𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven: To Run

It was humiliating to let out such a high, needy mewl, but after a few nights with Snape, Remus realised he didn't care. The Potions Master was strangely talented with his mouth and had no issue with showing Remus this over and over again. Pressed with his shoulders and upper back against the bed with his lower body tilted up towards the ceiling, Remus shuddered with pleasure, feeling his manhood jerk against his stomach, as Snape probed him with his tongue. When Snape had started his descent down Remus' torso, he never thought he'd end up licking at the small pucker of his entrance. As Snape slipped in a finger beside his tongue, Remus threw his head back and clamped down with his legs, tightening his hold he had on Snape's shoulders.

Snape winced. Remus wasn't that far gone that he didn't notice it. No, he'd felt the way Snape tensed.

"S-stop," Remus said softly, realising he'd actually hurt the former professor. It took much coaxing to get Snape to stop as he insisted that nothing was wrong, but he finally gave in. "Let me have a look."

"It's a scratch…"

"They always say that."

"Who's 'they'?" Snape got out as Remus sat up and physically turned him around so he was sitting on the edge of the bed with his back towards the werewolf.

"The reluctant heroes."

Without seeing the other man's face, Remus just knew that Snape had rolled his eyes at him.

What Snape called a scratch, Remus deduced, was what others deemed a deep gash. "Severus, that's…" The wound stretched from the top of his left shoulder down to his mid-back, crossing over his spine. "That's not a scratch."

"It's healing."

"Not as well as you think it is." Remus moved around him and grabbed his clothes so he could get dressed.

"Lupin," Snape objected, reaching out to grab Remus' arm to stop him. "I'll be fine."

"I need to get you some dressings and salves and anything else that'll help."

Snape groaned and slipped onto the edge of the bed, sitting, and tugging on Remus' arm, forcing Remus to bend close to him so he could kiss him.

Instantly, Remus pulled away, despite the hand that Snape had slipped into his hair to keep him still. "You're not going to distract me. Get some pants on. I won't be gone for too long."

"Four of a kind," Malfoy smirked, putting his cards down. After Harry did the same, groaning at his mere two of a kind, his smirk transformed into a grin. "You do realise that seven and two is the worst poker combination ever, right?"

"How can you possibly know so much about a Muggle card game?"

"I'm adept at most forms of gambling. Slytherins get bored."

"At least we're not actually using money. I'd lose everything my parents left me." Harry knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment it left his mouth. "I meant…"

"I agree. I'd clean you out and actually have money of my own," Malfoy said, but the happiness he had held earlier was gone.

"I…"

Harry's words were cut off when Malfoy reached forward and ran his fingers over the back of Harry's hand. "It's fine. We both know that when I do get my kiss, it'll be with someone who's got a few vaults at Gringotts that's filled with gold. Malfoys know how to pick rich brides, after all." He retracted his hand and picked up the cards, shuffling them together. "Another round?"