"What. Is. That?" The words were said slowly and deliberately, each syllable clearly enunciated, as if the person uttering them wanted to be absolutely certain they were understood. Or perhaps as if said individual was trying to restrain the impulse to strangle someone. Snape jabbed his finger toward the scrawny, tail-wagging mutt that had padded into the kitchen on Remus's heels.
"Now, Severus—" Remus started, sounding quite reasonable.
"Don't 'Now, Severus' me," Snape interrupted. He began to pace around the small kitchen. Startled, the dog cowered closer to Remus. "I said nothing when you started leaving scraps of food on the back porch for that feline terror. 'Don't worry,' you said. 'I won't bring it inside,' you insisted. And how long did that last before that bundle of fur and claws took over the entire house? A week or two?"
Remus knelt down next to the dog. "Shhh. It's all right, boy," he soothed, scratching the animal's head. Still looking at the dog, he muttered, "It was at least a month."
Snape made an impatient sound in his throat.
Remus sat back on his heels and looked up at Snape. "It was winter. She was cold." Remus's face began to take on that stubborn look Snape had learned to recognize.
"It's a cat! It has a built-in fur coat!" Snape was working himself into a fine snit. He veered too close in his prowling, and the dog yelped in fear.
Remus glared at him. "Is that really necessary, Severus? You are scaring him." He wrapped his arms around the dog and hugged him while he patted his hindquarters.
Snape stopped his pacing. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He did not like feeling control slipping from his grasp. It had been hard enough to open his home to Lupin. First the werewolf, then the cat, now this cur. He stared at the dog trembling in his lover's gentle embrace. He needed to take a stand before the place became a veritable menagerie. And yet—
After a few moments, Remus broke the silence. "You can see how thin he is. I found him hanging around some dustbins in an alley I passed on the way home from the butcher's. Would you have had me leave him there to starve?" he challenged, looking Snape in the eye.
The dog was little more than skin and bones, it was true. Snape supposed he should not be surprised Remus could not resist taking in hapless strays. It's what he does, his mind supplied. He sees suffering and feels an impulse to ease it. He silenced that internal voice before it could make the obvious comparison to himself. He drew in a deep breath, then let it out in a big sigh. If he wanted Remus to stay here with him—and it seemed he did, for better or worse—he would have to get used to his kind-hearted ways.
Snape slowly inched a bit closer. Getting down on his haunches, he held out his hand to the dog, which was now just barely within arm's reach. At first, the mutt shrank against Remus, but after a few moments, he seemed to relax enough to hesitantly sniff Snape's outstretched fingers. Moving carefully, Snape patted the dog's head, then scratched his ears. "There will be no licking," he told the beast firmly. He could almost swear the dog smiled its understanding.
He glanced toward Remus, who was looking at him with the most idiotic expression of happiness on his face; Snape felt annoyed and tender in almost equal degrees. "Don't look at me like that," he muttered, still petting the beast.
Remus tried to subdue his jubilation and hide his smile, but failed utterly.
Snape chose to ignore it. "Well? What have you decided to call him?" he asked in his best no-nonsense voice.
Remus muttered something incomprehensible, looking a bit sheepish.
"Speak up, man," Snape exhorted. "Look, you dragged him home. He's your beast. Name him whatever you like."
"Killer. His name is Killer," Remus said, patting the dog's haunches.
"And quite a ferocious beast he is, to be sure," Snape said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Why on earth …?" Suddenly, it clicked. Killer … and Queenie, the cat. Snape cleared his throat. "Remus, do you think maybe your obsession with Freddie Mercury has got a bit out of hand?"
"Of course not," Remus dismissed the suggestion, laughing. "Some things are not meant to be moderate or sensible, Severus." He reached across the dog and brushed Snape's hair out of his face. "Some things are beyond logic and reason." He shifted, moving around the dog so he was kneeling next to Snape. He brought his lips close to Severus's, whispering, "Like us," before he closed the gap between them.
As Remus's lips descended on his, warm and seductive, Snape lifted his hands and tangled his fingers in the werewolf's soft, brown hair. In that moment, he was certain that whatever privacy or autonomy he'd given up was a small price to pay for what he'd gained in return—the freedom of knowing he was loved and accepted for exactly who he was, just like the other strays who'd found a home in Remus's heart.
Chapter End Notes:
Author's Notes: This story was written for isalie, who requested a prequel to my story Flea-Bitten, explaining how the animals came to live with the couple. I hope this satisfies. Thanks as ever to my wonderful betas, chivalric and karelia.