That Which None Should Want

It was getting worse, Bill had said, and Remus didn’t doubt it. He could see for himself that each full moon grew harder, and Bill’s eyes grew wilder. Even his wife had noticed.

“She’s spending the night with Mum,” Bill confessed. Remus was afraid to comment on such a touchy subject.

Personally, though, Remus didn’t blame Fleur at all. If his condition continued deteriorating, the full moon could leave Bill as a wolf trapped in a man’s body. Much like Fenrir had been every day of his adult life until he’d gotten himself killed just over a year ago. When Remus voiced those concerns, Bill immediately grasped the seriousness of the situation. There was nothing more dangerous than a threat wrapped in a deceptive package. No one would expect calm, confident Bill Weasley to turn on them. He could make another unfortunate share his fate, or kill someone.

He wasn’t quite a wolf, but that hardly seemed to matter. He had the wolf inside him. And Wolfsbane could not tame it without the appearance of the wolf’s physical form.

“I want you to do something for me,” Bill proposed calmly. Remus knew exactly what Bill was going to say, and he was anything but composed. The idea scared him witless.

And yet somehow, he still found himself curled in on himself in the corner of his little cell, a precaution he took in just the Wolfsbane failed. Bill leaned against the door in front of him, staring almost expectantly at him. Waiting.

When the wracking pain of the change had surfaced and faded and he recovered his sense of self, Remus quickly realised he wasn’t alone. There was another with him. A man, and yet …

Wolf.

He smelled his fellow in the thick air and then his perception of reality blurred.

* * * * * * * * * *

Remus awoke remembering very little of the night before. There had been screaming, he remembered, and that thought made his breath catch until he recalled the nature of it. For there had been too much desperate pleasure expended during the night for the screaming to have been pained.

There was some recollection of sliding his tongue over human flesh, concentrating particularly on where his sharp claws left proprietary scratches not deep enough to infect, but enough to sting and require soothing. And on other areas further down the body than those scratches, as well.

He remembered being enveloped in a tight heat, perhaps not as wet as he’d have liked but very acceptable regardless. Any company was wonderful during the full moon, but he’d never before been able to thrust and grip and howl as a wolf.

It had been exhilarating. That was what he remembered most.

Bill awakened when Remus started hyperventilating at the memory. Bill had asked him to bite him when he was under Wolfsbane, Remus remembered, so that there would be minimal pain in his turning. Instead, he’d …

Oh, Merlin.

“I raped you,” Remus gasped.

And he’d turned him, which was somehow even worse, even though that had been the whole point. For after the almost brutal mating of the night before, there was no way Bill hadn’t been infected.

“No,” Bill said, his voice as sleepy as he appeared. “I wanted it. I only asked you not to hurt me too much when you bit me. Instead … you made me feel so good. It was much better than biting or scratching.” Then Bill gave him a teasing grin. “Although I do remember quite a bit of scratching.”

When Bill saw that Remus didn’t appear to share his amusement, his face turned serious.

“I don’t think the Wolfsbane worked quite as planned,” he began, “and you weren’t really in control all that much. It wasn’t your fault. But even if you’d done it on purpose, I’d still be thanking you for it. It was some of the best sex I’ve had in years. Which is a bit weird really, since it was all a bit unusual.”

Unusual. Remus would have laughed if he could have mustered up the energy. Interspecies sex, and Bill labelled it ‘a bit unusual’.

Bill reached a hand around Remus’ neck to pull him unsuspecting into a chaste but determined kiss. Remus stepped back after a moment, eyes wide.

“I …” Remus began.

Bill smiled wistfully. “You’re with Tonks,” he completed the anticipated argument. “And I’m with Fleur. And life’s good just how it is. But that doesn’t mean this can’t be a good memory. I want to be welcomed back in a month’s time. And I don’t want you to hate yourself.”

Too late, Remus thought to himself. Sure, Bill had wanted what had happened, and it had probably made him and those around him safer, if how things had been progressing had been any indication. And Remus had done it without hurting Bill. Indeed, Bill had enjoyed it quite a bit, from what his overloaded memory informed him. Even their enforced closeness in the aftermath, with the two of them glued so near that Remus had felt like they would never separate.

But the fact remained that he had done something that he’d been sworn against his whole life.

“Remus?” Bill whispered, catching Remus’ attention once more. “I mean it. Don’t blame yourself. I know how hard this was for you, but I’m thankful you did it.”

Remus forced a grim smile, but Bill must have taken it for reassurance, because he clapped Remus on the shoulder and smiled back.

That smile stirred something in Remus that didn’t feel like the wolf, but was buried almost as deep. It purred contentedly at the thought of this man returning next moon, of companionship and passion. Remus wondered then if the Wolfsbane had really been faulty after all.

He shivered despite the pressing heat of his cage.

Bill was wrong, Remus reflected after the younger man had retreated, leaving Remus to collapse in exhaustion. He didn’t know how hard it was. Not yet, at least. And Remus hoped he never would.

~FIN~