|Feb. 13th, 2008 @ 12:33 pm Trading Places Fic: Sentence et Solace NC-17 (Cross-posted from lupin_snape)|
For once, I remember to x-post to my own journal!
Title: Sentence et Solace
For: Trading Places Challenge. Based on this gorgeous untitled piece by the incredibly talented fanlay. I am tickled to have the chance to write something for her luscious, knicker-drenching art. I hope it does even a small amount of justice to this piece.
Pairing: Snape/Lupin (of course)
Rating: NC-17 (for sex and language)
Kinks/Warnings: Alpha!Remus (you're shocked, right?) Unexpectedly, there is no non-con, dub-con, torture or death. In fact, nothing Dark at all. In fact... it might be a bit fluffly (at least by my standards.) There is still snark. And smut. But you probably figured that out from the art. No werewolves were harmed in the creation of this fic.
Word Count: 4756
Author's Notes: Many thanks to ships_harry for the initial lookover. Any mistakes you find are mine. Set during HBP (during which time Snape and Lupin were screwing each other senseless -- or so I am convinced), thus the implied, if brief, presence of Harry and Draco. The title is from Chaucer (unless my lit crit professor lied) and is pronounced "sen-TANCE eh so-LAHS".
Disclaimer: The boys and Hogwarts all belong to JKR, not me. No profit is being sought or gained.
Except for the snoring of sleeping portraits, the halls of Hogwarts were quiet, but it was close enough to the full moon that Remus Lupin knew something was going on. More to the point, he could smell it, and he knew just who was involved.
Draco’s sharp, almost icy scent – which all year had held the sour tang of underlying panic – still lingered faintly in the air, but Harry’s scent – agitated, angry, worried -- was fresher. He had passed this way so recently that Remus was puzzled that he hadn’t heard or seen him. He could have used an Undetectable – James’s son was certainly talented enough when he wanted to be, but... Of course, Remus shook his head. The Invisibility Cloak. He wondered how he could have forgotten that, and peered around more carefully, sharpening his senses. Harry might still be in the vicinity, and even invisible, it wasn’t in the boy’s best interest to be wandering about at night. He almost considered calling out to Harry when he realized that Draco’s and Harry’s were not the only blood-scents he could smell, and that the disturbance he had perceived had in no way disappeared along with the two boys.
“Blast,” he hissed under his breath before he even heard the soft, swift footfalls, because the scent – the presence – was already arching over him like a wave, threatening to flood his senses. He knew who it was immediately, not just because of the complex scent – herbs and anger, camphor, musk and bitterness – but because of what that scent did to him; what it always did to him. He knew because of the way his heart speeded up, the way his breath quickened, the way his mouth started to go dry. He knew from the way his eyes narrowed, his ears sharpened and his nostrils flared – like a wolf alert for prey – and from the way even the air felt different on his skin.
He pulled swiftly into a shadowed corner as the footsteps and the presence drew nearer. He waited – wondering briefly just why he was hiding, for he had every right to be there; was assigned to be there, in fact – but was jarred from his thoughts by an unexpected sound. The sound of someone stumbling. Falling. Struggling. And swearing. Loudly.
Someone named Severus Snape.
Ducking out of shadows, Remus drew his wand and slid swiftly along the wall toward the sound of the commotion. He drew up short as he turned the corner, somewhat confounded by what lay before him: Snape, sprawled on the floor, snarling oaths – some of them quite colourful – and wrestling with something that was completely invisible. Whatever it was had Snape almost completely immobilized, because except for one hand, which was clawing toward his dropped wand, all his limbs were pinned to the floor. This didn’t prevent Snape from struggling – bucking and twisting against the unseen force that held him – and Remus stopped dead in his tracks, unable to do anything but gape at the sight of the Potions Master writhing against the floor like that.
“Dear Merlin...” Remus intoned. Snape’s head snapped up, his black eyes glaring through strands of tangled hair, and Remus saw him bare his teeth.
“Lupin!” he hissed. “Don’t just stand there, you imbecile! Help me!” Severus’ voice seemed to snap Remus out of his daze. He blinked, then shook his head.
“Of course, Severus. Finite Incantatem!” Snape wasn’t quite able to muffle his sigh of relief as his invisible captor dissipated and he slumped against the floor. Lupin came forward, stooping to collect Snape’s wand, then went to his knees beside the prone wizard.
“Severus, what happened? What was that?”
“You’ll have to ask Potter if you really want to know,” the Potions Master spit angrily, pushing himself up, “not that you’d get a truthful answer from the brat.”
“You think Harry did that?” Remus asked blankly. “Whatever that was had you wrapped up almost like...”
“An Invisible Devil’s Snare, yes,” Snape snorted.
“That’s a rather Dark spell,” Remus said uncertainly. “It doesn’t really sound like something Harry would do.” Severus gave a sharp ‘hmph’ that indicated his thoughts on that matter, but Remus was remembering the other boy he had scented. He suspected an Invisible Devil’s Snare spell was something that Draco Malfoy would do.
“It’s not that Dark,” Snape grumbled, gingerly trying to gain his feet. Remus held out a hand, which Snape ignored. “And as you might have observed, it’s quite effective slowing or stopping pursuit.” Snape was leaning against the wall now, trying to push himself to his feet, but Remus saw how his limbs were trembling, and was already moving forward to catch him when Snape’s knee seemed to buckle and he went down.
“Steady on,” Remus said, sitting Snape down and propping him against the wall. “Severus, you’re shaking. Let me see your hands.” Snape muttered something pejorative and turned his head away, but didn’t resist when Remus turned his hands upward. His palms were scraped raw, and Remus’ eyes widened when he saw the shadow of bruises forming on one wrist. “Merlin, but that thing really caught you, didn’t it? Here, I can fix these.”
Snape allowed him to perform a simple healing spell on each hand, and both of them watched as the red, raw patches slowly disappeared. Snape gave a little grunt of approval – which was probably all the thanks Remus figured he could expect – but when he tried to pull his hands away, Remus caught one and held it.
“Where else are you hurt?” Remus asked in a voice that was not nearly as courteously disinterested as it should have been. Snape glanced up at him, and for a moment his gaze held something other than irritation.
“Nowhere,” he snapped. He tried to jerk his hand away again, harder this time, and Remus saw Snape’s black eyes widen when he didn’t let go.
“Your knee’s hurt, isn’t it? That’s why you couldn’t stand up.” He laid a hand on a sharp, bony knee. Snape flinched, swore and tried to pull away, but Remus ran his hand down Snape’s shin. “Let me see, all right?” He started to lift the hem of Snape’s robe.
“Lupin, don’t!” Snape hissed, finally wresting his hand from Lupin’s grasp and trying to shove him away.
“Severus, what’s wrong with you?” Remus growled, fending off Snape’s blow as he pulled up the light woollen robe. “I’m just trying to....” His voice trailed off in shock at what he saw. It wasn’t just the bruising on the skinny ankle or the thin trail of blood running down the front of his leg. It was that the long, pallid leg was bare; and that, under the concealing teaching robes, the rest of Severus appeared to be bare, as well.
“Stop that!” the Potions Master snapped, yanking the hem of his robe from Remus’ grip and jerking it down. “What do you think you’re doing, Lupin?”
“Trying to look at your knee, which is obviously injured,” Remus said, sitting back and eyeing Snape carefully. “But I’d like to know what you’re doing running around the corridors of Hogwarts with nothing on under your robes?”
“Chasing Potter, of course,” Snape growled. He rolled his eyes at the look Remus gave him. “Not like that, you idiot! The alarm spell on the Potions Storeroom went off – far too many things have been mysteriously disappearing of late. Ever since Potter came to school, in fact.”
“And I suppose you were in bed at the time?”
“Yes, of course!” he snorted. “When the alarm sounded, I put on the first thing that came to hand and went to find the culprit. Surely you don’t expect me to stand there doing up buttons while a thief is getting away, do you? I... why the devil are you looking at me that way?”
“Don’t you normally sleep in a nightshirt, Severus?” Even in the darkened hallway, Remus could see the sudden flush across Snape’s cheeks.
“I fail to see how what I wear or don’t wear to bed has any bearing on...”
“And just what were you doing in bed without your nightshirt, Severus?” Remus leaned in, close enough to feel the heat of Snape’s skin, and hear how fast his heart was beating. His own voice had gone low and throaty, and his mouth curved into a feral smile.
“Why do you think it’s any of your business, wolf?” Snape’s voice had gone even lower.
“Maybe it isn’t any of my business,” Remus said. “But maybe it should have been.” Snape swallowed, but didn’t offer any response to that. “Let me see your knee, Severus.” He tugged the black wool out of Snape’s fingers and drew it up to expose his leg. The knee was knobby and bruised and scraped bloody, just like his palms had been. Remus healed it with the same spell, but when he touched the kneecap, Snape hissed and jerked.
“Stop touching it, Lupin! I think it’s sprained.”
“Hmm. I could try to fix that as well, but you might be better off if Pomfrey sees to it.” Remus cocked his head at Snape. “So... does anything else... need attention?”
Snape glared at him. “Just help me up so I can get back to my rooms.” Remus didn’t respond. He was still holding Snape’s knee, and he felt the muscles tense beneath his fingers as he slid his hand down the inside of Snape’s long, lean thigh. “Lupin, what the hell do you think—ahh!”
Remus sucked in a breath as his hand brushed Severus’ balls, then wrapped around his cock – his half-hard, slick cock. He instinctively started a long, slow stroke, but Snape swore and grabbed his wrist. The two of them sat there in the middle of the corridor, their hands up Snape’s robes, staring at each other.
“I think I’ve solved the mystery as to why you weren’t wearing your nightshirt,” Remus said with a slow, wicked smile.
“It wasn’t a mystery!” Snape hissed. Remus leaned into Snape, so close their stubbled jaws scraped, and breathed into his ear.
“Why didn’t you call me, Severus?” he whispered roughly, squeezing Snape's cock and feeling it throb in answer. “You know I would have taken care of this.” He had been mildly aroused from the moment he had detected Snape’s scent in the hallway, and touching him had only made it worse. Now, the feel of the other man’s hot, moist length thickening in his hand made his groin tighten and sent the blood rushing out of Remus’ head and into his cock, so fast it almost made him dizzy.
“I prize—self-sufficiency,” Snape said through gritted teeth, but Remus felt him tremble when he started moving his thumb in small circles on Snape’s shaft. “Besides,” he added, his voice strained. “You were on duty—Merlin, stop it, Lupin! For that matter, aren’t you still on duty?”
“I am, in fact,” Remus said with a hoarse chuckle, pulling back a little but not removing his hand from Snape’s prick. “But since you seem to be in some... distress,” he added, pressing his thumb into the damp slit, making Snape gasp and jerk and squeeze his eyes shut, “I think Professor Dumbledore would agree that seeing the wounded Hogwarts Potions Master back to his rooms is all in the line of duty, wouldn’t you?” Remus reluctantly released Snape, drew back and got to his feet, dusting off the knees of his trousers. He noted Snape regarding the growing bulge at his groin with a raised eyebrow and grinned.
“And what about tending said Potion Master’s wounds?” Snape posed, tipping his head back and eyeing Remus from under his lashes.
“Oh, I shall definitely be tending to anything causing you discomfort, Severus,” Remus grinned. He bent down to clasp Severus’ arms. “Here, can you stand?” Snape grunted as Remus hauled him up. He stood, but then gave a little hop when he tried to put weight on his knee and almost lost his balance.
“Careful!” Remus caught Snape’s arm as Snape stumbled against him, and found himself nose to nose with the dark eyed wizard, both of them panting a little. Before he could think twice, Remus had Snape pressed against the wall, his teeth marking the side of Snape’s throat as he growled and drove their groins together. Snape was fully hard now, and so was he, and it felt so good, grinding his stiff cock against Snape’s hard length, drowning in the scent of Snape’s skin, his blood, his panicked arousal, his unwashed hair, that he almost didn’t feel Snape’s fingers pinching into his shoulders like claws, almost didn’t hear his protests.
“Not here, you fool!” Snape was hissing, in between gasps and grunts as Remus’ mouth tore at his throat. “God! Lupin—fuck! Not in the corridor, you idiot! Are you entirely mad?”
“Yes,” Remus groaned, wrenching his lips off Snape’s skin. “Fuck, Severus, I want you here—now!”
“For Merlin’s sake, control yourself, Lupin! At least—God, what are you—Lupin! What the hell do you think—augh!—you’re doing!”
“I think,” Remus said as he stepped back, grabbed Severus by the waist and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of grain, “that I am getting us to your rooms as quickly as possible!”
“Lupin! Ahh—fuck! Let me—I can walk, damn you!”
“Not fast enough, you can’t,” Remus gritted out, striding down the hallway as quickly as he could without running. Some of the portraits had awakened during the commotion and Remus caught several wide-eyed glances, a couple of “Oh my!”s and one old witch with a monocle nearly falling out of her frame as he stalked to the dungeons with his burden of snarling, kicking Potions Master.
“Lupin! Put me down!” Snape growled. “This is completely—uhh!—undignified! If anyone sees—I’ll—ahh!”
“If anyone sees us, Severus,” Remus told him, taking the steps to the dungeons two at a time, “it will be because you won’t stop wagging your jaw. Do you want the students gossiping as well as the portraits?”
“Ah—Damn it! If anyone—wakes up—ugh!—you’d better—gah!—Obliviate the little—rotters!”
“And if I don’t?” Remus snorted.
“I’ll kill them,” Snape grunted. “Right after I kill you!”
“Fine.” Remus answered in a sort of breathless chuckle, and gave Snape’s rump a firm, rather proprietary pat. “As long as I get a piece of this before I go.”
“Oh, you are mad if you think you’re getting near my arse after—ahh! Slow down, you maniac!—this—display!”
“You know, Severus,” Remus laughed. “I might actually believe you mean that if your cock wasn’t as hard as a chair leg and jutting into my shoulder. I expect it will leave a bruise. Oh thank Merlin, we’re here!” He paused, leaning a hand on the wall to catch his breath. “Please tell me you didn’t change your password?”
“No,” Snape muttered darkly. “But you’d better believe I’m going to.”
“Sentence et Solace,” Lupin whispered, holding Snape securely on his shoulder with one hand while his free hand was already busy unfastening his pants. The door swung open, and before Lupin was three steps inside, he’d kicked off his shoes, toed off his socks and was shucking both trousers and underpants.
“LUPIN!” Snape bellowed, the moment the door shut and the Wards and Silence Spells fell back into place. “Let me go, you degenerate!”
“Half a moment, Severus,” Lupin grunted, kicking open the door to Snape’s bedchamber while unbuttoning his shirt, one-handed.
“Damn it, Lupin, put me down—AHH!”
“There,” Lupin huffed, flinging Snape onto his bed. “You’re down.”
Snape bounced once on the mattress, then lay there looking stunned – arms out, eyes blinking, mouth open. Lupin stripped off his shirt and cardigan and stood there, naked, panting and incredibly hard, gazing down at Severus with hungry – no, ravenous eyes.
“Lupin,” Snape ventured, eyeing Remus uneasily. “Just what are you—fuck!”
Whatever Snape had wanted to say was lost as Remus leapt upon him with a feral growl, seized the front of his robes and ripped them open, top to bottom, laying Snape totally bare. Remus groaned as his eyes roved over the man beneath him, taking everything in – the thin, heaving chest, the flat, trembling stomach, the sharp, protruding hipbones, the skin almost porcelain pale except for the blush across his cheeks, the pinkish nipples, and the hard cock, flushed and damp and straining from its small patch of wiry coal black hair.
“Oh Merlin!” Remus breathed, almost reverently, right before he grabbed the lean, white thighs, pushed them open and hurled himself on top of him with a cry. Snape gasped and arched under him as Remus buried his face in the crook of his neck, biting and sucking, lapping at his pulse. His hands slid over Snape’s thin body, stroking along his ribs, down his waist, thumbs circling around a hipbone or over a tightening nipple.
“Lupin!” Snape groaned, twisting his hips as Remus writhed against him. “Lupin—blast it! At least—God!—let me get my damned—oh fuck, there! Get—yes!—get my damned boots off!”
“No,” Remus growled, pulling his mouth from Snape’s shoulder to bite and worry at a nipple. “Not until I get—mhmm, yes—what I want.” He tugged at the little nub of flesh with his teeth until Snape whimpered.
“Fuck,” Snape moaned, tossing his head and pressing up against Remus’ mouth. “Haven’t you got what you want?”
“What I want, Severus,” Remus panted, rocking their hips together, pressing prick to prick, balls to balls, grinding against him until both of them were gasping. “What I want—fuck!—is to get inside you! Now!” Snape closed his eyes and made a whining sound at the back of his throat, and Remus took it as agreement. With a growl, he hooked his arm under Snape’s uninjured leg and shifted his hips until his cock slid into the cleft of Snape’s arse.
“God!” Remus whimpered, squirming until the head of his prick was lodged against Snape’s tight hole. “God, you’re already wet! Bastard!” He reached down to steady his cock as he pressed it in. Both of them were breathing like runners, and Snape’s eyes were wide and a little wild; so black that Remus couldn’t tell the pupil from the iris. His eyes snapped shut in a grimace as Remus pushed in. With a low growl, he grabbed Snape’s hair, made him open his eyes. “Not even a whimper, Severus? Tell me, how many fingers were you fucking yourself with when you were having your little midnight wank?”
“Two,” he gasped, trying to pull Remus’ hand off his hair.
“Liar,” Remus snorted. He pushed Snape’s leg up until he felt the muscles draw, then slammed into him all the way.
“Ahh! Three!” Snape cried out, tossing his head. “All right, three!”
“You’re sure about that?” Remus asked, pulling nearly all the way out, then ramming back in even harder.
“Yes!” Snape spit. “Three! Four hurts. More than your bloody great prick! God. Move, damn you!”
Remus needed to move – needed to feel his cock pumping in and out of that tight channel; needed to feel Snape writhing and panting beneath him, meeting his thrusts, cursing out his pleasure – but the feel of being balls deep in the snug, silky grip of Snape’s arse was so good he didn’t really want to move.
“Lupin!” Snape groaned, twisting his hips. “Please!”
Remus leaned down so that their mouths were bare inches apart, and his fringe tickled Snape’s face. “Say my name,” he whispered.
Snape scowled at him. “Stupid werewolf.”
“Wrong name.” He rocked his hips just enough for his cock to brush against Snape’s prostate, wringing a frustrated whine from the man beneath him. “Try again.”
“Oh God,” Snape heaved, arching up, trying to get Remus in deeper.
“Still not right.”
“Damn it, Remus!” Snape growled. “Are you going to fuck me or aren’t you?”
“Good boy,” Remus chuckled, and aimed a thrust right into Snape’s prostate.
“Ahh! I am not—a dog!”
“Bitch, then,” Remus rumbled, his voice half growl, half purr, as he drew back and thrust again, then again. “Pretty little bitch,” he whispered, dipping his head to lick at Snape’s throat.
“Oh, now I know you’ve gone ‘round the twist,” Snape huffed.
“Most likely,” Remus grunted, pushing himself up on his hands. He gazed down at Snape as he rolled his hips, matching his thrusts to the other’s urgent writhing until they caught and held a rhythm, and he was plunging into Snape with deep, sure strokes. Yes, he thought to himself, I probably have gone mad,because he couldn’t think of anything better – couldn’t think of anything he wanted more – than watching Severus Snape bite his lip and tear at the covers and thrash and moan while he fucked him.
Remus changed his angle to hit the sweet spot on each stroke, and Snape went half wild with it, gasping at every thrust, clawing at the sheets, at Remus’ shoulder, at his own chest. Remus could feel Snape’s prick – hard, hot and leaking – trapped between their bellies, and when Snape whined and lifted his head, Remus knew what he wanted and shifted to free up one hand.
“Oh God! Remus—yes!” Snape cried out when Remus curled his fingers around his swollen, sweat-slick cock and started to stroke in time with his thrusts. The hand gripping Remus shoulder now wound itself in his ash-brown hair, and he looked down to see Snape’s narrow, pinched face flushed with desire, his black eyes glazed with pleasure, and Remus felt his climax gathering in his loins and knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. He groaned and turned his head enough to press half a kiss on the inside of Severus’ wrist.
“Hold me,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “Wrap your legs around me.”
A strange little half-smile flickered over Snape’s lips. “You’ll have heel marks on your back, imbecile.”
“Don’t care,” Remus panted, squeezing Snape’s cock as his long, deep thrusts got shorter, faster, wilder. “I want to feel you—feel you all around me. God! Hold me—hold on to me!” Snape moaned in answer, and Remus felt the long, skinny legs embrace him, felt rough boot heels digging into his arse and thighs, felt Snape’s fingers drawing him down, wiry arms wrapping around him, clinging to him, holding him tight.
“Oh, fuck yes, Severus!” he groaned, pounding into him like the mad beast Snape had always said he was, and when his climax hit, bursting inside him, bursting out of him, he buried his face and his cry in Snape’s pale neck and dark hair.
“Remus!” Snape moaned, still holding him, still pressing up against him, and he realized Snape’s prick was still hard and hot in his grip. Pushing himself up, he slid down the thin, sweat-drenched body, his cock still dripping as he pulled it free, and took Snape’s shaft in his mouth. He sucked it down as far as he could, keeping one hand wrapped around the base, plunged two fingers into Snape’s come-slick hole, found the swollen gland and pressed up. Snape came so fast and so hard he didn’t even have time to cry out, but just whimpered as Remus stroked inside him and sucked him dry, at last falling limp with a small shudder as Remus pulled off of him.
Neither of them spoke for awhile. Remus lay with his head on Snape’s hip, waiting for his heartbeat to slow down, and idly tracing the faint line of hair that ran from Snape’s navel to his cock. Severus lay with an arm thrown over his eyes, his only movement the rise and fall of his chest. Finally, Remus lifted his head and rolled onto his side, propping himself on one elbow to survey his bed mate. Snape eventually dragged his arm off his face and tipped his head, raising an eyebrow at Remus.
“What?” he frowned, noting the curious look on the werewolf’s face. Remus paused, then pointedly looked him up and down, from his tangled hair, down his sprawled, naked body, to his boots.
“You look ridiculous, you know,” Remus remarked.
Snape glared at him. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”
“I’m not the one who decided to go traipsing about half starkers.”
“You’re the one who refused to let me properly disrobe!”
“Well,” Remus offered mildly, “nothing’s preventing you from doing it now.”
“You expect me to move after a fucking like that?” Snape tried to scowl at him, but didn’t seem to have the necessary energy. Lupin chuckled, then roused himself enough to pull off Snape’s boots and toss them to the floor before flopping back on the bed.
“Get up, wolf.” Snape nudged him with a foot. “I have classes to teach tomorrow. And you’re still on duty.”
"Right," Remus sighed, levering himself up and running a hand through his hair.“Where are my clothes?”
“In a trail from the door to the bed,” Snape muttered. “Or so it appeared from my vantage point hanging over your shoulder,” he added with a brief snort. Remus turned his face away so Snape couldn’t see his smirk and wandered off to gather his clothes. When he returned to the bedroom, Snape had traded his torn robes for an enveloping nightshirt, and was punching a pillow into shape.
“No further plans for the evening, I see?” Remus smiled, ducking his head as he pulled his trousers on.
Snape just glowered at him and shoved the pillow behind him. “None you will be privy to, I assure you.”
Remus raised an eyebrow at that as he fastened up his shirt, but couldn’t help smiling. “Password the same going out as coming in, yes?”
“Yes, Lupin. Sentence et Solace,” he sighed as if weary of repeating it.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you what that means.” Remus said, tugging on his jumper. He paused when he saw Snape giving him an odd, almost hesitant look. “It isn’t anything naughty, is it?” he asked, perhaps a bit too hopefully.
“No, of course not!” Snape snorted, crossing his arms and leaning back on his pillows. “It means...’to teach and to delight’.” Snape darted a look at Remus as if daring him to make some comment. Remus just looked thoughtful. He sat down on the edge of the bed to pull on his socks and tie his shoes.
“I rather like that,” Remus decided, then glanced at Snape. “I would assume you do as well?”
“Yes,” he sniffed, crossing his arms. He looked down at the covers he had pulled up to his lap and frowned. “Albus teased me about it. Something about my teaching methods ‘not being particularly delightful’. I keep meaning to change it, but....”
“Don’t change it,” Remus told him, standing up and straightening his collar.
“Why not?” Snape asked, looking suspicious.
“Well, for one thing, I know it,” Remus smiled cheerfully. “And I’d like to be able to continue using it.” Snape just arched an eyebrow at that. “And for another thing,” Remus continued, “you are a teacher, and quite an effective one.”
“Just not a ‘particularly delightful’ one,” Snape muttered, looking away. Remus studied him a moment, then leaned over, put one finger on his sharp chin and gently turned his face back.
“You don’t have to be a ‘delightful’ teacher, Severus,” Remus told him, looking into his eyes. “You delight me.”
Snape blinked at him, then blushed the deepest shade of scarlet Remus had ever seen. “I’m sure Albus will be delighted to hear that,” he grumbled.
“Let’s go tell him, then,” Remus grinned.
“Let’s not!” Snape shook off Remus’ hand and shooed him away. “Get out of here, Lupin. I have to get some sleep tonight.”
“Yes, I suppose you should,” Remus considered. “You do have to teach as well as delight.”
“I’m leaving,” Remus said quickly, already heading for the door. “Good night, Severus.” He stood before the door a moment, then softly but clearly said “Sentence et Solace”, then stepped out into the hall.
Just before the door clicked shut behind him, he heard, softly but clearly, “Idiot.”
Remus stared at the Potion Master’s door for a moment, and slowly, his mouth curled up in a grin. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he walked off to continue his rounds, whistling softly.