Redemption - Part 9 - Requisite
Feb. 12th, 2006 01:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
innerslytherinRequisite
Prompt: 26 - Kiss
Pairing: Remus/Severus
Warnings: Slash
WC: 1,896
Series so far:
1. Reconciliation 2. Rehabilitation 3. Recovery 4. Reply 5. Rediscovery 6. Receiving
7. Repartee 8. Relapse 9. Requisite 10. Retreat 11. Refining 12. Repose 13. Reconsidering
14. Renaissance 15. Retribution 16. Return 17.Rematch 18. Redefining 19. Relishing
20. Recognition 21. Remembering 22. Refrain 23. Reformation 24. Recrimination 25. Reliance
26. Reverting 27. Repercussion 28. Reminder
Severus’ heart is pounding as he approaches the Albus Dumbledore Ward for Combat Injuries. He keeps blinking and swallowing, trying to push the lump down out of his throat. Remus has sent for him, and he feels worse than the many long days he spent before the Wizengamot, torn between wanting to be free and just wishing they would execute him and have done with it.
What if Remus has decided he can no longer associate with him? What if Remus is angry with him? What if Remus hates him?
Why did he ask Severus to bring him slippers?
Severus pauses outside the entrance to the ward; he has almost decided to turn around and leave. There cannot be any good in store for him this afternoon. He might as well save himself the humiliation.
“Professor Snape?” He stiffens and freezes his features into hard, inexpressive lines. It is a young healer whose short black hair, pallid complexion, and pinched features look appalling with the lime-green robes. Severus studies him for a moment as the boy actually approaches him with an eager look.
“Smethwyk,” Severus says, finally remembering.
“Yes, sir! Hippocrates Smethwyk. I’m the Healer in charge of Mr Lupin’s case.” Dear Merlin, the boy seems ridiculously happy to be speaking with him.
If you had a tail, you’d be wagging it, Severus thinks. “Yes.”
“Sir, I just wanted to thank you for all that you’ve done for Mr Lupin. I know he had something of a setback this week, but I shan’t take you to task for it, considering all the improvement you’ve been responsible for.”
“I can’t imagine what you mean,” Severus says stiffly.
“Why, sir, surely you see that it is all down to you that he is doing so well!” Smethwyk’s face is open and delighted. “He’d been here nearly two months before you came, but he’d not really worked at his recovery until you arrived. Truth be told it was a relief when you showed up, because we were having more and more trouble fighting off his depression.”
“His friends,” Severus protests. He is badly off-balance suddenly, and he wants to hurt Smethwyk, though he remembers that the boy achieved an O on both his OWL and his NEWT in Potions.
“They visit him, of course, but he’s no longer really a part of their lives,” Smethwyk says. “But you, sir—well, he’s been in much better shape since you started visiting. And buying him that kitten—it was a lovely thing you did. He was ever so pleased.”
Severus feels as though the earth is trembling under his feet. “He laughed,” he says quietly.
“The last time you were here? Yes,” Smethwyk agrees. “You’re the only one who makes him laugh like that. Sir, you make him happy.”
Severus turns away blindly. If only he had known this all sooner. If only he had had some inkling…he could have kept things from Remus, could have resisted telling him everything…And now he has thrown it away, because he felt he should be honest. Then something occurs to him.
“What do you mean, buying him a kitten? I never bought him a kitten!”
Smethwyk looks confused. “Oh, I thought…well, I must have been mistaken, that’s all.”
Severus scowls. “He told me someone bought it for him. I’m having to take care of the blasted thing.”
Smethwyk’s worried look vanishes. “Oh, that’s right,” he says, relieved. “Someone else bought it for him, but he sent it to you.”
Severus stalks away, wondering why he is still moving towards Remus’ room instead of fleeing.
He pauses again outside Remus’ door, wondering if he has the courage to go in. He desperately wants to, but…
“Come in, Severus,” calls Remus’ voice, and Severus remembers that the werewolf possesses excellent hearing. He moves forward, musing that Remus can probably smell him, too.
Remus is sitting up in bed, his face full of colour and not quite as thin as it was the first time Severus came here. He wonders if it is true, if he really has helped advance Remus’ recovery. He stands before Remus, waiting for him to speak, wondering what judgment Remus will pass.
“Come sit down,” Remus urges with no hint of anger. “Did you bring me some slippers?”
Silently, Severus holds out the bag he has been carrying. They are burgundy and have a warming charm on them. Remus thanks him when he takes the bag, but sets it on the table next to his bed without opening it. “I’ve made a withdrawal from my vault. I can repay you for this.”
Severus makes a small gesture of negation. It isn’t necessary. He likes giving things to Remus. He likes watching the astonishment bloom into happiness on Remus’ face when he opens gifts. He likes knowing he has made Remus happy.
Remus now does not seem very happy, though. He makes a small noise and says, “Severus, will you speak to me?”
“I’m sorry,” Severus says, which is the best substitute he can think of for Please don’t throw me out.
“Don’t apologize to me,” Remus says. “We are past the need for apologies, aren’t we? For the past, at least. We have to let go of the past if there’s going to be any sort of future.”
Severus wonders if there is hope for a future for them. He stares at Remus for a long instant, then says, “Yes. Yes, you’re right.”
Remus’ bright golden gaze is fixed on his face. “Severus…do you think we have a future ahead of us?” The uncertainty, the hesitation, the hope in his voice all surprise Severus. But he gazes back at Remus and nods slowly.
“I hope so,” he says, his voice very low. “I…perhaps I shouldn’t have told you.”
“No, I’m glad you did,” Remus protests. “It’s good to know some things.”
“I didn’t think you’d want me to come back,” Severus admits.
Remus’ eyes ignite with something he doesn’t recognize at once. “I will always want you to come back,” he says.
Severus cannot suppress the tiny smile that brings to his lips. He tries to look away and can’t.
“Severus, come sit by me. We ought to talk.”
Severus obeys. He hopes they won’t talk about their letters. It is easier, in one sense, to share of himself in a letter, where he knows there will be no immediate response. He is able to put a layer of distance between them, something to protect himself. He thinks Remus understands this.
Remus smiles at him and turns to face him. “How is Wolfsbane?”
Severus blinks. “He refuses to give up the ridiculous habit of sleeping on my pillow. And he ate the edges of an article I’m writing, but fortunately the substance was undamaged.”
Remus laughs. “Do you like him?”
“Yes, damn it,” Severus replies. “That was bloody Slytherin of you.”
“I thought,” Remus agrees complacently. “Of course I’ll take him once I’m released from here. I’ve been working hard at it.”
“Yes, that’s what Smethwyk tells me,” Severus says. He gives Remus a sidelong look. “I may have to have more frequent conversations with Smethwyk. He is very informative.”
Amusingly, Remus looks somewhat nervous. “I can’t imagine what he could tell you that I couldn’t,” he says casually.
Severus’ tiny smile grows a bit bigger. “Plenty of things. You probably wouldn’t think to tell me most of them, anyway. People who know little about potions rarely think of everything.” Which was true, though misleading.
Remus shifts a bit. “How are you, Severus?” he says. It is a blatant change of topic, and Severus debates for a moment whether or not to allow it.
“Are you afraid of something Smethwyk will tell me?” he asks finally. He’s watching Remus closely, so he sees the spread of pink along Remus’ cheekbones.
“Perhaps,” Remus allows. “I suppose there are some things I would rather tell you myself.”
Severus raises an eyebrow, amused. Remus is not throwing him out. Remus is blushing. Severus thinks this is a good sign. He nods. “I’m doing well,” he says, answering Remus’ earlier question. “I’ve been refining the recipe for the pain potion I developed for you. I’ve also been cleaning up all the messes your dreadful kitten makes.” And being tricked into playing with the dratted beast. Two nights ago it brought him one of its fuzzy toys and he threw it away from him four times before he realized the ‘idiot’ creature was using him as a playmate. Bloody Slytherin cat.
“I’m sorry,” Remus says. “I suppose it was too much of an imposition to ask you to care for him. I’ll arrange for Ginny to take him.”
“Oh, by now I’ve grown used to it,” Severus says with a long-suffering tone. “You might as well leave the thing where he is.”
Remus smiles. “Are you certain?”
Severus would miss that ridiculously loud purr in his ear while he sleeps; and he is certain that Remus knows this. “Quite certain.” He surveys Remus for a moment. “Smethwyk said you’ve been overexerting yourself.” Remus opens his mouth, but Severus continues, “He said you were here for two months without even trying to recover your strength.”
Remus looks down, his fingers pulling at the covers. After a long silence, he says, “I wasn’t certain if there was any point to trying.” There is another long silence. “I was tired, Severus.” His voice is resigned.
For a long while, Severus doesn’t respond. His heart begins pounding again as he thinks. Finally he swallows and asks, his voice low. “Does it mean so much to know that someone cares about you?”
He has said it, and it cannot now be unsaid. He wants to run away. He wants to pass it off as a cruel joke. He wants to Obliviate Remus. He wants Remus to answer him. He keeps his gaze on Remus’ hands, which is much safer than seeing a look of dawning pity on his face.
But one of the hands moves, and Severus cannot even think of drawing back. The hand curls around his jaw, gently guiding Severus to lift his head and look at him. Golden eyes meet his, and they are strangely bright and filled with wonder.
“Not someone, Severus.” He pauses. “You.”
And Severus decides there may yet be hope and happiness in the world. He leans close, watching Remus’ eyes go wide, then fall shut, and he lifts his own hand to cup the werewolf’s cheek, and then their mouths meet. Remus’ lips are hot and dry, slightly rough. He hasn’t shaved today. Severus feels a thrill run through him as Remus sighs softly and slides his fingers up into Severus’ ragged hair.
Remus’ lips part and Severus slides his tongue in, eager yet almost frightened. Remus’ mouth tastes of tea and medicine, and Severus remembers that he forgot to clean his teeth after lunch, and it’s been so long since he kissed someone that he is preoccupied with his nose not getting in the way. He explores Remus’ mouth with soft, slow motions, lifting his other hand to cradle Remus’ face. His heart feels as though it will push through his chest, and he feels an ache in his throat and a sting in his eyes and fiercely forbids himself to cry.
It is the most perfect moment in all of Severus’ life.
Prompt: 26 - Kiss
Pairing: Remus/Severus
Warnings: Slash
WC: 1,896
Series so far:
1. Reconciliation 2. Rehabilitation 3. Recovery 4. Reply 5. Rediscovery 6. Receiving
7. Repartee 8. Relapse 9. Requisite 10. Retreat 11. Refining 12. Repose 13. Reconsidering
14. Renaissance 15. Retribution 16. Return 17.Rematch 18. Redefining 19. Relishing
20. Recognition 21. Remembering 22. Refrain 23. Reformation 24. Recrimination 25. Reliance
26. Reverting 27. Repercussion 28. Reminder
Severus’ heart is pounding as he approaches the Albus Dumbledore Ward for Combat Injuries. He keeps blinking and swallowing, trying to push the lump down out of his throat. Remus has sent for him, and he feels worse than the many long days he spent before the Wizengamot, torn between wanting to be free and just wishing they would execute him and have done with it.
What if Remus has decided he can no longer associate with him? What if Remus is angry with him? What if Remus hates him?
Why did he ask Severus to bring him slippers?
Severus pauses outside the entrance to the ward; he has almost decided to turn around and leave. There cannot be any good in store for him this afternoon. He might as well save himself the humiliation.
“Professor Snape?” He stiffens and freezes his features into hard, inexpressive lines. It is a young healer whose short black hair, pallid complexion, and pinched features look appalling with the lime-green robes. Severus studies him for a moment as the boy actually approaches him with an eager look.
“Smethwyk,” Severus says, finally remembering.
“Yes, sir! Hippocrates Smethwyk. I’m the Healer in charge of Mr Lupin’s case.” Dear Merlin, the boy seems ridiculously happy to be speaking with him.
If you had a tail, you’d be wagging it, Severus thinks. “Yes.”
“Sir, I just wanted to thank you for all that you’ve done for Mr Lupin. I know he had something of a setback this week, but I shan’t take you to task for it, considering all the improvement you’ve been responsible for.”
“I can’t imagine what you mean,” Severus says stiffly.
“Why, sir, surely you see that it is all down to you that he is doing so well!” Smethwyk’s face is open and delighted. “He’d been here nearly two months before you came, but he’d not really worked at his recovery until you arrived. Truth be told it was a relief when you showed up, because we were having more and more trouble fighting off his depression.”
“His friends,” Severus protests. He is badly off-balance suddenly, and he wants to hurt Smethwyk, though he remembers that the boy achieved an O on both his OWL and his NEWT in Potions.
“They visit him, of course, but he’s no longer really a part of their lives,” Smethwyk says. “But you, sir—well, he’s been in much better shape since you started visiting. And buying him that kitten—it was a lovely thing you did. He was ever so pleased.”
Severus feels as though the earth is trembling under his feet. “He laughed,” he says quietly.
“The last time you were here? Yes,” Smethwyk agrees. “You’re the only one who makes him laugh like that. Sir, you make him happy.”
Severus turns away blindly. If only he had known this all sooner. If only he had had some inkling…he could have kept things from Remus, could have resisted telling him everything…And now he has thrown it away, because he felt he should be honest. Then something occurs to him.
“What do you mean, buying him a kitten? I never bought him a kitten!”
Smethwyk looks confused. “Oh, I thought…well, I must have been mistaken, that’s all.”
Severus scowls. “He told me someone bought it for him. I’m having to take care of the blasted thing.”
Smethwyk’s worried look vanishes. “Oh, that’s right,” he says, relieved. “Someone else bought it for him, but he sent it to you.”
Severus stalks away, wondering why he is still moving towards Remus’ room instead of fleeing.
He pauses again outside Remus’ door, wondering if he has the courage to go in. He desperately wants to, but…
“Come in, Severus,” calls Remus’ voice, and Severus remembers that the werewolf possesses excellent hearing. He moves forward, musing that Remus can probably smell him, too.
Remus is sitting up in bed, his face full of colour and not quite as thin as it was the first time Severus came here. He wonders if it is true, if he really has helped advance Remus’ recovery. He stands before Remus, waiting for him to speak, wondering what judgment Remus will pass.
“Come sit down,” Remus urges with no hint of anger. “Did you bring me some slippers?”
Silently, Severus holds out the bag he has been carrying. They are burgundy and have a warming charm on them. Remus thanks him when he takes the bag, but sets it on the table next to his bed without opening it. “I’ve made a withdrawal from my vault. I can repay you for this.”
Severus makes a small gesture of negation. It isn’t necessary. He likes giving things to Remus. He likes watching the astonishment bloom into happiness on Remus’ face when he opens gifts. He likes knowing he has made Remus happy.
Remus now does not seem very happy, though. He makes a small noise and says, “Severus, will you speak to me?”
“I’m sorry,” Severus says, which is the best substitute he can think of for Please don’t throw me out.
“Don’t apologize to me,” Remus says. “We are past the need for apologies, aren’t we? For the past, at least. We have to let go of the past if there’s going to be any sort of future.”
Severus wonders if there is hope for a future for them. He stares at Remus for a long instant, then says, “Yes. Yes, you’re right.”
Remus’ bright golden gaze is fixed on his face. “Severus…do you think we have a future ahead of us?” The uncertainty, the hesitation, the hope in his voice all surprise Severus. But he gazes back at Remus and nods slowly.
“I hope so,” he says, his voice very low. “I…perhaps I shouldn’t have told you.”
“No, I’m glad you did,” Remus protests. “It’s good to know some things.”
“I didn’t think you’d want me to come back,” Severus admits.
Remus’ eyes ignite with something he doesn’t recognize at once. “I will always want you to come back,” he says.
Severus cannot suppress the tiny smile that brings to his lips. He tries to look away and can’t.
“Severus, come sit by me. We ought to talk.”
Severus obeys. He hopes they won’t talk about their letters. It is easier, in one sense, to share of himself in a letter, where he knows there will be no immediate response. He is able to put a layer of distance between them, something to protect himself. He thinks Remus understands this.
Remus smiles at him and turns to face him. “How is Wolfsbane?”
Severus blinks. “He refuses to give up the ridiculous habit of sleeping on my pillow. And he ate the edges of an article I’m writing, but fortunately the substance was undamaged.”
Remus laughs. “Do you like him?”
“Yes, damn it,” Severus replies. “That was bloody Slytherin of you.”
“I thought,” Remus agrees complacently. “Of course I’ll take him once I’m released from here. I’ve been working hard at it.”
“Yes, that’s what Smethwyk tells me,” Severus says. He gives Remus a sidelong look. “I may have to have more frequent conversations with Smethwyk. He is very informative.”
Amusingly, Remus looks somewhat nervous. “I can’t imagine what he could tell you that I couldn’t,” he says casually.
Severus’ tiny smile grows a bit bigger. “Plenty of things. You probably wouldn’t think to tell me most of them, anyway. People who know little about potions rarely think of everything.” Which was true, though misleading.
Remus shifts a bit. “How are you, Severus?” he says. It is a blatant change of topic, and Severus debates for a moment whether or not to allow it.
“Are you afraid of something Smethwyk will tell me?” he asks finally. He’s watching Remus closely, so he sees the spread of pink along Remus’ cheekbones.
“Perhaps,” Remus allows. “I suppose there are some things I would rather tell you myself.”
Severus raises an eyebrow, amused. Remus is not throwing him out. Remus is blushing. Severus thinks this is a good sign. He nods. “I’m doing well,” he says, answering Remus’ earlier question. “I’ve been refining the recipe for the pain potion I developed for you. I’ve also been cleaning up all the messes your dreadful kitten makes.” And being tricked into playing with the dratted beast. Two nights ago it brought him one of its fuzzy toys and he threw it away from him four times before he realized the ‘idiot’ creature was using him as a playmate. Bloody Slytherin cat.
“I’m sorry,” Remus says. “I suppose it was too much of an imposition to ask you to care for him. I’ll arrange for Ginny to take him.”
“Oh, by now I’ve grown used to it,” Severus says with a long-suffering tone. “You might as well leave the thing where he is.”
Remus smiles. “Are you certain?”
Severus would miss that ridiculously loud purr in his ear while he sleeps; and he is certain that Remus knows this. “Quite certain.” He surveys Remus for a moment. “Smethwyk said you’ve been overexerting yourself.” Remus opens his mouth, but Severus continues, “He said you were here for two months without even trying to recover your strength.”
Remus looks down, his fingers pulling at the covers. After a long silence, he says, “I wasn’t certain if there was any point to trying.” There is another long silence. “I was tired, Severus.” His voice is resigned.
For a long while, Severus doesn’t respond. His heart begins pounding again as he thinks. Finally he swallows and asks, his voice low. “Does it mean so much to know that someone cares about you?”
He has said it, and it cannot now be unsaid. He wants to run away. He wants to pass it off as a cruel joke. He wants to Obliviate Remus. He wants Remus to answer him. He keeps his gaze on Remus’ hands, which is much safer than seeing a look of dawning pity on his face.
But one of the hands moves, and Severus cannot even think of drawing back. The hand curls around his jaw, gently guiding Severus to lift his head and look at him. Golden eyes meet his, and they are strangely bright and filled with wonder.
“Not someone, Severus.” He pauses. “You.”
And Severus decides there may yet be hope and happiness in the world. He leans close, watching Remus’ eyes go wide, then fall shut, and he lifts his own hand to cup the werewolf’s cheek, and then their mouths meet. Remus’ lips are hot and dry, slightly rough. He hasn’t shaved today. Severus feels a thrill run through him as Remus sighs softly and slides his fingers up into Severus’ ragged hair.
Remus’ lips part and Severus slides his tongue in, eager yet almost frightened. Remus’ mouth tastes of tea and medicine, and Severus remembers that he forgot to clean his teeth after lunch, and it’s been so long since he kissed someone that he is preoccupied with his nose not getting in the way. He explores Remus’ mouth with soft, slow motions, lifting his other hand to cradle Remus’ face. His heart feels as though it will push through his chest, and he feels an ache in his throat and a sting in his eyes and fiercely forbids himself to cry.
It is the most perfect moment in all of Severus’ life.