#i'm going to take a scalding hot shower to wash the shame and ick away bye

[heartofspells]

I want Snupin. Post-prank aftermath. Rated E either for hot smut or for graphic gore or preferably for both.

Enjoy!!

You did this on purpose and I no longer like you as much as I did.

BUT. I did it my way, so ha! Enjoy your smut, you wretched woman.

It wasn't meant to be this way. As much as Remus had wanted to trust what Dumbledore said, believe all of James' pretty words about promised silence and kept secrets, he couldn't. He'd had to take matters into his own hands, because no one else could ever know. He'd fought too hard for all he had. He'd only meant to buy Snape's partial loyalty.

It had backfired on him.

Remus hadn't expected the supreme level of understanding that had risen from what had been essentially a business arrangement. Two souls battered beyond comprehension, but they'd both seen as much as they could. It wasn't love, nothing close or ever resembling it. It just was.

And for Remus, it was a way to get the smallest piece of what he'd wanted and would never have now.

Sirius had done this, Remus' friend, the one who had been the first to promise to keep Remus' most important secret held close, the one who'd started them down the path to the Animagus transformations in a bid to help, or so he'd claimed. Sirius, the boy Remus had watched flaunt around the school like a king, head held high always, nearly untouchable. He doesn't understand and he never will, no matter how hard he tries.

Sirius still saunters around the castle, unaffected, brushing the incident that had almost ruined Remus forever away like a meddlesome fly, just a thing, unimportant. And Remus is angry, but he can't show it, can't ever let it into the light. Except like this.

They meet in old classrooms never used for more than storage, sometimes in hidden passageways in the middle of the night. On a few rare occasions, they've even gone to the shack, the other's sallow face mocking as he stares around at the gouged floorboards and shredded walls, but Remus doesn't let it linger, pinning him down, hand around his throat, trailing down, sending robes off his body, fluttering to the obliterated boards below. His teeth claim in a way the wolf's hadn't had the chance, Remus still feeling it even now, after all this time, a feeling that never fades or eases, only becoming worse.

Snape is loud in a way Remus would have never expected, but still patronizing. Remus ignores it, blocks out the sounds and the words, always turning him over, never watching his face, only the line of his spine, the cascade of his dark hair, picturing something else, someone else as his fingers wind into it, tugging with force, bending his body, Remus' hips thrusting forward with hard intent. It's almost cathartic, pounding another into submission, imagining another dark head, a paler throat extending for the taking, and Remus takes, lets the beast inside him rage and turn feral in these hidden moments.

His hands stroke cruelly, ignoring the desperate pleas that fall from a mouth he doesn't want to see but needs all the same. It's a punishment, one that will never be enacted on the person that truly deserves it, so Remus releases his rage on a not entirely innocent bystander instead, molds himself to that back that presses into his chest, fills in words with a different voice and then snarls to silence it.

He returns to the common room, the dorm, the Great Hall every time, looks into that cocky, nearly smug face, and says nothing, only smiling in return as he plots his next round of justice in silence.