"Severus? I know I said I'd never bring the subject up again, but can I ask you one more question?" Harry asked.
He would have granted Harry any boon at that moment. "Yes, of course."
"Does helping me with my nightmares . . . disturb you? I don't understand how you can help me like you do if the idea of my touching your thoughts upsets you this much."
Severus lowered his gaze to where Harry's free hand was resting on the blanket covering his arm. The contrast of the sleeve of Harry's bright red jumper against the dark blue of the blanket was very pleasing. "You're not awake when I intervene in the nightmares. It's almost a one way exchange."
"You read my thoughts, but since I'm asleep, I can't read or remember yours," Harry said. Amazingly enough, he didn't sound angry at the basic unfairness of the set up.
"Precisely."
Severus held his breath, awaiting some kind of explosion, but Harry simply vented a deep sigh and said, "Thank Merlin. You've helped me so much. I'd hate to think that it was ripping you apart inside every time you touched my mind. It's bad enough that it drains your powers so much."
Stunned, Severus realized that that truly had been Harry's worry. He wasn't concerned about the inequity of the exchange, just that it hadn't upset or hurt him.
"What is it?" Harry asked, his question no doubt spurred by whatever was showing on Severus' face.
"I would think you'd be angry at the unfairness of the exchange, especially in light of your desire to touch my thoughts," Severus confessed, needing to understand Harry's motivation even if his question risked creating friction between them.
"You just told me that your mind was repeatedly raped. I remember how horrible that felt the one time Voldemort did it to me. I can't imagine what you must have gone through. How could I be angry at you when you're doing something you hate just to help me?" Harry's gaze was meltingly tender as it held his.
Was this what it meant to be in love, Severus wondered as Harry leaned in to kiss his brow. Did the other person's comfort and happiness take precedence over one's own? If that were the definition of love, then Harry's behaviour seemed to indicate that he really was in love with him. It took Severus a bit longer to recognize that his own offer to accompany Harry to the Weasleys' tomorrow fell into the same category of self-sacrifice, and indicated that the reverse was also true, that he loved Harry Potter.
Severus experienced a moment of sheer panic at the discovery. He could feel his heart pounding madly, while the rest of him seemed to freeze. The degree of vulnerability that this level of emotional attachment to Harry entailed was terrifying. He'd known that losing Harry would destroy him when it had only been sex between them. What would that inevitable parting do to him now that it was so much more?
"What is it?" Harry whispered into his ear. "You've just gone stiff as a board, and not in a good way."
Severus could barely think over the pounding of his heart. But he had to answer.
Harry raised his head and was now looking at Severus, awaiting a response.
"It's . . . nothing," Severus tried to dismiss Harry's question, hating the shadow that passed through Harry's gaze at his evasion. His heart thundered even louder.
Harry stared into his eyes for a moment longer. "Whatever it is, it will be all right. I promise."
Severus rallied enough to snort at the absurd assurance. "How can you promise when you don't know the particulars of what you're promising?"
"I know that look on your face, and I know you," Harry answered, running his fingertips under Severus' left eye, tracing the wrinkles at its corner. "I'll make it all right for you. Whatever it is, we'll fix it together."
Severus felt his lips twitch at the hopeless idealism. "Does it never occur to you that some things . . . some people are broken beyond repair?"
Harry's hand slipped down to his chin, his thumb stroking over his jaw as Harry answered, "Yes, but you're not one of them."
Once again, Harry managed to destroy him with a single line.
Those green eyes were lit with inner fire, an emotion that made them nearly incandescent. Severus had never had such an expression focused on him before. The faith, the utter certainty in Harry's reply totally undid him. Then Harry kissed him, deep and slow, with a bone-melting tenderness that only accentuated how lethal this attachment was.
There was no hope of denying the kiss, no chance of pulling back to find an emotionally secure distance. Severus succumbed to it just as he had to Malfoy's touch in first year, to Cascius Burke's alluring power at eighteen, to a host of other wizards whose power had blinded him. Only, this time there was one major difference to distinguish this relationship from all his other failed attempts. This wasn't about power for Harry. Harry didn't want to own, hurt, use, dominate, or debase him. It wasn't even simply about fucking anymore, or their détente, or their budding friendship. What it was about floored him.
Without Severus' even noticing it was happening, everything had changed, and not just for Harry.
He'd never felt this much for anyone in his life. But, perhaps even more importantly, no one had ever demonstrated such consideration or caring towards him. Not even the cynic in Severus could doubt Harry's sincerity. At absolutely every opportunity he had given his young lover to hurt or disappoint him, Harry had shown that his regard was more than lip service.
The care with which Harry was touching him now was enough to make him a true believer. Harry's fingers and lips dallied over his eyes, his cheeks, his brow, even his over-sized nose with such tender attention that it felt like worship.
Severus sighed as Harry's lips moved to nuzzle his neck. His clothes were gently peeled away, each section of bared skin stroked or kissed as it was exposed to the flickering firelight. It felt almost as though Harry were taking great pains to move slowly after Severus' no doubt disturbing admission, like he was trying to make up for a lifetime of misuse with his tenderness.
Three months ago Severus would have scoffed at the possibility of anything easing the scars and traumas of his past, but there was something almost healing about Harry's touch.
Severus couldn't sense any actual magic being transferred, but every one of Harry's caresses and kisses seemed to leave a tingling glow on his skin. As he sank into a state of sensual lassitude, it almost felt as though he were sheltered in an invisible web of caring . . . or maybe even love. He didn't know enough about that emotion to recognize it.
With a thought, Harry vanished his own clothes away like morning mist under the sun.
Harry was always affectionate and thorough in their foreplay, but tonight he was breathtakingly gentle. Having expected his confession of the abuse he'd permitted in his younger days to earn him Harry's contempt, the reverent kisses and caresses Harry lavished upon him left Severus a shuddering wreck.
His naked back was pressed into the soft velvet of the couch cushions as Harry lay curled between his legs, slowly working his way downwards with lips, tongue, and fingers.
How Harry could still want him after hearing what he'd allowed others to do totally mystified him. He'd thought that a wizard as heroic and utterly Gryffindor as Harry would consider him tainted goods when told of his humiliating past. But Harry touched him as though he were something precious and pure.
Harry didn't loose his power upon him tonight as was their usual habit. Instead, Harry kept everything on an equal level as he kissed his way down his chest, pausing to pamper his nipples with playful sucking.
Severus was so accustomed to being blasted away by Harry's greater power that he hardly ever noticed anything beyond the magnificence of the magic moving through and around him. But tonight he remained clear-headed enough to note the expression softening Harry's features as he made love to him. In his whole life, sex had never been about emotion, but the feelings he could see in Harry's face made his insides clutch in reaction.
He was struck by Harry's almost inherent protectiveness. Every one of Harry's touches seemed intended to reassure and please his lover, rather than stake him out as Harry's own territory or plaything.
Instead of feeling mortified and embarrassed by his earlier confession, Severus was grateful he'd spoken. Harry mightn't know the worst of his transgressions, but he now knew enough to have totally abandoned him had he been put off by the darker aspects of his past. That hadn't happened. Harry was here, worshipping his body, treating him like a cherished gift instead of damaged goods.
Severus shook as Harry's slick tongue followed the inverted arrow of body hair down the centre of his stomach. His head tossing from the delightful sensations, his hands moved restlessly through Harry's messy hair as Harry nosed through his pubic hair, moving lower.
Harry's mouth was an intense, wet heat as it surrounded his cock. The suction was sublime, fully as arousing as any of the incredible magic Harry had loosed upon him over the last few months. He groaned and gasped as Harry swallowed him whole. Firm hands cupped his buttocks, encouraging the rhythm of his thrusts.
When Severus felt seconds away from exploding, Harry pulled his mouth away.
His dismayed cry was still echoing through the sitting room when he felt Harry's solid heat cover every inch of him. Harry carefully nestled their rock-hard cocks together as he settled on top of him and took his open mouth in another kiss.
Severus could taste the bitter-sweet flavour of his own cock in Harry's mouth. It was incredibly arousing, but not nearly as much so as the exquisite rocking Harry began. As his handsome lover humped down against him, his entire body exploded in delight like a supernova. The position was devastatingly sensual, and yet gentle. Harry kept kissing him as though he couldn't get enough of him.
Familiarity was supposed to breed contempt, but Severus had never had anyone take so much care with him during intercourse.
Severus came first, breaking the kiss with a moan as he bathed both their bellies and groins with his sticky gift. A heartbeat later, Harry added his own warm outpouring to the mess between them, and then collapsed on him, Harry's nose buried in the crook of his neck.
Severus stroked Harry's sweat-slick back as their breathing slowly stabilized and reality realigned itself around them.
Harry was licking away the perspiration pooled in the hollow of his throat as he lay there, each of his warm, moist breaths making Severus shiver anew as it brushed his sensitive neck. The fingers of Harry's left hand were playing through Severus' chest hair, curling it around his index finger in a ringlet and then letting it spring back.
"You could have used your magic if you'd wanted," Severus said as he brushed Harry's sweat-soaked fringe off his face. He knew it was his lover's sense of chivalry that had doubtless caused Harry's restraint after hearing about his past.
"I know," Harry answered in a contented voice. "Sometimes I just want to feel you with my skin alone."
