Weight of the World

VII.

“Ow ow ow,” Harry hissed under his breath. He'd been
lying awake for almost an hour, just enjoying the way the man beside
him had melted into the pillow in his sleep and the soft breath on
the top of his head. He hadn't want to disturb Snape, who looked to
be in a rather deep sleep, but now his body had reached the point
that if he didn't move soon, his limbs would go dead and he was no
longer quite as comfortable as he had been when he first woke up with
his face buried into the linen shirt still covering the older man's
chest. When he moved, the full soreness of his over-zealously abused
arse made itself known as a sharp ache that reached all the way up to
the curve of his back, and thus, the ow-ing.

“Morning,” Snape said without opening his eyes or
disturbing his apparent slumber.

“You! You're a faker!” Harry declared. “I thought
you were asleep!”

“I was resting,” Severus answered, slowly opening his
eyes and wrinkling his nose against the light.

“You weren't sleeping, and I was trying not to move so I
wouldn't disturb you,” Harry complained.

“I was under the impression you were trying not to move because
you are a reckless little idiot who has realized too late that your
actions last night have only made you suffer.” 'And
thinking about how disturbingly right it feels to have you resting
against me,' he thought.

“Ugh. Don't remind me,” Harry whined. “You were so
damned reticent, but it was obvious you were interested. By the time
you finally admitted it you had me so riled up that I can't be held
accountable for my actions after that!”

“Reticent? My my, learned a few ten point words from your
friend Granger at last, have you?”

“Yep. At the moment, I think 'famished' is a pretty good one.”
Harry replied, but when he moved to sit up grunted and fell back down
to his stomach on the mattress with a whimper of pain. “Uuugh,”
he whined. “Next time, don't let me do anything stupid.”

“You may as well ask me to blot out the sun, if that is the
sort of irrational request you are going to throw at me,” Snape
answered as he pulled himself into a seated position, adjusting the
pillows and leaning back against the headboard. “You are Harry
Potter. You've an entire resume of doing stupid things.”

“Bah,” Harry answered, though his voice was muffled by
the way his face was half-buried against the mattress. His stomach
rumbled.

Severus Snape, for the first time since he was very young, simply
couldn't help but smile. He ruffled Harry's dark hair.

Harry grumbled a bit, but lifted his head and crossed his arms to
form a little nook to rest his chin on as he looked up at the older
man. His eyelashes fluttered when Snape's fingers gently moved from
his messy hair down to caress his jaw, and he tilted a kiss into the
man's palm. It had only been one night, but it already felt like
they had always been like this. He had been about to ask Severus if
it felt the same for him when his stomach rumbled rather loudly.

Snape arched a thin eyebrow. “Famished, indeed,” he said.

“Chinese?” Harry asked.

“Chinese,” Severus confirmed, and grabbed his wand to
spell last night's leftovers out of the fridge.

He had only been out of Azkaban for one night, but one night, he knew
from experience, was more than enough to alter a life beyond repair.
And one night was more than enough to put one back together again.

~The End~