Snape, given the lead role in another "Little Theater at Hogwarts" production read though the old screenplay. He read it once, twice and on the third time was barely able to finish it. He hated it.
The author was long dead. Snape decided right there on the spot to re-write the whole damned thing and no one would dare tell him that he could not. Minerva, who had handed him the play days earlier, had said, lips pressed thin, "Behave yourself, Severus." He now knew exactly what she had meant.
Snape had literally locked himself in the theater. He sat up a desk in the middle of the stage, lit a candelabrum, and sat there at that desk for hours, re-working the screenplay. He loved the characters, hated the play; a true love-hate relationship and it was making him crazy.
As the hours passed, Snape continued his work on the script, scratching out whole sentences and hastily writing in new ones; only to scratch them out as well.
"I'm not sure how to play this character," groused Snape to himself, "He's a grumpy, lonely old man who's never had a friend."
"I can't imagine," answered Lupin. Snape jumped and shot a look at the unwelcome intruder. Lupin slyly grinned back.
"How'd you get in here?" demanded Snape.
Lupin looked at him and answered in his "you've-got-to-be-kidding" tone. "Pllleeease" replied Lupin, rolling his eyes.
Walking over to the desk, Lupin looked down at the script. "Want some advice?"
"No."
As if Snape hadn't answered at all, Lupin continued, "Think about how the characters end up. At the end of the play what do you want them to say to each other?"
Snape looked back at him. "What the hell do you mean, man?"
"What," Lupin said, stressing each word, "do they say to each other?" Snape blankly looked up at him from his tattered desk.
Exasperated, Lupin continued. "I love you? I want you? I need you? I *own* you. You scare me. You intimidate me. You inspire me. Touch me. Teach me. Kill me. Leave me alone. What do they say!?"
Lupin's voice had grown increasing louder and Snape had unconsciously leaned back in his chair; quite unprepared for the intensity this trespasser was showing.
Lupin leaned down towards Snape so that their faces were close. Lupin reached out and touched Snape's face and repeated it again, only much softer, "I love you. I want you. I own..."
"That's enough!" spat Snape. "I think I get it!"
Laughing and shaking his head, Lupin stepped away. "Ok. Think about it. Decide how the characters speak to each other at the end of the play. Then write the middle, then write the beginning. Do it backwards. You know, like Shakespeare, only different."
Snape sat there staring open-mouthed at Lupin as he turned and walked off the stage. Half in disbelieve, half in awe, Snape realized he just might be in way over his head. "I'm re-writing this awful play?" thought Snape. Gads!
But, pulling out blank parchment, he began again, at the bottom of the page, brow furrowed, mouth in a stern frown. From far stage left, Lupin watched his friend work and smiled, thinking to himself, "That will keep him busy for a while!"
For three days Lupin did not hear from Snape. Was he eating? Sleeping? Was he even alive? That damned fool. Lupin felt shut out and fought the urge to feel sorry for his friend. Snape was always so damned tenacious. Snape would finish this play even if it killed him. Lupin would be damned if he went back out to that theater and offered his help.
**
Later that third day Lupin's owl interrupted an afternoon nap. Fluttering and nipping at Lupin's elbow it awoke him with a start and presented a scrawny leg with a small piece of parchment tied to it. The same type parchment Snape was using to work on the play, Lupin thought. That old ass needed his help, Lupin thought to himself, grinning.
"Meet me at 6:30 tonight." The note read, "I want you to work though this play with me. - Severus."
Normally, Lupin would have rolled his eyes in amusement, but the fact that Snape had signed the note with his first name made the note, well, touching; as if its author was weary or worn down. Lupin felt a pang of compassion. There was no way he'd be late tonight.
At 6:30, Lupin entered the back of the stage quietly. He heard sounds of things being moved around and as he approached, the stage came into full view. Snape had set up a mini-scene, a living room. How strange.
"Come in." Instructed Snape.
"What am I doing?" asked Lupin, still looking around at the "home style" scene before him.
"You can wait." Answered Snape.
Lupin approached the grotesquely flowered sofa and sat down on it. It was as ugly as sin and twice as comfortable. "All ugly sofas", Dumbledore had once stated, "are comfortable." Smiling to himself, he remembered that Dumbledore made that statement when Snape had sarcastically asked him "Is there ANYTHING you're sure of?"
The script lay out in front of Lupin on a coffee table and Lupin leaned forward to pick it up, but Snape snatched it up. "Hands off. I'll tell you what to do."
"Oh, joy," muttered Lupin.
Snape sternly stared at Lupin, effectively staring him down. Snape could do that to his students and to others as well, apparently.
Snape walked over and stood beside a fake door leading out of the makeshift living room. He looked at Lupin who was intently watching him.
"You want to leave." Said Snape roughly.
It took a second or two for Lupin to catch on. This was a Director's Instruction, not a question or even a statement. Lupin, after that moment of hesitation, stood, walked towards the door and said, not looking at Snape, "I'm out of here."
Snape stepped sideways a half step effectively blocking the door.
"Where do you think you're going?" asked Snape in a low, menacing growl.
"I'm not needed here," replied Lupin, reaching for the doorknob. "You're in my way, Snape."
"That's right where you like me, isn't it?" asked Snape, continuing in the same menacing voice.
Lupin looked up into Snape's face, their eyes making contact. It was then that Lupin became certain that they were writing the play now. THEY WERE WRITING THE PLAY NOW. Anything he did, said, felt, would become part of the play. Oh, Lord, this was going to be fun.
The two men stood there glaring at each other and Lupin took a step closer so that he was standing almost nose-to-nose to Snape, who was still blocking the door. Slightly rocking up on his toes to meet the taller Snape, Lupin hissed, "Don't push me."
Snape had a cold sneer on his face. "Isn't that what you want? A push? A wakeup call, perhaps? Maybe a little passion in that washed-out gray life of yours?"
Lupin, getting into the role, snorted, broke eye contact, and reached for the doorknob again. Snape repositioned himself sending the message clearly: he was not going to move.
"What the hell do you want?" asked Lupin through gritted teeth. He never talked to anyone like this and quite enjoyed playing the angry dark one.
"I want you to wake up," replied Snape. "Wake up from your naps, step away from your buttoned-up robes and starched collars. Try getting a little angry once in a while; at least that's an emotion."
Lupin stepped back. It felt like it was getting a little personal. He blinked and then straightened up showing his resolve.
Lupin said evenly, "I'm getting mad now. You don't want me angry, you annoying shit. Now...back...off."
Snape grinned, stepped way from the door and allowed Lupin to grab the knob, turn it, and open the door an inch.
When he did, Snape moved in behind Lupin pressing him up against the door slamming it shut once again. Lupin was trapped between Snape and the door, face pressed against the cold wood.
Lupin was out of breath; not expecting the maneuver. Snape was pressing him against the door. Neither of them was saying a word.
Snape leaned down breathing hot breath onto the back of Lupin's neck. Lupin squeezed his eyes shut willing himself not too gasp, but a tremble moved through his body and he opened his mouth taking in a quick gulp of air.
Snape grinned, amused.
Snape moved his mouth close to his captive's ear, brushing it softly with his lips. Breathing slow even waves of hot air past Lupin's ear, down his cheek, onto his neck. Snape bent his head and pressed his lips down onto the muscled shoulder enticing another shudder from Lupin.
Lips that were pressed against Lupin's shoulder, where the neck met the collar, turned into teeth that bit. Not a hard bite, but one hard enough that caused Lupin's knees to almost buckle.
Smiling, Snape continued to move his lips along that strong, manly neck, licking and nipping. All the while pressing his own body tightly against Lupin's.
"Do you have any idea..." gasped Lupin..."what you are getting yourself into?"
"I'm hoping it's worse than I expect," teased Snape, continuing to bite.
Lupin tried to turn around, but Snape held him there biting harder into his shoulder, hands pinning his captive against the door. Marking Lupin as he whimpered.
"You are mine." Growled Snape.
Lupin, willing himself not to submit, pushed his butt back against Snape trying to push him way; that's when he felt it; that Hard Heat. He paused, not knowing quite what to do next.
Sensing the pause, Snape backed off and allowed Lupin to turn around and face him. Lupin started to reach up a trembling hand to touch Snape's face, but Snape grabbed the hand, and then the other and pinned him against the door again. This time grinding his hard cock into Lupin's groin. Snape stopped and slyly grinned when he discovered Lupin was in the same condition as he.
Snape's restarted the grinding. Still pinning Lupin's hands back, he started to bite and kiss Lupin's neck. He kissed his mouth, ravishing it.
Twice Lupin tried to say something, but Snape would not allow it. Snape was fully consumed in passion.
"Don't...don't...don't..." stammered Lupin between rough kisses.
Finally hearing these words, Snape stopped himself, ashamed of his assault and looked into his captive's eyes.
"For god's sake," stammered Lupin, "don't stop!"
Smiling, Snape leaned in whispering into Lupin's ear, "Not even a dark spell from Voldemort himself could stop me now."
Snape released Lupin's hands. Instantly Lupin's hands went to Snape's hips, pulling him roughly into Lupin's embrace. Leaning heavily against the door, fully clothed, these two men thrust at each other like animals. Growling and cursing and gasping until they both exploded at the same time with one final blinding thrust. The final thrust was Snape's and it sent them both flying through the living room door, breaking it.
Landing roughly on the stage floor they both looked sheepishly at each other then at the door swinging crazily on the broken hinges of the frame.
After a few minutes, they both slowly began to regain their composure. Cocking an eyebrow, Lupin glanced at his wild lover and asked, "So...what do the characters say to each other at the end of the play, Severus?"
"Time to get a new door." Replied Snape gruffly.
-fin
The author was long dead. Snape decided right there on the spot to re-write the whole damned thing and no one would dare tell him that he could not. Minerva, who had handed him the play days earlier, had said, lips pressed thin, "Behave yourself, Severus." He now knew exactly what she had meant.
Snape had literally locked himself in the theater. He sat up a desk in the middle of the stage, lit a candelabrum, and sat there at that desk for hours, re-working the screenplay. He loved the characters, hated the play; a true love-hate relationship and it was making him crazy.
As the hours passed, Snape continued his work on the script, scratching out whole sentences and hastily writing in new ones; only to scratch them out as well.
"I'm not sure how to play this character," groused Snape to himself, "He's a grumpy, lonely old man who's never had a friend."
"I can't imagine," answered Lupin. Snape jumped and shot a look at the unwelcome intruder. Lupin slyly grinned back.
"How'd you get in here?" demanded Snape.
Lupin looked at him and answered in his "you've-got-to-be-kidding" tone. "Pllleeease" replied Lupin, rolling his eyes.
Walking over to the desk, Lupin looked down at the script. "Want some advice?"
"No."
As if Snape hadn't answered at all, Lupin continued, "Think about how the characters end up. At the end of the play what do you want them to say to each other?"
Snape looked back at him. "What the hell do you mean, man?"
"What," Lupin said, stressing each word, "do they say to each other?" Snape blankly looked up at him from his tattered desk.
Exasperated, Lupin continued. "I love you? I want you? I need you? I *own* you. You scare me. You intimidate me. You inspire me. Touch me. Teach me. Kill me. Leave me alone. What do they say!?"
Lupin's voice had grown increasing louder and Snape had unconsciously leaned back in his chair; quite unprepared for the intensity this trespasser was showing.
Lupin leaned down towards Snape so that their faces were close. Lupin reached out and touched Snape's face and repeated it again, only much softer, "I love you. I want you. I own..."
"That's enough!" spat Snape. "I think I get it!"
Laughing and shaking his head, Lupin stepped away. "Ok. Think about it. Decide how the characters speak to each other at the end of the play. Then write the middle, then write the beginning. Do it backwards. You know, like Shakespeare, only different."
Snape sat there staring open-mouthed at Lupin as he turned and walked off the stage. Half in disbelieve, half in awe, Snape realized he just might be in way over his head. "I'm re-writing this awful play?" thought Snape. Gads!
But, pulling out blank parchment, he began again, at the bottom of the page, brow furrowed, mouth in a stern frown. From far stage left, Lupin watched his friend work and smiled, thinking to himself, "That will keep him busy for a while!"
For three days Lupin did not hear from Snape. Was he eating? Sleeping? Was he even alive? That damned fool. Lupin felt shut out and fought the urge to feel sorry for his friend. Snape was always so damned tenacious. Snape would finish this play even if it killed him. Lupin would be damned if he went back out to that theater and offered his help.
**
Later that third day Lupin's owl interrupted an afternoon nap. Fluttering and nipping at Lupin's elbow it awoke him with a start and presented a scrawny leg with a small piece of parchment tied to it. The same type parchment Snape was using to work on the play, Lupin thought. That old ass needed his help, Lupin thought to himself, grinning.
"Meet me at 6:30 tonight." The note read, "I want you to work though this play with me. - Severus."
Normally, Lupin would have rolled his eyes in amusement, but the fact that Snape had signed the note with his first name made the note, well, touching; as if its author was weary or worn down. Lupin felt a pang of compassion. There was no way he'd be late tonight.
At 6:30, Lupin entered the back of the stage quietly. He heard sounds of things being moved around and as he approached, the stage came into full view. Snape had set up a mini-scene, a living room. How strange.
"Come in." Instructed Snape.
"What am I doing?" asked Lupin, still looking around at the "home style" scene before him.
"You can wait." Answered Snape.
Lupin approached the grotesquely flowered sofa and sat down on it. It was as ugly as sin and twice as comfortable. "All ugly sofas", Dumbledore had once stated, "are comfortable." Smiling to himself, he remembered that Dumbledore made that statement when Snape had sarcastically asked him "Is there ANYTHING you're sure of?"
The script lay out in front of Lupin on a coffee table and Lupin leaned forward to pick it up, but Snape snatched it up. "Hands off. I'll tell you what to do."
"Oh, joy," muttered Lupin.
Snape sternly stared at Lupin, effectively staring him down. Snape could do that to his students and to others as well, apparently.
Snape walked over and stood beside a fake door leading out of the makeshift living room. He looked at Lupin who was intently watching him.
"You want to leave." Said Snape roughly.
It took a second or two for Lupin to catch on. This was a Director's Instruction, not a question or even a statement. Lupin, after that moment of hesitation, stood, walked towards the door and said, not looking at Snape, "I'm out of here."
Snape stepped sideways a half step effectively blocking the door.
"Where do you think you're going?" asked Snape in a low, menacing growl.
"I'm not needed here," replied Lupin, reaching for the doorknob. "You're in my way, Snape."
"That's right where you like me, isn't it?" asked Snape, continuing in the same menacing voice.
Lupin looked up into Snape's face, their eyes making contact. It was then that Lupin became certain that they were writing the play now. THEY WERE WRITING THE PLAY NOW. Anything he did, said, felt, would become part of the play. Oh, Lord, this was going to be fun.
The two men stood there glaring at each other and Lupin took a step closer so that he was standing almost nose-to-nose to Snape, who was still blocking the door. Slightly rocking up on his toes to meet the taller Snape, Lupin hissed, "Don't push me."
Snape had a cold sneer on his face. "Isn't that what you want? A push? A wakeup call, perhaps? Maybe a little passion in that washed-out gray life of yours?"
Lupin, getting into the role, snorted, broke eye contact, and reached for the doorknob again. Snape repositioned himself sending the message clearly: he was not going to move.
"What the hell do you want?" asked Lupin through gritted teeth. He never talked to anyone like this and quite enjoyed playing the angry dark one.
"I want you to wake up," replied Snape. "Wake up from your naps, step away from your buttoned-up robes and starched collars. Try getting a little angry once in a while; at least that's an emotion."
Lupin stepped back. It felt like it was getting a little personal. He blinked and then straightened up showing his resolve.
Lupin said evenly, "I'm getting mad now. You don't want me angry, you annoying shit. Now...back...off."
Snape grinned, stepped way from the door and allowed Lupin to grab the knob, turn it, and open the door an inch.
When he did, Snape moved in behind Lupin pressing him up against the door slamming it shut once again. Lupin was trapped between Snape and the door, face pressed against the cold wood.
Lupin was out of breath; not expecting the maneuver. Snape was pressing him against the door. Neither of them was saying a word.
Snape leaned down breathing hot breath onto the back of Lupin's neck. Lupin squeezed his eyes shut willing himself not too gasp, but a tremble moved through his body and he opened his mouth taking in a quick gulp of air.
Snape grinned, amused.
Snape moved his mouth close to his captive's ear, brushing it softly with his lips. Breathing slow even waves of hot air past Lupin's ear, down his cheek, onto his neck. Snape bent his head and pressed his lips down onto the muscled shoulder enticing another shudder from Lupin.
Lips that were pressed against Lupin's shoulder, where the neck met the collar, turned into teeth that bit. Not a hard bite, but one hard enough that caused Lupin's knees to almost buckle.
Smiling, Snape continued to move his lips along that strong, manly neck, licking and nipping. All the while pressing his own body tightly against Lupin's.
"Do you have any idea..." gasped Lupin..."what you are getting yourself into?"
"I'm hoping it's worse than I expect," teased Snape, continuing to bite.
Lupin tried to turn around, but Snape held him there biting harder into his shoulder, hands pinning his captive against the door. Marking Lupin as he whimpered.
"You are mine." Growled Snape.
Lupin, willing himself not to submit, pushed his butt back against Snape trying to push him way; that's when he felt it; that Hard Heat. He paused, not knowing quite what to do next.
Sensing the pause, Snape backed off and allowed Lupin to turn around and face him. Lupin started to reach up a trembling hand to touch Snape's face, but Snape grabbed the hand, and then the other and pinned him against the door again. This time grinding his hard cock into Lupin's groin. Snape stopped and slyly grinned when he discovered Lupin was in the same condition as he.
Snape's restarted the grinding. Still pinning Lupin's hands back, he started to bite and kiss Lupin's neck. He kissed his mouth, ravishing it.
Twice Lupin tried to say something, but Snape would not allow it. Snape was fully consumed in passion.
"Don't...don't...don't..." stammered Lupin between rough kisses.
Finally hearing these words, Snape stopped himself, ashamed of his assault and looked into his captive's eyes.
"For god's sake," stammered Lupin, "don't stop!"
Smiling, Snape leaned in whispering into Lupin's ear, "Not even a dark spell from Voldemort himself could stop me now."
Snape released Lupin's hands. Instantly Lupin's hands went to Snape's hips, pulling him roughly into Lupin's embrace. Leaning heavily against the door, fully clothed, these two men thrust at each other like animals. Growling and cursing and gasping until they both exploded at the same time with one final blinding thrust. The final thrust was Snape's and it sent them both flying through the living room door, breaking it.
Landing roughly on the stage floor they both looked sheepishly at each other then at the door swinging crazily on the broken hinges of the frame.
After a few minutes, they both slowly began to regain their composure. Cocking an eyebrow, Lupin glanced at his wild lover and asked, "So...what do the characters say to each other at the end of the play, Severus?"
"Time to get a new door." Replied Snape gruffly.
-fin