A/N: Okay, I should be doing some serious work for university, but there was one thing on my mind that kept my thoughts spinning around. Years ago there was a spot for a fizzy drink with some kind of handsome man. The plot's easy to tell, the guy showed up regularly 'round high noon at that office and stripped off his shirt just to drink his canned brown sugared drink with all the secretaries drooling over him. You remember, don't you? What if that spot was shot at a special school for wizardry and witchcraft and featured some handsome.... er, Potions Master? Kinky idea? Probably yes, but I don't care at all, I blame it on that single parents study and on Alan Rickman for making Snape so damn... (Fill in whatever thought flashed through your naughty, naughty mind, don't censor here! I cannot simply write what I first thought - I am just too shy, so I came down to) ... adorable. (-:
Pairing(s): McGonagall/Snape, Hooch/Snape
Rating: R (First I thought, this could end up as G. I couldn't bring myself to it to keep from writing down these naughty lines - only natural when Snape is involved...)
Summary: Minerva McGonagall muses over the Potions Master's daily routine in the break in the staff room...
Disclaimer: Simply not fair, JKR owns all these characters from HP, I only borrowed them and will return them safe.
Dedication: For Kathrin W. who's cooking such a fine coffee - even without cinnamon! I am sure, the surly Potions Master's severity would melt in seconds. (-: For Suzy, for being my constant source of inspiration by sharing *THESE* thoughts with me. And for Steffi S. - I assume, the general quote "upside down" means not exactly *THAT*. But as you had no personal assistant to help you dealing with fire, I cannot really blame you. scnr Last but not least A.W. - go attend the "creative writers course" yourself! VEG
Can't beat the feeling...
Every day it's the same spectacle in the staff room. I must admit, I enjoy it every day thoroughly and only for *this* reason I see for it that I end my classes *in time*, though *in time* not exactly means according to the lesson's agenda.
I open the door and know that I am the first to be there. The hands of the clock tell, it's seven to twelve. Seven minutes that are worth the waiting, every single second of it. I walk over to my place, my eyes fixed on his chair and the spare place on the table he occupies with the belongings he stores there. A pile of books, a quill and a bottle with black ink, several small vials and jars and the green porcelain mug with the silver snake, his Slytherin coffee mug, a present from the staff for his last birthday.
Sighing I sit down at my place and put down my books, trying to pretend being busy with preparations for the afternoon class. How could I focus on transfigurations when I know that only six minutes ahead such a scene is going to unfold before my eyes?
I open my books and the door flies open, Sybil comes in and I can watch her staring at his belongings - just like I did a minute ago - while she walks over to her place next to mine. She sits down and we exchange knowing gazes before we both return to our pretended preparations.
The next to arrive are most of the times Albus in company of Remus. I can hear them discussing loudly in front of the door, but the moment the door slides open and reveals the sight of *The Mug* to them they go mute for an instant, sizing up the mug with a mixture of amazement and delight, then they go back to their conversation. They sit down and talk, but they seem to be utterly distracted. From time to time the gaze of one of them drifts off and scans the room, only to be miraculously stopped by the green mug with the silver snake.
A minute to twelve almost all the chairs are occupied, almost all. Two neighboured chairs are still empty. Chuckles and laughter and the sound of animated conversation fills the room, until the door is opened. The conversation stops, though we all know it's not the *main attraction* yet. Hooch enters and raises her brow, confused by the silence and curious looks at her. Letting out a naughty line she walks over to her chair and the conversations continue.
The hands of the clock turn to two past twelve and the door swings open. Appearance of the Potions Master we've all been waiting for. The conversations stop and whispers are exchanged while he walks over to his chair. Pairs of curious eyes follow his every motion, and it's not only the women teachers that stare and drool over him.
"He's looking quite *exhausted*."
"Surly, but so *adorable*..."
"He forgot to shave that morning." - "But it looks *sexy* on him."
"He should go to the *hairdresser* again."
"Ohmygodsosexy."
"*Cold* showers!"
His black robes are billowing about him and so do a few obstinate strands of his long black hair that floats around his aristocratic-featured face. With a sigh he slumps himself into his chair. An *unbelievable* casual and confusing lazy-lithe movement that makes my loins twitch at times. His eyes are closed and his lips part slightly as he releases the softest of moans. A sound of exhaustion, or disgust, depending on the class he had. For a moment he keeps perfectly still and the conversations are picked up again as it becomes obvious how we stare.
But though everybody goes back to the conversation or the important preparations, *everybody* keeps *one* eye on him at least, and so do I.
He runs his right hand through his hair and tucks a strand of that dark, *living silk* behind his right ear. But the hand does not stop there, these slender fingers travel towards the chin, down along his exposed neck. His palm slides across his throat and ends up at his collar, where his second hand joins and skilled fingers undo the top buttons of his waistcoat and shirt, revealing more of that deliciously pale skin. While I catch myself murmuring the mantra day after day after day: "*Don't* stop there, *don't* stop there..."
At that point I feel myself shiver and tearing my eyes apart from that arousing view I meet Sybil's eyes which reflect all the *naughty* things that flashed through my mind and instantly I blush.
Once recovered and embolded by her half smile my gaze returns to him.
He rubs his temples and his lids flow open. Two black orbs scan the desk, he's looking for the coffee. Well, sometimes I make sure, there won't be any left. In defence I have to say, the way he murmurs the spell to fill his cup makes my skin creep, I was *putty* in his hands *if* he talked to me like that - with no one else around...
"Oh damn, isn't there no coffee left?" His dark rich voice sounds and instantly twelve pairs of curious eyes turn his direction and twelve heads shake a no.
With a muffled growl he pulls out his *wand* and pointing at his mug he conjurs a portion of the black steaming fluid.
That's the point where *even* *Remus Lupin* nervously shift on his chair. Sometimes I don't watch the main attraction, but the audience. Not today, today I watch him.
His *slender fingers* elegantly wind around the grip of the mug he slowly lifts up to his mouth. Pursing his sensual lips he blows at the steaming fluid and my mind adds various other occasions these lips would look like that. Of course these thoughts do *not really* help me to relax, but who am I to resist this view?
Finally the coffee seems to be cold enough to be digested and carefully he puts the brim of the mug to his lips. With little sips he swallows and places the mug back on the table.
"I'd give *anything* to be in the place of that cup just for once." Sybil says as she leans closer to me and smiles a smut smile. I can't resist to follow that given and make a mental note to check the library for a special transfiguration book. Animagus or not, to be the brim of the cup for once to be *touched* by *these lips*... What a life, I envy a simple coffee mug!
He picks a book and starts reading. With one hand he holds the book in front of his chest while the other lingers at the grip of the mug. His mimic is focussed, his eyes follow the lines. From time to time he gives a slight nod, agreeing with the author. Sometimes the left brow arches, or a furrow appears between the brows, whenever he disagrees and he slightly shakes his head.
Then he picks up the mug and guides it to his lips, never taking his eyes off from the book. He moves the cup slowly to his head, his lips pursed, carefully reaching for the mug. Sometimes he forgets to put down the mug and the hand stills in the middle of the motion, hovers inches above the table.
At times, rarely, very rarely there appears the touch of a smile around the corners of his mouth. Not quite a smile, only the hint of one. Probably whenever he's amused about something he read and knows better than the author of the book.
He places down the mug and starts to move his index finger in a circle along the brim of the cup. His head is hidden behind the book and he obviously has no idea that the female staff fancies these fingers dancing in the same way over their naked skin ... in a more *private* atmosphere. I know that they *do*, as for the rest of the male staff I cannot tell. There are *various rumors* about Remus... By the way his eyes are sticking to the potions master while his daily procedure like the female's eyes I dare to say *these* rumors are true.
Several throats are cleared the same time and he immediately stops the motions of his hand. He slightly drops the book, about an inch only. Enough to let his eyes wander to the left and the right, wondering if he missed something. His eyes are narrowed and the gaze is almost piercing. I bear to stand that gaze for an instant only, then I cast down my eyes, pretending to focus on the book in front of me again.
As I look up again from under my lids he suspiciuosly sizes up a crimson-blushed Remus. After a second he seems to be convinced there's nothing to wonder about and he returns to his reading. He picks up his cup and the moment he puts it to his lips there's a sharp knock at the door. Startled he spills some of the coffee over himself and the desk. Thirteen heads turn to the door and Albus calls the visitor in, as the door is opened it turns out to be Hagrid.
"Could you, just for once knock as if you weren't a stupid git, Hagrid?" Snape snarls and instinctively I turn to him. Coffee drips from his chin, flows down along his neck and is spilled over his books and rolls of parchment. I can't focus on what Hagrid replies in excuse, nor do I exactly hear Albus' soothing words to calm him.
I am simply *mesmerized* by the view of the brown fluid that covers his chin and flows down his throat. And by the dangerous angry sparkle in his eyes. A vision unfolds before my very eye.
~I'm leaning over the table and grab his lapels with both hands, steadying him, his hot breath brushing my neck. Lowering my head I nip his chin and taste the coffee-covered skin. My hands quickly undo the buttons of his waistcoat and he moans. But he keeps still as I slowly lick off the coffee off his cheeks and he willingly tilts his head to the side to give me better access to his throat. His hands travel down along my neck towards my shoulders, pulling me *closer* and trying to shove the robe down my shoulders. Somehow I manage to climb onto the table and shifting I come to sit on the edge. His frame is captured between my legs and as he moves closer into my embrace I can feel his arousal. Leaning down he fumbles at the fastenings of my robe and his lips cover mine. Hungrily he kisses me, his mouth tasting bitter from the coffee. He urges me to give in and gently pushes me onto my back. Willingly I give in and feel his tender hand find a way into my shirt. His warm palm and curious fingertips exploring my skin, making me moan into his mouth...~
Shivering I'm coming to my senses, back in the crowded staff room. Blinking my eyes I try to sort out where I am and realize that Hooch is carefully wiping off the coffee of Snape's throat and cheeks. It takes me *an instant* to sort it out. By the way he keeps still and allows her to tilt back his head, I suddenly *realize*. For an instant jealousy stings me, but then I think that she might be *exactly* what he *deserves* - whatever that's supposed to mean.
Turning my head from the happy couple I meet Albus' gaze, his face brightened with a more than *smut* expression. As he notices my look his smile softens and his blue eyes start to sparkle.
Before I can act on that, Sybil nudges my side and I hear her whisper: "Did you know about them?!"
Honestly I reply that I didn't and as I look up I notice the hands of the clock mercilessly moved on and it's time to go back to the next class. Chairs are shoved back, piles of books picked up and robes smoothened. Feet shuffle over the stone floor towards the door and the room quickly empties.
From the corners of my eyes I watch Hooch place a small kiss on Snape's cheek and even catch her whispered: "Probably we should try coffee instead of cream." His reply is a raised brow and as I head for the door and wonder if that's a yes or no, a familiar soft voice whispers into my ear: "Could I have a... *word* with you *tonight*? We should... *talk* about the curricula for the next year, Minerva." I turn and find Albus smiling at me. His eyes still carry that sparkle he showed when he stared at me moments ago.
"Actually I..." I start, "Actually I planned to correct some homework this evening to have it done before the weekend."
He chuckles, as the door closes behind us and we're standing in the empty corridor he leans closer. "I may even provide some *coffee*, if that convinces you to change your plans..."
The end
A/N: Snape drank caffeine-free coffee with neither sugar nor cream (the cream's used for other things as Hooch mentioned, *whatever* she wanted to hint with that line, you can see it as soon as you close your eyes...). You didn't really expect him to drink a coke, ladies? I mean, he's the *potions master* and should know that too much sugar's not really healthy.
But maybe one day he might. In summer, when it's hot and Albus Dumbledore finally agrees that there's a soft drink machine in the staff room.
Or he might have a chocolate bar - chocolate covered sweet and sticky caramel - in the break, one that's almost *melting* and already *sticky* and all the chocolate sticks to his *slender fingers* and almost all the staff nearly swoons away as he *lazily licks* his fingers clean... Okay, okay, I'll stop here, but you got the point?
By the way, the coffee Albus provided was with sugar and cream, because *he* was *not* able to hear Hooch's line about the cream so he didn't know about the *other* use of cream. If he managed to aim the goal the sparkle in his eyes reflected - I leave it to your imagination.