speakscanadian | 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 self-conscious and covered himself with his hands, frowning. It took him another minute or two to pluck up the courage to aim a come hither expression at the door. Maybe if he rolled half onto his side and cocked a leg just so…

Nah, that just made him look like he needed the john.

Propping his head up on his hand, he sprawled seductively on the mattress and caressed the empty space beside him.

Chirp chirp.

“Shut up.”

Even the chick was judging him.

Things were going surprisingly well with Asher, so Ray had taken it upon himself to sneak down into the basement dorm and await his return. Naked. It might have made him look easy, but there was a time and a place for playing hard to get and he wasn’t feeling it right then. The entire plan was flawless.

Asher came in.

Asher saw Ray.

Asher joined Ray.

Ray had his wicked way.

Psyched up, the thought made him smile and that was what he directed at the door. “Time to unleash the Italian Stallion.”

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Snape's time on the island kept getting better and better. And by "better", of course, he really meant "worse".

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.

Snape cleared his throat, gathering his wits back about him. "No one told me this was part of the official island welcome," he said dryly, arms folded over his chest.

When Ray spotted the slither of light as the door opened, he chose a position and stuck to it. Probably the most revealing position he could have chosen.

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?!"

Snape shifted his weight from one foot to the other and glared at the man. He seemed properly horrified, so that was good. Someone who wasn't, well, that wasn't someone that Snape wanted to be forced to live with.

"I live here," he said simply. "And I certainly hope that's not my bed you're -- you're -- writhing about on."

"You live here?!" Ray echoed, voice still a good few notches above manly.

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!"

"Since now," Snape said sharply. "Since I arrived on this terrible, inexplicable island and was given a room apparently inhabited by an exhibitionist." He nearly spat the word out, as if it was something incredibly distasteful to be called.

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."

Ray was all for covering up. It was lucky that his brain was functioning just enough to scramble off the bed and begin tugging clothes on wherever they fit. It was a case of more haste, less speed, but he eventually got his legs in the right holes and pulled up his trousers.

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?"

One eyebrow arched up whenever the man said that he didn't even live there.

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.

"You make me sound like a pervert!" Ray answered with a shrill. "This is Asher's place. Asher's room. I'm Asher's..."

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.

Muggles.

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.

"I don't flit!" Ray insisted, zipping up his pants but not bothing with the belt. The sooner he was out of here the better. "Let alone nude. This is a terrible, terrible misunderstanding."

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?"

For Snape

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