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Fic: "What Heaven We're In" (Snape/Lupin, NC-17) for Merry Smutmas
The merry_smutmas reveals have been posted. Anyone from my flist who braved the boring summary I wrote and all the kink warnings and actually read this where it was posted on Insane Journal probably guessed it was mine, even though I tried to disguise my characteristic style with longer sentences, and even though many of these are new kinks to me. Well, except for the feet. In any case, I'm reposting this here--in part because, in spite of the incredible work of my wonderful beta readers, I found some minor errors after it went up.

Title: What Heaven We're In
Author/artist: schemingreader
Recipient's name: scribbulus_ink
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Snape/Lupin
Word Count: a little under 10,000 words
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling created the characters and plot holes that made this story possible. "Begin the Beguine" is a song by Cole Porter.
Summary: Remus Lupin survived the war and is living in Key West, where he decides to indulge in his passion for drag queens. Guess who is a drag queen?
Warnings (if any): consensual bondage play, cross-dressing, rimming, mention of mpreg.
Author's/artist's notes (if any): The original request is here -- I tried to have most, but not all, of the kinks in the story. She wanted a slow-building romance, and I did that, but I'm afraid the sex starts immediately.
I LOVE my beta-readers! accio_arse,busaikko, rexluscus, stasia, and my BDSM specialist beta-reader xochiquetzl

What Heaven We're In

oh yes let them begin the beguine
make them play
til the stars that were there before
return above you
till you whisper to me
once more darling I love you
and we suddenly know what heaven we're in
when they begin
the beguine

--"Begin the Beguine," Cole Porter, 1935.

Ankle straps.

The person in front of him was wearing possibly the sexiest outfit he had ever seen on anyone. Through gaps between the buttons of the silky fabric of a green skirt, Remus could see the stockinged thighs, up to the black, lacy suspenders. (Here in the US they called them garters. Garters--an old-fashioned word, but he liked it.) The stockings themselves had a faint sheen that enhanced the perfectly smooth, slender, muscular legs they encased.

On his feet, this startling creature wore the most outrageous shoes, silvery high heels, with an opening at the toes where the polished toes of a man's pedicured foot showed through his no, her stockings-- and ankle straps.

On a girl they would be fuck-me shoes, tipping the pelvis forward suggestively. A man's arse would be pushed the wrong way, unless of course you knocked him onto his back, say on that billiards table, and held the stockinged ankles in your hand as you pushed right into his ready, lubed-up arse--

Remus was hard before he even got a look at his--no, her, she'll want you to say her--face. It was the calves. They were men's calves, but they were bare and graceful and he wanted to rut against them.

He had not yet looked above the waist, to see what awaited him there. He lifted his head and looked up into dark, kohl-lined, sarcastic eyes.

Wait.

"Severus, I thought you were dead," Remus said. He'd bought Snape a Black Russian, a horrible sweet drink with vodka in it, and was watching as Snape rattled the ice cubes, turning the glass on the cocktail napkin.

"You thought wrong, Lupin, what's so shocking in that? It's hardly the first time."

His voice was still deep and dark as smoke. They sat on the bar terrace and looked out at the little yachts, their masts strung with lights that reflected off the surface of the water. Snape was right. It wasn't the first time someone he'd thought was dead turned out to be alive, or someone he thought was guilty had been innocent.

Remus took another sip of whiskey. It did not remind him of home. He'd never had whiskey this good at home. He could taste the wood of the cask where it had matured, could smell the peat bogs.

"I never thought I'd see you here, either." Snape admitted. "I thought you were married and dead both, Lupin." Snape's voice was somehow neutral and mocking at the same time.

"This is, indeed, what most people think." Remus inhaled. Snape had a flower in his hair, which was put up after the fashion of a 1940s pin-up girl, with a great glossy black sausage curl in the front. He smelled of some old perfume. Remus couldn't tell if it was the perfume or the scotch that made his head feel disconnected, floating.

"But instead you've taken a bit of a holiday in the Florida Keys."

"And you? Have you only come on holiday, or do you live here now?"

Remus reached out to examine Snape's french-manicured hand. Snape allowed him to look for a moment, until Remus swiped his thumb along the back of Snape's hand. Snape snatched his hand back, his eyes snapping.

"That is none of your business."

Remus pulled his hand back slowly, and picked up his drink. He sipped, not looking away from Snape's dark eyes. "Not very easy, making small talk with you, Severus. I suppose being a double agent does that to a person."

Snape made a movement with one shoulder that was something like a shrug. He did not smile, no, but his rouged lips pursed briefly. "That's all over for us, Lupin."

The sound of that "us" thrilled through Remus like a song.

Except that even now, Remus could never be free of it. He could never stop deceiving people and be merely honest. He sighed.

"I know what you did for us, Severus," he said to his glass. "How you must have suffered."

"Your sympathy is touching, Lupin, but let us put those unfortunate times behind us." His voice, that supple instrument, was somewhere between a sneer and a purr. "I have had my revenge on all who deserved it, and found it a bitter disappointment after twenty years. My best friend is still dead, and the blameless yet unlikeable child for whom she sacrificed herself is alive and knows I saved him. He has become nearly as good as she hoped for him. It is no compensation for her loss, even now."

"Were you in love with her?" Remus asked.

"That is also none of your business."

They sat quietly, watching the water and drinking. Behind them, in the bar, a small jazz combo had set up and was playing the songs of their grandparents' generation. Remus listened.

"Would you care to dance?" Snape murmured. They both stood up, and after the fashion he had learned in dancing school the summer between first and second year at Hogwarts, Remus offered Snape his arm.

The band played "Begin the Beguine." In a moment of pleasure he could never have imagined, Remus held Snape close to him. He was mesmerized by it all: the spicy perfume behind Snape's ear, the heavy sweetness of the gardenia in his hair, the faintest note of masculine sweat underneath, the whiskey in Remus' blood, his blood itself surging, the sound of the waves on the shore, and the feeling of Snape's moving waist under his hand. He could feel the beginning of the swell of his buttock where the heel of his hand rested.

Snape danced closer, graceful as always, even in these awkward shoes. Through the fabric of the dress, Remus could feel a brassiere. There was no hook in the back, though he felt along the silk, feeling the two smooth surfaces whisper against each other.

He thought it must unhook in front, where Snape's flat chest pressed against his. If they made love, would Remus unhook it first, or would he first push the strap over the apple of Snape's deltoid muscle, and down his shoulder there? He corrected himself with a mental shake. Not make love--he could never make love to anyone--it was too much of a risk. If he finally got to fuck Snape, how would he unwrap him?

"I'm afraid I must be leaving here shortly," Snape said low into his ear. He hadn't tucked his cock under, and Remus could feel it hard and warm through the silk dress, through the women's underwear, against his own desperate erection.

"I could walk you home."

"Perhaps that is a bit--premature," Snape said. "But I would be glad for you to escort me some of the way."

Remus paid their tab at the bar. Snape's eyes smouldered under his mascaraed lashes, his high, arching brows. Remus slid his arm through Snape's, and they walked out of the bar, into the night. Snape led him by the hand, a little way down the street, until it turned into an alley.

"Come here," he said roughly, and Snape pulled him close and kissed him. He pushed Snape back against a brick wall, pressing into his body. Remus grabbed the fabric of the skirt, bunching it in his hand, and pulled it up. With his other hand, he felt the bare buttock--Snape was wearing a thong--and the garters where they bisected the thigh. He was wearing so many straps and thin restraining barriers, like the baroque patterns of Japanese rope bondage. Remus ran his finger under the thong where it split those enticing buttocks, knowing that it was pushing the fabric of the lingerie against Snape's straining cock. Snape groaned into Remus' mouth.

Remus took one of his hands and ran it over Snape's jaw and his bottom lip, still red with lipstick. Snape's tongue protruded, licked his fingers, drew them in. He sucked them, his eyes on Remus'. His pupils were dilated, Remus thought, with arousal, or to adjust to the darkness of the alleyway. His irises were like the dark of the moon. The wet suction around his fingers made his cock throb, but Remus took his hand from Severus' mouth and began to run it over his crack, teasing the dark fulcrum of his body.

Snape must have performed a non-verbal lubrication spell, because suddenly Remus' fingers were sliding in easily and everything was wet.

"I want to fuck you, Severus. Do you want that?"

He took a gasping breath. "Yes."

Remus pulled his hand free. "Turn around," he said. Snape put his hands on the wall, bracing himself, and thrust his arse out, feet splayed wide on the silvery spike heels. Remus pushed his skirt back up and looked.

"For fuck's sake, Lupin," Snape whispered. Remus stroked down the curved arse, to the stocking tops, and then back up. He gave the arse cheek an experimental slap, and Snape groaned again, a desperate, aroused sound. Then Remus spread Snape's buttocks wide, pulling the thong to the side. He positioned his cock at its dark target, and began to push in slowly. He caressed Snape's cock and balls through the silk of his underwear.

He had to push the thin elastic of the thong aside again, and it broke. He reached around Snape, and began to stroke his cock as he pushed into the heat of Snape's body. Snape pushed back against him, grabbing him, trying to manoeuvre him into place, and then they had it. He pounded into Snape, slamming into his hips, a tight grip on his thrusting prick. Snape was crying out.

Remus pushed into him one last time, so that he was sheathed tight, buried to his balls, and felt the tremors of Snape's orgasm. "Severus," he said, and came.

He collapsed over the other man's back where he stood, propped against the wall.

"You are so--beautiful," Remus said, kissing his neck as they straightened.

"Don't."

"Sorry?"

Snape's mouth was a grim line, and he shook his head.

They arranged their clothing, and he kissed Snape once more, and then Snape turned away from him, and walked off alone down the empty street in his absurd shoes. Remus stood watching him. He'd satisfied decades of lust and yet craved more. It would be a problem if Snape weren't so cold. No danger of emotional entanglement here. Snape must have had his own reasons to want to have Remus.

Remus shrugged to himself as he made his way back to the wharf where his boat was docked. He switched on his torch and sprang from the pier to the deck. It was a fine night, and not worth going below to his cabin. He spread a sleeping bag on the deck and lay on top of it, his hands folded behind his head.

His life had been ruled by a long nightmare since he was six years old. To sleep at night, he had to be physically tired. Tonight, he was--he smiled with the pure physical satisfaction of a good fuck as the musical slap of the ocean against the ship's hull lulled him to sleep.

Remus next saw Severus Snape on the beach, where Remus was waiting to meet his next fare. He usually met them at the concession stand on Rest Beach, and took them to the pier where he tied up during the day. He was sitting at a picnic table, sipping bad American tea from a paper cup, when Snape came upon him.

Snape was in men's clothing. Remus realized he'd never seen Snape in Muggle clothes. His drag outfit of the other night somehow didn't count--too magical, Remus supposed. He walked along the beach in deck shoes, khaki trousers and a short-sleeved cotton check shirt. His hair was tied with a black band. He was with a group of business types.

When he saw Remus, he scowled.

"Hello, Severus," Remus said diffidently.

"Oh, Dr. Smith, it's one of your countrymen!" One of the Americans with Severus, a southerner to Remus' ear, nudged him with his elbow.

"Hello, Lupin," Severus said, his expression sulky.

"How do y'all know each other?" The persistent man had a blond crew cut and a lot of white, even teeth.

"Old school chums," Snape said as though it hurt him.

"Well, fancy you all meetin' here in the Keys!" Blondie replied. "I'm Harry Roanoke, by the way, but you can call me Hal." He shook Remus' hand. "Didja know he'd be here, huh?"

"No," Snape said.

"Good to see you again, Severus," Remus said.

Snape favoured him with a look of deepest loathing. It was precisely like being back at school, and he was hard-pressed not to laugh because he finally saw that it wasn't real.

"Don't twinkle at me, Lupin," Snape said under his breath.

"Sorry," Remus said, and now he was smiling. "What are you working on, Severus old chum."

"Didn't Dr. Smith tell you? Why, he's a regular wizard!"

Snape shook his head minutely to warn Remus. "A wizard at what?" Remus asked politely.

"I'm working as an Environmental Consultant on beach reclamation."

"Of course." Remus nodded.

"He's been a tremendous help to the county in making decisions about the beaches and erosion. And what do you do, Mr. Lupin?" Roanoke asked.

"Tourist industry," Remus said. "I take people fishing on a yawl."

"Ah, now that's the life," Roanoke replied, giving the last word an extra syllable.

Remus smiled. Snape looked annoyed. Why did that make him want to smile more?

"You'll have to go out on your friend's yacht," he told Severus. The rest of their group, Florida-style bureaucrats Remus surmised, began to congregate at another picnic table. "Oh, I'd better get the coffee. Cream and sugar, Dr. Smith?"

"Yes, thank you." He glared at Remus, daring him to laugh.

Remus stood up and leaned casually against the table. "I'd love to have you out on the boat," he said.

"Oh you would, would you?" Snape was half-flirtatious, half angry. Remus was half hard. "What do you know about sailing?"

"What do you know about beach reclamation?"

"What do you know about--knots?" Snape looked appraisingly at Remus' cut-off shorts.

"Quite a bit actually. You kinky bastard." He watched Snape suppress a laugh. He didn't think he'd ever seen that before. He handed Snape a business card. "I live on the boat, but you'll have to reserve a time. I'm not always available."

It took a moment before Snape seemed to understand what he meant. "The moon," he whispered. "Where do you go?"

Remus gestured toward the ocean.

Snape glowered at him. "You're crazy," he said.

"Do you want to see the boat?"

"I don't think so, Lupin. I've already--sampled--what you have to offer." His face closed.

Remus controlled himself. "Ah well, easy come, easy go, Severus." He swallowed. It didn't pay to get too attached to Snape, who had plenty of reasons to despise him. He could hardly complain of being used. He was the one who should be putting the other man off, not trying to invite further intimacy.

He was disappointed, but he didn't analyze that feeling. It was just--hadn't they been flirting? It had to be the werewolf thing, again.

The moon waxed and waned on the same schedule every month, and being out on the ocean with the tides meant he should have been even more aware of it. It was only the pull of his own body that reminded him--the increased frequency of his erections. Being a werewolf was demanding, and his enhanced libido had never been an advantage, what with his fear of getting too close to someone and harming them.

Out on the ocean, there was no one to observe him if he wanked outside, in the nude. He had a dildo that he used sometimes, imagining that a man with a very large cock was fucking him. He rarely got to bottom with a partner because the wolf didn't allow it. Someday, maybe, if there were trust and connection, the wolf would let him get fucked. Perhaps if he ordered the other man to do it--forced him, somehow, to fuck Remus. He imagined that instead of a silicone substitute, he was taking in a real cock. The head was touching his prostate--the other man shuddered beneath him, begged him. Oh yes, that was it. He stroked himself harder--Severus--his face would be open, trusting, dark eyes heavy-lidded--

Remus came. He left the dildo in for another minute, and then, mocking himself for his sentimentality, pulled it out slowly.

He lay panting on the deck. The moon would rise soon, and at the full. He would be helpless in its power--but there was no one for him to bite. He wouldn't keep his mind, but he couldn't harm anyone else.

What if the maddened beast flung itself off the boat? Then he would drown, he supposed. In the wide ocean of the world, he was alone. Everyone who had ever cared for him was either dead or thought that he was dead.

Naked beneath the sky, wet with his own semen and his own tears, he waited for the approaching moon.

The second day after the moon, Remus had to return to town to replenish his first-aid kit and his stocks of food. Before the stores opened, he bicycled round to several of the beaches where he had most of his business, posting flyers soliciting tourists. He was on Rest Beach at dawn, stapling flyers and business cards to the bulletin boards, when he saw a lanky figure coming toward him.

"Lupin," Snape said abruptly. He was wearing men's clothing, of course. His expression was uncharacteristically bland.

"I'm sorry, Severus," he said, "I can't--"

Snape seized his wrist. An involuntary growl boiled up from the place in Remus where the wolf hid. He turned, snarling, on Snape, who backed away, hands raised, but still looking him in the eye.

On the empty beach, with the sun coming up, Remus let the wolf dictate. He grabbed Snape and kissed him, biting at his lower lip. Then he regained control, and pushed himself away.

"Go away, Severus," he panted, "I can't play this game with you. It's too risky."

Snape wiped his lip. It was not bleeding, thank heavens. "I find," he said, "that I am willing to take the risk."

"Why?"

"I've cheated death and freed myself of all obligations. Why should I fear my own desires?"

Remus' pulse thudded away; it was as good as a declaration. They stood at an impasse. Remus wanted him so badly that he did not care if he was lying. "Fine," he said. "Forgive me if I find it somewhat difficult to trust you, on anything."

"Who said we had to trust each other?"

Remus felt sick to his stomach. "What do you want?" He inhaled the scent of the ocean. There was nothing to worry about, nothing. He could stand here and breathe, and he would breathe whether Snape hated him or loved--or didn't hate him.

"I want to buy you a drink."

That he could handle. "The Monkey Bar again?" Snape nodded slowly. Hope, absurd and irrepressible, bubbled up in Remus.

They were going on a date. It was the most backward idea he'd ever heard--to know someone's intimate secrets, hear him eulogized, then to shag him, and then, finally, to date. He shrugged to himself as Snape walked away.

He'd have to shave.

He walked away humming "Begin the Beguine."

Snape was wearing another dress, this one turquoise blue. His shoes were red, with cut out toes and ankle straps. He had a red flower in his hair and his lipstick was a shiny, deep crimson. The turquoise eyeshadow and heavy eyeliner and Snape's large nose and masculine cheekbones made Remus think of Cleopatra.

They danced and drank, and it was like something from the movies. They had cocktails, and then a bottle of wine with dinner, which neither ate much of, and then an after dinner drink. They didn't talk about anything, and Snape didn't insult him. They just danced and drank, danced and drank, until Remus thought he was too drunk to dance anymore. He fairly flopped back into his chair, nearly upsetting the candle in its green glass jar on the little bar table.

"You know, Harry told everyone about you and Lily," Remus said. It was out of the blue and he thought perhaps ill-advised, but Snape also seemed astonishingly drunk. "It was in the Prophet. I had no idea."

"Our love was very pure," Snape explained, enunciating carefully.

"Oh," Remus said. "I think I understand."

"Yes. She was everything I could not have--stability, home--everything good and unsullied." He took another drink. "But had I won her, so she would have remained--"

"Unsullied."

Snape tilted his head. "You know."

"Of course I know--I married Nymphadora Tonks, didn't I?" He drank again. "I married her and claimed her child, though it seemed to me a mistake even at the time, that a child who wasn't even mine should bear the stigma of what I am. Her mother knew he wasn't mine. She hated the whole thing."

They sat in silence and the waves plashed on the shore below the terrace.

Remus continued. "I came to after the battle for Hogwarts, lying beside her body on a table, and I knew..."

"Your mother-in-law would have kept the boy from you."

Remus' eyes were full of tears. "It was a mistake to marry her, I knew, that, but I liked her--"

Snape put a warm hand over his. "I know."

"I just wanted--" he looked into Snape's fathomless dark irises.

"I know, Lupin," he said softly. Remus composed himself.

"So I transfigured a large log from the fireplace to look like my corpse and I left it next to her--body--in the hours before dawn. Why no one thought to watch the dead in that magical place, I don't know--"

"Lucky for you."

"Yes, lucky. But my son--that sweet baby--I know he was never really mine--"

"He didn't know that."

Then Remus put his head down on his arm and wept. "Oh, Teddy, Teddy," he said. He felt alone, and drunk, and in a strange place.

When Remus finally looked up, Snape was still there, looking horrified and awkward.

"Mostly I'm all right, it's just sometimes--I can't bear it." He swallowed. Snape nodded. It was enough that he'd stayed, Remus thought. Nearly enough. He stood, queasy but upright.

"You're coming home with me," Snape announced.

"Oh I am, am I?"

"Drunken boating accidents are a cliché, and I won't be party to one."

"How imperious you are when you're drunk. God save our gracious queen."

"Lupin."

"I can handle myself. Or you can handle me." He leered uncertainly.

"Yes I can."

"Yes, you can, Severus."

Snape stood up; Remus pulled him close, his arm around Snape's waist. He nuzzled Snape's long neck, noting where the snake had bit him. He smelled good. Snape paid their tab, and Remus staggered out into the night.

Snape pulled out a wand--from where, his stocking? Remus couldn't see. He loved the way Snape wielded a wand. Snape draped an arm around Remus so that they were embracing each other, and then he Apparated.

"You can Apparate drunk without splinching."

"I can Apparate while nearly bleeding to death from snakebite, Lupin," Snape said. He switch on the electric lights with his wand.

"Swank digs you have here, Severus." Remus staggered to an overstuffed sofa in the corner of the large, bright kitchen. This was a strange, American fashion, a sofa and television off the kitchen. There was a skylight over the sofa, but the sky was still completely dark through the blinds over the light.

"It came furnished. Budge up," Snape said softly. He sat next to him. Remus lay his head in Snape's lap.

"I shouldn't have gone out drinking so soon after the moon," Remus said. "You smell like home to me."

"Lavender."

"No, it's you--like you're--you're just right." With his head in Severus' lap, he couldn't hear more of his reply than a pleasant rumble.

Remus awoke alone on Snape's little sofa in the kitchen. Snape was making coffee. It was quite an operation, and Remus lay there, watching him. He was wearing a dressing gown, his feet were bare, and his hair was damp--just a man, not a butterfly, this morning. He still moved with the same unerring grace that he'd had in their shared Potions lab when they were at school together. It was a long-forgotten pleasure, just to watch him concentrate. Snape measured the beans, and ground them in a hand-grinder that he set to its task with magic. He put the grounds into a fancy coffee pot and boiled it on the stove. In another pot he was heating milk.

"Awake?" he said, his back still to Remus.

"Yes, sorry, good morning." Remus sat up and stretched.

"Do you need a hangover potion?"

"No, thank you. Is there enough coffee there for me as well?"

Snape snorted. "Only if you stop apologizing for your own existence." Remus stood up and Snape gestured toward the bathroom. "There's a towel for you in there."

It was good to have a long hot shower in the morning--a luxury for him, really. He was used to quick cold ones from living on the boat. He put his clothes back on and came back to the kitchen. Snape gestured to him to sit at the kitchen table.

Snape set toast and eggs in front of him and Remus thanked him. "I have marmalade," Snape said, handing Remus the jar.

"This is my favourite, thank you," he said.

"I know," Snape said, "we sat at breakfast together for a year." He said it as though anyone would know which flavour of jam his teaching colleagues liked best, and wasn't Remus an imbecile not to have realized that.

The coffee was very good and strong. Remus was too tired and too embarrassed to make conversation. Finally, when Snape was only poking at his muesli and yoghurt, he stood up. "Thank you for a lovely evening," he said. "I ought to be getting back to the boat."

"Lupin," Snape said, rising. "I can make you the Wolfsbane."

"That's very kind, but you don't have to--"

"Oh, do be quiet," Snape said, and kissed him. His tongue was wet and hot and heavenly. Remus' cock jumped to attention. "Goodbye," Snape said.

Remus turned and walked toward the door. "I'd splinch myself if I tried to Apparate now," he muttered, and as he closed the door he could hear Snape laughing.

Remus walked down to the beach. Once he had cleared his head, he'd go home.

When would that be? He tried to physically shake the confusion out.

Had he fallen for Severus Snape? Why hadn't he seen the possibility of such a complication? Their old attraction to each other, his grief over Snape's apparent murder of Dumbledore, his redoubled grief when he realized that Snape was dead, and what he'd really done, how he had suffered--Remus had been obsessed with imagining that suffering. Then there was the animal desire of the wolf inside him for Snape's body--anyone who knew him could have seen this coming.

If there were anyone who knew him, anyone with whom he'd shared a secret, who had survived.

What could Snape feel for him in return? He seemed to want to bind Remus to him. Remus couldn't feel confident that Snape even liked him. Perhaps this was another very complicated revenge.

Or maybe Snape just didn't know how to show his feelings.

Or maybe he was going to get Remus in a vulnerable state and use Sectumsempra on him.

Remus kicked the sand. It wasn't bad enough to be a gay werewolf. He had to fall for a cross-dressing former Death Eater. He hoped that if Snape planned to kill him, he would at least kiss him one more time.

It was another week and a half before Snape rang him on his cell phone.

"Lupin."

"Severus?"

"Does your offer to take me out on your boat still stand?"

"Naturally."

"I don't want to interfere with your--livelihood."

"I'm my own master." What an unfortunate word choice that was. He smacked his forehead; inaudibly, he hoped. "Would you like to come this afternoon?"

"I'm afraid I have another engagement," Snape said smoothly. "Is tomorrow all right?"

All right? He did a little mambo around the deck, even though he was moored in the marina and people could probably see. "Yes," he said with false calm. He'd get something good for them to eat. For several meals, in case--no. Yes. "Yes," he said again.

"I'll meet you at Rest Beach again, in the morning."

"Yes." Had he ever felt this way about anyone? He didn't think so. A lifetime of cottaging and one-night stands hadn't prepared him. Kissing girls until they were aroused and he was bored hadn't prepared him. Even knowing Snape for all these years, even noticing what was good about him when everyone else thought he was Dark, hadn't prepared him for this.

But he was Dark. He was a dark, mysterious queen.

"Lupin," he said.

Remus babbled something polite, and Snape rang off.

Snape met him at the pier by Rest Beach. He was lying on a towel, wearing shorts. His legs were completely hairless. Remus stared at them. Snape smirked.

"Do you shave your legs?" Remus blurted it out.

Snape shook his head. "Hot wax, or sugar and lemon--or a depilatory charm, but the sugar is less itchy. I'm naturally quite hairy."

For some reason, Remus found the idea that Snape used sugar and lemon on his legs almost unbearably sexy. The idea of the masculine, hairy leg, transformed and polished by something sweet--it made him want to lick the smooth skin, from the ankle to the thigh.

He was afraid he might have whimpered, but Snape just looked up at him with a typical sneer. "Shall we?" he said in his soft and dangerous voice. Remus took his hand to help him up, but Snape dropped it as they walked to the pier. He leapt from the pier to the deck lightly, as though he'd been doing it his whole life.

What do you think, the man can fly without a broom, Remus thought. What can't he do?

He could feel Snape's eyes on him as he cast off. The wind took them slowly out of the harbour and he tacked into the wind. Another really beautiful day, with the crazily blue sky kissing the surface of the Bay of Biscayne.

"You don't use magic," Severus said.

"Not for this part," Remus explained. "Sometimes, if I'm alone, I increase my reach so I can adjust more than one line." They sailed in relative silence, though of course it was never really silent. The ropes creaked and the sails flapped, and the ocean sang against the hull. Remus shut his eyes in enjoyment.

"What about," Snape paused, "when you transform? How do you keep afloat?"

Remus looked into his face. Snape's brows were drawn together. "It's not very easy to sink a craft of this size. I weigh anchor and wait out the night on deck. I'm not endangering anyone, Severus--you don't have to worry about it."

Snape frowned. "You misunderstand me."

"You have plenty of reason to be concerned. You've seen me transform twice now. I've only seen one werewolf, and that was Greyback, when I was a little boy."

"What do you mean? I thought you were with the werewolves during the second war, trying to convert them to our -- to Dumbledore's side."

Remus smiled. "Yes, but werewolves only see each other transformed when we are werewolves too, you know, so we can't have that rational, human fear of the monster."

Snape nodded. "Yes, very interesting, but how do you keep yourself from falling off the boat?"

"The wolf seems to know he can't swim, because I haven't found myself in the water yet. Would you like something to drink? It's very hot out here, you can become dehydrated. Come below decks, I'll show you my cabin. It's good to get out of the sun a bit--do you have a hat?"

He cast a spell on the tiller to keep them on course so that he could take Snape below. There were actually three cabins on the vessel including the galley. He grabbed two bottles of fruit juice, all sweaty with droplets of condensation, and ushered Snape into his cabin.

"This is surprisingly large," Snape commented. He came around the bed to where Remus was standing, to take one of the bottles. Their hands brushed.

"May I--may I kiss you now, Severus?"

Snape nodded. Remus' heart pounded. He was completely sober, so he couldn't pretend it was being drunk that made him want to do this, as he had a little the other times.

They stood kissing for a minute--not embracing, each had a hand on the other's forearm. It kept him from falling on Snape and devouring him. His mouth was cool and delicious in the shaft of sunlight warming the cabin.

Remus broke the kiss, trying not to pant audibly.

"Shouldn't we be on deck to sail her?" Snape said.

Remus smiled. "Yes, it's quite beautiful on a day like today." He Summoned a tube of suntan lotion. "We can sunbathe. I'll bet your skin goes a lovely dark colour."

Severus Snape blushed. Remus had never seen anything like it. His nose went all red and the tops of his high cheekbones did as well. It wasn't that he was so handsome--he'd never be that--but that Remus could see the tentative shy boy he'd been, all the vulnerability that his myriad studied graces covered. He touched Snape's face with his free hand and nearly declared himself. "Severus, I..."

Snape looked into his eyes and almost imperceptibly, flinched. "Let's go on deck," he said.

They sailed out to Ramrod Key, Remus at the tiller, Snape with his face to the wind and his black hair blowing back. It took about an hour and a half. The sun was bright and the weather fine, not too warm. Remus brought them into a cove he liked and dropped anchor. "We're out far enough that we can swim nude without being seen," Remus explained, "but if you want to be sure we can cast a notice-me-not spell. It's safer not to, of course."

"Of course." Snape looked uncomfortable.

"Do you swim?" Remus asked.

"Not well," Snape admitted, "and I don't like being naked in public."

"Oh," Remus said. "Sorry," he said. Of course that was his fault, that Snape felt uncomfortable; it was because of something that he had done, or failed to do, when they were teenagers. If only he'd stopped James--well, if he'd stopped James then, many things would have been different.

"But as you say," Snape said, taking a deep breath, "this is private." With an expression like someone about to face a firing squad, he pulled his polo shirt over his head.

Remus followed suit, taking off his faded blue t-shirt and his cut-offs. He wasn't wearing pants underneath, and that was it. His own body was tanned from previous exposures, and his body hair had bleached in the sun. He didn't think much about his body most of the time, except to enjoy the feeling of freedom of the sun on him.

Snape wasn't naked under his shorts, which were held up with a belt. He disrobed slowly. He had removed all his body hair except a little around his nipples and his luxuriant, black pubic hair which Remus was not going to look at closely because he didn't want to be too obvious. Snape's skin was pale and sallow, though he had the ghost of a tan line where he'd sunned himself in shorts and a vest, sometime in the past year.

"Can I help you put on the sunscreen? I don't want you to get a burn the first time out."

He moved closer to Snape, rubbing the lotion on his hands. Snape stilled, waiting while Remus moved toward him slowly. He rubbed the cream into Snape's clavicle and chest, stroking down his arms.

Wind blew in the palms on the shore of the key. It made a whispering sound. Remus was massaging cream into Snape's skin, and they were both aroused, but not speaking. Snape's erection was utterly magnificent.

"I wasn't thinking about how being naked together would be different from being naked alone," Remus admitted. He spread a towel on the deck, and Snape lay on his stomach and let Remus rub the lotion into his shoulders, his back and then, into his arse and upper thighs. He sat, hard and wanting, on Snape's arse, and rubbed the lotion into his long right foot, his slender, hairless ankle, his muscular calf. When he got to the inside of the left knee, he bent and licked it. Then he turned and knelt on the towel, and licked up the back of Snape's legs from his calves to his arse. The sun lotion tasted of coconut and Snape tasted of heaven.

Snape's wand flew through the air, and he caught it. He cast a cleansing spell on himself.

Remus smirked. He spread Snape's buttocks, and began to lick between them, listening to Snape's harsh breathing, the small whines of arousal.

He bit the high muscle of Snape's buttock. He licked the dimples above his arse, and then down the crack between his cheeks, to the puckered flesh that relaxed under his tongue. Snape's groans of pleasure, his hiccuping sighs like sobs, all came to him slightly muffled by the roaring in his own ears. Snape humped the towel, shoving his arse back into Remus' face.

"Please, Lupin, please," he said from far off. "Please fuck me now, please."

He tested the hole with his fingers, and it was relaxed. He slicked his cock with the suntan lotion and began to press in. Snape knelt to give him easier access.

"Can I tell you how beautiful you are, now?"

"No," Snape said breathlessly, "Just fuck me."

He pushed in all the way. Snape let his body be pressed into the deck. They undulated together, his balls hitting Snape's thighs, his thighs against the swell of his arse. It was all heat: the sun on his back, the tight hot muscle of Snape's body as he grabbed Remus and released him, and the feeling building in him. He came with a cry.

Afterward, Snape shook like he was cold. Remus held him a long time until the tremors stopped, but Snape refused to say anything. They lay together in the hot sunlight, the waves moving them gently, and dozed in each other's arms.

After a bit, Remus roused himself and went below. He had chicken salad sandwiches and cold beer, and little key lime tarts, in the galley fridge. Snape squeezed lime into his beer. They'd both grown to like the cold thin beer in this part of the world. Remus conjured tea to drink with the tarts.

Sailing back took the rest of the afternoon. They were quiet together, except when Snape asked questions about sailing.

He walked Snape back to the beach. They didn't touch, because it was public, and because Snape didn't touch him without intent. When they got to a sufficiently secluded place, Snape Apparated away. Remus stayed on the beach, watching the sun go down. The sky went all gold, with silhouettes of the palm trees hanging over the shining water, layers of blue sky and cloud above slowly fading to darkness. He never tired of it, the beauty of the place, the sound of the ocean--his freedom to sit in the sand and watch it.

If he let himself, he would want someone else with him. If he let himself, he would want Snape sitting with him, just sitting--maybe leaning against him, warm and right.

He sat on the beach a long time, letting himself feel the gradual chill in the air, before he went back to the boat to sleep.

When Remus saw him next at the Monkey Bar, Snape was with another man. They'd agreed to meet there, and some man was chatting him up at the bar. Another man had his hand on Snape's arm, was playing with the black lace of his sleeve.

The dress this time was black satin with sleeves that fluttered, and he was wearing the red shoes, jet beaded earrings that sparkled along his neck, and red lipstick that washed all the colour from his face.

Or perhaps it was the sound of the involuntary growl Remus was making that made Severus blanch. His mascara-heavy eyelashes flew up like a doll's, but the look in his dark eyes was human and briefly terrified.

"Excuse me," he said, his low baritone carrying to Remus' sensitive ear, "I believe I see a friend of mine."

He approached, black skirts swirling. He had a red flower in his hair. Remus noticed it all, though his vision felt suffused with blood, his head pounding with blood. He grasped Snape by the arm, and pulled him out into the night. Snape stumbled after him, until Remus pushed him against the wall where they had first fucked.

"You--you can't do that," Remus choked.

"What?" Snape looked bewildered.

"Let some other man touch you that way."

"Why? He just touched my sleeve. I wasn't interested in him--anyway we have no agreement."

"I know, but--" Remus growled again, helpless to stop himself. He leaned in to say it low in Severus' ear, to say, "It's the wolf inside me, I can't help it, I'm sorry." He leaned in to apologize, privately, politely, to explain, to make amends, but what came out was, "You're mine." Then without planning to do it, he nipped Severus' neck with his teeth.

"God," Snape said, his voice low and vibrating. He threw his head back, exposing his neck, and Remus licked it.

"When you said you were willing to take a risk for me, did you understand what it was?"

"No, but--"

"This is the risk," Remus said, and he bit Snape's earlobe. "That if I begin to care for you, the wolf will claim you."

"For that, I would risk anything." Tears stood in Snape's eyes, and the light reflected and magnified their dark dark brown, so that he felt he might fall into them.

"Your mascara will run," Remus said. He wiped the tear from the long lashes with his thumb. "Do you mean that?"

"Remus," Snape said. "Remus."

Remus knew that it was difficult for Snape to walk down the road holding hands, even on the high street in Key West where demonstrably, no-one cared. Dressing in full drag in high heeled shoes and going out in public, that was no problem. Fucking in an alleyway with only a notice-me-not charm, he could handle. It was hand-holding that made Snape sweat.

Still he did it. His face was grim and his palms were damp and Remus could smell fear on him. They walked that way for several blocks before Snape found an out of the way place to Apparate them back to his kitchen.

"I'll never understand you, Severus," he said.

"I am fully aware of my own inadequacies."

"What?" This time it was Remus' turn to be bewildered. "Your inadequacies? Yours? I'm the one who--the one who--I can't control myself. I didn't want the wolf engaged. I don't want to be bound to someone by this curse."

They kissed again, tongues touching. "Oh, Severus," he sighed.

"What must I do to keep you?" Snape asked.

"You want to keep me?"

"I've always wanted," Snape looked wary, "you. It was why I followed you around at school."

"It is?" Remus stepped back. "But I thought you hated me, or at least disliked me intensely, or were repelled once you knew what I was."

"All of that was true as well."

"I think-- I think you're a more complex person than I am."

"So your feelings for me have always been entirely unambiguous."

Remus laughed. "No, mainly guilt and vague lust."

"Why did you feel guilty?" Snape's eyes were intense.

Remus didn't say anything. He looked at the floor. "From when we were at school. My friends bullied you and I didn't try to stop them, even though I knew it was wrong. You became a Death Eater and I was sure it was my fault for not stopping James from--"

"Grant me the dignity of my own choices, Lupin."

"And because of--because--I never apologized to you, Severus. That you saw me in the tunnel. I just tried to pretend it hadn't happened. I know that made it harder for you to let it go."

"Pretending is something you do all the time."

This was it. Snape would never believe Remus loved him, because he was so dishonest. Remus sat heavily on the floor, and put his head in his hands. "I hate it that I've lied so much," he said.

Snape snorted. He put his hand on Remus' arm. "You had to hide. I can accept that; I've had to do that."

"But you aren't hiding now. You're wearing a dress."

"Oh, is that what this is?"

Remus played with the fabric of the skirt. "I don't even know why you are wearing this."

"Because I like it. Because you like it. Because I've got away and I can do whatever I bloody well want."

"You see?" Remus said. "That's it. That's it. That is why you are so bloody sexy."

"What is, the dress? I don't look good in a dress. I look like a man in drag." Snape was scornful, incredulous, and hopeful, all at once.

"Yes, you do, and that's what I like about it."

"That is an entirely predatory smile." Snape leaned forward and kissed him.

"You have me. If you want to keep me, then keep me."

"Because of the dress?"

"Because of the man in the dress. Or out of it." They kissed again. "But I would like you to stay in it."

"You would, would you?"

"Oh yes."

They walked upstairs holding hands. This time it was Remus whose heart pounded with excitement.

"Your bed," he said, when he saw it.

"I like to have sex in a bed, now and again," Snape said. Remus laughed.

"Would you mind playing more games with me, or do you want to just..." Remus trailed off, looking at Snape's amazing legs.

"What kind of games?"

Remus sat on the bed. "One problem with being a werewolf is the way the wolf reacts when I'm in bed. It thinks I'm in a dominance contest."

"Does it want to," Severus traced the line of Remus' clavicle with a polished fingernail, "dominate, or be dominated?"

Remus sighed. "It wants to dominate, and I don't always want that."

"I do, however." Snape looked straight at him.

Remus thought his pulse must be audible. He swallowed. "May I tie you to the bed?"

"Please."

"What would you like as a safe word?"

Snape smirked.

"You have heard of safe words before, Severus?" Remus was suddenly alarmed. Maybe Snape had done this without one?

"Tie me up, sailor." Snape batted his eyelashes. How did he do things sarcastically? "The safe word can be 'mascara.'"

Remus stood. "Lie down," he said, and growled. Damn. "No, on your back, and don't take off your shoes."

Remus pulled the shoelaces from his trainers and transfigured them into silken ropes. Snape opened his mouth, and then shut it. Remus tied his wrists to the headboard, wrapping the rope multiple times to ensure that Snape wouldn't lose circulation in his wrists.

"Don't speak until I tell you," Remus said. Snape bared his throat, and Remus felt the growl coming from his gut. He bit the exposed flesh, not drawing blood, but only because he stopped himself.

"No, I want to look at your feet," he said, and moved to the foot of the bed. He put Snape's sandals against his chest, and sniffed the leather. Then he licked the toes where they poked through the shoes, and the straps that bound them to his feet. His ankles were bony and his Achilles tendon pronounced. Snape was breathing heavily as Remus licked up the ankle to his calf, through the stockings.

"Lemon and sugar," he said. He licked the inner thighs, running his tongue over the seam of each stocking where it ended, just in that sensitive place. He nuzzled the tight bulge where Snape's legs met, smelling him. He breathed on the hard cock, packed into the skimpy women's underwear.

He pushed the pouch of the underwear out of the way, so that Snape's cock and balls sprang free.

"You make my mouth water, you are so magnificent," he said. Snape seemed about to contradict him, and he let himself growl again. "You're mine." The word ended in a near bark. God he was excited, so excited. He began licking and sucking everything, wildly and indiscriminately, with no technique: he put his mouth on Snape's arse, his balls, the shaft of his cock, the head. He took Snape's beautiful prick into his throat, and sucked, listening to the groaning.

Reluctantly, he released Snape's cock, stood, and began to take off his clothing quickly. He rubbed his body against the fabric of Snape's dress, the stockings. Those stockings! They squeaked as they rubbed together, as he pushed Snape's legs together to see his cock framed by the stocking tops, as he pushed them apart again. He humped one of Snape's sandal-clad feet, his cock sliding against the ankle strap.

He had a wand with him, and he used it to direct magic to his own arse, to stretch himself quickly and put lubricant there. It wasn't the best way, but he had to do this. "Lie back," he told Snape. He positioned himself so that he was kneeling over Snape's cock, grabbed it, and started to sit down on it.

Snape looked worried. If he said the safeword, Remus would have to stop. He could feel that the wolf was bewildered but he kept going until he felt full, so full.

"You're inside me," he said softly. "How does it feel?"

"Tight, and hot," Snape opened his eyes and looked up. "You had to tie me up to do this. Ah!"

"Is it..." he came down all the way, feeling it graze his prostate, "good?"

He rode up and down, feeling his muscles working against hard flesh. The slide of Snape's cock was delicious; he could feel the heat between his buttocks with each stroke. Remus' bent knees pushed up the stiff shiny black taffeta of the skirt of Snape's dress with each thrust downward.

"Good," Snape said thickly.

"Severus," Remus said, "I'm going to come. Talk to me."

Snape, flushed, cleared his throat. "Remus," he said. He put so much desire and affection into his name that Remus came, shaking, his cock spurting outrageously all over the black taffeta.

Coming down from the orgasm took him a moment. He realized that he didn't know whether Snape had come, but when he carefully pulled Snape's penis out and went to get a flannel to wipe them off, he was full of semen. He untied Snape's wrists, checking to make sure he hadn't injured him. Snape seemed slightly stunned--relaxed and calm in a way that he wasn't usually.

Remus curled around Snape in the bed, naked, his arms and legs causing the taffeta to crinkle. "Hope it's all right for you to leave this on," he said, but he was so sleepy that he didn't hear the answer.

At some point in the night, Snape got up and washed his face and took off his dress, because in the morning, he wasn't wearing it. Remus woke at dawn and found that Snape was holding him, and that he was wearing a white t-shirt and boxer shorts.

His skin had darkened in the sun since they'd been together, and in the pink dawn light his black hair, black eyebrows and long eyelashes looked impossibly beautiful in contrast with the white of his clothing and the dark blue of the sheets.

What if it were only because of being a werewolf? What if it was only the wolf that felt easy and secure with Severus Snape, only the wolf that was pushing him to love this man from his past?

Did that make this sense of peace and being at home any less real?

Snape opened his eyes. "Remus," he said. Remus kissed him. "I know what I can do to keep you."

Remus frowned. "You don't have to do anything."

"I'll tell you after breakfast."

They showered--Snape did not want to shower with Remus, which was disappointing--and dressed, and Snape had food on the table by the time Remus was ready.

"Listen, Severus, you don't have to do anything for me to want you."

Snape was humming to himself as he mixed the muesli into his yoghurt. He looked up.

Remus took a breath. "It isn't anything werewolf-related, is it? Not some horrible biting thing, or--"

"No." He shook his head. "I know you are unhappy that your lycanthropy has overdetermined this relationship."

Remus smiled. "Well put." He relaxed and ate a few bites, and then had another thought, and put his fork down. "You aren't planning to kill me so that you can keep me, are you?"

Snape's carefully shaped brows came together low over his eyes. "Lupin. I let you tie me up last night."

"I know," Remus sighed, smiling. "I was joking. Mostly." Snape looked thunder at him. "Last night is why I don't understand what else you could think might make me want to stay with you."

"All right," Snape said. He cast a warming charm on Remus' eggs and toast. "Come with me. We can discuss it and finish breakfast afterward."

Snape's house had what amounted to a library. Built-in bookshelves lined two walls of the room, floor to ceiling, and they were nearly full. There were a lot of books: environmental science, obscure works on magic, a tremendous collection of US history.

Remus started to laugh. "You think I'm more likely to stay with you if you show me your library? Lily must have told you about my reputation in Gryffindor Tower!"

"Oh please, Lupin, everyone knew about how you were about books, but I would hardly try to hold on to you with a library this small."

Remus really laughed, then. "You don't have to do anything, Severus."

Snape's eyebrows were still drawn down. "Take a look at this text."

He handed Remus a book of spells. "In order for a man to bear a child," Remus read, "he must make the following potion." He sobered quickly. "Severus, I can't do this."

"Not you, you imbecile. Me."

Remus put his hand on Snape's. "Is this something you really want to do? To have children?" He said it as gently as he could.

Snape's lower lip protruded. "I want you to have what you want."

"Do you like children? You never seemed to."

Snape seemed to fold in on himself.

"Would you rather be female than male?"

"No. I want to do something for you, so you--"

"I don't want you to have a baby for me. I don't need you to do that, unless that's something you really want, and knowing you, I don't think you do. You can't replace people--they aren't interchangeable. Not even babies."

"I'm not afraid of a little physical risk."

"Listen," Remus said. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. A little physical risk, what an understatement. "I've never had the wolf come out to claim its mate before. You're the only person I've fallen in love with enough for that to happen. I've loved other people, and I've had sex with other people, but no one else has made this curse turn into any kind of blessing. So if you want to have a baby with me, I'll do that, but I think it's a bit mad--"

"All right. I don't need to do it. I just wanted to do it for you."

"All right?" Remus put his arms around Snape and kissed his eyebrows.

"I didn't give you a potion, you know. No Amortencia or anything like that."

"I know, those don't work on me."

"I know. I looked it up."

"You did?"

"In seventh year."

"You are complex," Remus said. Snape looked grim. "Which is probably the reason I'm in love with you."

Snape nodded and bit his lip.

Remus decided to spell it out. "I want to stay with you. I love you."

Snape swallowed. "All right," he said.

The problem was, he only saw Snape in pieces, never the whole Severus. His wicked intelligence, his long-boned feet in the sexy shoes, his grace when he danced or worked, the timbre of his dark voice, the way women's underwear set off the size and shape of his cock and balls, his bad temper, his insecurity, his delightful humour: he was a hundred separate delights, and pitfalls. It was the wolf who saw him whole and called him "mine."

It would take a long time for Snape to be able tell him, "I love you" without the endless reservations, the complexities, the reasons on reasons, not to do so. He could offer to take crazy risks with his life before he'd be able to say something like that.

On his boat, at sunset, when Snape sat by him holding a wineglass full of pineapple juice, Remus thought this wasn't a problem. The brightest stars and a sliver of moon appeared as he put his hand in Snape's and watched the sun sink down into the endless blue. He would wait years for Severus to be ready, if he could have them with Severus by his side.

Through magic, they had cheated death to come live in this heaven of sea and sky instead. There was no reason they could not live happily ever after.