For Snape
It was a little chillier down here than Ray had thought. He glanced the length of his body, checking one last time to make sure everything looked as it should and then leaned back on his elbows, gaze travelling to the basement door and fixing there.
He tried a sultry look but as soon as he imagined Asher standing there - and laughing - he became too ( Read more... )
It wasn't insulting enough to be stuck there, with no magic, and with Lily and James's stupid son running about, but he had to go and ask nicely for someone to give him a place to sleep. The basement room, he'd been assigned. He simply hoped that whomever he was stuck with down there would just mind their own business and leave him alone.
When he got down to the basement room, the door was closed. Snape took a deep breath and then pushed it open... and immediately regretted it.
His cheeks flushed a bit as he took sight of the situation. Of course, of course, there was a naked man sprawled across one of the beds. Why not? The room couldn't have been empty, or occupied by someone quietly reading or writing, could it? Of course not. Things like that didn't happen to Snape ( ... )
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It wasn't Asher on the receiving end of it though.
Eyes bulging, Ray shot upright, his stomach jumping into his mouth and a high-pitched squeak of alarm escaping. "Oh my God!" This could not be happening. "What the hell are you doing?!"
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"I live here," he said simply. "And I certainly hope that's not my bed you're -- you're -- writhing about on."
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Mama mia, he just used the word writhing.
It was a delayed reaction but Ray finally reached behind him and grabbed a pillow to cover up his lap.
"Since when?! Oh my God." He was seriously close to shutting down and rocking back and forward in a trance. This wasn't happening. "Oh my God!"
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Normal people would turn around, so the man on the bed could have had some dignity while he possibly scrambled for clothes, but Snape was not that sort of person. His gaze fixed on a point on the wall, somewhere north of the bed the man was in. "And as someone who lives here, I believe it's fair to make a request that you put some bloody pants on."
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All the while, he babbled on from the nerves and shock.
"I don't even live here. This is just a huge terrible mistake. I can't believe this is happening, what the hell, I didn't think-- I didn't know-- Oh, God."
Pants on, he turned back to the guy, eyes wide.
"This didn't happen, okay?"
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That made it even worse.
"You don't even live here?" Snape repeated. "So you just waltz naked into other peoples' rooms for a laugh? Is that it?"
His hands clenched and un-clenched into fists at his sides. He hated this stupid island. He hated it so intensely that there weren't even words for it.
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This was possibly the worst time ever to try to define their relationship with one word.
"I am a cop, okay!" When in doubt, Ray always turned to his trusty friend. "I don't have my badge on me--" Obviously. He still didn't have much on him at all. His shirt was tugged on hastily. "But as a cop, I am telling you not to breathe a word to him about this." He would never, ever live it down.
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Oh, did Snape ever so hate Muggles. This island represented everything he hated, and this was a prime example of it.
"Usually people who flit about nude do fit into the category of pervert, officer of the law or not," Snape replied drolly. A little smirk started to tug at one corner of his mouth. As horrified and furious as he was over apparently having to room with an exhibitionist, it was a bit satisfying for Snape to know that the man was absolutely flustered.
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He was going to have nightmares, he knew it.
"You should knock," he suddenly accused with a point of his finger, as he grasped around for a sock. Anything to deflect the awkwardness. "Don't you knock?"
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