A fluffanelle for arionrhod

[bronze_ribbons]

...because, my goodness. Diolch yn fawr a Nadolig llawen, cariad!


When Snape and Lupin go to bed --
Snape in his nightshirt, Lupin in nothing --
there are many things that could be said.

The eiderdown's dyed a Gryffindor red,
each handcuff bright as a new-minted farthing,
gleaming as Lupin pins Snape to the bed.

On alternate weeks, the covers are green
and so are the blindfolds 'round Snape's head:
he likes how things don't have to be said

out loud for Lupin to go ahead --
to ply him with tongue and teeth 'til he's screaming.
Yes, Snape loves how they end up in bed,

the only place where Lupin's well-bred
quiet facade gives way to sweet taunting
and sexily savage threats. Things said

in Lupin's tender growl -- Snape's fled
from many a would-be lord, but coming
to Lupin? His vision of heaven: their bed.


:-)