Experiments
"What on earth is it?"
Remus Lupin was seated at the workbench, in the small room Severus Snape had claimed as his own in the old Black mansion. It would have been quite a large room, actually, if Severus hadn't filled it with bookcases, books stolen from the downstairs library, potions specimens, and the enormous, burn-scarred workbench. It reminded him of novels he'd read as a boy -- it was, except for the ill-made bed in the corner, how he always pictured Sherlock Holmes' sitting-room would look. All it needed was V.R. picked out in bullet holes in one wall, he thought to himself...
And I guess that makes me Watson, for the moment.
The Potion Master's deft, thin fingers plucked the vial he'd been examining from his hand, and shook it. The cloudy purple liquid swirled.
"An experiment," he replied. "A new variation on the Wolfsbane potion."
Lupin raised his eyebrows, interestedly. "Yours?"
"Yes," Severus said, keenly.
"Can I ask why?"
"It was there to be done," Severus said with a shrug. Lupin cocked his head, and nodded. "And having a test-subject close to hand..."
"Which is your way of asking me if I'll try it," Lupin sighed.
"No. It's my way of saying you will," Severus replied.
"You've gotten to know me a bit too well," said Lupin, with a smile. Severus did not smile back.
"According to the research I've done, this should halt the transformation process entirely," he continued. "When taken in regular doses during the days of the full moon."
"Almost a cure," Lupin breathed. He held out his hand, and Severus placed the vial in it again. "Have you tried it at all yet?"
"I haven't had anyone to test on," Severus replied. "And I'm not ready to test it during the full moon yet."
"Then...?"
"I want to check for side-effects. That's a one-hour dose. Or should be," Severus corrected himself officiously. "Doses up to eight hours should be effective, but I've no guarantee yet."
"Shall I try it, then?" Lupin asked. Severus gave him an offhanded look.
"I thought perhaps you'd want to choose your time."
"I've nothing planned for this evening, if you don't."
"Do I ever?" Severus asked, with a trace of bitter humour.
The testing process was typically thorough. Severus took his pulse, checked his eyes, and asked what he'd eaten that day; only then was Lupin allowed to uncork the vial and swallow it. He'd considered asking what was in it, but decided he didn't want to know.
"Tastes better than the Wolfsbane potion," he said, once he'd swallowed.
"Oranges," Severus said shortly.
"I was going to say..."
Severus made a note on a slip of parchment tacked to the table. "Any mental or physical state changes?"
"It's barely down, Severus, do give a man a minute to digest."
Severus nodded, curtly, and did not stop watching him.
"If there aren't any, for the full hour, are we going to sit here and stare at each other?" Lupin asked.
"Do what you like," Snape replied. "My purpose is to watch you."
"And that's not at all offputting," Lupin said, under his breath. "All right if I read?"
Severus waved a hand at the bookshelves, and Lupin stood, examining the closest one. "I thought these were research books," he said, fingers sliding down the spine of a copy of MacBeth. "I'm surprised the Blacks even -- "
"That's my personal collection," Severus replied. "I brought them from Hogwarts."
"Seventeenth century," Lupin said quietly, with all the dignified love of books that the two scholars shared.
"Look up, and two books to your left."
"A first edition?" Lupin asked, taking the book down reverently. He glanced at Severus, expecting the usual wary disapproval he always felt when someone else touched his books. Severus' eyes were hooded, utterly blank. "I didn't know you read Steinbeck."
Severus gave another elegant shrug. "I do."
Lupin let his hand drift past East of Eden -- he could read that anytime, had his own copy, and didn't want to abuse a first-edition. An anthology of the Great Wizarding Plays would do as well.
It was unnerving, trying to read under Severus' continual, examining stare, but he settled himself into the wing-chair near the work-bench, and opened the book.
And then blinked.
He slid one finger down the page, experimentally, and caught his breath.
"Severus," he said quietly. "I think I'm starting to feel those side-effects."
Severus gave him an enquiring look. "Mental or physical?"
"Physical, I..." a wave of sensation washed over him. His clothes suddenly sat uneasily on his skin, as if the texture of the fibres had been increased, somehow.
"Yes?"
"Increased..." the weight of the book in his hands was too much, and he closed it, laying it aside. The movement of his shirt against his arm as he set the book down made him lose his train of thought. "Oh my," he said softly.
"Increased...?" Severus prompted. Remus looked up at him, and his collar brushed the side of his neck. He mastered a gasp, and swallowed.
"Increased skin sensitivity," he said. "Um. Excessively."
Oh dear, he thought, trying to sit as still as possible. Even the pressure of his shirt and waistcoat were beginning to bother him. Oh dear, oh dear...
***
Severus watched with a scientist's fascination as Lupin laid the book aside. A look of confusion crossed the man's face, and he had to prompt him to finish his answer to the question.
He noted the skin sensitivity on the parchment tacked to the table, and crossed his arms.
"Can you describe it?" he asked. Lupin looked up at him with unnaturally bright eyes.
"How detailed do you want?" he said hoarsely.
"How much do you want the next person who takes it to know?" Severus replied. Really, Lupin, do the math...
"I can feel the texture of my clothing much more clearly," Lupin said, slowly and methodically, as though he were trying to talk over something his body was telling him. "When I move, I can feel the pressure changes."
"Can you stand?"
Severus watched as Lupin put his hands on the arms of the chair, seemingly winced, and pushed himself up. One of his hands drifted to the workbench, supporting himself lightly.
"Balance?" Severus inquired.
"Seems fine," Lupin said hoarsely. "I...oh."
Severus lifted an eyebrow.
"Severus, this is really quite...overwhelming," Lupin said, standing perfectly still. "How long did you say it would last?"
"An hour, give or take."
"An hour of this..." Lupin's hand went to his collar, undoing the top button. He sighed with relief when the stiff fabric opened away from his neck.
"Is it painful?"
"Is that a question from the man or the scientist?" Lupin asked. He didn't wait for Severus to answer. "No. It is...the exact opposite of painful."
"Ah." Severus saw Lupin's significant look, and this time both eyebrows raised. "I see."
"What do you suppose..." Lupin stopped, suddenly. He'd reached up to rub the back of his head, and let out a small...well, Severus wasn't quite sure how to classify the sound he'd made. "It's...more intense now..." he managed. His eyes were wide, pupils hugely dilated.
"Any mental confusion?"
"I don't...know..."
Severus bit down an amused smile. "Minister of Magic?"
"Cornelius Fudge."
"Headmaster of Hogwarts?"
Lupin gave him a sarcastic look. "Colin Creevy."
"Temper, temper," Severus said to himself, making another note. He glanced at a sand-timer on the desk, which had almost run its course. "I need to take your pulse again."
"I really don't think -- " Lupin began. Snape had grasped his wrist, fingers on his pulse, and was staring at a pocketwatch in his other hand, counting under his breath. When he looked up again, after a minute. Lupin was staring at him unsteadily.
"Are you going to do that," he asked, roughly, "every five minutes, Severus?"
"Is that a problem?"
"Not for you..." Lupin said faintly. He tugged at the next button on his shirt, pushing his collar further away from his neck. Severus watched in mild fascination as shivers ran over the muscles of his chest.
"Do you mind if I...?" Lupin asked, fingers on the top button of his waistcoat. Severus shook his head, and the other man undid his waistcoat. Lupin moaned, softly, as it fell to the floor.
"This is no good, Severus, it's almost worse..." he said, shedding his shirt as well. Severus hadn't been expecting that, and he watched as the muscles along Lupin's arms shifted, when he pulled the sleeve off over his hand and tossed the shirt on the workbench.
"I hope that's all you're taking off," he said, but his heart wasn't in the sarcasm.
"Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?" Lupin asked.
"This is science, Lupin, not a peep show."
"Not from your perspective, anyhow."
For years Lupin had, Severus knew, worn clothes designed to make him blend in -- browns and greys, plain robes, shabby by necessity but unadorned by choice. Now he realised that it had also been designed to hide him physically. The man's ribs showed plainly under his skin, and he was whip thin, wiry muscles standing out on his shoulders and back. He wondered if anyone in the Order knew how obviously underfed the man was.
"Looking for scars?" Remus asked. He was standing as still as possible, head slightly bowed. He held out his arms. Pale lines criscrossed them. Severus could see the same patterns under his ribs.
"We heal quickly," Remus said. "But we still scar."
Severus took in the scars with a professional eye. He saw Remus' eyes dart to the sand-timer, which had run out again.
Severus took one of the outstretched arms, pressing his fingers to the inside of it. Remus drew a sharp breath. Severus concentrated on his pocketwatch, and not on the way the other man's pulse was humming under his fingers.
"Not unexpected," he said, snapping it shut. He bent to make a note --
Remus' fingers snapped around his wrist, so tight that a shock of pain went through him. He looked up, sharply, and saw that Remus was staring at him, breathing heavily.
"Every inch of skin," he said, hoarsely. "Every inch of skin on my /body/, Severus..."
Severus watched pleasures and desire flicker through Remus' eyes, and found that he had no comeback for that.
"What did you /do/ to me..." Remus asked, face tightly controlled. "Did you /know/ -- "
"Of course I didn't -- " Severus began, sharply. He got as far as "didn't" before Remus pulled him forward and slid one hand around his neck. He had a brief vision of dark brown eyes before Remus' lips pressed against his, hungrily.
He should have struggled, he reflected, as the other man's tongue slid against his lips. Definitely should have struggled...
Remus was right. He could taste the potion in his mouth. Citrus. Severus had a distracted moment of professional pride before Remus moaned and pulled him closer, and he felt his own hands slide along that slim, claw-scarred waist. Remus let out a breath that was closer to a whimper, and pressed his face to Severus' neck, lining kisses along his jaw.
A single thought broke through, and he pulled back. It wasn't easy; the werewolf was a lot stronger than he looked.
"Taking advantage," he gasped. Remus, panting, stepped forward, then closed his eyes and stopped. After a moment to gain self-control, he moved again. Severus could see him consciously ignoring the sensation of his remaining clothing on his skin.
"I think I know what I'm doing," Remus said, low and throaty. Severus took another step back. "You owe it to me to test a few theories..."
"Theories?" Severus asked, unable to keep a twinge of sardonic amusement out of his voice.
"What if the...sensations...lessen after they've been satisfied?" Remus asked. He moved forward again, hissing with pleasure, but his voice modulated to the teaching voice that all professors develop, after a while. "Does sexual climax negate these very interesting side effects? The werewolf community is demanding to know, Severus," he added, gripping the front of Severus' robe and pulling him close. "We're very vocal when we choose to be," he whispered.
Severus wondered if he hadn't picked up some of that sensitivity from the kiss. Remus ran his lips down Severus' neck, hand tangling in his long hair.
"I suppose that's a logical experiment," Severus muttered. Remus lifted his head to kiss him on the lips again.
"Touch me," Remus said, into his mouth. "Touch me everywhere."
Severus drew back, a little, a small smile quirking his lips.
"I have to take your pulse," he murmured, nuzzling his way down Remus' neck. Remus cried out as his lips pressed to the pulse in his throat, sucking gently. "Maybe I should take it here..." he added, hands touching Remus' wrists, thumbs rubbing the inside of them gently.
Then his arms shot out as Remus' knees buckled, and the brown-haired man fell against him. Remus laughed, and let himself be walked, slowly, the few steps to the bed. He lay back, eyes closing in pleasure as he wriggled slightly on the counterpane. Severus leaned over him, hands smoothing the hair away from his face. Remus opened his eyes.
"I think we ought to test magical ability," he said mischeviously. The small lines of buttons on Severus' robe and shirt began to undo themselves, and Remus pushed them off his shoulders as they came loose, fingers twining and rubbing against the soft fabric. He slid out of his own trousers, and closed his eyes again, rubbing his cheek against the pillow.
"Nothing wrong with your physiology," Severus said, straddling his waist as Remus' hips began to buck, involuntarily. He slid his hands down the smooth, scarred skin of his chest, and Remus growled. Actually growled.
"If you do that again the experiment's going to end early," he gasped. Severus smiled, and bent to kiss him.
"One of the most interesting experiments I've done in some time," he replied, sliding his hips against Remus'. The friction made the brown-haired man arch his back, fingers digging into Severus' arms.
"Smooth," he murmured, sliding his hands down to grip his forearms. "Feels good..."
Severus swore when Remus arched his back again and let out a high whine, his whole body clenching, silent for the orgasm itself. He bit his lip when Remus relaxed, again, and fought down his own need until the other man opened his eyes. He knew the question was on his face.
"Ever the scholar," Remus murmured. He slid one thigh against Severus, and whined again. "Still...I still feel..."
Then he smiled, wickedly, and sat up, pushing Severus backwards until their positions were reversed, Remus kneeling over him.
"Maybe we both have to be satisfied," he said, with a crooked grin. Severus grunted and tangled his long, slim fingers in that straight brown hair as Remus bent to kiss him, swirl his tongue and oh...that mouth...
Remus lifted his head briefly, and smiled, and nipped gently. Severus saw stars. Then warmth enveloped him again, spreading through his body from every point Remus touched him, and he forgot how to breathe.
When he finally remembered, about a thousand years later, Remus had crept back up his body, and was kissing him again, the taste of citrus still in his mouth.
Citrus and licorice. Severus let his head fall back for a minute, and then opened his eyes.
"I think I know what I did wrong," he said. Remus laughed.
"I don't think you did anything wrong, Severus..." he said. "It's starting to wear off, though -- "
He watched, leaning back, as Severus slid out of the bed and went to his workbench, digging through the papers there.
"Aniseed," he said, turning back. Remus gave him a long look, and he reached quickly for his robe, pulling it around his shoulders to at least preserve the illusion of modesty. "Aniseed and citrus."
"That easy?" Remus asked. Severus shook his head.
"It's complicated, but if I can find a substitute -- "
"Severus."
The dark-haired man looked up from the papers. "What?"
"You can't change that formula."
"You don't think spending three days permanently sexually aroused is worse than spending them as a wolf?" Severus asked, darkly.
"Rework the potion. That's fine. But keep that combination," Remus said. He rubbed his cheek, and Severus watched his eyes close in pleasure. "You, my dear Potions Master, have bottled sexuality."
Severus scowled.
"The most potent aphrodesiac I, and possibly the world in general, have ever seen," Remus continued. He lay on his back, covering his face with his hands. "You don't want to go throwing it out." He grinned through his fingers. "For one thing, you could make a fortune with it."
"I don't want my name on some tawdry -- "
"Oh, make up a name then." Remus wriggled his body against the blanket again, and sighed. "For another thing..."
Severus caught his breath as the other man turned to stare at him with eyes that were still wide with desire. "...I rather enjoy it."
Then he began to laugh, head dropping down, muscles rippling across his shoulderblades.
"Amused?" Severus asked, quietly.
"I was thinking we'll have to work out the doses for humans," he said. "And I was thinking we ought to start with you."
Severus raised an eyebrow.
"And then I thought, slip a little of this into the punch at the next Order meeting..." Remus went off into a roar of laughter at his own plan, and Severus shook his head.
"That's exactly the sort of thinking that got you into trouble at school," he warned.
"Me? No, I was the good boy," Remus said, watching Severus' deft fingers scrawl notes on the abandoned parchment. "I was the criminal mastermind. Never got caught."
"I'm not letting you near my potions."
"That's all right," Remus said, sliding off the bed. He walked to where Severus was standing, and leaned his chin on his shoulder. "Just let me near you once in a while. The rest'll take care of itself."