savine_snape (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} savine_snape) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} kingsleyfiction,@ 2009-05-03 14:44:00 |
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As Yet Untitled.
Title:
Author: Savine_Snape
Rating: PG-13
Written for Lulabell72 on LJ who screamed out for some Severus/Kingsley
Word Count: 686
Pairing: Kingsley/Severus
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Implied M/M although in the past off screen
Beta: sc010f
Disclaimer: I don’t own Potterverse; it all belongs to JK Rowling and others too numerous to mention. I make my money as a Muggle chemist.
Title:
Author: Savine_Snape
Rating: PG-13
Written for Lulabell72 on LJ who screamed out for some Severus/Kingsley
Word Count: 686
Pairing: Kingsley/Severus
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Implied M/M although in the past off screen
Beta: sc010f
Disclaimer: I don’t own Potterverse; it all belongs to JK Rowling and others too numerous to mention. I make my money as a Muggle chemist.
Kingsley stood at the window, watching, waiting, and willing his dour comrade to appear.
He had been gone for three days. Seventy-two hours, not that Kingsley had counted, nor would he admit it if Severus asked.
They had an understanding.
Fighting a war was hard work physically and emotionally. Their positions in Dumbledore’s master plan were balanced on a knife’s edge; emotions ran high on a daily basis.
The first time they tumbled into bed, Severus had just returned from a one-on-one meeting with the Dark Lord, thankful he’d survived but brisling with pent up emotions. The second time they’d been drowning their sorrows over turning thirty and having no regular shag potential. There had been numerous times since Voldemort’s reappearance when the pair had found themselves rutting away the tension.
Severus struggled to fill his lungs with air. He had survived – just - the punishment dished out over the failed mission to retrieve the prophecy from the Ministry.
The Dark Lord was annoyed that Lucius had been caught, that Severus hadn’t been there, that Potter had escaped. It didn’t help that Potter was growing stronger by the day.
Kingsley saw the hunched frame lurch forward in the driving rain, stumbling yet somehow managing to maintain their balance. The flash of lightning across the sky illuminated the bedraggled form.
“Shit!” Kingsley murmured, as he turned and grabbed his cloak from the chair.
Severus struggled, mentally chanting put one foot in front of the other. The crack of thunder hurt his head; the flash of lightning hurt his eyes. If he could just reach the house, he could summon help from there. Maybe Kingsley would be there, waiting, watching...
The sky was pitch-black once more. Kingsley opened the door and cursed, he had to find him, get him warm, and heal him. He was far too important, to him, to the war effort, to Potter’s survival.
With a deep breath, Kingsley pictured the last place he’d seen Severus and Apparated.
Severus stumbled once more as another clap of thunder rang out across the sky. This time he lost his balance and fell forward into a muddy puddle. He gasped as the air was forced out of his chest.
Allowing his eyes to close; he willed death to take him quickly.
Kingsley scanned the immediate vicinity for any sign of Severus.
Providence provided him with a blessed bolt of lightning – and he found Severus, just as he stumbled forward and collapsed in a heap on the sodden ground.
Kingsley rushed to his fallen comrade, lover, whatever, he couldn’t allow Severus to remain outside much longer.
Severus felt his chest burn as he took another breath, pain shot throughout his body. He whimpered.
“Severus?”
He was sure someone, somewhere was talking to him, but he was struggling to maintain consciousness let alone decipher speech. As he took another shuddering breath he felt strong, firm arms lift him from the ground. Delirious, he mumbled disjointed words as he felt the warmth of another’s presence penetrate his drenched clothing.
Kingsley spent the next four days caring for Severus. Changing his sweat soaked sheets each morning, bathing the frail form of his comrade, wiping a chilled cloth over his forehead to try and ease his fever.
He had had to summon Poppy to heal Severus’ broken bones, and she had provided him with a multitude of potions to aid his recovery. Kingsley conscientiously ensured that Severus took his potions at four hour intervals.
By the fifth day Severus awoke from his fever induced coma.
“Kingsley?” He whispered wondering if the man was nearby.
“You’ve woken then,” Kingsley stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Obviously. How long...?”
“You were with Voldemort for three days; you’ve slept for almost five.”
“Albus?”
“Is aware that you need to recover before briefing him on what has happened. Rest, you need it.” Kingsley stooped to place a kiss on Severus cheek before turning to leave.
Severus took Kingsley’s advice and sank back into the warmth of the bed, slowly stroking his cheek where his comrade had kissed him.
He had been gone for three days. Seventy-two hours, not that Kingsley had counted, nor would he admit it if Severus asked.
They had an understanding.
Fighting a war was hard work physically and emotionally. Their positions in Dumbledore’s master plan were balanced on a knife’s edge; emotions ran high on a daily basis.
The first time they tumbled into bed, Severus had just returned from a one-on-one meeting with the Dark Lord, thankful he’d survived but brisling with pent up emotions. The second time they’d been drowning their sorrows over turning thirty and having no regular shag potential. There had been numerous times since Voldemort’s reappearance when the pair had found themselves rutting away the tension.
Severus struggled to fill his lungs with air. He had survived – just - the punishment dished out over the failed mission to retrieve the prophecy from the Ministry.
The Dark Lord was annoyed that Lucius had been caught, that Severus hadn’t been there, that Potter had escaped. It didn’t help that Potter was growing stronger by the day.
Kingsley saw the hunched frame lurch forward in the driving rain, stumbling yet somehow managing to maintain their balance. The flash of lightning across the sky illuminated the bedraggled form.
“Shit!” Kingsley murmured, as he turned and grabbed his cloak from the chair.
Severus struggled, mentally chanting put one foot in front of the other. The crack of thunder hurt his head; the flash of lightning hurt his eyes. If he could just reach the house, he could summon help from there. Maybe Kingsley would be there, waiting, watching...
The sky was pitch-black once more. Kingsley opened the door and cursed, he had to find him, get him warm, and heal him. He was far too important, to him, to the war effort, to Potter’s survival.
With a deep breath, Kingsley pictured the last place he’d seen Severus and Apparated.
Severus stumbled once more as another clap of thunder rang out across the sky. This time he lost his balance and fell forward into a muddy puddle. He gasped as the air was forced out of his chest.
Allowing his eyes to close; he willed death to take him quickly.
Kingsley scanned the immediate vicinity for any sign of Severus.
Providence provided him with a blessed bolt of lightning – and he found Severus, just as he stumbled forward and collapsed in a heap on the sodden ground.
Kingsley rushed to his fallen comrade, lover, whatever, he couldn’t allow Severus to remain outside much longer.
Severus felt his chest burn as he took another breath, pain shot throughout his body. He whimpered.
“Severus?”
He was sure someone, somewhere was talking to him, but he was struggling to maintain consciousness let alone decipher speech. As he took another shuddering breath he felt strong, firm arms lift him from the ground. Delirious, he mumbled disjointed words as he felt the warmth of another’s presence penetrate his drenched clothing.
Kingsley spent the next four days caring for Severus. Changing his sweat soaked sheets each morning, bathing the frail form of his comrade, wiping a chilled cloth over his forehead to try and ease his fever.
He had had to summon Poppy to heal Severus’ broken bones, and she had provided him with a multitude of potions to aid his recovery. Kingsley conscientiously ensured that Severus took his potions at four hour intervals.
By the fifth day Severus awoke from his fever induced coma.
“Kingsley?” He whispered wondering if the man was nearby.
“You’ve woken then,” Kingsley stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Obviously. How long...?”
“You were with Voldemort for three days; you’ve slept for almost five.”
“Albus?”
“Is aware that you need to recover before briefing him on what has happened. Rest, you need it.” Kingsley stooped to place a kiss on Severus cheek before turning to leave.
Severus took Kingsley’s advice and sank back into the warmth of the bed, slowly stroking his cheek where his comrade had kissed him.
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