AN - In an alternative universe, far, far away from the dreaded epilogue, where things went quite differently from about PoA..

This contains a few naughty words, innuendo, very light slash and very bad poetry. If you are going to squick at boys kissing, go back.

Remus was nervous, but he supposed that was to be expected. Pushing his boundaries and suchlike. His therapist was making him work on ways of increasing his self-confidence and expressing his true feelings. As opposed to being a doormat and always saying what he thought would make the most people happy at any given time. And whose stupid idea had that been anyway? Those tactics had worked perfectly fine for years. Remus grumbled to himself, he knew exactly whose idea it was. He loved Hermione and he was grateful for her help...

But he hated that she always gave him homework.

He couldn't put it off much longer, or he would tuck his tail in and run off to find somewhere to hide. Gryffindor or not.

He arranged his equipment on the thin strip of pavement and began with the part of his plan he was sure of and comfortable with. He began setting up wards. Lots of wards. Very complex wards. He didn't want an audience of more than one this evening after all. Eventually, he admitted to himself that he was stalling again. There probably was not any real danger of thestrals stampeding along this street tonight, so no realistic reason to ward against it...

After a short rummage around in the pockets of his transfigured robes, he found the charm he had been given along with the borrowed piece of muggle equipment that he had been assured was absolutely necessary. He was not sure his arms were strong enough to hold it over his head for four minutes and forty seconds, but maybe he wouldn't have to hold it like that the whole time. Perhaps he could balance it on his head?

With a quick lumos, he lit his wand tip. The street lighting in this part of town was terrible and he needed to read the charm again before he cast it. Or maybe he just told himself he needed to? Oh well, it didn't hurt to be sure. He cast the spell and it worked perfectly. He got the boombox (stupid name, he thought) above his head, just as the drums kicked in. It was quite a bit louder than Remus had anticipated, he nearly dropped the infernal thing in shock. She hadn't told him how to do anything about that either.

However, it meant that it did not take long for the curtains in the house to stir and a face to appear. Then the window opened.

Remus decided that he had to rest the thing on his head, or he really would drop it. The face in the window was wearing a look that was probably supposed to be unreadable, but actually asked quite clearly what the bloody hell Remus thought he was doing making a scene on the street.

"in your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete"

Remus felt his face flush, knew he was turning fire engine red and tried very hard not to compound it all by starting to sweat. He let the song play to the end, then carefully put the boombox on the ground.

It was time to begin the next phase. He took a deep breath and flung his scarf dramatically over his shoulder. He had wanted a ruff, but he hadn't been able to find one at short notice and Hermione had said that they were a bit too much like the cones for dogs who had been neutered, and he really didn't want to give anyone any ideas in that direction. So he was making do with his scarf. He was sure his face was clashing violently with it at the moment, but it couldn't be helped.

He struck his most theatrical pose and declaimed;

"There once was a man from Cokeworth,
who was not well known for his great mirth,
but the queue, it was long,
for a ride on his schlong,
for he was blessed with a cock of immense girth."

Severus Snape raised his eyebrow.

"Granger gave you homework again, didn't she?"

"Weasley." Remus corrected.

"Stupid chit." Said Severus. "Get in here you daft Gryffindork, before you catch a cold and I have to brew pepper-up on top of everything else you require to keep your skinny hide half-way healthy."

Remus gathered his belongings and bounded happily up to the front door. Severus opened it and stepped aside to allow Remus and his burden inside.

"Why didn't you go with the original version?" He asked, casting a finite incantatem at Remus to get rid of the frankly pervy-looking trench coat.

"Because I know you were secretly a new waver." Remus grinned, depositing everything in a heap on the living floor.

"Hmm," said Severus, not bothering to deny it, concentrating instead on looking deeply disapproving of the stuff cluttering up his living room. "And did Granger approve that, and I hesitate to use the word but nothing else is appropriate either, poem? Or just tell you to write one?" He asked.

"It's a limerick. Not much rhymes with Cokeworth."

"For such an intelligent man, you can be incredibly dense. I doubt that it has created the atmosphere she was aiming for."

"How do you know what she was aiming for?"

"Well, I think she was hoping for intimate, but you have just gotten yourself a night of celibacy for daring to refer to my manhood as a 'schlong'."

"You could write me one and show me how it's done properly." Remus put on his most adoring smile.

Severus smirked. "I can think of something that almost rhymes with Remus." He shook his head. "Nice try, but your idea of sneaky is just too damned glaringly obvious. If you wanted poetry, you should have married someone else." But he pulled his werewolf tightly against his chest and kissed him deeply.

"You don't object to cock?" Asked Remus, when he was released and had his breath back.

"You know perfectly well that I have no objections to cock." He replied, with an eyebrow lewdly raised. "You have no need to worry about 'the queue' Remus, you are the only one with a ticket to ride."

Remus let out a sigh against his husband's scarred neck. It was fortunate that he always knew what was really bothering Remus.

"It is still suspended until tomorrow though." Said Severus, evilly and watched the pout form on his beloved werewolf's face.

AN the second - I am quite sure that 'schlong' is not a british slang term, and I disapprove of it heartily too.

Remus is using the SR-71's cover of "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel. It is good.

In my headcanon Severus is always a new waver. He is too goth to have been anything else at that time in Britain.