Starts With A Spin, Staff Edition

Two days.



Forty-eight hours that seemed like a lifetime.



Remus was waiting for him when he returned and took him, still weak and trembling, into his arms and into his bed.



After the summons, Snape had struggled to dress himself while Remus paced the room.



"You can\'t go," he had said, indignant and afraid, "you\'re still sick. You\'re too weak."



"I must," he replied.



Remus said nothing as he helped Snape on with his clothes, but his clouded eyes spoke volumes. And when Snape\'s clumsy, swollen hand proved to be inept, Remus took over--pushing those repressive buttons through each tiny, repressive hole.



He smoothed a hand down the row of shiny, black fastenings, knowing Snape\'s penchant for tidiness, but did not look up to meet his eye.



"Remus…" Snape began, but was unsure how to continue. It was enough. Lupin grabbed him and clutched him to his chest. He pressed his lips into his still damp hair and clung to his stiff form, afraid to let go.



After a time, Snape broke the embrace.



"I\'ll be back," he said simply, then turned and left, robes billowing despite his weakened state.



When in doubt, exit dramatically.



And now that he had returned and was safe, he dared to relax. To sink into the bed and sink into Lupin\'s embrace.



Sinking.



He was sinking.



The water rose up around him, enveloping his head while the weight of his robes dragged him down. He struggled against them, flailing in the murky depths until he managed to work the clasp, freeing himself. He strained to break the surface, lungs burning and eyes bulging with the effort, until head and heart pounding, he emerged, taking in great, greedy breaths.



Something brushed against his ankle and he flinched, his first horrid thoughts of the Giant Squid. He had no desire to see its underwater lair. He turned, dog-paddling.



Dog…paddling…Wolf?



Craning around to find his bearings.



A howl rose up from the Forest and the melancholy sound of it chilled him in a way that the frigid water could not.



The wolf betrayed me.



He awoke with a start, confused and disoriented. The darkened room offered no clues.



Water…and something about…a wolf?



Remus stirred in the bed beside him and the dream broke up into silvery wisps. He was home. Of course.



He settled back down, falling into the blessed blackness of dreamless sleep.







The next morning brought with it some noisy sucking and a horrified house-elf. \'Spinky\' had at first tried to defend Mr. Snape\'s honour by shooing Lupin away with a straw broom, and then had almost suffered a coronary event when it was explained to him Mr. Lupin wasn\'t trying to hurt Mr. Snape, but Mr. Snape actually liked it when Mr. Lupin touched him that way.



Down there.



With his mouth.



Spinky\'s eyes had widened to almost comical proportions when Lupin gently explained that sometimes, when two adults like each other, they \'tickle\' each other in ways that \'feel good.\'



"Please," said Snape, his head slung low in his hands, "I\'d prefer him to think you were assaulting me."



"Well," said Lupin, highly amused by the entire production, "with the way you were shouting and writhing about, it\'s no wonder he felt you needed rescuing."



"Oh Gods," moaned Snape, "I\'m sure the news will have traveled all the way to Spinner\'s End before dark."



Lupin smiled and pushed Snape back down on the bed.



"I\'d love to be a fly on the wall in the kitchens right now."



"Hand me my wand and your wish might come true."



Lupin pulled away the sheets and ran his tongue over the soft flesh of Snape\'s flaccid cock. It twitched in response. He ran his mouth over it again and watched greedily as it began to swell.



"Remus," Snape said, his mood lifting as quickly as his prick, "in light of this morning\'s \'incident\' I would appreciate it if…" he stopped to suck in a sharp breath as Lupin\'s tongue swirled around the head of his now more than erect cock, "…if we could use a modicum of…of…"



Lupin pressed forward, swallowing the member down, then releasing it, only to press forward again. "…a modicum…" OhShit, OhGods "…of…of…discretion."



Lupin hummed his agreement but Snape grabbed him by his hair and made him meet his eye.



"Discretion. Did you hear what I said?"



Lupin smiled around his fleshy prize and nodded (in a decidedly exaggerated up and down motion).



"Discretion, Severus," he said, releasing the prick only to capture it in his mouth once more. "I\'m all about the discretion."





True to his word, Lupin was more than discrete the rest of the day. He left Snape\'s chambers early enough to miss any early students wandering the dungeons, and in the Great Hall at breakfast, he barely looked in Snape\'s direction.



Of course, the nature of their tryst was no secret, what with Dumbledore\'s inability to keep his pie-hole shut, and Spinky\'s regaling the entire staff of house-elves of that morning\'s traumatic events, but Snape could control no one but himself, and control he would.



Minerva was as chatty (and boring) as ever, and Snape found himself wishing for the painful distraction of lady\'s knickers. The rest of the day proved to be quite uneventful as well, and other than two exploding cauldrons (both by Neville Longbottom) things had gone better than Snape could have expected.



With most of the students tucked safely away in their dorms, Snape walked his nightly rounds with a weary satisfaction. It was good to be back. It was good to no longer be sick. It was also good to know that there might be a visitor waiting for him in his chambers.



He stopped a moment.



Or would there be? It was Friday evening, and neither of them had to be up early the next day, but nothing had been arranged, so Snape was unsure. Should he stop by Lupin\'s office before turning in? Or is that too needy?



Owl him?



Too formal.



Floo powder?



Too familiar.



He was standing just outside the Great Hall, contemplating the proper etiquette on Man-Dating, when his ears perked up and he instinctively reached inside his robes for his wand.



Footsteps were approaching from the east. This wasn\'t the sound of someone walking from one place to another, but rather someone who was attempting to sneak about undetected.



Black? His body tingled with the possibility of being the one to catch that arrogant bastard. His fingers slipped around the hard length of his wand as he pressed himself up against a shadowed doorway.



The footfalls were coming faster now, and Snape pulled his wand free and held it aloft. "Lumos" he whispered, but nothing happened. "Lumos!" he said, louder, shaking his wand, as if to wake it.



Nothing.



Someone sprang from the shadows and grabbed him, pushing him backwards through the unlocked door and they both tumbled in a heap amidst buckets and mops. The familiar smell of mildew and cleansers reached his bountiful nose and he had a second to realize where he was.



The broom closet.



Their broom closet.



He pressed his wand into the strangers face and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"



There was a loud sniff and the stranger chuckled. It, too, was familiar.



"R-Remus?"



Lupin lit his own wand and smiled at Severus. He then leaned toward Snape\'s wand (still pointing at his face) and bit the end off of it, smiling as he chewed.



"Licorice," he said, smiling wickedly. "I can\'t smell it anymore without getting hard. I\'m sure everyone at Honeydukes thinks I\'m a raving pedophile."



"You scared the living shit out of me!" Snape admonished, but Lupin was at his neck, nipping and sucking him.



"How\'s this for discreet?" he smiled into the warm flesh of Snape\'s throat, then slipped one hand between the man\'s legs.



"Close the damn door," Snape replied, pressing his groin into Lupin\'s hand.



Remus stood to shut the door, then hauled Snape to his feet and spun him around to face the back wall. He pressed tightly against him, cupping Snape\'s quickly hardening cock with one hand and unlatching the clasp of his robes with the other. When it fell to the floor, he began working the fastenings of his trousers.



"How do you want it this time?" he asked roughly, biting Snape\'s shoulder through his shirt. "In my mouth?" He let his lips trail up to Snape\'s ear and ran his tongue along its delicate folds. "In my hot, tight arse?"



Snape groaned against the limestone wall and thrust his hips backwards into the other man\'s hardness. Lupin\'s hand felt so right on his prick and his mind slipped back to the look of lusty need on his face when Snape\'s cock had slid into the firm channel of his arse.



He wanted that for himself.



He needed it.



"Do me." Snape hissed as his own hands slipped around to free Lupin\'s prick.



"R-really?" Lupin asked, all pretense of dominance gone from his voice. "A-are you sure?"



Snape pulled Remus\' trousers down and ground his still clothed arse into Remus\' hard length.



"Are you here to listen to me beg, or are you here to fuck me?" Snape growled and he pushed Lupin\'s slack hands from the front of his own trousers and unfastened them as well.



"Both," he panted, sucking in an appreciative breath as his heavy prick dragged across Snape\'s backside. He leaned down and fumbled in his cape a moment, then held a small bottle aloft in the dim light. He then uncorked it and poured some of the viscous liquid onto his palms and then drizzled some down the crack of Snape\'s arse.



He bent Snape over the sink, still mouthing his neck and ear. Snape shivered as one slick finger glided up the cleft of his arse then paused, gently circling his entrance.



"You\'ve got a sweet arse, Severus." He groaned in Snape\'s ear. He pushed a fingertip inside, and then withdrew it, circling again. "Next time," he continued, licking the sharp edge of Snape\'s jaw, "I\'m going to use my mouth instead of my hands."



The fingertip was back, pressing firmly, yet gently into him. He gave it a slight twist and cupped Snape\'s balls with his other hand.



"Pretend it\'s my tongue pressing into you. Tasting you."



Snape moaned at the thought of Lupin\'s wet tongue between his cheeks and he pressed back against his hand. Lupin turned his finger again and pinched lightly at the soft skin of Snape\'s ball sack with his other hand. With Snape pushing back with more pressure, he slid one foot between Snape\'s legs and kicked them apart, pressing against one bare arse cheek with his throbbing prick.



Snape whimpered.



I did NOT just whimper!



He wanted more but was afraid to ask for it. As if reading his mind, Lupin withdrew the finger then began to rub around the entrance with a second one.



"Are you alright?"



Snape nodded silently, not confident in his own voice.



"Trust me Severus, I won\'t hurt you."



He pushed in with the second finger and Snape cried out. Not with pain, but with the aching need for more. Despite his experience to the contrary, this felt phenomenal. Lupin had magic fingers, even for a wizard, and Snape pushed back more forcefully, burying them to the knuckles.



"Oh Gods, Remus, just fuck me already."



There was a sharp rap on the door and both men looked up in shock.



Snape\'s arse hole clamped shut, all but pinching off Lupin\'s fingers. The door knob rattled and they could hear the jingling of keys.



"Please tell me you spelled it shut."



Lupin shrugged. "Maybe."



" Arrg, who\'s in there? What in the Queen\'s name is going on?" It was Filch. There were some seemingly unrelated curse words and more knob jiggling (by Filch).



Lupin snorted, trying to suppress a giggle. "Aye, lookit mee! I\'m Argus Filch!" he whispered in Snape\'s ear with his best Filch/pirate voice. "I\'m a crusty, old sea captain!"



Snape began to shush him, but had to clap a hand over his own mouth when Lupin\'s fingers began to move inside him again. "A janitor of the high seas! Would you like me to swab your poop deck?"



"Shut up!" hissed Snape, who then moaned as Lupin added a third digit. "H-He\'ll hear you."



"Not if he hears you first!" Lupin shifted his stance and positioned his still slick cock at Snape\'s arse. He spread his still buried fingers apart and used them to guide himself in.



Snape let out a low, guttural moan and stiffened beneath him. It hurt, and felt good and it burned, oh Gods it burned, but it was also so real, and warm and so



HOLYFEKKING HUGE!



"Slow down, Lupin, you\'re breaking my arse in two!"



The shuffling behind the door stopped.



"Professor Snape?"



Oh for the love of fuck! Just AvKedav me already!



Lupin inched himself in a bit more, and brought an oily hand around to grasp Snape\'s achingly hard prick.



"Answer him," he prompted, dragging his hand down Snape\'s length.



"I certainly will not!" Snape whispered. "I am hoping that he will-OH GOD!" he cried as Lupin changed the angle of his trajectory and bumped up against Snape\'s prostate.



Filch knocked again.



"Professor? Are you okay in there?"



Snape\'s mouth worked wordlessly for a moment. "I-I\'m fine. It\'s just that-OH SHIT! I…I seem to have-GHRMMPH…fallen and erm…JESUS! I\'ve...impaled myself on something-GAHH!"



"Good heavens!" cried Filch, "I\'ll fetch Madam Pomfrey!"



"YES!" screamed Snape, "Oh shit, No! Don\'t!" Remus grabbed a handful of Snape\'s hair and tugged, biting the flesh on his neck while slamming his prick into his arse. "Oh fuck YES!"



Filch hesitated outside the door. "Well, make up your freakin\' mind," he whispered under his breath. "Yes or no? Professor Snape?"



Lupin tugged again on Snape\'s hair and pressed into his arse with greater urgency. His breath was becoming ragged and his hand began to work Snape\'s prick with new insistence.



"Oh Gods, Severus, you feel so fucking good!" He grunted, shoving his hot tongue in Snape\'s ear. "Pretend it\'s my mouth on your arse."



"Oooooh shit!" moaned Snape, his balls contracting, rising up to his body. "Ooooooh, ooooooh SHIT! GUH!"



Filch banged on the door with both hands. "Professor? Are you bleeding?"



"Pretend it\'s my mouth on your cock," he whispered, shoving his tongue even further in Snape\'s ear. "Pretend you\'re fucking my hot, tight arse."



"Oh! Oh! JesusGodohshit YES!"



"Professor?"



"Pretend I\'m a whore and you can\'t fuck me hard enough." He sucked greedily on Snape\'s earlobe.



"OH GOD! OH GOD!"



"PROFESSOR?!?"



Snape\'s body stiffened, locked on the plateau of his climax.



"Pretend," said Lupin, an evil lilt to his voice, "that you\'re fucking Argus Filch!"



"AARRG—GUHFF-UUUNNGH!" Snape cried, spurting great strings of come all over the porcelain sink and Lupin\'s fist. Lupin came as well, in a fit of giggles and his prick was still pulsing out his seed when Snape pulled away, flapping his arms in disgust.



"Good Christ man, what\'s wrong with you? That was so…" He shuddered with revulsion, "NOT RIGHT!"



Lupin collapsed against the wall smiling, utterly spent but obviously amused with himself.



Filch was still banging on the door, but the two men ignored him.



"You\'re sick!" cried Snape, pushing the still chuckling Remus back towards the wall. "Absolutely ghastly! And now what am I supposed to do about him?" he asked, jerking a thumb towards the door.



"Well, you could always Obliviate him with your licorice stick!"



"Honestly!" said Snape, hands balled into fists, "you are utterly…impossible!" He moved to shove him again, but Remus caught his arms and pulled him close, kissing him deeply. Snape stopped struggling and kissed him back, the problem of Filch sliding down a notch on his priority list.



After a moment the door banging began anew and Lupin broke the kiss, rubbing his nose along Snape\'s more prominent one, then nuzzling his cheek.



"Tell you what," he said evenly, "clean yourself up and I\'ll take care of the \'Crusty Custodian.\'"



Snape nodded in agreement and went about finding his trousers.



When he exited the broom closet a short time later, he passed Filch in the corridor cheerily mopping (swabbing) away.



"Night, Professor," he said, tipping an imaginary cap.



"Likewise," Snape replied, trying not to smile as he walked past. "Sweet dreams, me hardys," he added under his breath.







The next day was Saturday, and thank Circe it was a Hogsmeade weekend for the students. Breakfast was always louder and more rambunctious than usual as the swirl of childish excitement mixed with the toxic volcano of pre-pubescent hormones.



But Snape found the din to be a bearable evil when it held the promise of a quiet and relatively brat-free afternoon. He made a mental note to brew some Anti-Vomitus Potion for those students who had too ready an appetite for Honeydukes and Butterbeer.



Hmm...perhaps some spot cleaner potion as well…just in case.



He had just settled in for a quiet afternoon of marking papers when there was a loud banging on his office door. He could tell it was Malfoy even before reaching for the handle, but it was hard to decide which gave him away most--his cologne or his high-pitched whinging.



Honestly, what third-year wears cologne?



When he swung the door open, it took every ounce of his self-control and spy-acquired, neutral façade to not grab his sides and burst out laughing.



Draco was dripping wet and covered in mud. Tears and snot had left clean tracks down his filthy cheeks, giving him the distinct appearance of a second-rate rodeo clown.



"Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy."



Draco took a deep breath, full of smart retorts, but instead burst into a new bout of tears.



If Snape had any inclination to sweep him up in his arms and comfort the boy, he was blissfully unaware of it. He stood impassively until the boy regained his composure, and then addressed him again.



"Mr. Malfoy, you seem to have a little something on your cheek," he said, pointing to the boy\'s mud-soaked face. This sent him into a fresh round of sobs, these ones even more forced and affected than the ones before.



"Well, then," said Snape, grasping the door, "if there\'s nothing else, I have work to do."



"P-P-Potter…Hogsmeade!" Draco finally managed, dragging an obscenely expensive, silk sleeve across his snotty face.



"Don\'t be ridiculous," said Snape, although he held the door aloft, "Potter was not allowed in Hogsmeade this weekend."



"Exactly!" Draco shouted triumphantly, "but he was! Or…at least…his head was!"



"His head?" Snape\'s eyes narrowed. "It wasn\'t, perchance, on the end of a stick?" he asked, hopefully. Draco shook his head. "Pity." Snape lost himself in the beautiful daydream for a moment, then realized that Draco was still staring at him expectantly.



"Well, go on, boy! Go wash up, you\'re sullying my threshold!"



Potter\'s head in Hogsmeade, we\'ll see about this. Perhaps an expulsion would brighten this dreary day.