Why Choreographers Should Never Wear Spandex, or Why Severus Snape Hates Cats
Title: Why Choreographers Should Never Wear Spandex, or Why Severus Snape Hates Cats
Author: thescarletwoman
Requestor: soberloki
Claim: Severus Snape, choreographer for the new London cast of Cats
Rating: Hard R (for gratuitous spandex)
Summary: AU. Remus Lupin finds himself the director of the new production of Cats. And there's no choreographer in the business better than Severus Snape.
Warnings (if applicable): Slash. And the making fun of various shows and tenors.
Notes: There are snippets of quotes taken from various other sources, the most noticible being from Family Guy and The Producers. Thanks to rose_whispers for the beta and the hand holding. Any other mistakes are my own. The characters belong to JRK and I'm just stealing them for a bit.
"Not on your life."
Click.
Remus sat in his office, staring at the buzzing receiver in his hand. Sighing, he re-dialled the number for the fourth time.
"You cannot honestly turn this down," Remus said quickly, skipping all preambles.
"Can and will."
Click.
Grumbling and muttering obscenities under his breath, Remus re-dialled the phone a final time. He was nothing if not tenacious. Besides, who in their right mind would turn down a once in a lifetime opportunity to choreograph the revival of Cats in the West End?
"Will you leave me alone, Lupin? I already --"
"The contract will be drawn up tomorrow," Remus interrupted. "Auditions are in two weeks at the Drury Lane Theatre. You will be there, even if I bodily drag you there myself."
Click.
This time it was one Severus Snape who sat back in his chair holding a buzzing receiver and calling Remus Lupin a bastard in every language he knew. He stopped once he finished going through the forms in Ancient Greek, Latin and was just beginning to see the Cuneiform runes in his head.
He had the sinking suspicion he had just been screwed with his trousers on.
~*~
The auditions weren't much better than a root canal in Severus' mind. However, at least a root canal would have involved novocaine. He had no such drugs, save for the valium he had popped earlier in the day. The valium which had woefully worn off by now. At least he was able to pound on the floor with a cane and imagine he could use it as a weapon. It made him feel like a perverse, cross-dressing Madame Giry, but such was the life of a choreographer. Then again, the cane could also be used to beat himself into unconsciousness.
And the worst part of it all, he was in spandex. Black, to be certain -- but spandex nonetheless. He truly was in the seventh circle of hell.
Watching the women go through the combination, Severus began listing ways in which he could kill himself. These were trained dancers. They should know how to count. How to keep rhythm.
He paused in his mental tirade. Never mind. They were dancers. So much for expecting rhythm and counting. However, they weren't tenors so he'd thank whatever god was listening for those small favours. The last thing he needed was a tenor asking which came first, count three or count four. At that point… a single edged razor had a definite appeal.
"One - TWO -- THREE," Snape ground out; banging the cane into the floor with such force he thought he'd nearly split the hardwood floor of the stage. "Miss Granger. If you could not tell, the step we are doing is an arabesque, chassé, ending with a pas de cheval. This is an audition and if your pea-sized brain cannot comprehend that fact, I suggest you find the rear exit. The same goes for the lot of you. Honestly, I've seen better dancing in Seussical."
The speech seemed to have its desired effect. His dancers were now scared to move, and when they did it was perfectly on rhythm. Severus rewarded them by not banging the cane as hard. That and his shoulder was getting sore.
"Ladies, you are dismissed to the wings and I want it quiet! Men!" Severus barked out, sending the females away before he did something truly regrettable (like commit a mercy killing; putting them out of his misery) and watching as they scattered for the safety of the wings. As the men who had made the final cut approached, Severus felt like burying his head in his hands. The likes of Potter, more Weasleys than he could care to count and Malfoy were currently on the stage. Could his luck get any worse?
"You have all made it this far, and for that I congratulate you," Severus said, the words tasting bitter in his mouth. He felt like congratulating no one. "We have several more combinations on which to judge you, and following that the director and I will discuss final call-backs, during which time, we encourage you to take thirty minutes for dinner." Severus paused, clearing his throat. "That goes for you as well, females who do not understand that I can still hear you in the wings with your chattering!" The stage fell silent and Severus gave a hint of a smile that more served to twist his face in an unpleasant manner than convey approval.
"Thank you. Now --"
"Severus."
The voice boomed out over the stage, distorted slightly by the monitors above the stage, sounding like the voice of God. Then again, many considered the director to be God on earth, and who was he to argue? Even if God happened to be Remus J Lupin. Sighing, Severus turned around.
"You called, your majesty?"
"Ease up." Remus' voice echoed through the empty theatre. Severus squinted against the work-lights, barely able to make Remus out in the darkness where he sat in the back of the hall. "You can make them feel ant-sized once we get them into rehearsal. I, for one, would like to get out of here before I turn sixty."
There was a spattering of laughter on stage, much to Severus' annoyance. He fixed the back of the hall with his best glare, then turned around to face the last of the auditoners. Instantly, the laughter and chatter stopped.
"Pay attention. I will only do this once."
Severus launched into a difficult combination of steps, the name of each one spoken rhythmically, though no music played to accompany his dancing. He was going to make them learn these steps in silence. It would separate the men from the boys from the idiots. Pirouette, grand rond de jambe, echappés sautés and entrechats quatres. Severus finished the combination, chest heaving from the exertion and a slight sheen of sweat across his forehead. It wasn't his imagination that he heard a soft round of applause coming from the back of the hall. Lupin wanted him to choreograph, then he would be getting the full package.
At Severus' silence and crossed arms, the prospective males slid into their spots on the stage. When all movement had ceased, Severus counted off, cane banging against the floor once more.
"Five - Six - Seven - EIGHT!"
Well, they were better than he had originally expected. Even if Ronald Weasley could not keep his balance when he landed, crashing into Potter. The two landed in a heap on the floor, Potter angrily kicking at Weasley.
"You," Severus hissed, stalking across the stage to the arguing men. They abruptly stopped, Weasley's legs somehow intertwined with Potter's. Severus really didn't care to know how they had winded up like they had. This was supposed to be the talent they were going to mount a major production with? "You, you're the worst thing to happen to musical theatre since Andrew Lloyd Webber!"
"You realise you're choreographing a Lloyd Webber show, right?"
Severus whirled around to see Remus standing behind him. He hadn't even heard the man approach. Severus somehow managed to glare and roll his eyes in the same instant.
"Details," Severus replied. "Inconsequential details."
Ignoring Severus' ire, Remus stepped beside him to help the two fallen men up. Severus made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat. How was he supposed to keep decorum and discipline when the director was pandering to the actors already?
"Are you both alright?' Remus asked, hauling Ron to his feet first. "Watch those landings, would you?" Straightening up, Remus turned back to Severus, his eyes raking over him. Severus shifted almost uncomfortably, knowing just how on display his body was. Fucking spandex.
"You know," Remus said, turning to head back into the audience. "That spandex really shows off your --"
"Not a word, Lupin," Severus interrupted, shooting a death glare at him. "Not. A. Word." he said, enunciating each word.
Remus shrugged, vaulting down from the edge of the orchestra rail. "I was going to say calves. Where's your mind?" He sprinted up the aisle, Severus following Remus with his eyes. "Now, can we finish, please? I'd rather like a spot of dinner before I waste away."
Severus muttered a few obscenities under his breath, turning back to face the men. "Let's run through it one more time and then you'll get the dinner break our illustrious director seems so intent on giving you."
At least this time, they managed to make it through the combination without accidents, spills, bumps, jostles or anything else to cause Severus to launch into a tantrum. He was almost disappointed.
He dismissed the actors, watching with a satisfied smirk as they scrambled over one another to get to the exit first. All in all, it has been a rather successful day, even if Severus had reduced no less than ten auditioners to tears over a five hour period.
"Lupin," Severus said, shouting to the back of the theatre. "A word, if you will. Dressing rooms. Now."
Severus stalked towards the backstage area, climbing the two flights of stairs to where he had left the rest of his street clothes. He could not wait to strip out of the spandex and into something a bit more comfortable and not as revealing.
Why choreographers insisted on spandex was beyond him. One could move just fine in a pair of loose trousers. But no -- spandex had to be the norm. Really -- choreographers were usually gay anyway, they didn't need help in the 'I look like a poof' department.
The fact that he was a poof being completely beside the point. Just because he was one didn't mean he had to flaunt it like everyone else did in the theatre. Really, there were times one couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting one. Great, and now he was thinking of feline metaphors to boot. Then again, given the state of the current production, unless Potter and Weasley shaped up, a dead cat would be more entertaining and decidedly more marketable than a live one.
Keep it gay, keep it gay, keep it... two three kick turn-turn-turn kick turn...
It was enough to make one heave.
Severus grabbed a towel from the table inside the dressing room, wiping the sweat from his brow. He never heard any one enter the room behind him, nor the door close either.
"You really didn't have to be such an asshole, you know."
Undoing his hair from the band holding it back, Severus turned and flopped down on the couch.
"I did too, and you know it, Lupin," Severus replied. He stuck his hand out and Remus was already across the room, pushing a bottle of water at him. "Do you honestly expect the likes of Granger, Potter or Weasley to be the next 'stars of the stage'?" Severus asked shaking his head. "Lupin, I knew you were crazy, but now I think I'll borrow a page from Mr Weasley's book and call you mental."
"Shame then," Remus said, shrugging. "I was going to let you be in on the casting, but now you're stuck with my choices."
Severus' jaw dropped, throwing the open bottle across the room at Remus. The bottle lacked any trajectory, serving to cover Severus with more water than Remus. So now, not only was he annoyed and wearing spandex, but he was also wet and wearing spandex. "I will not let you just... cast this without consulting me, you bastard. You know I didn't want to do this in the first place."
Remus rolled his eyes, crossed the room and suddenly Severus found himself with a lapful of werewolf. And with where Remus was currently perching himself, Severus was quickly passing 'hate' and rapidly descending into 'loathing' where the spandex was concerned.
Yes, you will. Because you're going to get changed, we're going to go for dinner and we'll discuss this once we get home," Remus said, lifting a brow as if daring Severus to argue.
And argue he did.
"Do you," Severus began, resting his hands on Remus' hips, "have any idea how lacking in the talent department they are? I do not want to be involved in this. I'm done. I quit."
Remus shifted, straddling Severus and rolling his hips to bring them in direct contact with Severus' very exposed groin. Severus let out a sound that was half-moan, half-growl and half-annoyance. He was Severus Snape, the one man who could manage a look adding up to more than one hundred percent of any emotion.
Reaching between them, Remus rubbed Severus' cock through the very, very thin fabric. Again, Severus cursed the fact that he had chosen to wear spandex in the first place and that he hadn't stripped it off the very moment he got into the room. Of course, given the fact that Remus had been in the room as well, his plan might not have worked.
Blasted directors.
And blasted cock that was responding to Remus' touch rather than obeying his own wishes. Which was to not be aroused and to not jump his lover right here and now. However, both options were looking rather good at the present. However, not doing either of these things seemed like a rather stupid idea. He was the one with a werewolf in his lap, so why shouldn’t he take advantage of the situation? There was no good reason saying why he shouldn't.
You're not going to quit."
Somewhere through the haze of arousal, Remus' voice seeped into his mind. Severus blinked, looking up at Remus and probably would have agreed to stage, produce and star in the next production of the Sound of Music so long as Remus didn't stop touching him.
"Not... quitting," Severus mumbled, reaching for Remus' waist and pulling him closer into his lap. He brought Remus into direct contact with his groin, rocking slowly against him.
Remus leaned down, his tongue teasing Severus' lower lip. "I knew you'd come to your senses."
Vaguely, Severus was aware that he had just taken advantage of. And that he had been screwed with his trousers on once again. Yet, the way Remus was rubbing against him, this time it was exceedingly more fun.
"Bastard," Severus ground out, dragging his lips in a line from Remus' mouth to his ear. He sucked the lobe into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue while his fingers roamed across Remus' chest. "Taking advantage of a man."
Remus' low moan matched his own, hips rolling against Severus' groin while his hand fitted between their bodies, still managing to rub against his cock as a double stimulation. "I've picked up a few things from you."
"You shouldn't have," Severus replied dryly.
If there was a response, Severus missed it, the little bit of blood left in regions other than his groin rushing through his ears. Before he could warn for Remus to stop, his body was tensing, balls tightening. Severus came in his spandex trousers, the whitish stain unmistakable on black. He looked up at Remus who was wearing that damned satisfied smirk on his face. Grumbling, Severus pushed him from his lap, rubbing at the drying stain. Remus fell in a heap to the floor, not even the fall enough to wipe the smirk from his lover's face. Bastard.
"No, Lupin, this isn't at all noticeable."
Remus hauled himself to his feet, tossing Severus' trousers at him. "Then change. It's not like you were going to be wearing these again anytime soon... or out in public for that matter."
Severus threw Remus a look. "These are my last pair as you've managed to ruin the three others during the audition process."
"You needed convincing not to walk off the stage each night."
"And so you use sex as a weapon?" Severus asked, lifting a brow.
"Wouldn't you?" Remus shot back.
Point. Lupin: Three, Severus: Zero. If one was keeping score, that is. Severus would never do such a thing -- save if he was the one winning, of course.
"Remind me why I'm still living with you?" Severus asked, peeling off the stained spandex and tossing it into his bag. He redressed in the offered trousers, taking a moment to relish Remus' silence.
"Because I give you these wonderful opportunities," Remus replied, swallowing hard and trying to raise his eyes from Severus' groin.
"You call directing Weasley, Potter and Granger an 'opportunity'?"
"Because the sex is great and you will be getting some every night after rehearsals?"
"You're damn straight I am," Severus said, crossing the room to steal a quick kiss.
"Far from straight," Remus reminded, drawing Severus into his arms and deepening the kiss before letting him go.
"Stop with the damned technicalities, would you?"
"Whatever you say, Severus."
Author: thescarletwoman
Requestor: soberloki
Claim: Severus Snape, choreographer for the new London cast of Cats
Rating: Hard R (for gratuitous spandex)
Summary: AU. Remus Lupin finds himself the director of the new production of Cats. And there's no choreographer in the business better than Severus Snape.
Warnings (if applicable): Slash. And the making fun of various shows and tenors.
Notes: There are snippets of quotes taken from various other sources, the most noticible being from Family Guy and The Producers. Thanks to rose_whispers for the beta and the hand holding. Any other mistakes are my own. The characters belong to JRK and I'm just stealing them for a bit.
"Not on your life."
Click.
Remus sat in his office, staring at the buzzing receiver in his hand. Sighing, he re-dialled the number for the fourth time.
"You cannot honestly turn this down," Remus said quickly, skipping all preambles.
"Can and will."
Click.
Grumbling and muttering obscenities under his breath, Remus re-dialled the phone a final time. He was nothing if not tenacious. Besides, who in their right mind would turn down a once in a lifetime opportunity to choreograph the revival of Cats in the West End?
"Will you leave me alone, Lupin? I already --"
"The contract will be drawn up tomorrow," Remus interrupted. "Auditions are in two weeks at the Drury Lane Theatre. You will be there, even if I bodily drag you there myself."
Click.
This time it was one Severus Snape who sat back in his chair holding a buzzing receiver and calling Remus Lupin a bastard in every language he knew. He stopped once he finished going through the forms in Ancient Greek, Latin and was just beginning to see the Cuneiform runes in his head.
He had the sinking suspicion he had just been screwed with his trousers on.
~*~
The auditions weren't much better than a root canal in Severus' mind. However, at least a root canal would have involved novocaine. He had no such drugs, save for the valium he had popped earlier in the day. The valium which had woefully worn off by now. At least he was able to pound on the floor with a cane and imagine he could use it as a weapon. It made him feel like a perverse, cross-dressing Madame Giry, but such was the life of a choreographer. Then again, the cane could also be used to beat himself into unconsciousness.
And the worst part of it all, he was in spandex. Black, to be certain -- but spandex nonetheless. He truly was in the seventh circle of hell.
Watching the women go through the combination, Severus began listing ways in which he could kill himself. These were trained dancers. They should know how to count. How to keep rhythm.
He paused in his mental tirade. Never mind. They were dancers. So much for expecting rhythm and counting. However, they weren't tenors so he'd thank whatever god was listening for those small favours. The last thing he needed was a tenor asking which came first, count three or count four. At that point… a single edged razor had a definite appeal.
"One - TWO -- THREE," Snape ground out; banging the cane into the floor with such force he thought he'd nearly split the hardwood floor of the stage. "Miss Granger. If you could not tell, the step we are doing is an arabesque, chassé, ending with a pas de cheval. This is an audition and if your pea-sized brain cannot comprehend that fact, I suggest you find the rear exit. The same goes for the lot of you. Honestly, I've seen better dancing in Seussical."
The speech seemed to have its desired effect. His dancers were now scared to move, and when they did it was perfectly on rhythm. Severus rewarded them by not banging the cane as hard. That and his shoulder was getting sore.
"Ladies, you are dismissed to the wings and I want it quiet! Men!" Severus barked out, sending the females away before he did something truly regrettable (like commit a mercy killing; putting them out of his misery) and watching as they scattered for the safety of the wings. As the men who had made the final cut approached, Severus felt like burying his head in his hands. The likes of Potter, more Weasleys than he could care to count and Malfoy were currently on the stage. Could his luck get any worse?
"You have all made it this far, and for that I congratulate you," Severus said, the words tasting bitter in his mouth. He felt like congratulating no one. "We have several more combinations on which to judge you, and following that the director and I will discuss final call-backs, during which time, we encourage you to take thirty minutes for dinner." Severus paused, clearing his throat. "That goes for you as well, females who do not understand that I can still hear you in the wings with your chattering!" The stage fell silent and Severus gave a hint of a smile that more served to twist his face in an unpleasant manner than convey approval.
"Thank you. Now --"
"Severus."
The voice boomed out over the stage, distorted slightly by the monitors above the stage, sounding like the voice of God. Then again, many considered the director to be God on earth, and who was he to argue? Even if God happened to be Remus J Lupin. Sighing, Severus turned around.
"You called, your majesty?"
"Ease up." Remus' voice echoed through the empty theatre. Severus squinted against the work-lights, barely able to make Remus out in the darkness where he sat in the back of the hall. "You can make them feel ant-sized once we get them into rehearsal. I, for one, would like to get out of here before I turn sixty."
There was a spattering of laughter on stage, much to Severus' annoyance. He fixed the back of the hall with his best glare, then turned around to face the last of the auditoners. Instantly, the laughter and chatter stopped.
"Pay attention. I will only do this once."
Severus launched into a difficult combination of steps, the name of each one spoken rhythmically, though no music played to accompany his dancing. He was going to make them learn these steps in silence. It would separate the men from the boys from the idiots. Pirouette, grand rond de jambe, echappés sautés and entrechats quatres. Severus finished the combination, chest heaving from the exertion and a slight sheen of sweat across his forehead. It wasn't his imagination that he heard a soft round of applause coming from the back of the hall. Lupin wanted him to choreograph, then he would be getting the full package.
At Severus' silence and crossed arms, the prospective males slid into their spots on the stage. When all movement had ceased, Severus counted off, cane banging against the floor once more.
"Five - Six - Seven - EIGHT!"
Well, they were better than he had originally expected. Even if Ronald Weasley could not keep his balance when he landed, crashing into Potter. The two landed in a heap on the floor, Potter angrily kicking at Weasley.
"You," Severus hissed, stalking across the stage to the arguing men. They abruptly stopped, Weasley's legs somehow intertwined with Potter's. Severus really didn't care to know how they had winded up like they had. This was supposed to be the talent they were going to mount a major production with? "You, you're the worst thing to happen to musical theatre since Andrew Lloyd Webber!"
"You realise you're choreographing a Lloyd Webber show, right?"
Severus whirled around to see Remus standing behind him. He hadn't even heard the man approach. Severus somehow managed to glare and roll his eyes in the same instant.
"Details," Severus replied. "Inconsequential details."
Ignoring Severus' ire, Remus stepped beside him to help the two fallen men up. Severus made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat. How was he supposed to keep decorum and discipline when the director was pandering to the actors already?
"Are you both alright?' Remus asked, hauling Ron to his feet first. "Watch those landings, would you?" Straightening up, Remus turned back to Severus, his eyes raking over him. Severus shifted almost uncomfortably, knowing just how on display his body was. Fucking spandex.
"You know," Remus said, turning to head back into the audience. "That spandex really shows off your --"
"Not a word, Lupin," Severus interrupted, shooting a death glare at him. "Not. A. Word." he said, enunciating each word.
Remus shrugged, vaulting down from the edge of the orchestra rail. "I was going to say calves. Where's your mind?" He sprinted up the aisle, Severus following Remus with his eyes. "Now, can we finish, please? I'd rather like a spot of dinner before I waste away."
Severus muttered a few obscenities under his breath, turning back to face the men. "Let's run through it one more time and then you'll get the dinner break our illustrious director seems so intent on giving you."
At least this time, they managed to make it through the combination without accidents, spills, bumps, jostles or anything else to cause Severus to launch into a tantrum. He was almost disappointed.
He dismissed the actors, watching with a satisfied smirk as they scrambled over one another to get to the exit first. All in all, it has been a rather successful day, even if Severus had reduced no less than ten auditioners to tears over a five hour period.
"Lupin," Severus said, shouting to the back of the theatre. "A word, if you will. Dressing rooms. Now."
Severus stalked towards the backstage area, climbing the two flights of stairs to where he had left the rest of his street clothes. He could not wait to strip out of the spandex and into something a bit more comfortable and not as revealing.
Why choreographers insisted on spandex was beyond him. One could move just fine in a pair of loose trousers. But no -- spandex had to be the norm. Really -- choreographers were usually gay anyway, they didn't need help in the 'I look like a poof' department.
The fact that he was a poof being completely beside the point. Just because he was one didn't mean he had to flaunt it like everyone else did in the theatre. Really, there were times one couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting one. Great, and now he was thinking of feline metaphors to boot. Then again, given the state of the current production, unless Potter and Weasley shaped up, a dead cat would be more entertaining and decidedly more marketable than a live one.
Keep it gay, keep it gay, keep it... two three kick turn-turn-turn kick turn...
It was enough to make one heave.
Severus grabbed a towel from the table inside the dressing room, wiping the sweat from his brow. He never heard any one enter the room behind him, nor the door close either.
"You really didn't have to be such an asshole, you know."
Undoing his hair from the band holding it back, Severus turned and flopped down on the couch.
"I did too, and you know it, Lupin," Severus replied. He stuck his hand out and Remus was already across the room, pushing a bottle of water at him. "Do you honestly expect the likes of Granger, Potter or Weasley to be the next 'stars of the stage'?" Severus asked shaking his head. "Lupin, I knew you were crazy, but now I think I'll borrow a page from Mr Weasley's book and call you mental."
"Shame then," Remus said, shrugging. "I was going to let you be in on the casting, but now you're stuck with my choices."
Severus' jaw dropped, throwing the open bottle across the room at Remus. The bottle lacked any trajectory, serving to cover Severus with more water than Remus. So now, not only was he annoyed and wearing spandex, but he was also wet and wearing spandex. "I will not let you just... cast this without consulting me, you bastard. You know I didn't want to do this in the first place."
Remus rolled his eyes, crossed the room and suddenly Severus found himself with a lapful of werewolf. And with where Remus was currently perching himself, Severus was quickly passing 'hate' and rapidly descending into 'loathing' where the spandex was concerned.
Yes, you will. Because you're going to get changed, we're going to go for dinner and we'll discuss this once we get home," Remus said, lifting a brow as if daring Severus to argue.
And argue he did.
"Do you," Severus began, resting his hands on Remus' hips, "have any idea how lacking in the talent department they are? I do not want to be involved in this. I'm done. I quit."
Remus shifted, straddling Severus and rolling his hips to bring them in direct contact with Severus' very exposed groin. Severus let out a sound that was half-moan, half-growl and half-annoyance. He was Severus Snape, the one man who could manage a look adding up to more than one hundred percent of any emotion.
Reaching between them, Remus rubbed Severus' cock through the very, very thin fabric. Again, Severus cursed the fact that he had chosen to wear spandex in the first place and that he hadn't stripped it off the very moment he got into the room. Of course, given the fact that Remus had been in the room as well, his plan might not have worked.
Blasted directors.
And blasted cock that was responding to Remus' touch rather than obeying his own wishes. Which was to not be aroused and to not jump his lover right here and now. However, both options were looking rather good at the present. However, not doing either of these things seemed like a rather stupid idea. He was the one with a werewolf in his lap, so why shouldn’t he take advantage of the situation? There was no good reason saying why he shouldn't.
You're not going to quit."
Somewhere through the haze of arousal, Remus' voice seeped into his mind. Severus blinked, looking up at Remus and probably would have agreed to stage, produce and star in the next production of the Sound of Music so long as Remus didn't stop touching him.
"Not... quitting," Severus mumbled, reaching for Remus' waist and pulling him closer into his lap. He brought Remus into direct contact with his groin, rocking slowly against him.
Remus leaned down, his tongue teasing Severus' lower lip. "I knew you'd come to your senses."
Vaguely, Severus was aware that he had just taken advantage of. And that he had been screwed with his trousers on once again. Yet, the way Remus was rubbing against him, this time it was exceedingly more fun.
"Bastard," Severus ground out, dragging his lips in a line from Remus' mouth to his ear. He sucked the lobe into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue while his fingers roamed across Remus' chest. "Taking advantage of a man."
Remus' low moan matched his own, hips rolling against Severus' groin while his hand fitted between their bodies, still managing to rub against his cock as a double stimulation. "I've picked up a few things from you."
"You shouldn't have," Severus replied dryly.
If there was a response, Severus missed it, the little bit of blood left in regions other than his groin rushing through his ears. Before he could warn for Remus to stop, his body was tensing, balls tightening. Severus came in his spandex trousers, the whitish stain unmistakable on black. He looked up at Remus who was wearing that damned satisfied smirk on his face. Grumbling, Severus pushed him from his lap, rubbing at the drying stain. Remus fell in a heap to the floor, not even the fall enough to wipe the smirk from his lover's face. Bastard.
"No, Lupin, this isn't at all noticeable."
Remus hauled himself to his feet, tossing Severus' trousers at him. "Then change. It's not like you were going to be wearing these again anytime soon... or out in public for that matter."
Severus threw Remus a look. "These are my last pair as you've managed to ruin the three others during the audition process."
"You needed convincing not to walk off the stage each night."
"And so you use sex as a weapon?" Severus asked, lifting a brow.
"Wouldn't you?" Remus shot back.
Point. Lupin: Three, Severus: Zero. If one was keeping score, that is. Severus would never do such a thing -- save if he was the one winning, of course.
"Remind me why I'm still living with you?" Severus asked, peeling off the stained spandex and tossing it into his bag. He redressed in the offered trousers, taking a moment to relish Remus' silence.
"Because I give you these wonderful opportunities," Remus replied, swallowing hard and trying to raise his eyes from Severus' groin.
"You call directing Weasley, Potter and Granger an 'opportunity'?"
"Because the sex is great and you will be getting some every night after rehearsals?"
"You're damn straight I am," Severus said, crossing the room to steal a quick kiss.
"Far from straight," Remus reminded, drawing Severus into his arms and deepening the kiss before letting him go.
"Stop with the damned technicalities, would you?"
"Whatever you say, Severus."