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He'd never had a sleepy morning lie in with a lover. Hell, for that matter, he'd never had a lover, not one like Severus, who welcomed him every night and didn't require him to live up to his press. This was . . . wonderful, absolutely perfect.
His body apparently agreed, because within moments, he was spraying his seed over their tight pressed bellies. Since Severus immediately followed suit, Harry didn't feel an apology necessary.
Severus was regarding him as though he expected one to be demanded of him. He looked as though he couldn't quite believe his own temerity.
"God, you're amazing," Harry sighed once they managed to rip their mouths away from each other. To his relief, the worry instantly left Severus' eyes, to be replaced by that light Harry had noticed last night. He wondered if his own reaction were that obvious, and he suspected that he was probably much worse since he'd never been good at hiding his feelings.
"That head injury was quite serious, wasn't it?" Severus shocked him by joking. Beneath his outer cool, Severus looked like he was ready to burst from excitement.
"Sure feels serious from where I'm lying," Harry replied, the words taking on another meaning entirely as they escaped his lips.
Severus' eyebrows tried to climb off his forehead as he obviously absorbed the deeper meaning.
Recognizing his mistake, Harry tried to back paddle with, "Ignore me. My brain doesn't start functioning until my first coffee."
Everything feeling deadly serious at the moment, Harry held his breath, awaiting his fate.
After the longest pause in the history of the universe, Severus offered a painfully self-conscious, "Yet, truth so often seems to escape when we are not at our best."
Severus looked as panicked as Harry felt, even though his face was locked in that non-expression.
The tightness in Harry's chest slowly unfurled as he untangled what the words were really saying. Snape had courage; Harry had to hand it to him. Every time Harry did something stupid and expected Severus to bolt, Severus surprised him by handling it. It meant a lot to him that Severus would offer him that comfort after he'd so stupidly babbled out something that every wizard over the age of fourteen knew better than to voice.
Harry knew the ball was back in his court. He could laugh the whole thing off. That would be the wise thing to do. Instead, he held Severus' gaze and offered a quiet, "Yes, it does."
Right choice.
Though the emotions were clearly too much for Severus to openly address, the way the tension seemed to seep out of his tight-held form spoke volumes.
"Er, what are your plans for the day?" Harry asked, hoping to put things back on a normal footing, as if there were any such thing after waking up in Severus Snape's bed.
Severus drew in a deep breath. "Beyond working in the lab, I hadn't any." Seeming to be mentally reminding himself that conversation was a two-way affair, Severus visibly forced himself to ask, "And you? What are your plans?"
"I play in an amateur Quidditch league. We practice every other Saturday morning. I'll, er, need to get moving soon," Harry said, wishing he could beg off the Quidditch, but he'd been injured two weeks ago and missed the last game.
"Yes, of course," Severus replied, his eyes shifting away, but not before Harry saw the regret in them.
Hoping he wasn't making another tactical error, Harry found himself asking, "Would you like to come watch? A lot of the blokes bring friends and family down. It'll be cold as hell and we'll doubtless freeze our balls off, but I thought we could have lunch afterwards and then maybe take in a show or something."
"A show?" Severus questioned.
"I sometimes go to the Muggle theatre. Hermione used to like it. She said a little culture never hurt anyone. I guess I grew used to going," Harry offered defensively, waiting for the scalding diatribe on what passed for Muggle culture that he knew Snape would have given years ago.
For all that he knew that Severus was a half-blood like Seamus Finnigan, Severus had never publicly owned up to it, choosing, like so many of his house, to scorn Muggle ways.
After a tense pause, Severus quietly said, "I've never been to a Muggle play."
"Would you like to go?" Harry asked.
Severus gave a slow nod.
"Perfect," Harry said, grinning because he really hadn't believed Severus would go for it.
"You do realize that you could ask me to go pet grindylows with you and I would gladly accompany you at this point, don't you?" Severus said, not nearly as disturbed by the fact as he should have been. "Clearly, you are not the only one suffering a serious head injury."
Laughing at Severus' affronted, yet amused, expression, Harry said, "I'll ask the lads to be careful not to send any bludgers your way in that case. Come on. We have to get dressed."
An hour later, Harry was leading Severus across the open sunny field where his team practiced. The goal posts weren't up yet, but it looked like most of the team and their guests were assembling at the far end of the wind-blown field.
Severus' black robes were flapping around him like a tall ship's mainsail. Harry's own blue Quidditch robes were equally airborne.
"Hey, Harry," Robbie Marstan greeted as Harry and Severus approached the group.
If Harry had a friend at all in the world these days, it was most probably the amiable Marstan. The tall, muscular blond was like an enormous puppy. Muggle born and reared, he shared a lot in common with Harry.
"Hi, ya, Robbie," Harry said, his arm resting on Severus' elbow. "This is my friend, Severus Snape. Severus, Robbie Marstan."
Robbie's blue eyes widened in shock as he recognized Severus. Snape was still as infamous these days as Harry was famous. To Harry's relief, the shock gave way to Robbie's usual, ready grin as he said, "Hello."
"Mr. Marstan, I've heard a lot about you," Severus said with a surprisingly courteous nod.
Startled, Harry realized that he'd babbled on about Robbie for some time at dinner last night. The really surprising part was that Severus would remember. Harry turned a soft smile on his lover, before turning back to his fellow Auror.
"Call me, Robbie, please," Robbie said, sticking out his hand. "Good to meet you, Severus."
Harry held his breath. He knew Severus wasn't fond of this kind of social gesture. But to his amazement, Severus accepted Robbie's hand, a grave expression on his face as he shook it.
"Betsy," Robbie yelled at the laughing mob a couple of yards away. "Come over here and meet Harry's friend."
Robbie's Muggle sister, a plump blonde woman with a ready smile like her brother's, crossed to join them, along with half the team.
"It's so good to meet you!" Betsy enthused. She was obviously completely unaware of Severus' press. "Harry's never brought anyone to a game before."
The next ten minutes passed in a blur of hellos as Severus was introduced to the team and their accompanying friends and relations. To Harry's relief, everyone was punctiliously polite. Most of his team were friendly towards Severus, if openly curious about his presence here.
"All right, you layabouts! Let's get started," Richardson, the dark haired team captain, called.
"Will you be all right with this crew?" Harry whispered to Severus before joining his team.
Severus nodded. "I assure you, I am quite capable of taking care of myself."
Realizing how foolish he was being, Harry quickly said, "Yes, of course. I was just thinking of your head injury, was all."
To his delight, the corners of Severus' lips twisted up in an almost smile. "Understandable. Do be careful. You are operating with one as well."
Harry grinned. Loving this unexpected, playful side of Severus he was discovering, he leaned in closer to Severus' ear, and softly confessed, "I know it's insane, but I really want to kiss you."
Despite being visibly shocked by Harry's words, Severus answered in a completely normal voice, "That would be most unwise."
