Title: Far From a Threesome
Author: lore
Characters: Snape, Hermione, Remus
Rating: NC17/NWS
Warnings: Wanking, Arseplay, Finger-sucking
Themes/kinks chosen: Public sex
Word Count: ~1200
Summary: One hallway, three pulses
Notes: Post-DH Alternate Reality - Everyone lives so I can play with them!


Hermione Granger had her hand down her knickers, more turned on by two minutes watching Professor Snape than she had been in two years with Ron Weasley.

Granted, Snape was making a delectable picture, slouched in his desk chair with his legs spread wide, trousers halfway down his thighs and hand wrapped around his purpling cock. She didn't know why he was pleasuring himself where anyone could see, his office door wide open, but Hermione had been lucky enough to dart to the side without being spotted, and she wasn't going to waste the sudden, sharp throb that rang through her. Not when she had been longing for such dangerous excitement for far too long.

Remus knew exactly why Severus was on display, and it wasn't for Hermione's eyes, but Remus could make do with his vantage point further up the hall and around the corner. Hermione's untamed hair was just beginning to darken and curl in the light sweat sheening her face, yet the older man could also take in the twisting pulls of Severus' arm. Unsure as to whether the curvaceous young woman was a new element to the Potions master's offering or just another admirer struck helpless by catching Snape in abandon, Remus decided to fish out his own cock quietly and enjoy the show.

From the next room, Hermione heard Snape moan. It was soft and deep, private, and she felt herself grow wetter just imagining her former professor's face while making such a noise. Fumbling for her wand with her dry hand, Hermione chanced casting a silent transparency spell, giving her a small window into Snape's office only she could see through. Snape was moving his arm elaborately, palming his cock in a complicated stroke that seemed to require his concentration, but that also appeared to give him great pleasure.

With his eyes closed, Snape's dusky lashes laid almost prettily in contrast to his sallow skin. Hermione found she could easily ignore the man's more infamous features, seeing him in such light now, especially when his mind had always fascinated her before. Snape threw his head back, and the pad of Hermione's finger circled her clit in time to the bobbing of his throat as Snape swallowed his groans in a failing effort to remain silent.

Remus watched Hermione press her side tighter against the wall she was boring a hole through with her eyes, one hand making her skirt twitch and jump while the other pinched almost viciously at her nipples through the fabric of her shirt and bra. For a moment, Remus felt incredibly lecherous, Hermione well out of school but looking very much like the teen he once taught, still wearing pleated skirts and button-down blouses like she couldn't be arsed to find her own fashion once she left Hogwarts. However, when another grunt from Snape echoed up the hall and Hermione bit her knuckles to keep herself quiet, Remus shifted from lechery into full wantonness, the hand in his pants jerking roughly to catch up to the other two.

He laid two finger-tips at his lips and darted his tongue out to taste them, the visions before him preoccupying his mind enough to make him forget he was lapping at his own hand. The wet slide of tongue swirling over and under sensitive skin made Remus push the fingers in further, and he suckled them gently even as the sensation sent a shuddering thrill straight down to his balls.

Hermione heard a choking noise come from Snape, and, in a flowing rush, he levered himself out of the chair and laid his chest flat on his desk. His face pressed against the weekend's grading, gravity taking his trousers to the ground. All movement stopped as Snape seemed to concentrate, and then Hermione had to hold her breath against gasping as the older man fed two long, calloused fingers deep into his arse. Unconsciously, Hermione undid another button on her skirt and moved her free hand behind her, feeling around until she could stroke and tease the tip of her finger into her back there as well.

The feeling was instantly polarizing, electric and wrong in exactly the right way. This is what she had been missing in all that time with Ron, Snape unwittingly showing her the way to test her body's limits, to seek its pleasure outside of the channel to her vagina. She could hear a soft squelching noise as Snape worked his fingers in and out of his hole, and Hermione vowed to learn and use whatever lubrication spell Snape knew soon. The slight burn trying to push her finger in dry didn't frighten her at all - she knew better, and she'd told Ron as much, not that he'd listened.

Remus came first, and he wasn't a bit ashamed about it, not when he had two attractive people wanking with utter abandon in his sights. He had been sucking his fingers like they were a cock and his own length had surged as if it felt every tug. When Hermione moved her other hand behind her and licked her lips while Severus pushed himself forward and back onto his own hands, Remus was lost.

Hermione heard the great huff of air Remus released, but she thought it had come from Severus and merely echoed strangely from his new position. She turned and pressed her face against the wall, smashed her breasts with it as well, and left off arse play for now in favour of making her fingers rigid and using her hips to frantically slide them from clit to folds unerringly. Her orgasm began bright and sharp, almost a cramp, but she persisted and rode out several waves of increasingly liquid heat as she watched Severus roar and finish himself off with both hands making a tight circle for his pulsing cock.

If Remus could have come any more, he would have from that final dual completion, Hermione's entire body shaking and panting covered by Severus' cries. If Severus had set this scene for his benefit, Remus thought he might just visit the snarky former spy in person next week. To Remus, it would mean that Severus was tired of waiting for Remus to forgive himself for his brief marriage to Tonks, that Severus was tired of having only this small voyeuristic piece of Remus. If Hermione's presence wasn't an accident. The quiet man left without touching the wards that shielded the hallways every Friday night, just in case, not staying to ask his questions. He would have his answers soon, and he was jealous enough of Hermione's intrusion to not care what they were.

With silent spells long-practiced, Hermione pulled herself together. She was tempted to reveal herself to the Potions master, to discuss what had just happened, pick it apart and put it back together again until it made sense why she, of all people, would do such a thing. But they were not-lovers, and Severus Snape was no man to mistake for a therapist. The shock of passing through the wards she hadn't felt twenty minutes before made her turn around quickly, wanting to go back and confront the man, but they would not let her pass.

Severus pulled up his trousers and smirked.


-30-


love, lore