A/N: This idea popped into my head when I was washing my hands after taking out the trash. You know you're shamelessly addicted to slash when… Anyway, I blame it on the fact that I haven't slept in nearly 31 hours, and all I've eaten today was a cup of coffee and a sausage roll, both of which I nearly threw up. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go find a way to make the room stop spinning.

Warnings: Slash, but nothing explicit, as the summary might suggest. Rated for safety.

Disclaimer: I'm sure that J.K.R has had many stints of sleep deprivation, but I am not her.


Severus Snape looked up from his grading, just for a moment, pausing in his task long enough to sneer at the insolent boy who was scrubbing cauldrons in a dark corner of the dungeon. The pause in the scratching of the quill caused the Potter brat to look up in curiosity. Curiosity that was instantly quelled by the menacing glare the Potions Master sent his way. With a barely audible sigh, the boy returned to his task.

The steady background noise of Potter's scrubbing did not cease again for a long while. Just as Severus graded his last essay, the scrubbing sound stopped. Potter turned to look at him.

"What do you want, Potter?" growled Severus.

The boy looked him straight in the eye, and responded,

"I'm done sir."

Severus raised an eyebrow, but did not feel like making the brat do the cauldron over again, so did not bother to check. He simply gave a curt nod of his head.

He bent his head to look back down at his desk, ready to put the essays away, when Potter's movement towards the sink garnered his attention. Of course, the cauldron he had set Potter to clean was a particularly dirty one, and the boy's hands and forearms would likely be flecked with grime.

As Potter rolled up his sleeves carefully, Severus vaguely wondered why the brat hadn't done it before he cleaned the cauldron. However, these thoughts were driven out of his mind by the sight of Potter's surprisingly beautiful wrists. The skin was flawless and porcelain-white, and the wrists looked rather delicate. Unbidden, an image of how much better those wrists might look tied with silk restraints flew into Severus' head.

His attempts to push such an arousing image out of his mind were further thwarted when Potter reached for the bottle of soap. Normally, this would not be such a problem, but Potter was far from normal. While most students simply squirted the soap onto their hands and proceeded to stick their hands under an icy jet of water, Potter did not. Potter did not squirt; he poured. And not simply poured either; he poured luxuriously. So enraptured by the sight of Potter's fingers coated so deliciously in the slick substance was Snape, he failed to notice the fact that Potter's fingers did not appear to be dirty in the slightest.

He also failed to notice the devious smirk that played across Harry Potter's face.

Finally, the last of Severus' control snapped when Harry wiggled his fingers slightly, the soap-covered fingers glistening tantalizingly in the dim light of the dungeon. He was up and across the room in an instant, dragging his lover of three months into his private quarters with a low growl.


A/N: Review please! Okay, enough enthusiasm. I need sleep damnit!