FIC: A Good Deal SS/RL

Hello - I've lurked for awhile, but finally have something new of my own to post for this pairing.

Title: A Good Deal
Author: Nikita
Pairing: SS/RL
Rating: Adult. Not for minors.
Warning: Slash. Prostitution. Using same opening for a story twice…I’m shameless.

Author’s Notes: This story and another version were originally intended as a present for Juxian Tang – Snape as a whore. This is a Snape/Lupin version for all those Snupin lovers that wanted Lupin to save Snape. The first part of this story is identical to the Snarry ‘Road to Hell’ up to the point, but swerves off to quite a different conclusion than the other one does.

This ended up being a bit more schmoopy than I meant it, but I felt sorry for poor Snape in the first version and Lupin wouldn’t allow me to end it sad.

Feedback: comment at my lj or email me at nik_cleo@hotmail.com
Website: www.koukla.net/nikita_slash
Livejournal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/nikita79x/



XxXxXxX


Pain's a bitch - and a nagging one, too. I lean against the filthy wall behind me and try to summon the strength to ignore it for a few more hours. Just a little bit longer...just long enough to pick up another trick or two and then I can go home and swallow an entire vial of my extra-strong painkilling potion. The one that'll leave me in a stupor for the rest of the night and fall asleep if I'm lucky.

Of course, I could have taken the potion before I left my room, but then I wouldn't be able to cast the glamour I need to pick up a trick, now would I? Damned shame that. Tried it once out of desperation and didn't make any money that night at all. Which of course meant I had to work extra long the next night. Can't let the coffers get too empty or there will be no food or roof over my head - and certainly no money for potions’ ingredients.

Water drips onto my head from above and I reluctantly straighten from my position and eye tonight's prospects from my shadowed point of view. Fairly quiet at the moment - never a good sign. The few cloaked figures walking past keep their shoulders hunched and eyes averted as they hurry along their way. I decide to move along, too - towards another one of my haunts closer to the intersection of Knockturn and Diagon alleys. Another figure catches my eye as I pass by - a witch heavily made up in makeup and hair. She tosses her head back and swirls her long skirts enticingly until she recognizes me as a fellow whore and quickly drops her act and her smile as she glares me out of her territory.

If I weren't so preoccupied with keeping my pain at bay I'd teach her a thing or two about death glares. But I've no time or will to care at the moment and step past her and towards my destination as quickly as possible.

There, this position is more likely to pan out. A busier pathway and far more customers in the nearby shops leaving with their packages. I prefer my other post for the shadows and privacy, but tonight I must be more visible if I'm to get lucky.

A wizard passes by without a glance, then another passes slower - his eyes dart over my body and glances at my face, but he hurries on, seemingly nervous and unsure. I don't toss my hair and I never smile - I'm not Gilderoy, for Merlin's sake. But I do cast a smoldering look at each potential client - a look I've perfected over hours in front of the mirror - and with the glamour I know that it is persuasive.

Another figure passes, a witch, or rather a hag - she has a predatory look on her face as she gives me a long look over. I shudder to think of having to touch her - she sports several large hairy moles on her face and a jagged scar twists the left side of her face into a grimace. She steps closer to have another look and I have to force myself not to take a step back. Not my preferred sex - even if she were a beautiful witch. She sneers at me - sensing my repugnance. "How much?" she asks in a loud cackling voice.

"Ten Galleons an hour." It's more than I usually charge. I might as well make it worth my while if she takes me up on it, but I'm mostly hoping she won't.

"Ten?!" she cackles and saliva sprays my face as she chortles over the sum, "Think highly of yourself, don't you young man? I'd make you work hard for those galleons, boy!" She steps closer still and I'm ready to shove her away from me when I hear a voice behind her.

"I think he's well worth ten - and I'll offer twelve, if he'll take it."

The voice is familiar, which should fill me with dread, but at the moment I'm too happy to escape the clawed hands scrabbling towards my robes. "Deal! Get off me," I tell the hag. She glowers at me and spins around to look at my other customer.

"You're paying far too much, if you ask me!" She spins away and disappears around a corner without another word.

I sigh in relief and hear an answering chuckle.

“Yes, she was pretty bad, wasn’t she?” the man beside me says ruefully.

Oh. Dear. Merlin.

I stare in shock at the face hidden partially in shadows and discover that – yes, indeed – I have just been agreed to have sex with a shabby werewolf wearing a faded robe open over a brown cardigan and slacks. My evening is complete.

But as I stare at him and watch his good-natured smile turn into a look of concern – I realize he hasn’t a clue who I am. Perhaps I can escape.

“Yes, she was…excuse me.” I edge away from him, trying to push past him without touching him.

“Wait a second!” he exclaims and his hand catches my shoulder gently, but firmly. “I thought we made a deal?” He doesn’t sound angry, only perplexed – but his hand isn’t budging from my shoulder and I freeze.

“Deal’s off.” I try to push past him. He might have let me go on my way without another word, but something crosses his face that changes everything. Recognition. He leans closer and sniffs audibly – obviously catching a scent.

“Snape?” he asks, incredulously. His eyes widen and he looks me up and down – trying to see through the glamour.

Angry at his werewolf nose, I shove his hand away from my shoulder and back up. Unfortunately I do not have far to go and back into the wall. “Deal’s off, I said.”

He stares at me with his mouth slightly open. “I – I didn’t realize…”

“Obviously,” I snap. “Let me pass.” I wait for him to move, but he shakes his head.

“No, wait…we should talk…”

I glare at him and wish desperately I didn’t know that werewolves are a lot stronger than they look in human form. “Bugger off.” I think of my wand, but I don’t want to pull it – I don’t need the attention it would attract.

“Severus -” he starts to argue, his voice louder and bringing at least one look from a nearby shopkeeper leaning outside his doorway.

“Shut up!” I hiss.

He smirks at that, “Then let us go somewhere quieter to talk.”

A passerby glances at us a little too long and I gesture for Lupin to move towards the path that leads to my room. He gestures chivalrously for me to lead the way. I stalk past him and walk quickly, my long strides taking me through the pathways and around the twists and turns with great speed and dexterity, hoping half-heartedly that he will get lost behind me. No such luck as he stays on my heels the entire way there – I can almost feel his breath on my neck.

I lead him upstairs to my room above Adyna and Argel’s Apothecary and wait until he’s in the room before locking the door, pulling out my wand and warding the door against eavesdroppers or intruders. I turn then, still holding my wand in a white-knuckled grip, to glare at him silently.

He’s looking around my room as if it is an interesting specimen – his eyes take in my small bed neatly made, my trunk beneath it, and the lack of other furniture or belongings in the otherwise stark bedroom. My bathroom door is closed, but there isn’t much to look at there, either – the toilet is broken and the shower is tiny, but serviceable. I’ve been here four months and it doesn’t look any homier than when I first arrived. But then, this isn’t my home – it is where I do what I must to survive.

“Well?” I finally say to break the silence.

He looks at me with embarrassment at his obvious intrusion in my privacy. “Yes?”

I cross my arms, wand still at the ready, but less obviously threatening him. “You wanted to talk. Talk.”

“Is that what we came here to do?” he asks.

I glare at him and seriously consider hexing him right now. “You couldn’t afford me.”

He grins and pulls out a small pouch from within his robes, opening it to reveal several galleons within. I’m tempted once more to use my wand. I can blank his memory and dump his body somewhere in the alleys with none the wiser…but my curiosity is beginning to get the best of me.

“And just how is it that a werewolf has that much money to splurge on whores? Finally given in to your baser nature, Lupin?”

He doesn’t anger at that – just as he always seems to retain his composure and humor at my taunts – a fact that has always infuriated me. Instead, he smiles. “Meaning have I turned Dark, Severus? Or simply turned to crime and petty thievery? Or sold myself in some dark back alley?” His smile fades then as he realizes he’s gone too far. “My apologies…I came by the money honestly, if that’s what you are worried about. I have a job.”

I grind my teeth and decide to ignore his earlier comment. “A job? Doing what?”

“Well, several jobs, actually. Might I sit down? It’s a long story,” he adds.

I’d rather make him stand – or better yet, toss him out the door. But my back aches and my knees are wobbly…I need to sit down before I fall down. I reluctantly transfigure two chairs out of the bed and trunk and sit opposite of him. He smiles gratefully and I realize I’d forgotten that about him – how easily he smiles. His face is lined and his hair full of gray. The typical signs of the wear and tear of a werewolf’s drain on a human body, and yet, his demeanor is as polite and kind as it always was… I’m amazed that he can still be so bloody cheerful.

“…I’m sure you are aware of how the Ministry has cracked down on so called ‘Dark Elements of Society’ these past few years…” he begins.

Aware? Quite aware – you would think that the Ministry would have learned its lesson in the past wars with Voldemort that isolating certain ‘undesirable’ elements of Wizarding society could make them susceptible to anyone wanting to overthrow the current government.

On the other hand, I suppose the Ministry did learn its lesson…rather than support those vulnerable citizens, however, the Ministry is striving to starve them out. Vampires, werewolves, hags…and anyone else ever associated with the Dark…have been regulated and placed under restrictions like never before. Everyone’s background is subject to scrutiny these days. My own failing is not my former Death Eater status – Dumbledore secured my pardon long before. No…my failing is in my ancestry – my great, great, great grandfather had an unfortunate habit of drinking the blood of virgins. Doesn’t matter that my own blood holds no trace of vampirism.

It is impossible to employ a Restricted Citizen in any type of job in which they or anything they produce comes into contact with regular Wizarding society. Meaning they – we – are unemployable. Oh, the Ministry entitles us to a yearly stipend to support us…but you cannot feed a rat upon what they give us. It’s almost enough to make me wish I’d stayed on Voldemort’s side.

Lupin sees my grim expression and nods sympathetically, “It’s been hard on all of us… Which is why I, and several other fellow ‘Dark Elements’ decided we must help each other. We’ve formed our own community.”

“Community?” I ask with one brow raised.

“A town of a sorts…for those of us who wish to live and work together in peace. Mostly werewolves, though there are a few others who have chosen to live among us.”

I try not to picture what the town must look like on the full moon and stifle the urge to shudder. Still…I suppose it must be comforting for Lupin to be amongst so many of his kind. Acceptance and camaraderie has always been important to him. “And what is it that you do?”

“I teach, most of the time. I’m one of the very few who have a full Wizarding education. I’m teaching several promising adults and a few of their children the basics in charms and defense. I also double as the librarian, a mediator, and anything else that is needed in a pinch. We’re very self-reliant.”

“And the Ministry tolerates this? You know that the last thing they want any of us to do is be productive.”

Remus loses his genial expression for once and his eyes narrow, “We don’t care much for what the Ministry does or doesn’t want us to do…we stay out of their way and they stay out of ours.”

I’m startled at the venom in his voice suddenly peaking through. So, perhaps the great Remus Lupin isn’t immune to the misery and despair that permeates the Wizarding world at large these days. “That still doesn’t explain the galleons, Lupin. A small community would not have so much hard currency.”

Lupin smiles again and his face loses its harsh lines as easily as they appeared. I find myself oddly titillated by the change; anger does not suit his face.

“Ah, well…not all of our citizens do their business within our community. We do a little trading. Outside Britain, there are far fewer restrictions. There are other Wizarding communities that have not totally succumbed to the paranoia that seems rampant here, but this isn’t really what I came to talk to you about.” Lupin’s eyes wander as he speaks. They roam over my face and take in my clothes and then travel back to my eyes once more. It’s a look of appraisal. And I’ve become so attuned to judging others’ arousal that I’m quite aware that what he approves of what he sees.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “I see.”

“Do you?” he asks with an even wider smile – this one can only be characterized as wolfish, a cliché, but nonetheless a true one.

And I do…it has occurred to me sometime in the past few moments that the full moon is tomorrow night.

Lupin leans forward in his chair. I remain silent, watching him. The scene is suddenly familiar to me. A younger Lupin caught alone in a castle hallway after classes – I had expected a duel, but was startled when the other boy simply leaned closer to me with that predatory look on his face. We’d ended up in the nearest empty classroom. Fumbling fingers and excited gasps and moans. I was a fool then…actually hoped it was the start of something more. The next day had been the full moon and my ‘unfortunate incident’ at the Weeping Willow.

“I’ve always regretted how it turned out last time,” he says softly and I wonder if he’s improved his Legilimency. Or perhaps I’ve simply lost my ability to hide my thoughts finally.

Damn him…I feel something break within myself – a piece of ice that once resided around my heart. It shouldn’t matter to me what he regrets. This is a pathetic excuse for an apology and no apology should ever be enough. And yet…it was a long time ago, a small voice within me protests.

Perhaps there is some truth to the saying that time heals all wounds. Or perhaps it is just desperation and loneliness. I’m tired of this life I’ve made for myself and damned weary of holding my grudges close to me as if they are my only companions. Whatever the reason, I find myself shrugging off his words.

“It would never have worked out between us, anyway. Your friends would have seen to that. They did.”

Remus doesn’t argue, simply nods. “But they are not here anymore. And I’ve grown a great deal since then.” I can see in the candlelight that his pupils are dilated and his breathing is barely controlled.

“Have you?” I chuckle darkly and watch as he smiles a rather wicked grin, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

He must’ve been rather desperate to come out searching for a whore tonight. I haven’t seen him this close to losing control since our sixth year. Lack of Wolfsbane potion will do that to a werewolf. I wonder vaguely where he plans to keep himself tomorrow night. And all of those other werewolves he socializes with these days. But the thought is distant and doesn’t concern me very much for some reason. I’m far more interested in his eyes – the abnormally large pupils ringed with a rather intense green. The eyes of the wolf.

He takes my silence as consent, apparently, and reaches out one long fingered hand to touch my cheek. His fingers are warm and rough – calloused in a way they weren’t when we were younger. He leans even closer and suddenly we are kissing. Long, deep…not frantic and hurried like I would have expected. I’m surprised at the longing I feel and my arms come up to grip his shoulders with unexpected force.

Remus finally breaks the kiss, much to my regret, and we try to catch our breath, never breaking eye contact. “I…I didn’t expect…” he trails off, at a loss for words.

“Yes,” I say simply.

We are both shocked at the depth that is unresolved between us, but I’m not interested in staring at each other for the rest of the night. All of a sudden I am only interested in one thing. Something I haven’t actually been interested in longer than I care to remember. I reach out and grab his hand, pulling him up to his feet without a word as I reach for my wand. His eyes widen for a second, but I ignore him and aim my wand at his chair, quickly transforming it back into my bed.

We both tumble onto it with all the rush and excitement that we once felt thirty years ago. We leave all regrets behind and focus instead on the present.

Life is simply too fucking short.

XXX

I wake up with a groan, unfortunately not the kind I uttered last night under Lupin’s talented fingers.

My constant companion is back again. I hadn’t needed my potion last night - I had been thoroughly distracted and fell asleep in a sticky, sated heap without a thought in the world.

I shouldn’t be surprised this morning, though. I’m not living in a fairytale and my pain will not go miraculously away after being shagged senseless for one night. It was good…no, better than good. But, like it or not, I’m definitely paying for our energetic tumble in the sheets. My entire body aches with a pain that is bone deep. I open my eyes and try to summon the energy to get up.

My groan must have woken Lupin up as the snores abruptly stop next to me and he turns onto his side, facing me with a sleepy grin. “Mm, are you okay, Severus?” his voice is husky and playful. One hand is already slithering under the sheets toward me. He then blinks and looks closer at me – all playfulness abandoned. “Are you okay?” he asks again.

I’ve been gritting my teeth since I woke up and I don’t dare unclench them to try and lie. I hate this. Hate showing my weakness. Hate the pity that will soon come to his eyes.

“Severus…” his voice is a bit louder now. Concerned. He sits up, the sheet slipping down to pool in his lap unheeded, and he leans over me, eyes darting over me as he tries to figure out what is wrong. He pulls off the sheet covering me and his hands are lightly tracing my body with far more care than they did last night. “What’s wrong?”

I close my eyes and fight not to let my voice betray me too much. The tremors are coming. “Under my bed. Small chest. Hurry.” I bite out.

He reacts instantly, jumping off the bed with suddenness that makes the bed jolt and I hiss in pain between clenched teeth. He mutters an apology and searches under my bed.

My left arm is first, the trembling quickly turns into a violent shaking – the rest of my body joins it quickly. I’m vaguely aware that I’ll find this mortifying later, but for now all I can focus on is ending the pain. Hurry, Lupin. Damn it, HURRY.

He’s at my side suddenly, a vial in his hand. He puts a hand gently under my head and brings the vial to my lips. He doesn’t let a drop spill, despite my violent convulsions. He patiently tilts the vial at intervals until it is empty and the potion gradually spreads through my body and the fit eases. I’m drowsy as the potion hits my system, but I force my eyes to stay open. I want another vial, but I dare not take another dose with him here. I can feel the shame reemerging.

His face is impassive, but I know that he is simply trying to spare me more humiliation. It is useless. Nothing can be more humiliating than what he just witnessed. I close my eyes, but remain aware of him at my side. The occasional twitch of my muscles is annoying, but bearable.

“Is it always that bad?” Remus finally asks me after we’ve pretended I’m sleeping for several moments.

I keep my eyes closed. “No,” I lie.

He goes back to watching me silently. I wish he’d leave. I don’t want him to go. I keep my eyes firmly shut.

He sighs finally and climbs back into the bed carefully, so as not to jolt me. I feel his arm lightly rest on me, tentatively asking for permission to stay. I lift a shaking hand up to grip his arm and keep it there. I fall asleep sometime after that.

When I awake once more I am relieved to find the pain far more controllable. I am weak and shaky, but able to sit up in bed. A bed that is empty except for me. A glance at the floor next to me confirms my suspicion – Lupin’s clothes are gone.

Well, what else could I expect? That was an abysmal display that he was forced to witness earlier. Anyone else would likely have fled before I’d even fallen asleep. And anyway, Lupin got what he had come for last night, didn’t he? No reason to stay. I suppose I’ll find the galleons on my dresser when I get up. He’s an honest werewolf; I’ll give him that.

I lay my head back on the headboard and close my eyes again. I’ll have to get up soon and go down to buy the ingredients for my potion soon, before the apothecary closes. Argel Ainsworth puts up with me as a tenant, but he’ll be damned if he’ll do business with me after hours.

There are footsteps on the stairs outside my room and I immediately tense, my hand searching for my wand. I curse at myself when I realize I left it somewhere across the room in my frenzy to get into bed last night. Fool!

The door opens and Lupin peeks in. “Just me,” he assures me and enters the rest of the way with a large sack in his hands.

I stare at him with what I am sure is a perfect look of shocked horror.

He ignores my look as he sets the sack on the bed and begins pulling things out of it. A large container, a spoon, a few apples and two brown paper-wrapped sandwiches that smell strongly of ham and Swiss cheese. “I brought you some soup and some food for both of us. I didn’t find anything edible in your apartment. Hungry?” He holds out the container and spoon to me.

I stare at it without touching it.

“Or perhaps I should feed you?” he suggests.

I take the damn container and open it carefully. Chicken soup. My, my – I am an invalid, aren’t I? My hands are a little shaky, but I manage to take the spoon as well and even manage a few sips. It annoys me all the more that it feels good going down. I decide to focus on eating. Lupin, meanwhile, sits down next to me on the bed and helps himself to an apple and sandwich.

Of course it was too much to hope for that Lupin would be silent throughout the meal. Instead, he spoke of his community and how they were getting along so well now. It’s obvious that Lupin is feeling a great deal of pride and satisfaction with his work. And he should be proud…he’s accomplished something. Foiled the Ministry’s plans to kill him off along with ‘his kind’.

The most important thing I notice about the monologue, however, is that it’s a deliberate effort to avoid the subject of my illness. I suppose it isn’t all that surprising that he hasn’t asked any questions yet. After all, the long-term effects of excessive exposure to the cruciatus curse are well known. I am not even all that badly off – I’ve still got my mind at least. Some days I’m not all that sure it is a blessing, though.

“I have a proposition to make to you,” he finally says.

I raise an eyebrow coolly at that. “I thought we covered that last night. Feeling frisky again?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “A business proposition. One that would be mutually beneficial.”

“Well? Spit it out already.”

“How would you like a job? Other than the one you have now, that is.”

“I do not need your pity, Lupin,” I warn him darkly.

“It’s hardly pity, Severus. You’re well aware that tonight is the full moon – I, and several others, will be locked up in our cellars tonight. It’s too late to do anything for this month, but I would like to employ you as the potions master for the community. If we supply you with all of the ingredients, would you be willing to produce it for us each month? You’ll be well paid for your efforts. Perhaps you could train an apprentice or two to assist you.”

I continue to glare at him, but the truth is it’s the best offer I’ve had in years. Even better than the one Albus made me decades ago when I first left the Death Eaters. I hated teaching, but an apprentice might be tolerable. Damn it all…I’m going to have to accept. The very idea of owing Lupin for this will vex me the rest of my days, I’m sure.

Still…I cannot help dreaming of my own potions’ lab once more. Money for my ingredients, galleons jingling in my coin purse…it’s almost too good to be true.

“I’ll think about it,” I finally say in as even a voice as possible.

Lupin nods graciously – as if he expected me to need time to think on the offer. He knows he owns me already – the wanker. I finally decide I can’t take his insufferable air any longer and pull him back into bed beside me.

“We’ll need to negotiate the terms of my contract,” I whisper into his ear.

He shudders, “Of course.” His voice is strained and I know his hearing and other senses are heightened as the moon draws near. I brush my fingers across his face and trail down his neck, leaning down to bite him on the neck, careful not to break the skin, but hard enough to bruise. He groans and clutches my arms tightly.

I smile – I might belong to him, but he just as surely belongs to me.

XXX

End


Footnote: Adyna and Argel are Welsh names meaning ‘wretched’ and ‘refuge’ respectively.