cock which got just that necessary bit of contact from Harry's arms.
Close, so close, so very close, and then the arms were gone, and Remus humped dry air. A frustrated growl escaped his lips, and part of his mind returned from chasing bliss to the present, and he recognized Snape's groan, and knew the man had just come inside Harry. That idea was maddening, and Remus bared his teeth, his lips slightly bruised from pressing them against the rough floor. Harry's thrusts became impossibly harder, and Remus hated Snape for already having found his release.
He wanted to beg, scream, cry, but couldn't, because Harry's frantic thrusts pushed the air straight out of his lungs every time he took a shaky breath. And then Harry called out his name, and Remus' raw channel was filled hotly, and it was over. His leaking prick still aching for release, Remus stopped moving and slumped against the floor, worn and hurt and needy.
But he knew it was out of Harry's hands now, and that there was only one person in that room who could allow him to come after all. His eyes still shut, Remus took a deep breath, and swallowed. "Severus, please. I need to come. Please let me come."
Potter's arse rippled around his softening cock, drawing another few powerful waves of rapture, and Severus rocked against him until he was sure he had shaken loose every last bit of pleasure. He pushed Potter back over Lupin's body and bent low over them both, breathing heavily against the sweat-soaked flesh and enjoying a few blissful moments of absolute peace and serenity before he would have to begin gathering his wits about him again.
Too soon, Lupin's desperate request cleared the fuzzy edges from his brain and brought the world back into sharp focus. Good gods. Couldn't he even have time to enjoy the best orgasm he'd had in years?
Selfish. That's all Lupin was. Selfish and greedy, and for that, he needed additional punishment.
Sneering, Severus pulled himself free of Potter's arse with a vicious jerk of his hips, unable even to enjoy the flood of red-tinged spunk that spilled loose in the wake of his cock. Regaining his feet, he tucked his limp, sticky prick back into his trousers and quickly retrieved the whip.
Potter was still bent over Lupin's back like a pilgrim praying toward Mecca. Severus planted the sole of his boot against the boy's hip and shoved him away from Lupin's body, hard, hoping the resulting separation of cock and arse felt as horrible as it sounded.
"Get under him, Potter," he instructed, expertly flicking the whip so it cracked in the air just above Lupin's back. "You have twenty lashes coming, Lupin. If you don't come by the twentieth, you won't come at all."
Harry felt as though he'd been playing quidditch in the rain for ten hours. Every bone in his body was rubber, his blood was water, his thoughts mush. He grunted as the cock in his arse pulled out, a lot easier than it had gone in. With one ear resting on Remus' back he could hear the man's harsh panting over the beat of both their hearts, the loud but muffled rumble of his pleas, and Harry wanted to stay there forever because moving meant he would have to face both the man who had just raped him and the man he had just raped.
It was much easier to close his eyes and lay atop Remus, imagine the two of them were in bed, together, willingly. Only Snape was there, too, with his cold eyes and harsh orders that made both Harry and Remus squirm with need. It took Harry a moment to realize Snape really was there, but by then the boot on his hip had torn him from Remus and fantasy both.
He struck the stone floor with his shoulder, and glared up at Snape past the long line of Remus' thigh. He was tempted to protest, but he was supposed to be under the Imperius curse; giving up the game now would mean he'd gone through it all for nothing.
No, not nothing. His arse burned and his cock tingled, still engorged but slowly softening. He'd lost his virginity. He'd fucked Remus Lupin, and Snape had fucked him.
The thought did not disturb him as much as it should have, nor did the new order. Harry scrambled between Remus' thighs, lay on his back on the cold floor, and stared up at the hard prick bobbing before his nose, the pendulous sac swaying behind. A heady musk invaded his senses.
How far should he take it? What to do with his tongue and teeth? Remus took the decision from him by driving forward, rubbing his dry erection across Harry's cheek, leaving a thin trail of semen from the head. Harry opened his mouth, cautious and obedient, and the next thrust drove into his mouth, slammed against the back of his throat, choked his breath. His head smacked against the floor, but Remus only pulled back a short way before driving in again, and again, until the dark curls of his pubic hair brushed Harry's nose and his balls struck Harry's chin.
He couldn't breathe. The pitiful gasps of hot moist musky air he drew through his nose could hardly suffice, and his vision spotted and darkened with each thrust.
Snape's threat... no, Snape's promise, for it was a promise that Remus could come, snapped Remus from his pitiful state of pre-orgasmic agony, and he looked up at Snape, a grateful smile tugging on his lips.
The moment he felt Harry beneath him, Remus' need for release took over, and without thinking about Harry's well-being or comfort or anything he would normally consider, Remus started to thrust. And there it was: moist, tight, heat, teeth, tongue, lips, all wrapped around his aching prick so deliciously, Remus thought he would come by the fourth or fifth thrust into that heavenly mouth.
But he held back, jaw clenched, nose wrinkled, because he wanted more than just Harry's mouth. He wanted to feel Snape's punishment rip the skin off his back. It would only make things so much better, so much more intense, and Remus ached for it, amber eyes looking up at Snape pleadingly.
Just the idea of that whip lashing out at him made Remus shudder in both delight and fear, and he started to pump harder into that tight wet heat beneath him, not noticing the sopping, choking sounds that filled the room, because he wasn't fucking Harry's mouth anymore, he was fucking something that felt alive and that was all Remus needed to feel while he waited for Snape to give him what he truly wanted.
But Remus knew that Snape knew that he needed the pain, the agony, the blood, the torn skin, the scars, and Remus fixed his eyes on Snape's, hips still humping irregularly, frantically, and he hated and loved Snape for making him wait, for prolonging that moment until the hard leather would finally strike down on his back. Snape was cruel, the cruelest man Remus had ever met, and Remus hated himself for needing that cruelty so much.
"Please, Severus, punish me, make me come." So wet, so tight. "Need it... want it... please." So hot, so soft. "Hurt me, make me bleed."
Precision was a vital component of potions-making. Severus had worked hard for years, honing his skills to such a degree that he was able to shake a measure of powdered asphodel root or billywig stings from their jars and tell at a glance whether he was even a grain or two over the proscribed amount. He brought this same sense of the meticulous to bear in his dealings with Lupin, laying down the first of the promised twenty strokes directly atop the bloody stripe he had cut in the man's flesh earlier.
The blow drove Lupin's cock into Potter's mouth, eliciting a viciously satisfying gag, and Severus wasted no time in opening a second gash just below the first. Lupin's hips jumped, and Severus could just hear Potter gasping for breath over Lupin's pained sobs. The sound was cut off abruptly as the whip lanced across Lupin's back once again, opening another crimson ribbon, and Potter's air supply was lost again to Lupin's cock clogging the back of his throat.
Severus mourned the fact that he had already spent his release. It was odd to be whipping Lupin after he had already come, so accustomed was he to flogging the man to a bloody pulp before fucking him raw. It was doubly exciting knowing Potter was being skewered to the floor at the point of Lupin's cock, and Severus punished them both for continuing without him by laying another blow across Lupin's arse that would surely send his prick through the top of Potter's head.
"What would your friends say if they saw you now, Lupin?" he demanded. Another stripe. "Is this how you take care of their precious child? You're supposed to be protecting him, and here you are, shoving your cock down his throat." Another. Lupin's cries changed in pitch, growing lower and more intense, as though they were coming straight from his chest and bypassing his mouth altogether. It appeared that Potter's inexperienced tongue and Severus' expert whip were conspiring to bring Lupin off far earlier than Severus had anticipated.
"Wait for it, Lupin," he commanded, laying yet another blow across his upper back, but he could tell it was already too late. Lupin had sped past the point where holding back orgasm was a conscious choice. Any further punishment and he would be flooding Potter's throat, and that hardly seemed a fitting end to such a lovely evening of pain and humiliation. Lowering his arm, he swooped down to grasp Lupin firmly around the hips, lifting him up and away so his climax sprayed like a fountain across the boy's face.
He held Lupin so tightly that his fingernails left deep indents in the skin, savoring the fat trickles of blood running freely down Lupin's flanks as he came. When the tremors slowed and finally stopped, he released Lupin and dragged him to his knees with a fist in his hair. "Such a mess you've made, Lupin. Get up, Potter, and let this poor excuse for a human being lick your face clean."
Harry's hands scrabbled against Remus' sides and back until the whip flayed his knuckles and he jerked them from harm's way, shifting his grip to stop, or at least slow Remus' hips. His wrist wrenched painfully, but he couldn't stop, needed to breathe, needed to swallow. He worked his mouth around the huge cock forcing its way past his lips, helpless to expel it, unable to remember why he should.
Snape's voice had gone echoey, as though shouting down the pipes below Hogwarts, the ones that whispered in the walls and drew him down to deep forgotten chambers as his straining lungs drew him down to sleep.
He might never wake, but was that so bad? He would be with Sirius. His mum and dad.
And Remus would be alone.
Harry didn't want to leave Remus alone, at least not until he had a chance to dispute Snape, reassure Remus that he hadn't done anything wrong, that Harry could have stopped it earlier -- or at least fought harder -- and chose not to.
He didn't want to leave Remus with the sort of guilt Harry lived everyday. But the cockhead pressed against his airway, cutting off his breath too quickly and frequently to allow him sufficient oxygen. The snap of the whip receded to faint pops.
And then it was over and he was gasping in great lungfuls of air as hot semen spattered on his face. Some landed in his mouth and he swallowed reflexively, and licked his lips. It was salty and unpleasant, and laced with the same musk that clung to Remus' groin.
He didn't hear Snape at first, too grateful for air, but a kick had him on his knees before Remus, suddenly very aware of the thick runnels of come dripping down his face.
He couldn't bear to look Remus in the eye, so he dropped his gaze, and licked the fresh semen from his lips.
There was pain. Searing, stinging, beautiful pain, and it gripped Remus tighter than the shackles around his wrists or the mouth around his cock. It was the feeling of his skin splitting beneath the merciless whip, blood welling up from the cuts and dripping steadily across his back, his sides, his shoulders, and his cock driving in and out of something warm and wet and tight that hurdled Remus towards orgasm at something close to the speed of light.
It was unstoppable, inevitable, and Remus let it take total control, the only thing mattering the whip on his back and his balls drawing up, sending his seed raging up his cock, and he was coming, but not inside that hot wet heat, but half-suspended in the air. His prick pulsed, spurting semen while Remus shuddered and moaned and spasmed and sobbed, feeling warm and cold and loved and hated and not exactly alive anymore but better, immortal, with Sirius, and then it was over.
Remus felt exhausted, broken, more dead than alive, as if he'd just changed back on a morning after the full moon, and he wanted to collapse. But couldn't. Because Snape said it wasn't over yet, and there was still something he had to do. Remus looked up, blinking against reality, swallowing away the last of his moans, and he saw Harry, his dead lover's godson, their best friend's son, face covered with his come, flushed and hurt and beautiful and perfect.
It began to dawn on Remus again what exactly just had happened, and while he shifted towards Harry, his arms still bound behind his back, he tried to keep that overwhelming feeling of guilt at bay as long as he could. At least until he had carried out Snape's hopefully last order.
Closing his eyes, Remus leaned his face towards Harry's, smelling himself so strongly he wanted to draw back again, but he didn't, because he knew Snape was watching them. Remus licked up Harry's cheek, tasting his bitter seed and something salty that could be tears and something bittersweet that was Harry's spoiled innocence. He moved his tongue lovingly across Harry's face, tasting and trying not to feel what he shouldn't be feeling.
And when he reached Harry's mouth, he did the only thing he could think of. He slipped his tongue inside that now familiar moist heat and swirled it around, his lips moving across Harry's hesitantly, taking in the soft curves of the mouth beneath his. Remus didn't even realize that he was kissing Harry, because it felt natural and good and even though Harry was hesitant at first, soon enough a warm tongue met his, and they were stroking and tasting and loving and it was the perfect ending to something that had been right while it should have been wrong.
Severus resisted the urge to tap his foot impatiently as Lupin carried out his last command. Now that they were finished, he was eager to return to the solitude of his chambers at Hogwarts and revel in the memory of all that had transpired. He watched as Lupin slowly traced paths through the muck he'd left on Potter's face, unaware he was licking his own lips until he drew his tongue back into his mouth and felt the cool air playing across his skin.
Potter's face was clean, his cheeks flushed and glistening in the torchlight. Severus turned away for a moment to replace the whip in its holder, and when he turned back, expecting to see Lupin kneeling submissively with his head bowed as it always was at the conclusion of their sessions, he was horrified to see Potter and Lupin joined at the lips, sharing the kind of kiss usually reserved for long-time lovers.
It took a mighty effort not to snatch the whip back down from the wall and flay the skin from both of their backs.
A knot of something intangible -- rage, perhaps, or the righteous indignation of the master when his pet has decided to bestow its affections upon another -- tightened in Severus' chest, and he stalked back toward the kneeling couple with quick, angry steps. "Enough of this," he said, shoving them roughly apart.
The idea of leaving suddenly lost its appeal, as Severus realized Lupin and Potter would be alone in the house together now, and this new-found attraction between them would have no boundary. Yet the idea of staying in this house where the man he loathed more than any other had been born and bred was abhorrent as well; even with that man dead, the house was redolent with the stench of his life. Every shadowy corner burst with the memory of him. And of his brother, whom Severus had not thought of without pain for more than 15 years.
Staying was out of the question. Severus took a deep breath. Luckily, he was not entirely without options here.
His wand felt heavy in his hand as he spoke the Finite Incantatum that released Lupin from his bonds. "I shan't heal you tonight, Lupin," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "You say you want the pain only I can give you, therefore, you will live with it. And remember that if I learn you have fucked him without me present, I shall never hurt you again." He turned to Potter and stared into his Imperius-glazed eyes. "As for you Potter, you will not allow him to touch you."
Satisfied that his threat and the curse would keep them apart, Severus collected his things and crossed to the door. "Lupin," he said, almost as an afterthought, though the idea had been percolating in his brain almost since the beginning of their session. "I want to see you in my chambers tomorrow evening at sunset." He nodded in Harry's direction. "And bring him with you."
Severus' robes swished once as he swept through the open door, and then he was gone.
The first warm lick had Harry trembling with the desire to repeat the last half hour. Without Snape this time. Or... No! What was he thinking? Of course without Snape. And now, just maybe, he had a chance with Remus.
He followed the lapping tongue, turning his face like a heliotrope seeking the sun, breath catching when the tentative licks changed to broad strokes. Harry almost didn't notice when Remus slipped his tongue past his parted lips; the gentle bath was so intimate the new level hardly registered.
And when it did, when it sunk in that Remus was kissing him, was kissing him with tongue, was kissing him more thoroughly and gently and lovingly than he'd ever thought possible, Harry had to respond, even though his first inclination was to stand there like a fool and wonder how something so wrong had ended with the fulfillment of his deepest fantasy.
Hesitant arms crept around Remus' waist, stealing inches until the way Remus curved into him gave permission. And then Harry molded himself to Remus' hard body. If he could leach a promise through skin he would have had Remus' undying devotion right there.
And then he was sprawled on the floor, looking up at a towering Snape.
Who still seemed to think Harry was under Imperius.
He looked over at Remus as Snape swept out, his final command hanging in the air, pressing upon him questions he didn't even want to think about let alone answer. He could feel the ghost of Snape's cock throbbing in his arse, and he looked away before Remus could guess his thoughts, or his free will.
One moment Remus was kissing Harry like he'd only ever kissed one other person, and the next he was gasping for air while he felt the shackles and collar release him from their straining hold.
Snape's last commands fell over Remus like ice cold water, waking him from a desire-induced coma, presenting him with the consequences of what had just taken place. Snape had forced Harry into sex with them both. Remus had enjoyed it. And Harry hadn't stopped it, when he could have.
While he nodded obediently at Snape's order to take Harry with him when he would visit the other man the next day, Remus tried to sort out the mess in his head, hardly noticing Snape leaving. Looking at the situation objectively, one could conclude that Snape had raped Harry, and had forced Harry to rape him. Harry had every right to report this to the authorities, and that would mean the end of Severus Snape. He'd be locked into Azkaban, and the key would be thrown away.
And then Remus would lose yet another... lover? Snape wasn't quite his lover, but they shared something intimate that Remus couldn't possibly bear to lose now. Not after he'd just lost Sirius for the second time in his life. So, the answer was simple. Whatever had started during that night would not end anytime soon. Not if Remus could help it, morals and ethics be damned.
"Harry," he whispered, sitting heavily on the cold floor, back stinging and muscles aching. "I know you can resist the Imperius." Remus looked up at Harry, expression solemn and grave, and he kept silent for a moment, to give Harry the time to grasp just exactly what he was saying.
"You have every right to report what has happened here tonight." His voice was nothing more than a whisper, but his amber eyes were slightly narrowed, fixed on Harry intensely. "However, if you choose to go to the authorities, be aware that because you can resist Imperius, you will be as much to blame in this as Snape is."
He really didn't want to force Harry into anything. He really didn't want to manipulate Harry like that. But the idea of losing the only thing that was keeping him sane at the moment was unbearable, and it made it easy for Remus to ignore that he had just told his dead lover's godson, their best friend's son, that he had no choice but to keep having rough sex with both him and Snape.
"But since you are not under the curse, perhaps we can ignore some of the orders Snape gave us." Remus scooted closer to Harry, and tentatively placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, squeezing softly.
Harry froze, ice cold fear pouring down his spine. Remus knew. Remus knew and had let him. Didn't that make Remus just as culpable? He could understand Remus not wanting Snape in Azkaban; the Order did need him after all, much as it galled Harry to admit.
But, God, it was like a hot poker to the chest to hear it, and hear it so obtusely, as though he were incapable of understanding or letting go or bowing to the greater good, as if he were a child incapable of understanding the situation, who needed cajoling and fear of punishment to behave.
Harry shifted closer to Remus, and tilted his head up, obedient, numb. I would have done what you asked anyway, he wanted to cry as he pressed his lips to his new lover's.
Potter's face was clean, his cheeks flushed and glistening in the torchlight. Severus turned away for a moment to replace the whip in its holder, and when he turned back, expecting to see Lupin kneeling submissively with his head bowed as it always was at the conclusion of their sessions, he was horrified to see Potter and Lupin joined at the lips, sharing the kind of kiss usually reserved for long-time lovers.