Last Time

A/N: Please do not continue reading if you are offended by male-male relationships.

5: Last Time

Snape sat in his armchair in front of the happily crackling fire, his shirt open and half cast down over his shoulders. He looked strangely embarrassed; it was obvious that he would have preferred it if Remus hadn't asked him to show him the freshly healed scars on his chest. In the golden light of the dancing flames, Remus could sense his friend's uneasiness and assumed that right now, in this moment, an urge to cover himself washed over Severus. Remus wouldn't have been surprised if the Potions master had grabbed him by the arm and thrown him out.

But he didn't. Severus just grabbed the armrests with dry, cold hands and bowed his head, thus allowing the werewolf to do what he needed to do: see him. Maybe even touch him.

Remus's face was covered by shadows as he stood still with his back to the fire, but his body-language spoke of how shocked he was at the sight of the scars. He didn't move; he didn't speak. His mouth was clamped shut, and his hands were balled to tight fists. His eyes roamed across Severus's chest, and involuntarily, he took a step closer. Reached out a hand and touched the pale skin of the man sitting in front of him.

With a slight push, Remus ordered his friend to lean back.

Staring, the werewolf saw with his own eyes what he had done. He observed the long scars running from the Potions master's left collar bone across his chest, his abdomen, and down to his right hip. Five parallel lines, deep and red. They looked as if some mad artist had painted them onto the pale flesh; they didn't seem real.

Like a dreamwalker, Remus placed his fingertips on Severus's shoulder, one finger for each line. He had to spread his hand wide: a werewolf's paw was larger than a man's hand.

Gently, almost tenderly, Remus ran his fingers down the healed wounds he had caused. His touch was hesitant and determined at the same time; he seemed eager to get behind the secret of those scars, as it was utterly impossible that he had made them. He was a friendly man and hated violence. He was a loving man, and he would never cause harm willingly. The wizard who was at the moment shivering under his hands was his friend, had been so for years. They had spent countless evenings together, sitting and talking. They had eaten together; they had become merrily drunk together. Most importantly, they had laughed together – they were friends, for Merlin's sake, and the werewolf was revolted at the evident proof of his murderous brutality.

And Severus had seen him at every full moon change into a wolf, had watched over him when being vulnerable – something no one else had ever done for him for such a long time. How could it be that there were scars from his claws on the Potions master's skin?

"How could I do that to you?" Remus whispered, then pulled off the Potions master's shirt completely, tossed it away carelessly. He needed to see all the damage he had caused, not only the long scars on the chest but...

Damn. Good grief, the back didn't look any better, and by the strangled sound Severus had just made, the wound still hurt as well. But Remus needed to see. He needed to see with his own eyes what he had done so he would never, ever forget about his stupidity. In his desperate attempt to free his wife and son from his presence without leaving them absolutely penniless, he had nearly killed someone he held dear.

"I'm so very sorry," Remus murmured, and placed both his hands on Severus's shoulders now, trying to reassure him that he hadn't meant to really kill him.

The Potions master didn't say a word. He sat bent forward now, both elbows on his knees and head hanging low, accepting and enduring the werewolf's touch. He was breathing hard, and from his position Remus could see that his eyes were squeezed shut and his jaw set.

Suddenly, Remus became aware of the fact that Severus was trembling, shivering, and that he didn't talk because he had clenched his teeth together. Both of Severus's hands were balled to fists – he looked as if he were awaiting a beating.

Slowly, Remus stepped behind his friend, never taking his hands off him. After a moment, he rested his palms on Severus's neck before tracing one of the scars down to the hem of the black trousers.

The dark wizard gasped. It was a tiny sound, barely audible, but a werewolf had exceptional hearing abilities. In this case, Remus couldn't hear his friend's heartbeat speeding up, but he could feel it under his fingertips.

"Severus," Remus murmured, bending lower. "Tell me – when was the last time someone touched you with no other reason than giving you pleasure?"

Such a harmless question. But the Potions master's muscles tightened, got hard as stone under the soft touch. He didn't answer.

Remus wasn't in the mood to let it go. "When was the last time you have been touched at all?" he asked in a low voice. "By a lover; a woman. By anyone you wanted to be with?" His fingertips found Severus's ribs under the silky texture of the skin; they followed the spine upwards. They wandered to the neck, parted the dark curtain of the Potions master's long hair and revealed the pulse hammering in his throat.

"I cannot remember," Severus breathed. "Why do you... ask?"

Remus painted circles over Severus's shoulder blades, leaving goose bumps in the wake of his touch. Out of an impulse, he stepped round the chair and knelt down to be at eye level with his friend. Something had changed, had changed completely in only a few harmless moments, and he very badly wanted to find out what it was.

"Severus, I know you are not gay, but you react to my touch like a starving man reacts to the prospect of food," Remus stated calmly. And because he had foreseen the reaction to that statement, he was able to stop Severus from jumping up and getting out of the situation by simply holding him down with sheer force. "I think... I believe you like to be touched by me. Tell me if I shall go on, and I will. Happily. Otherwise, tell me also, and I will leave. But you have to tell me!"

Too many options, obviously. Severus turned his head away, his face hard and forbidding, his eyes nothing but small slits. What he didn't do, though, was shake off Remus's hands.

Ah, well, the day has begun strange, it might as well end strange, Remus thought and brought one hand up to Severus's face. The other he kept on the Potions master's knee in a hard grip. Somehow, he felt like a hunter chasing prey. "When have you last been kissed, Severus?"

Black eyes narrowed. "I have to pay for a shag," Snape bit out. "Kissing is not included in the price. Stop mocking me, wolf!"

"I'm not," Remus said, locking his hand behind Severus's neck and pulling him down, out of the chair and onto the floor. It was surprisingly easy – after a moment, both men were kneeling in front of each other right before the fireplace, warmed by the flames. Shadows danced across Severus's chest, disguising the scars.

Remus, really not sure if he should do what he was about to do, took his friend's face in his hands and just touched Severus's pale, cool lips with his own.

*************

To be honest, Remus expected to get knocked out at least, maybe hexed, but definitely he didn't expect to get the chance to enjoy the kiss. He would have sworn Severus would pull back immediately.

But he didn't. Instead, the Potions master seemed to be frozen to stone.

Reluctantly, Remus broke the kiss – he really didn't want to force himself upon someone too shocked to react.

Well, it hadn't been a real kiss, just the brushing of skin against skin. Remus released his friend's face and lowered his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "I know you don't..."

Fast and nearly brutal, Snape reached out and pulled Remus closer. Their lips connected again, but this time it was more than a brief contact. Hot and demanding was the mouth of the Potions master; his tongue forced its way into the werewolf's mouth, and Remus welcomed the kiss, deepened it. Breathing fast, they kissed each other hard enough to crack lips.

Simultaneously, they sunk to the floor. Remus, being stronger and knowing exactly what he wanted, pushed his friend down, his hand on the Potions master's naked chest, feeling the wild heartbeat under his palm. At his thigh, he could feel Severus's hardening cock, and his own heart flipped.

Still they kissed. It was a battle, a dance; it was hunger and power and greed. It was a fight they fought with their mouths and tongues, and in one swift movement, Remus placed his longing hand high on the inside of Severus's thigh. An invitation, a question...

A gasp, deep and harsh, emerged Snape's throat. Remus, lying on top, had him pinned down with his left arm and his full weight. Staring into Severus's face, he nudged up his chin and gently kissed the tall, dark wizard's neck. His right hand moved higher, found hardness, and began to rub it through the fabric of the Potions master's woollen trousers.

Hard. Big. Hot. I want him, Remus thought, surprised. He hadn't slept with a man in years, but now, here, totally unexpected, he was craving for action. And so was his – somewhat innocent – partner.

"Tell me what you want, Severus," Remus rasped, getting hard himself. "Tell me, and you'll get it. Whatever you want. Tell me. Please!"

**********

Instead of an answer, Severus arched his back and pressed his groin against the werewolf's hand. The feeling of a hand other than his own on his cock was overwhelming, entrancing, and he had no intention to end this experiment anytime soon. His whole body, a moment ago aching, empty and lonely, was now burning with need. The werewolf's scent, wild and rich, turned him on in a way he hadn't thought possible. That a man could turn him on at all was disturbing; but then, what the hell. His plans for the evening hadn't been that interesting.

The hand between his legs moved higher and began to unbutton his fly, and Snape groaned with desire. He couldn't remember when he had been at the brothel the last time, not even when he had touched himself in the quiet hours of the night. Those were needs he usually just didn't have. That he was lying on his back on the floor of his own living room, shirt open and trousers open and getting a hand-job by a werewolf was... well, he certainly hadn't expected this turn in their conversation.

Remus impatiently pushed down the Potions master's trousers and wrapped his strong fingers round Snape's length. Unlike the hesitant, tentative, gentle touch of a woman, the werewolf's grip was hard enough to be painful.

Wonderful. Perfect.

"Don't... stop!" Snape managed, his heart beating a maddening rhythm in his chest. Blindly, he reached up and caught Remus's neck, pulling him down for another kiss. He could feel his hips bucking under the werewolf's stroking hand, his strong fingers. His cock thrust into a fist that wasn't his own and gods, it felt so goddamn good, especially because he got kissed at the same time, and not tentatively and gently, but forceful and demanding. Was that him moaning for more? Yes, definitely.

That left the question of what he wanted. But it was hard to think when having a hand round one's cock and a tongue in one's mouth and Snape only knew that he wanted this to continue.

"I don't want you to come in my hand," Remus's voice purred in his ear and was it really possible to become harder than he already was?

Yes, it was. Rock-hard, stone-hard – clichés, but the Potions master certainly hadn't been that hard in decades. Or ever, even. "What?" he managed, digging his own hands in Remus's back, sending the buttons of his friend's shirt flying across the room and shredding the shirt itself only a moment later. He wanted to feel naked skin against his own, he wanted to feel muscles and bones under his exploring hands, and how did Remus manage to get out of his trousers without him noticing it?

Snape had never, ever as much as fantasised of being with another man. He had believed himself entirely heterosexual. Or asexual, considering the lack of physical contact in his life. But gay? No. That another man could arouse him had been a ridiculous idea less than half an hour ago. There was nothing soft on a male body, nothing round, nothing welcoming. Remus was all bones and muscles, hard flesh and flexible sinews. He owned a flat belly, a haggard chest, a sandpaper chin. The hands were too big and too strong; the kiss was rough, the lips not soft and female as they should be.

But those lips were giving Snape the best kiss he'd had in decades, and that arse under his hand felt marvellous. The hoarse, rough gasps in his ear told him that he wasn't the only one aroused.

Still, there was an open question. And he didn't even have to answer it, as Remus was phrasing his wishes clearly.

"Come inside me, Severus," the werewolf rasped.

Simultaneously, Snape heard his friend casting a spell, a small and quick piece of magic. "What?" he asked again, taken off-handed by the whispered words. But there was no mistaking the meaning of the spell: Snape felt his cock getting slick and so experienced first hand the works of a Lubrication spell. He wanted to say something, to argue maybe, but then he was kissed again and he nearly spilled at the sensation and the sudden realisation that Remus really, really didn't want to stop right now. The Lubrication spell was perfectly timed – truly, sometimes it came in handy to be a wizard.

The hand on his cock still moved up and down, but now the Potions master was craving for a different kind of action. "Say that again," he urged, grabbing Remus's face between his hands and forcing his friend to look into his eyes.

Remus didn't hesitate. "Fuck me," he said. "Now. Here. Fuck me until we both come."

There was possibly no clearer way to express one's wishes, and therefore, Snape took his friend's shoulders and forced him around, face down onto the thick, soft carpet they were playing on. After a moment of consideration, he wrapped his fingers round his own cock, thus spreading the lubricant over his hand. Hesitantly, Snape then touched Remus's arse only to have it pressed against his palm instantly.

His cock twitched. The dark-haired wizard brought his left arm up and pinned Remus down to the carpet, slipping his right leg across the body underneath him. Now, the werewolf was immobilised, and Snape was free to touch wherever he wanted to touch. Shoulders and spine, thighs and hips. Buttocks. Mainly buttocks. And the small, puckered hole in between.

Remus moaned, deep and longingly. His hands and fingers crumpled the carpet, his shoulders moved in the attempt to get closer to the body behind him. "Fuck me!" he groaned, sheer need in his voice.

Willing to experiment in every direction Remus suggested, Snape pressed his cock against Remus's hip and began to move in a slow, shagging movement that drove him half crazy and assumingly didn't do anything to calm the lust that burned in Remus, either. His hand spread the werewolf's buttocks; his fingers found the anus. Circling it, Snape vaguely wondered how to continue.

"Severus!" Remus managed, his voice strained with desire, and Snape suddenly knew what to do. He wanted to be inside this lean body, wanted to feel tightness and heat around his cock. Slipping on top of the werewolf, he rubbed his cock along the cleft.

With a jerk of his hips, the werewolf moved his arse and at the same moment clutched his hand deep in Severus's buttock, forcing him on.

Remus growled with lust when his friend's cock slipped inside him in one long movement, and Snape just grabbed his friend's hips with both his hands, eager to fuck, eager to find release. They only needed a few moments to find a rhythm that suited them both, and Snape used his knee to spread Remus's legs a bit wider so he could adjust to this body underneath him and the needs of his partner.

"Slower!" Remus rasped, and the Potions master obeyed.

"Touch... me," Remus begged, and found his lover's hand with his own. He pulled, and Snape followed. A moment later, the Potions master's fingers were wrapped around a cock again, only that it wasn't his cock this time, but the werewolf's.

Ah, but now the rhythm got more complicated. Remus's head was resting at his friend's chest, and Snape could just see the side of the werewolf's face. His eyes were closed, the mouth wide-open. Moans spoke clearly of how much Remus enjoyed this. And hell, he enjoyed it massively himself. To feel Remus's hardness in his hand, to feel muscles clench round his cock, and now, to feel the werewolf come, seeing him spill over his hand.

Groaning, Snape thrust once more inside the body that shuddered underneath him and came, released his own lust and heard his own, harsh groans in the candle-lit darkness of his room.

They made it to bed after their first time in front of the fireplace, mainly because they weren't twenty anymore, and a hard floor was not the most comfortable place to rest, carpet or no carpet. After they had found their breath again, and after they had cast a Cleansing Charm or two, they got up and found the bedroom, falling onto the mattress whilst kissing, making the bed creak in protest.

With a wave, Snape lit some candles. Usually, sex didn't last long when he went to the brothel or, sometimes, was forced by his need to go for a knee-trembler in the darker corners of Knockturn Alley. There certainly was never time for tenderness afterwards, time to look at what he had got himself for the few Galleons he could spare for a whore.

But now there was light, there was time, there was warmth, and there was someone who didn't mind to get looked at. Remus was lying spread-eagled on the bed, one arm propped under his head, an amused smile playing on his lips.

"Like what you see?" he asked and reached out to pull his naked friend next to him.

"I've seen you naked before," the Potions master pointed out and placed his hand on the werewolf's chest. The heartbeat he felt beating under his palm sped up a bit at the gentle touch. He smiled – usually, he couldn't make a heart speed up whatever he did, as the woman was usually all too eager to get away and towards the next customer. He liked the sensation of being wanted, simply because this was very, very rarely happening to him.

Carefully, Snape ran his hand up to Remus's throat, then higher to his cheekbones, the mouth, the eyebrows. The night had just begun, and he was more than willing to explore whatever the upcoming hours offered him.

*******************

Remus allowed his eyelids to fall close. The touch of Severus's fingertips was so very tender, as if his friend was surprised of something. Maybe of the fact that he wouldn't sleep alone in his bed, for a change, Remus thought. He knew that Severus was a solitary man who didn't seek company, spent his days and nights alone. Usually.

And now he sat in his bed, this tall, dark, silent man, and caressed the one friend whose life he just had saved with a delicacy that took said friend's breath away.

"Gods, Severus, I didn't know how much I have missed that," Remus murmured whilst Severus trailed his fingertips down his shoulders towards his hands.

"Missed what?"

"Missed being touched by a man. Missed being with a man. A man smells differently; a man's voice can drive me crazy; the fact that a man is hard and bony and muscular where a woman is soft and softer and even more soft... I missed it."

Severus's voice was mildly curious when he asked, "So you haven't been with a man since... a while?"

Remus laughed softly and could barely think of anything else but those hands on his skin. Severus had long, thin, cool fingers, and they were immensely skilled in giving pleasure by simply touching, caressing, arousing. "No, definitely not," he answered. "Before I married Tonks, long before. I never found one I wanted to stay with. And after a while I got tired of meaningless sex." Opening his eyes to the golden darkness, he looked directly into Severus's eyes. "Believe me – I never thought about you in this way before tonight." Catching the long black hair in his fist, he pulled until Severus's face was only an inch away from his. "This is a surprise for me," he murmured and brushed his friend's lips. "And it's a first time as well – I have never kissed a virgin before."

As expected, Severus tried to pull back at this statement, but Remus didn't let go of the black strands. Instead, he used his other hand to force Severus to lie down next to him, skin to skin, and rolled over so now it was Remus who looked down at his friend, not the other way around.

"You can hardly call me a virgin, wolf," Severus objected. "I lost my... virginity at the age of sixteen, so what are you actually talking about?"

Remus brushed the hair out of Severus's face, then went lower and placed both his hand on his friend's narrow hips. "Have you been ever caressed by a man, Severus?" he teased, sitting up. "Have you ever been touched by a man, got aroused by a man's hand; have you ever been fucked by a man?" With his words, he placed himself between Severus's legs.

Severus looked positively stunned. "No!" he managed after a while.

"Then you are a virgin in this area, and I have every intention to pleasure you out of your chastity before the night is over," Remus stated matter-of-factly, leaned over, and kissed him.

Several minutes passed, and not much was to be heard but the breathing of the two men. Finally, Remus reluctantly came to the conclusion that if he went on kissing he would spill over his friend's belly like a teenager, and freed Severus's lips. He was getting hard already again despite his recent orgasm. I want him, Remus thought once more. I want him bad, and I shall be damned if I don't get him.

Placing his hands together as if praying, Remus cast another little spell and felt his hands warm up instantly. Placing them on Severus's chest he began to knead the muscles, rubbing scented oil into the marble-white skin.

Severus's voice was hoarse when he asked, "What are you doing?" but he didn't move an inch, clearly enjoying Remus's touch.

"I am massaging you; arousing you – and it's a nice difference to a Lubrication spell. I want you to close your eyes, and I want you to be silent. I won't hurt you; I won't do anything you don't want me to do. Don't talk unless you want to tell me to stop. Understood?"

Black eyes stared for very long time into brown ones. Then Severus placed his own hands on Remus's knees and closed his eyes without saying a word.

I think that's the first time ever he willingly obeyed an order, Remus thought and ran his hands from Severus's shoulders over the rib cage down to the shadowy hollows above the hip bones. From there he worked his way up again and then down the upper arms to the wrists, where he rested, remembering those hands grabbing his own hips. Remembering Severus shagging him.

The memory made him completely hard, and he growled. That sound, deep and animalistic, seemed to heat the Potions master's desire as well. Good, Remus mused and lightly brushed his palm over Severus's length. "I want you hard; I want you wanting me!" he whispered.

His cock began to ache, and with a casual movement Remus rolled Severus to his side, getting closer himself. One arm held his own weight; the other hand he placed on Severus's bum and squeezed.

Severus gasped and then yelped when Remus slipped his warm, oily fingers lower and between the Potions master's legs, gently adding pressure to the tender hole. Involuntarily, Severus spread his legs to grant better access; one pale hand found the bedpost and held on tight.

By then, Remus had trouble thinking straight, given his desire and the sight of Severus's body. Not only had he never slept with a virgin, so to speak, but he had never slept with a man who had been straight until a few hours ago, either. He vaguely remembered that the first time could be painful if one wasn't careful. And the last thing he wanted was to cause pain. What he wanted was to strip Severus of his rationality, his control, his coherent thoughts. He wanted the man underneath him to shake with pleasure; he wanted to leave Severus breathless and speechless.

And he wanted to fuck him. Gods, how much he wanted to grab Severus, bury his length inside him, and make him scream out his name.

Instead, the werewolf murmured, "Do you want me to stop?" and left the place between Severus's buttocks, instead wrapping his fingers round his friend's cock. With a small flip, Remus pulled back the foreskin, revealing the velvety head.

A harsh gasp was all the answer Remus needed. Running his fingertips over the thin slit at the top, the werewolf felt wetness. Severus quite obviously needed release as much as he did. And so Remus moved closer, pressed his length against the fair skin and held his friend's cock in a tight embrace at the same time.

Severus hissed through gritted teeth, which turned Remus on even more – he didn't talk, as ordered, but expressed his wishes clearly by pressing the whole length of his body against his partner.

Foreplay was nice, Remus decided, but enough was enough. He released Severus's hardness and brought his hand to this wonderful, pale arse once more. With his thumb, Remus circled the anus, felt Severus's breath hitch, added some more pressure and smoothly slipped first one, then a second, finger into the tight hole.

A deep moan was his reward, a growl of delight, and Remus began to move his hand in a slow, gentle, careful rhythm, in and out, neither too deep nor too fast so as to hurt his friend.

Severus threw his head back and grabbed the bedpost even tighter. His legs were spread wide now, and his breathing came in harsh gasps.

"Are you enjoying this?" Remus whispered, entranced by the sight of his engaged hand and his bobbing cock, which clearly was ready for action.

"More!" Severus rasped, the first word he had said in an hour.

"You will get more, don't you worry," Remus assured him, and his fingers pushed on, pulled back, pushed again. They both knew that this was only the beginning.

Severus trembled under his hands, but didn't move himself, just laid on the crumpled sheets and allowed Remus to do whatever he wished to do. Like pressing his forehead against the Potions master's fine-boned shoulder, inhaling the sweaty, salty scent and rasping his tongue over the delicate skin. Like nipping the soft spot between Severus's throat and shoulder with sharp teeth. Like pressing one hand on Severus's hip, thus holding him down, immobilising him, whilst he finger-fucked him.

Harsh moans of lust escaped the Potions master's mouth, and he reached behind him, searching for Remus's cock. As that wasn't an easy task under the circumstances and because Remus was too far gone by now to want anything else but to fuck anyway, the werewolf removed his fingers. Before Severus could do anything, Remus mounted him and breached the strong muscle that protected this secret entrance with a smooth, but nevertheless forceful push.

"Gods, yes!" Remus hissed, and slowly and even more carefully, he began to fuck his friend properly, hearing his own gasps and the ones from Severus.

"Tell me... if I should... stop," Remus rumbled and moved his hips, driving deeper, leaning fully onto his friend. His arm slipped over Severus's pelvis and found his cock once more, hard as his own and screaming to be touched.

"Remus!" Severus yelped and nearly broke the bedpost. His shoulder muscles stood out as he pushed himself backwards to meet the werewolf's thrusting hips, and "Harder!" he urged Remus on only a moment later, half screaming it out into the dark room.

And Remus fucked him harder, deeper, and faster, fucked the dark wizard who had been nothing but a friend until a few hours ago until they both came again, spilling their seed once more.

And laid still, bodies entangled, minds empty, lips smiling.

***************

After an eternity, Severus turned and slung one arm around Remus's body, still trembling in the aftermath of his orgasm. With his other arm, he fished for the bedcover, couldn't find it, and summoned it from somewhere on the floor. Pulling it over both of them, the Potions master got as close as possible, bathing in the heat that radiated from the werewolf.

Remus brushed his lips over Severus's shoulder, precisely on the spot where he had bitten him earlier on. Although a Scourgify had vanished every trace of their love-making, there was still a musky scent hanging in the air, speaking of sex, of sweat, and of a double climax.

Severus murmured a few words and after a moment, soft piano sounds flooded the room, entwined with the rough, melancholic voices of a violins and cellos. It was music Remus hadn't heard before; Severus usually tended to either silence or classic. This melody spoke of wide plains, rumbling rivers, sand that got chased by the storm. It spoke of loneliness and loss; it told of freedom and death. It was eternal beauty, laced with purest sadness.

Quite unexpectedly, Remus felt the small hairs in his neck stand up, felt goose bumps all along his spine although it was warm and comfortable under the duvet and in his lovers embrace. "What is this?" he murmured and brought his hand up to Severus's face. It was wet.

"Something that suits the mood," the Potions master said quietly, obviously not at all ashamed that tears were running down his cheeks. "You have caused emotions I didn't expect and which I have trouble to deal with in my usual way."

A tiny finger snap, and the candles ceased to cast light into the bedroom.

"I... this... made you sad?" Remus was shocked at the possibility that he had hurt his friend so deeply simply by making love to him.

Severus moved until his head rested on Remus's shoulder. "In a way," he answered, wiping a sated, tired hand across his tear-streaked face. "You tore down the walls I had built around me, and you left me... exposed... to a world that has, until tonight, not done much more but beaten me. I fear it will be quite hard to rebuild the walls. I fear I might not want to rebuild them. Which will make me more vulnerable than I am already." One arm found the way across Remus's waist.

Deep and longing, the violins sung of tears and pain.

It took Remus several attempts to answer. "I didn't know you call yourself vulnerable," he finally managed.

"Remus, you said it yourself: I have no love and no life. This here, us, tonight, just made it even clearer than it was before how lonely I am."

"But..."

"You didn't really think that there would be another night like this, wolf?" Severus asked, a hint of coldness in his voice.

"Hell, Severus, you can't..."

"Don't talk anymore," Severus harshly interrupted him, then added, a little softer, "Please."

The music, piano and cello and violins, filled the darkness with tenderness. Remus, though, bound to accept his friend's wish of silence, stared into the night with burning eyes long after Severus had fallen asleep and long after the music has ceased.

A/N: The music I'm referring to is "The Assassination of Jesse James" by Nick Cave. Nothing but piano and strings – it's adorable. I listened to the CD whilst I wrote this chapter, and I was unable to resist the temptation to add it to the bedroom scene.

The wording "pleasure you out of your chastity" I borrowed from the book "Flesh and spirit" by Carol Berg. Read it, it's more than worth it.