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"Severus," Lucius said in a lazy, unconcerned manner while sprawled half on top of an unconscious Hermione, "be good enough to remove that fingernail from my back, would you?"

Smirking, Severus leaned forward from his kneeling position behind Lucius and did as he was asked. "You overwhelmed her again—she never passes out when I fuck her."

Lucius grinned. "It's that filthy mouth of yours. You insist upon hearing her answer your every despicable suggestion—I prefer the kissing."

"Do you?" Severus asked, leaning back and drawing the fingertip in slow circles over Lucius' arse. "I could kiss you . . . here," he continued, spreading Lucius and shifting still back until his breath was caressing his lover's sensitive, hidden flesh.

Hermione giggled as Lucius began to keen, and threaded her fingers into his hair to keep him still. "Don't jostle me, tired."

"Wake . . . up. . . . You get . . . to . . . have him . . . next," Severus murmured, in between stabbing motions of his tongue.

"Mmm," was Hermione's reply, as she summoned her broken fingernail and Transfigured it into something useful to the occasion.