23

Chapter Twenty-Three

62

"—not available."

"Yeah, but we had plans."

"If we could just—"

"Perhaps if your plans were better made, you would not be pounding on my door at such an ungodly hour of the morning."

Harry frowned into his pillow, barely awake. For a moment he thought he was back in Gryffindor Tower, but no, that couldn't be right. He was in his bed. He heard Severus. Neither of those things had ever been in Gryffindor Tower.

"—find said door?"

Yes, definitely Severus.

"We went to Neville's first, and he—"

Shit.

That would be Ron and Hermione, wondering why he wasn't at breakfast after he specifically promised to meet them by the Great Hall. Harry jumped out of bed, ran through the living room and into the lab. Severus had firmly planted himself in the doorway, and Harry had to squeeze between him and the wood in order to get to his friends.

"Hi," he said, out of breath. Ron and Hermione looked—blurry, actually, he hadn't thought to put his glasses on. "Sorry, I overslept. Come in, I'll be ready in a minute." He might not be able to see, but he could feel the glare Severus was giving him as he stepped aside to make room for Ron and Hermione. Harry led them into the living room and, after a brief debate regarding how little Severus would want them in his private room versus leaving them alone with the man, Harry pushed them into the bedroom and closed the door. A second later a different door slammed, and the shower turned on. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and went to get his glasses.

Ron started. "That was—"

"Unexpected," Hermione said quickly. "We went to the Great Hall first, of course, but you weren't there, and we were going to go in anyway when we ran into Neville, who directed us here. We were skeptical, but—"

"Overslept?" Ron interrupted. "Is that code for something I don't want to know about?"

"Yes," Harry said simply. "Turn around, I'm going to change." There was a moment of silence as he started throwing clothes onto the bed.

"I thought you weren't—involved, like that," Hermione said carefully.

"Things change," Harry replied, a stupid grin starting to spread across his face.

"Since last night?" Ron asked.

"Yup," Harry replied, tugging on his pants and an old pair of jeans.

"What, exactly, changed?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know, it's just been since last night," Harry said, pulling on a long sleeved shirt. He considered, then went over to the closet and started hunting for a sweater.

"Maybe start with when you left the Three Broomsticks?" Hermione suggested.

Harry grabbed a black turtleneck and, voice muffled by the fabric as he put it on, said, "I'm decent. Are you sure you want to hear? Ron, you said—"

"We want to hear," Hermione overrode.

"Just not, y'know, the—details," Ron said, looking vaguely ill.

Harry ushered them into the living room so they could sit, and, speaking quietly so Severus wouldn't hear over the shower, told them the story. It was a little difficult, because Ron kept interrupting whenever he thought Harry might be starting to over-share, but eventually he made it through.

"I—I really don't know what to say," Hermione said. "I'm—happy for you? Yes, I'm definitely happy for you. I don't—"

The water shut off, and they fell silent. The bathroom door opened a crack, sending steam billowing into the living room, and a black blur of clothing shot out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, followed immediately by the door slamming shut.

"Did we get you in trouble?" Ron asked. He smiled mischievously, the old smile from their school days. "Harry, are you in trouble with your professor?"

Harry smacked him. "Shut up. Probably. Come on, let's go to breakfast before he gets out. I've got no idea what he's going to be like after last night, never mind you waking him up."

"I bet you're going to get detention," Ron said smugly as they left.

"And how do you think that'll go?" Harry asked. "I spend pretty much every waking hour with him as it is. Any punishment would fall into the category of things you don't want to hear about."

Ron's expression fell. "Oh, right."

"Do you think it will be all right?" Hermione asked nervously. "Never mind us, no doubt he loved starting his morning by humiliating us. After last night, I mean. You said nothing changes even when it should."

"I imagine so," Harry replied, though he was nervous too. "He said he loves me, and he said we're—bloody hell, I don't know. Romantically involved, I suppose. Things have got to change. He hates talking about emotional stuff, there's no way he'd go all out like that if he didn't expect something to happen." Grand words. Harry almost believed them. "Yeah, it'll be fine."

"And you'll keep us updated?" Ron asked. "No more waiting and seeing?"

"Yeah, of course," Harry replied. "I'll owl you every night to tell you nothing's happened."

"It will happen," Hermione said, sounding awfully confident for somebody who had just asked that very question. "You're right. He opened up, he wouldn't shut down again."

"Yeah," Harry said again. "Yeah, of course. It might be an adjustment, y'know, take some time, but things will change. They've already changed."

"Right," Ron said. "He definitely says what he means. He's never been shy about that."

"He's brave, too," Hermione added. "He won't back down."

"Exactly," Harry said with much more conviction than he felt. "Come on, Minerva's set us up a table behind the High Table so we can eat together. Neville, too. He's probably worried Severus killed you."

They joined their friend and settled down for a relatively relaxing breakfast. Neville was brought up-to-date on the previous night's events, and after that conversation moved away from Severus.

The only awkward moment was when Severus arrived. He passed by their table on the way to his seat, and he stopped just long enough to lean down and say, "Harry, the next time you wish to wear my clothing, do be kind enough to ask. I expect that spot of hollandaise sauce to be gone by the time you return it to me."

Harry blushed darkly and stammered out to his friends that he hadn't mean to borrow his sweater and he didn't know it was his because it had gotten mixed up with his clothes, one of the house elves must have made a mistake, and that got Hermione going about house elves, and conversation moved on.

Harry ended up spending the entirety of Saturday with his friends, trading a full day with them for a completely miserable Sunday. He had to catch up on his lessons with Severus, grade a weekend's worth of essays, review the lesson plan for the coming week, and try to negotiate the terms of his new relationship with Severus, all while knowing Ron, Hermione, and Neville were out having fun.

The bit about his relationship was really bollocks, though. He was too busy to do much other than accept the cup of tea that was handed to him and reminded that he had to go to both lunch and dinner. Severus went to bed significantly before he did, and by the time Harry collapsed onto their bed at quarter past three in the morning, Severus was quite asleep and Harry was too tired to care. It did not make for a romantic start.

63

On the other hand, things did change.

Harry and Severus sat together at meals. Not some meals when it was convenient, but almost every single one. At first it involved a strange sort of magic Harry could never quite see and nobody else seemed to exactly notice, but after a few days there were always two empty seats next to each other waiting for them without Filius appearing on the other end of the table, or Hagrid's chair switching spots while nobody was watching. There weren't any public displays of affection, of course, but knowing that he cared enough to make it happen was extraordinary.

They sat together while grading as well. That wasn't new either, but there was no longer a couch between them. Piles of essays were strictly kept to the coffee table, inkwells set to hover nearby, and while there was no direct contact due to a need to write, there was an undeniable physical closeness.

Good night kisses morphed from a slight brushing of the lips to something far more intense. So did good morning kisses, back-from-teaching kisses, I-just-beat-you-at-chess-and-need-to-literally-rub-your-face-in-it kisses, and, of course, by the Forest kisses. Harry was a huge fan of these kisses. They never wavered, never grew less intense, he never learned how to compensate for how incredible Severus was so he could properly return the kiss, and when he realized he wasn't being so much kissed as ravished, and on a regular basis, he enjoyed them even more.

And, well. There were the kisses that turned into more than kisses. They didn't stray beyond what they had done the first night, but they didn't need to, at least not yet. Harry was still very new at—well everything, and he appreciated the slowness. They never talked about it, of course, but he had the distinct feeling it wasn't accidental, and that Severus was giving him time to get his bearings. Harry had no idea how long they would stay where they were, and while he didn't care at first, he found himself getting excitedly antsy. Was he supposed to initiate it, or would it be up to Severus, when he felt Harry ready? One of the thousands of questions Harry had about the situation he didn't dare ask.

There were, of course, the things that didn't change. The words I love you were not repeated, and that Harry left up to Severus. Aside from eating together, their public relationship remained the same. There were those who suspected, Minerva chief among them, but other than his friends, no one knew for sure. Severus didn't suddenly become bright and shiny, he pushed Harry just as hard in lessons as he had before, and they still fought. They would usually cool off by the time they got into bed, but there were a few nights spent at opposite edges of the mattress, tugging angrily at the blankets so they would both be covered.

The second Wednesday in April Harry was pulled out of class to meet with a group of researchers from St. Mungo's. Minerva was extremely upset about it, especially given that nobody had told her it was going to happen, but the head Healer had a letter from the Board of Governors with permission and dates and signatures, so there was nothing to be done. This time she and Poppy both supervised, though there wasn't much they could do about it. Harry was subjected to the same poking, prodding, sampling, and demonstrating as he was before. This time they learned to ask before taking any venom, and Harry flat-out refused to give them a scale. When they pushed him, he said, quite calmly, that he would give them a scale when each of them sliced off a piece of their skin to give to him in the interest of research, and that ended the conversation.

When they finally left, Poppy gave him the same concoction of medication she did last time: Dittany, Pepperup and Blood Replenishing potion. He had missed dinner, and this time Minerva insisted he stay and have a few sandwiches before leaving. Harry wanted to protest, to tell her that he was too tired and wanted to go to bed and just the thought of chewing hurt, but he was too tired for that as well.

Halfway through his meal the door to the infirmary slammed open and Severus swept in, robes billowing, looking so furious Harry momentarily forgot he was no longer a student and prepared himself to be screamed at.

"What is this?" he hissed, coming to stand by the edge of Harry's bed. "Harry disappears for hours on end and I find him in the infirmary?"

Minerva handed him the letter from the Governors while Harry nibbled at his sandwich, trying not to be pleased that Severus was so upset on his behalf. It never occurred to him what having that sort of power and anger on his side would be like. Severus skimmed it, the parchment crinkling under his fingers as he tightened his grip.

"Why was I not called?" he asked through gritted teeth, handing the note back.

"The situation was under control," Minerva replied, and Harry heard a tone in her voice that didn't bode well. "I would think our own Healer as well as the Headmistress would serve as better guardians than a mentor."

Ah, so they were going to have this conversation now. Harry supposed he knew it was coming from the moment he moved in with Severus, and certainly since their relationship changed, but that didn't mean he was any more prepared for it.

"You do not think it relevant that I am the one who has gone through this with Harry from the beginning?" Severus asked. "I know his condition as well as he does, and certainly better than either of you. What gives you the impression you are qualified to treat him at all? Have you any knowledge of the physiology of reptiles? You wouldn't know what to guard against in the first place."

"Only Harry knows where to draw the line," Minerva replied, lips thinning. "The Board has given St. Mungo's carte blanche to do as they see fit. It is Harry's responsibility to speak up for himself, and mine to enforce his needs, jobs we are fully capable of handling on our own."

"The remedies I gave Harry are the same that he took the last time the Healers were here," Poppy said. "All old cures that have been tested time and time again over the centuries. I know full well of the excessive use of Pepperup the two of you employed several years ago, Dittany is known to work on animals as well as humans, and if Blood Replenishing potion can work on any blood type, it can certainly handle Harry."

"You should have sent word," Severus said cuttingly.

"I didn't think you kept such close tabs on Harry," Minerva replied, sounding and looking like that's exactly what she thought. "I did not think a few hours of absence was enough to warrant your attention."

"When he does not show up for his lesson it does indeed 'warrant my attention'," Severus said, placing an ironic emphasis on Minerva's words. "Harry told me what the 'Healers' did to him the last time they were here, and the abuse they inflicted on him is enough to warrant anyone's attention."

"I was not aware you cared so deeply, Severus," Minerva said. "Your feelings are truly, very touching. In the future when you are overcome with emotion, I would ask you to refrain from raising your voice and challenging my authority, regardless of any hidden wells of suppressed compassion."

Harry briefly wondered if Severus was going to set Minerva on fire with the force of his glare. Then the anger faded away, replaced with concern, and he looked at Harry for the first time. "Are you all right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I'm sore and tired, but I'm fine."

Severus brushed Harry's fringe to the side, and Harry glowed at the private gesture done in front of others. "You should have called me."

"I didn't have time," Harry replied honestly. "I got pulled out in the middle of class and dragged up here. Besides, really, I can handle myself." He tried a small smile. "I am rather dangerous, you know."

Severus frowned. "Do not make light of this. I will have a word with the Governors, and—"

"You will not," Minerva interrupted sharply. "I had to fight very hard to convince them to let Harry continue to work here, and you will do nothing to jeopardize his position."

"There is only so much room in my infirmary," Poppy said. "Especially when occupied by a fifty foot snake. Even if you had known, I would have sent you away."

Severus muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "I'd like to see you try," and Harry couldn't help but smile. Then, surprising everyone, Severus said in Parseltongue, "Do not let this happen again, especially without me. I do not trust these idiots."

Harry answered him in Parseltongue as well. "I told you, I didn't have any control over it."

"That is my point!" Severus hissed loudly. "You need someone who will put your needs first, not those of the school."

Harry's eyes hardened. "Minerva would never do that."

"Clearly she has," Severus replied, gesturing at the letter from the Governors. "I would never have agreed to such a thing."

"So you'd have let them sack me?" Harry challenged. "I'd be in the Hebrideans if it weren't for Minerva."

Severus' expression softened. "No, of course not, but—"

"Trust me," Harry said, reaching out and taking his hand. Severus squeezed back for a moment before letting go.

"Harry has agreed that I should be present at any future research explorations in order to translate," Severus said in English. "As I am the only one who can understand Harry in his other form, my presence is both convenient and a safety measure I am shocked you failed to account for. As Poppy put it, having a fifty foot snake loose in the infirmary is hardly ideal, and communication under such circumstances is key."

Harry was about to protest, to announce that wasn't what they had been talking about at all, but he decided it might be wiser to keep his mouth shut.

"There is no other reason you feel so strongly about being present?" Minerva asked.

"Do you want to tell her?" Harry asked in Parseltongue. "We haven't talked about it, but everyone already knows. There's no reason not to."

"It is our business and no one else's," Severus replied.

"I know you're private, but really, she knows," Harry said. "What do you think Minerva thinks we're talking about now? Your translating abilities?"

Severus grimaced. "After what you have been through today, if it is that important to you, fine."

Harry's jaw dropped. He never thought Severus would agree, and definitely not so quickly, and absolutely not without an argument. "He'll be here because I want him here," Harry said in English. "Severus doesn't like the idea of being needed, that's why he didn't want to tell you, but he's right. I need someone who knows about me and my condition, and someone I can talk to." He put the plate of sandwiches on the bedside table and stood. "Assuming my duties to the Governors are filled, I'm done with this."

There were no protests—no words at all, actually—so Harry left, Severus at his side.

As soon as they were out of the room, Severus asked quietly, "I thought you were going to tell them?"

Harry shrugged, smiling slightly. "It's more important to you than to me." He took Severus' hand again, this time not letting go. "Besides, really, everyone knows. It doesn't matter."

"They certainly will if you do not release my hand," Severus replied irritably, not making any move to pull away. "Have you eaten enough?"

The sandwiches were sitting like a lead ball in Harry's stomach. "Yeah," he said unhappily. "No more food. A dose of muscle relaxant, then a shower, then bed. I'll make up my lesson tomorrow."

"I believe you have learned enough for the day," Severus replied. "Today's lesson may have been in the idiocy of bureaucracy, but it is one you must become familiar with."

"Yeah," Harry said again. The farther they walked the more uncomfortable he became, and by the time they reached the lab, he could barely lift his feet enough to get to the potion.

"You are in no condition to shower," Severus said, anger slipping in again. "Magically rid yourself of the residue from their tests, and I will draw you a bath."

Harry nearly choked, coughing painfully as the potion stuck in his throat. "I can—"An interruption to cough again. "—take care of my own—" He cleared his throat, making an awful sound in the process. "—baths."

"And yet you will not," Severus replied. "Stop coughing, I can see it hurts your back. Do not drink too much potion, either; I won't have you turn into a slug again."

Harry blushed. "That was just that one time, and I had just finished the first version, and I didn't know how strong it was. And I wasn't a slug, I just…"

"Could not move on your own," Severus supplied. "Stop arguing. Clean yourself, and come in when you are ready."

"Also, I can't control if I'm coughing or not!" Harry called after him, suddenly realizing the ridiculousness of the statement. "Clearly I wouldn't be if I had the choice!" Which was a bit ironic, as yelling caused another bout of coughing. When it finally subsided, he finished the dose of potion and rolled his shoulders, trying to see if it helped. It was always good for after a long day of standing up or if he fell asleep on the couch and woke up with a crick in his neck, but changing back and forth from a Basilisk for several hours straight was different. He determined that, yes, his muscles had relaxed, but they were still screaming in pain from having been stretched and squeezed and broken.

Almost an improvement.

Harry performed a quick Terego and went inside. The door to the bathroom was open a crack, the sound of running water and the smell of raspberries drifting out. Harry made sure he didn't look too happy about Severus taking care of him; if there was one way to make him angry, it was to acknowledge when he was nice. Instead Harry went into the kitchen and made himself a cup of tea, heating the water and infusing it with chamomile instantaneously. There were definitely benefits to being familiar with potions. He slowly sipped his drink, willing himself to remain on his feet and not sit down, knowing if he did he wouldn't be able to get back up.

The issue became less important as he lost himself in thought, his aching muscles fading from his mind and replaced with more important ideas. Questions, really, always questions. What did it mean that Severus was willing to tell people about their relationship? It could have just been the practical realization that, yes, everyone knew, especially Minerva. If she ever had any doubts, the way he had acted in the infirmary would have squashed them. Harry smiled to himself. He had grown up alone, he was independent, he had taken on Voldemort and won, but there was something so basely comforting about Severus standing up for him like that. He wasn't a damsel in distress, he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but it was nice, sometimes, to have someone do it for him.

Like running a bath, for instance. It was one of those disarmingly sweet actions Severus so rarely did, the sort of thing Ron and Hermione would never believe. Still, though, it raised a whole host of questions, the most important of which was whether or not Severus was expecting to join him, and how to navigate finding the answer. Of course he could just ask him to stay, but that seemed too forward, and, well. For all of the fooling around they had done, Harry had never actually seen, and had never actually been himself. Rather, they had, but under the blankets and by the very dim light of a fire. There was no standing around naked, or long, extended cuddling without clothes. Harry wanted there to be, wanted both of those things very much, but he was so tired, and everything hurt. He was fairly certain such states would lead in a very specific direction that he also wanted, but was still a little scared, and he was already sore and didn't really want to instigate an activity that would push and stretch his muscles more than they already were. Of course that particular activity would offer significantly more pleasure than changing back and forth, but that didn't mitigate how sore he already was. Not to mention that he didn't exactly look his best at the moment. He wasn't obviously bruised and Dittany had taken care of the needle marks, but even if there wasn't a specific physical flaw from the Healers, he had been put through his paces and there was no way he looked his best.

The water shut off, and Harry quickly finished his tea and headed towards the bathroom. His stomach was filled with butterflies and lead sandwiches and tea, and he felt a little like throwing up. In a good way, except for the sandwiches. Those were just awful. Severus—fully clothed—stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door behind himself.

"Did the muscle relaxant help?" Severus asked.

"Not really," Harry replied nervously.

Severus frowned slightly. "You do not look well. Are you certain you are okay?"

Harry flushed. "Yeah, I'm just tired and in pain. You're right, a bath's probably a better idea than a shower. Less standing."

"Indeed." Severus closed the distance between them, tilted Harry's face up and kissed him. Gently but insistently, long enough to make Harry sigh and lean against him. Severus supported him for a moment before pulling away. "Go, before the water gets cold."

That answered that question, and Harry was equal parts disappointed and relieved. Harry leaned up for a brief kiss and quietly said, "Thank you." Then he added in Parseltongue, "For in the infirmary, too." It seemed less likely to anger him if the words weren't spoken in English, though Harry still probably should have gone without.

On the other hand, the look Severus gave him was heart-meltingly intense, and when he gently brushed Harry's cheek with his hand, Harry decided it was, in fact, the right thing to say.

"Do you have any plans this weekend?" Severus asked.

Harry looked at him, confused. "No, same as always. Lessons, grading, brewing, y'know. Why, is there something I should know about?"

"I would like to take you to dinner," Severus replied. Harry froze, caught completely off guard. "Friday night."

Harry needed a moment to remember how to think. "I, yeah, okay, that'd be good."

Severus allowed himself a very small smile before going back to ordering him around. "You are wasting the hot water. Even with a warming spell, it will not last forever."

Harry smiled back. It was an effort to not explode into a giant, all-consuming grin, but he kept it at a more normal quirk of the lips. "Okay, sorry. Going now."

Stepping into the bathroom was like what Harry imagined stepping into heaven would be like. Billowy white clouds of raspberry scented steam, sauna-esque warmth, light coming from strategically placed candles, and a tub filled with drifts of light blue bubbles. He was having a very hard time reckoning this scene with Severus. He quickly stripped down and sunk into the tub.

Oh.

The water was the perfect temperature, the bubbles were delightfully fluffy, and Severus had somehow charmed the tub to be soft and cushiony instead of hard porcelain. The raspberry infusion was already sinking into his muscles, healing and relaxing. Harry closed his eyes and relaxed. This wasn't like walking into heaven; it was heaven. And Severus had given it to him.

Harry found himself wishing very much that Severus had chosen to join him, no matter how awkward it would be. They'd see each other naked in good lighting eventually, so why not tonight? As for going further, they didn't have to. If he was leaning against Severus instead of the pillow-esque tub, his hand would be in a perfect position to slide in from his hip, and…

Harry sighed contentedly, arching up into his hand.

"Feeling better?" Severus asked silkily, trailing his fingers along Harry's shaft, teasing more than pleasuring.

"Mm," Harry sighed. "More."

Severus tightened his hand just slightly. "I love seeing you like this," he breathed. "Spread out in front of me, thrusting into my hand."

Harry laughed breathlessly. "I love it more."

Severus shifted, and suddenly there was a hardness pressing against him, pushing between his cheeks and doing no more. "I doubt it."

Harry wriggled back against him, then forward into his hand. "More."

"Impatient brat," Severus whispered, kissing the spot just below his ear, the one he knew was sensitive. He licked, nibbled gently, then kissed again. Harry shifted against him, whimpering quietly. He gripped Severus' thigh with his left hand and grabbed his wrist with his other, trying to speed his movements. "Very impatient," Severus amended.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "Yeah, more, please? Faster?"

"I draw you a bath," Severus said. "I defend your honor, draw you a bath, and you expect to boss me around in bed as well?"

"We're in the bath," Harry corrected. "And yes."

Severus growled lowly, rubbing himself against Harry. He didn't go faster, but he did localize his attention to Harry's head, thumbing his slit and tightening his grip. "Remind me again why I spoil you so?"

Harry grinned, or tried to. It was rather difficult to keep control of his expressions in this particular situation. "Because I do this." He shifted, lifted his hips, and impaled himself. Severus groaned in response, thrusting up uncontrollably. Harry moaned, lowering himself as Severus continued to touch him. Once he was sitting again, the entirety of Severus' length inside him, he added, "Because you love me."

"Brat." Severus started rocking against him, not so much thrusting as creating a slight friction, his hand matching pace. "Relax. You won't feel better if you're so tense."

"Beg to differ," Harry said, wiggling against him, needing more. "I'm fine. Just need more."

"I thought you were in pain," Severus said teasingly. "Is that not why I drew you a bath and am bending to your every whim?"

"Right, so go faster," Harry whined, lifting himself and dropping back down. At least trying to; the slickness of the tub made such movements very difficult. "That's my whim."

Severus released his cock, eliciting a loud whimper, and grabbed his hips, momentarily stilling him. "Do you promise not to complain?"

"Fuck yes," Harry whimpered, pushing back, rutting helplessly against the water.

"Okay," Severus whispered, drawing the word out, breathing into his ear. The hands on his hips tightened, and suddenly Severus was lifting and dropping, slamming up into him, changing the angle so he rubbed against his prostate with every stroke, and Harry was screaming, his voice echoing off the tiled walls, one hand going to touch himself, needing something more, he was so close, he was tightening, his body taking control of the rhythm and forcing Severus to relent control.

"Fuck, Harry." Severus' voice was strained and tight, muffled slightly by his lips pressing against his neck. "More. Tighter."

Harry tried to laugh at the change in their rolls, but it just came out a breathy pant. He squeezed his muscles and Severus let out a low groan, slamming up into him. Harry gasped, tightening his hand, riding Severus and rutting into himself uncontrollably, chasing what was right there, so close, just a tiny bit more, if he could just—

Just actually have his cock in him. Imagery could only get him so far when he needed to be filled, taken, claimed. He'd gotten used to Severus' hand, and while he could imitate his movements, there was no substitute for the large, strong, calloused fingers he was used to. He couldn't generate enough friction on the tub to finger himself at all, which was probably just as well because, again, Severus was so much bigger than him in every way, fingers included, so it would be more teasing than helpful.

Harry whimpered, head thrown back against the edge of the tub, giving himself as much as he could which, apparently, wasn't anywhere near enough these days. He could get Severus off; surely he ought to be able to handle himself. He'd been doing so for years, this wasn't new.

He whimpered again. Fuck he was close, it just wasn't—quite—enough.

Not to mention, kind of pathetically, that fantasy-Severus was right, and the stress he was putting on his already taxed body was not helping. An actual release probably would, but getting wound up and held at the edge like this was in no way relaxing. Everything hurt worse than it had before despite the raspberry infusion and the cushioned tub. He shouldn't have started this in the first place; he should've just laid back and relaxed and, if he wanted to fool around, ask Severus afterwards. Instead he had to go and ruin his bath. The bath that Severus had prepared for him in an uncharacteristic bout of niceness.

Harry rested his hands on the side of the tub and closed his eyes. He was going to enjoy this, dammit. Nice and relaxing, easing the tension out of his muscles, repairing the minute rips and tears from changing so often, all of that. No stress. No stubborn erection. No inability to get himself off anymore. Just… relaxing.

Fuck it.

Harry let out the water and dried himself off despite his screaming muscles and despite the screaming voice in his head telling him he was being ungrateful and unreasonable and that he needed to learn patience. Just leaning over to dry himself properly hurt, and when he wrapped the towel around his waist, it was more than obvious what his problem was. It didn't help that he hadn't thought to bring his pajamas in; not that they would have disguised his erection, but at least he wouldn't be half naked as well.

Severus was in the living room, but didn't turn around when Harry came out.

"Was your bath unsatisfactory?" he asked coolly.

"No," Harry said quickly. "No, um, not at all. A bit too satisfactory?"

Severus turned around, lips pursed in annoyance. "What—" His eyes drifted lower, and his expression turned into a smirk. "Ah, I see."

Harry crossed his arms and looked at the ceiling, unable to meet Severus' eyes. "So, um."

"You could not take care of your situation on your own?" Severus asked, though he sounded quite pleased.

"Er, well, turns out I'm used to you," Harry said, still not meeting his eyes. This was humiliating. Not to mention that standing hurt, as well as the towel that rubbed against him when he did things like shift his weight or breathe.

The smile in Severus' voice was obvious. "You cannot come without me?"

Fucking hell. "Look, just take it as a compliment, all right? Everything hurts and I'm bloody exhausted so I'm going to go lie down. If you want to join me, clearly I would like that." Harry wasn't even through the bedroom door when Severus appeared behind him, resting a hand on his bare back, leaning over his shoulder and whispering in his ear.

"You expect me to turn down such an offer?"

Harry's eyes closed, he inhaled sharply, and he shivered. Severus wrapped an arm firmly around him, probably to make sure he didn't outright collapse, and that was good. "I'm really tired," he breathed, forcing his legs to work. "And everything hurts."

"Is that a warning of a lack of reciprocity?" Severus asked, helping Harry onto their bed and unwrapping the towel.

"No," Harry said, eyes still closed, snuggling into the pillows. Lying down was good. Possibly better than what was coming. Severus didn't reply right away, and Harry sleepily opened his eyes. Severus was sitting on the side of the bed looking at him hungrily, like he had never seen him before.

Which, Harry suddenly realized, he hadn't.

Harry froze, wincing as his abused muscles tightened. It hadn't occurred to him that he wasn't dressed or that the room was well lit or that he wasn't under the blankets or—

"I'll just, uh," Harry stammered, trying to get the blankets out from underneath himself. Then Severus was over him, pushing him down, crashing their lips together. His hands were everywhere and Harry moaned, mostly from his touch and partially from the release of tension that came with his obvious approval. He couldn't do much other than let himself be kissed and touched—moving was far too difficult—but it seemed Severus was plenty occupied without him doing anything other than being there.

This was so much better than the bath. The bath had been good, very good, heavenly, but this was better. He was warm from the fire and Severus' body heat, he was being completely ravished, someone far more skilled than he was touching his erection, and, well, it was Severus. He loved Severus. Being with him, under him, touched by him, kissed by him, that was all better than not having those things happen.

Severus broke the kiss but kept his mouth very active, kissing and licking his way down Harry's body. He left several marks on his neck that were sure to be very obvious and another on his collarbone (that nearly caused Harry to come on its own; Severus had discovered the sensitivity of his collar bones a few weeks ago and used it to his full advantage as often as possible). He teased his nipples, biting just past what was purely comfortable in a way that somehow made it more erotic. His ribs and stomach were thoroughly explored, and by the time Severus replaced the very light grip on his cock with his mouth, Harry was gone.

Time stretched forever, pleasure and heat and Severus all he could register. Slowly he started to breathe again, his body relaxed completely, all evidence of his earlier activities gone, and he hummed contentedly when Severus pulled the blankets over him. He wasn't quite sure how he had gotten them from beneath him in the first place, but it wasn't relevant. Severus gave him a brief kiss before dimming the light and starting to leave.

"Wait," Harry muttered, forcing his eyes open. "Wait, no, come back. What about you?"

"You need to sleep," Severus said firmly.

Harry frowned. "No, I want to."

"That is a shame, because you will not be," Severus replied with a bit of a smile. "Go to sleep, Harry. I can take care of myself, unlike some."

"But—"

Severus silenced him with another kiss. "I will be back shortly and read while you sleep, all right?"

"Fine," Harry mumbled, realizing his eyes had already closed again and he was too tired to argue further. "Love you."

Shit. What was wrong with him tonight? First learning that he couldn't come without Severus, followed by telling him that, and now saying—

Severus ran a hand through Harry's hair. "As do I."

Harry fell asleep sporting a ridiculous smile before Severus had left the room.

An unknown amount of time later, Harry was aware of being drawn into a tight hug, of warm skin against his, of silk against his arse. He frowned slightly.

"Pajamas?" he muttered, almost completely asleep. "Should I—"

"Shh," Severus interrupted. "I did not mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."

Harry would have liked to ponder this turn of events but he was already asleep.