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hp_may_madnessTitle: It's Just Lust Part 14
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Word Count: 363
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Unbeta'd.
Challenge: Day 14 May Madness
Author's Notes: 14 Day, still hanging in there…wish I’d use a prompt or two.
Severus pushed his food around his plate. Welsh-rarebit Wednesdays had lost their appeal when the house-elves had switched the cheese from a Y Fenni cheese to a sharp cheddar due to a labor dispute amongst Welsh house-elves. In truth, all he really wanted was a little undisturbed time so he could wank.
Remus had, previously, been confined to occupying his mind during waking hours, as of last night the werewolf had invaded his dreams as well. Actually, several were dreams and one was a replay of their most recent encounter. He’d awakened hard and oh so ready Tuesday morning, but had slept through his alarm and was hard pressed to manage a quick shower before breakfast. It was, also, his to supervise detention which had been interminable with an unprecedented number of miscreants in attendance. He flopped into his bed afterwards and was asleep in mere moments.
This morning he had been up a few minutes before his alarm. All of him was up and ready to go, now. He no sooner wrapped his hand around his prick when he was interrupted by a frantic rapping on his door. He pulled on pants to hold himself in, then shrugged into a nightshirt and dressing gown. After he had quelled the near riot in the common room, the girls had pranked the boys he returned to his rooms. It was less than ten minutes until breakfast. He cast a cleansing spell on his hair and preceded to swear at each and every one of his buttons as he dressed.
The pudding finally arrived. Severus closed his eyes and steadied himself. Spotted dick with custard. Perfect. The pudding didn’t resemble a prick, but the custard and what that resembled was another story. His own dick swelled at the sight. He squirmed slightly. This was not good. He couldn’t very well stick his hand into his trousers to adjust himself. His best play had been to plaster a frightening sneer across his face, hope the his waistcoat covered the bulge in his trousers and that he didn’t walk as if he had something stuck up his arse. Which, by the way, was exactly what he wanted.
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Word Count: 363
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Unbeta'd.
Challenge: Day 14 May Madness
Author's Notes: 14 Day, still hanging in there…wish I’d use a prompt or two.
Severus pushed his food around his plate. Welsh-rarebit Wednesdays had lost their appeal when the house-elves had switched the cheese from a Y Fenni cheese to a sharp cheddar due to a labor dispute amongst Welsh house-elves. In truth, all he really wanted was a little undisturbed time so he could wank.
Remus had, previously, been confined to occupying his mind during waking hours, as of last night the werewolf had invaded his dreams as well. Actually, several were dreams and one was a replay of their most recent encounter. He’d awakened hard and oh so ready Tuesday morning, but had slept through his alarm and was hard pressed to manage a quick shower before breakfast. It was, also, his to supervise detention which had been interminable with an unprecedented number of miscreants in attendance. He flopped into his bed afterwards and was asleep in mere moments.
This morning he had been up a few minutes before his alarm. All of him was up and ready to go, now. He no sooner wrapped his hand around his prick when he was interrupted by a frantic rapping on his door. He pulled on pants to hold himself in, then shrugged into a nightshirt and dressing gown. After he had quelled the near riot in the common room, the girls had pranked the boys he returned to his rooms. It was less than ten minutes until breakfast. He cast a cleansing spell on his hair and preceded to swear at each and every one of his buttons as he dressed.
The pudding finally arrived. Severus closed his eyes and steadied himself. Spotted dick with custard. Perfect. The pudding didn’t resemble a prick, but the custard and what that resembled was another story. His own dick swelled at the sight. He squirmed slightly. This was not good. He couldn’t very well stick his hand into his trousers to adjust himself. His best play had been to plaster a frightening sneer across his face, hope the his waistcoat covered the bulge in his trousers and that he didn’t walk as if he had something stuck up his arse. Which, by the way, was exactly what he wanted.
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