snarrymod (snarrymod) wrote in snarry_games, @ 2006-05-01 12:06:00 |
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Original poster: snarrymod
Title: Exception to the Rule
Author: Lux escapisms (quietlygorgeous@hotmail.com)
Warnings/Rating: Warnings/Kinks Pop up
Summary: Ten years...
Prompt: Team Angst, Seven-Year Itch
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's thanks: Eternal thanks to lunarennui for betaing and for actually understanding what I was saying and Tine for all her encouragement.
They had started dating ten years ago.
Except Harry wouldn't really call it "dating".
"Dating" was such a mundane word and nothing was less ordinary than Severus Snape. Perhaps a better way of putting it would be "fucking each other's brains out".
Except they hadn't done that, either. Not initially, anyway.
It had started. Yes, that was a much better way of saying it.
They had just started as if one day they woke up and suddenly they were alive and breathing and whole. There had been no awkward dinner and dancing, or talking. Talking had never been their strong suit, anyway. Talking always led to fighting and snarling and shouting so loud that the walls would shake until one of them threw something. Or said something so awful that the other stormed out.
Once, Harry made Severus cry.
It was a moment of absolutely uncontrollable rage, and if Harry had blinked, he would've missed the one tiny little tear that had trickled its way down Severus' cheek and quivered at the base of his chin as he struggled to come up with something to say, mouth opening and closing uselessly. Seeing Severus speechless was perhaps the most painful thing Harry had ever experienced after The War.
Immediately, he had apologized and Severus had just nodded. They didn't speak for three days, just orbited around each other like planets except they had no center point; they had no sun to pull them in. Haggard and drained, they'd just waited the other one out and in the end they'd crashed together and melted. And everything had been fine until the next fight, but Harry was always more careful with what he said, no matter how angry he was.
The first time they had sex was something Harry wished he could forget just because he was so embarrassed by how it had gone. He had never had anal sex before. Ever. He'd fooled around with a few other guys, but nothing so invasive as another guy's cock in his ass. They'd fought over who would top and Severus won because he knew what he was doing and damned if he was going to let Harry fumble his way around a place as delicate as his anus. So Harry had acquiesced and gotten on hands and knees and Severus had sighed so loudly that Harry could hear his eyes roll.
"What?" he demanded, cheeks red because his ass was in the air and how could it get more humiliating than this?
Severus sighed again, a little less annoyed, and very gently pushed Harry onto his side and onto his back. "This isn't so I can hurt you," he said, looking Harry directly in the eye and running a gentle hand down his cheek. "If you're embarrassed, we'll stop. Sex shouldn't be like that."
And he said it so honestly that Harry had felt a bit like a heel and blushed for a whole new set of reasons.
"I don't like being vulnerable," he admitted, staring down somewhere near the region of his cock so Severus wouldn't see just how nervous he was. It always frustrated Harry that a single look from Severus could make him a bumbling idiot. It was even worse when he was sprawled out on a bed with nothing on and a cock that was so hard that it was on the verge of hurting.
Severus had leaned down and kissed him slowly before promising that he would keep Harry safe and make sure that he wasn't hurt. "I won't use it against you," he promised and it was exactly what Harry had needed to hear. At that time, shadows still made him jump and pull out his wand in case it was a rogue Death Eater come to finish him off. It didn't matter that every single one was accounted for and six feet under foot. All except Severus, who held him like he was more important than anything else in the world.
The first push had been incredible. His hands around his knees tightened to a point where he was sure his nails were puncturing his flesh and what he was feeling running down his legs was blood and not sweat. He'd tilted his head back because it was the only thing he could get to move and he stared up at the ceiling, mouth hanging open in huge, desperate gasps for breath.
"Oh God," he had whispered before Severus was in his line of sight again and then kissing his neck, whispering things against his skin that at that time had made so much sense even though they were little more than babbling.
"I've got you," Severus said, pushing in a little bit more, hips moving at a slow, easy pace and Harry had moaned and almost sobbed when Severus said he was all the way in because Harry couldn't actually feel him. It was just a low burn throughout his entire lower back and middle and he couldn't distinguish his own body from Severus'.
The air he drew in as he gasped was wet and echoed in his chest as he tried to breathe around the huge realization that Severus was inside his body. He had always understood what intercourse entailed (penis into vagina/anus), but it hadn't occurred to him until that very moment how incredibly intimate and powerful and terrifying it was to have another person sharing his skin.
"You're inside me," Harry had finally managed to say, all the awe very clear in his voice and he had expected Severus to laugh at him, but the look of intense concentration and affection never left his face for even a moment.
Instead, Severus had smiled in that way that wasn't quite a smile and more like a jagged edge of upturned facial tissue. "I'm inside you," he affirmed with a slight nod and he kissed Harry like he was golden and Harry had laughed and laughed until he nearly cried.
"I didn't expect it to be like this," he hiccupped and realized that his legs were shaking from the strain of keeping them in such an odd position and his fingers were slipping in the pools of sweat that had gathered.
Severus pushed the hair away from his face carefully and helped him lower his legs. "Neither did I," he confided, and rearranged Harry's legs so he was more comfortable.
"You can move now," Harry whispered because anything louder seemed impossible. "You can," he swallowed thickly, "you can fuck me."
And Severus did. Slowly at first, so slowly that Harry thought he would crawl out of his skin in agony. The slow glide was maddening and he could feel every slide as if the cock in him was his own. "Oh God," he said again and tightened his legs around Severus' waist. "Faster."
He'd yelped as Severus did just that and he clung to Severus' shoulders, face buried in his neck as he made loud mewling noises that were muffled against sweaty skin. "I want to hear you," Severus ordered and a shiver went up Harry's spine. To prove his point, he began to thrust faster and harder until Harry threw his head back and didn't quite scream as his nails dug into Severus' back and left eight great welts parallel to his spine.
After that, he didn't remember much, only moments. Severus' hand on his cock and comingcomingcoming. The look on Severus' face like Harry had just given him the best present ever. Severus grasping his hips, the last veneer of calm melting away as he fucked Harry. The sound Severus made when he came and the feeling of warmth spreading through Harry's anus that almost tickled. Whimpering when Severus slowly pulled out. Slow kissing purely just to kiss. Warm arms holding him close and sleep.
That was when Harry knew he loved Severus Snape.
Severus hated Harry's job. Severus seemed to hate anything that took Harry outside of their house. Harry always sort of suspected it was Severus' way of saying that he cared and really liked having Harry pestering him all day. He never said it, of course, but when Harry had been offered the job as Seeker for England, well, Severus had nearly blown the house up when one too many drops of asphodel had fallen into the cauldron. The resulting explosion had left the cellar covered in blackness and the smell of dragon dung had haunted the whole house for three weeks. That was the extent of the fight and Harry took the job anyway.
The only place in the house with moving photos was their bedroom. While they were very nice photos, every single one of them posed together would eventually feature them rutting against a wall or a tree or in a very conveniently placed chair. Even the ones that were single portraits would find a coinciding Harry or Severus.
For instance, the rather dashing picture of Severus receiving his long-awaited Order of Merlin liked the photo of Harry at the beach in his swim trunks best, but wouldn't actually leave his frame. He proclaimed once that the sand got into places where no sand had any right to be and insisted Harry join him, sans swim trunks.
The picture Mrs. Weasley took of Harry in his seventh Weasley jumper much preferred the one of Severus leaning over his cauldron with his hair in his face. Harry had actually been responsible for nabbing that moment of zen and rather enjoyed watching when he bent Severus over the cauldron and fucked him brainless.
Even the two photos of them when they were both fourteen (and in their Hogwarts uniforms, respectively) would cast longing glances at each other from their separate frames. They had only been caught once and Severus had nearly torn up both offending photos until he saw who was giving whom the rather enthusiastic fellatio and gruffly said, "Carry on," before shutting the pantry door again. Harry never asked why there was a photo of a fully functional dungeon in their pantry nor did he complain when Severus tried to mimic it in their own bedroom. Harry was, after all, very good at fellatio.
When Minerva offered Severus the position of Potions instructor five years after Hogwarts had been reopened, Harry had encouraged him to take it. It may not have been the Defense post, but Harry knew that Severus missed the school. Severus had declined, though, as politely as he was able, and didn't speak of it for a full month, even though Harry constantly muttered about how he couldn't believe Severus had said no.
Then one day he'd pushed Harry against a wall, kissed him with all the fire and passion of a man arriving home from six months at sea and said, "That's why." Harry had thought it a damn fine reason and never asked again. Except for when he wanted to be pushed against the wall or a table or even the staircase on one rather memorable occasion that had resulted in some rather interesting bruises and scrapes.
The one topic they talked about least (and Harry thought about most) was children. Harry was torn between wanting a thousand children to love and spoil and just two or three which would've been far more manageable. Sometimes he thought that children would just ruin the good thing they had going. That didn't stop him from glancing at the list of orphans in the newspaper every week.
He'd even caught Severus looking a time or two but Severus was convinced that he would be a detriment to any child's well-being and if Harry was so insistent, why not get a puppy instead? At least that way if Severus were to seriously emotionally stunt the puppy, it could be put down or traded in. Harry hadn't thought it funny at all. Severus had been surprised that Harry thought he was joking.
His opinion didn't change when Hermione gave birth to Ignatius "Iggy" Weasley and named Severus and Harry as his Godfathers.
"Not even now?" Harry had asked, holding Iggy tightly and listening as he cooed.
Severus had looked up from his book and replied, "What for? This way when he's annoying, we can just give him back."
Severus' logic really amazed Harry sometimes.
When Harry was offered the job as Seeker for England, they'd only been together for three years. It took Harry two to see that the reason Severus hated the job so much was because after almost every match Harry had a concussion or something broken. Once he finally saw that Severus' ranting and raving was because he was concerned (even scared), Harry had pulled him into a kiss and said, "Okay."
At the end of the season, he resigned and became a commentator for Quidditch Wireless. That had appeased Severus until a rogue bludger had flown into the box and dislocated Harry's shoulder during a match. The Quidditch Association had encased the box in a protective material that still baffled Severus to no end ("Are they not wizards!" he'd shouted) and given Harry a female co-anchor. Apparently the show was a huge success, but Severus never admitted that he listened to every single broadcast on the old wireless in his lab.
Harry still clearly remembered the day when the lawyer had arrived at their door in Spinner's End and very sorrowfully informed him that Remus J. Lupin had passed away. Before Harry and Severus had gotten together Remus had decided that he was tired of trying to live like a normal wizard and written to Harry to tell him that he was moving to Bulgaria. There was a clan of werewolves without an Alpha (no doubt Greyback's doing) and they had formally petitioned Remus for his help. He'd left Harry as his beneficiary and taken only his wand.
The lawyer said it was natural causes that had killed Remus. "Werewolves don't live very long," the lawyer reminded him and Harry had almost hit him. At that time, they'd been together seven years and Harry never cried so hard, not even for Sirius.
What he remembered most, though, was how Severus had stood back and let Harry destroy everything in their home. He hadn't even twitched when Harry broke the vials his mother had given him on his eleventh birthday.
And when Harry had finally fallen to his knees surrounded by glass, pillow fluff, and shattered wood, Severus had knelt beside him and let him cry. Harry had known from the beginning that Severus was not a physically affectionate man and was surprised when he'd been pulled against Severus' chest and been held in a cocoon of warmth and black cloth.
Three years had passed since then and still Harry's chest ached when he thought of Remus, but every day he was grateful that he and Severus were still alive. Especially Severus.
Not long after, Severus had gotten ill. Harry had come home early (the game had been called off on account of the typhoon that was threatening the coast) and found Severus collapsed on the sofa in the living room, looking very pale. At first he thought Severus had just worked himself into a stupor again, but Harry was unable to make him wake. Terrified, he'd firecalled St. Mungo's and they'd taken him away. Harry bullied his way into coming along. He was the Savior, after all.
It took them two days to figure out he'd ingested an experimental potion that had reacted poorly. Harry could scarcely believe that Severus would do something that stupid, especially since he'd had been scheduled to be out of the country for a week. Severus was restricted to bed for two months and for once he actually listened.
It took Harry those two months to realize why Severus still hated Harry's job... Penelope. Except on the air she preferred to be called Penny. She didn't want anyone she knew realizing that the esteemed Penelope Clearwater was more interested in commentating Quidditch matches than all manner of other things her family (and Percy) had hoped she would do.
On the air, and off, he and Penny would flirt with each other. Nothing serious, just little things. At least, Harry had thought it was. Penny would laugh at his jokes and lightly brush his shoulder with her fingers. He would tell her how nice she looked in that blue skirt with the little pink flowers and make sure she always Flooed home safely. Jokingly he'd called her "luv" a few times and maybe he should've paid closer attention when her cheeks flushed. If she had looked at him, or said anything, that was even remotely suggestive, he was sure he would remember. But he couldn't.
Every time Harry would mention her, even in passing, Severus would scowl horribly and mutter about her lineage or how infuriating she'd been when he had taught her. At the time, Harry had thought it was amusing and laughed it off, even poked fun at Severus for being so crotchety.
Like in everything else, Harry should've listened to Severus.
He'd been warned that Penelope was not the sort of woman that Harry wanted to get involved with, even as a colleague. Except, like always, he hadn't listened.
The funny thing was, he didn't even remember how it is that they ended up in that back room of the tavern, but he does remember the look of drunken bliss of Penny's face. She'd hitched up her skirt and his trousers were undone and it had happened so quickly. Three months later she had quit, said she had an offer for her own show in France and she had family there. Harry had wished her luck and thought nothing of it.
Six months later he'd gotten an owl from Penelope. He hadn't even opened it when an overwhelming sense of dread washed over him and his fingers started to shake as he slit open the envelope. There were only a few very meticulous lines (Penny had always had lovely handwriting), but Harry understood the gist of it. There was a baby, a little girl, and she didn't need Harry's help, but Penny thought that he would like to know.
And that she was sorry.
Harry had just stared at it for a very long time, not really sure if it was real or not and wishing desperately that it wasn't. He'd tucked the letter into his pocket and smiled at Severus when he asked what the letter was about. Harry had shrugged it off, told him it was nothing and kissed him.
Maybe he'd left it in his pocket on purpose, but it had been Severus' week to do the laundry and as he emptied Harry's pockets, he'd found the letter and he'd read it. Harry tried to act affronted at his breach of privacy, but really he was relieved that he wouldn't have to tell Severus himself.
Severus had come into the living room, placed the letter by his elbow and said, "You should send her a few galleons anyway." Harry had just nodded and every month he sent Penelope two hundred galleons and he and Severus never spoke of it. Ever. It didn't even come up when they fought, but there was always the unspoken knowledge that Harry had done something absolutely unforgivable.
But they lived their lives. Severus continued with his potions and he still listened to Harry's show every week and Harry still went to work and they still fought. For another year and a half it continued just like that and eventually the tension started to ease and Harry had hoped that maybe their relationship would go back to normal. Or whatever was normal for them.
Then several months ago, he'd gotten another letter. Penelope was sick and her parents were too old to take care of Freya (Harry had been a little startled when he realized he'd never asked the child's name) and would it be all right if she named him as Freya's guardian in her will? Just in case, she'd assured him. She was sure that she really wasn't as ill as the doctor's said. And this way, she would know Freya was taken care of and no one would have to know that she was really Harry's.
He had agreed and hadn't told Severus because if Penny was right, it wouldn't be an issue and Severus need never know that once upon a time Harry had promised he would bring the girl permanently into their lives. This time, he hid the letter much more carefully (intentionally) and bought Severus a box of the chocolate that he never admitted to liking and left it on the counter.
Except Penelope was wrong and there he was, standing in the middle of their living room like the big wanker that he was. He looked down at Freya and tried to smile encouragingly, but was sure that he failed.
The slam of the front door startled them both and Harry looked up hopefully. "Severus?" he called again.
His shadow arrived before Severus did. "I came to collect my things," he said gruffly, face as stern as ever, eyes not even flickering toward the girl. Harry hated how even after all this time, one look from Severus had him feeling like he was back at school. "I'm staying with Hermione."
"But this is your house," Harry reminded him. If anyone should be moving out, it should be Harry.
Severus stood straighter, arms folded across his chest. "What is your point?"
Frantically, Harry tried to think of all the things that he'd just been going over in his head. All their years together and, "I need you." It was that simple, really. Harry didn't know how he would breathe without Severus, let alone live. "Please don't go."
"If you think I'm going to be made a fool of-"
"No!" Harry cried and stepped forward, reached out a hand, but stopped when Severus backed away. "I'm sorry," he said, voice choked and thick with emotion.
Severus growled and the child squeaked. "You should have told me."
Harry swallowed and nodded. "I know." Then he frowned. "Wait, how did you--?"
Taking an envelope from the pocket of his robes, he handed it to Harry. "It arrived just a little while ago and proclaimed to be urgent. I opened it."
It was a copy of the papers that Harry had just signed a few hours earlier. His own messy signature was at the bottom. I, Harry James Potter, take full responsibility and guardianship of--
"Oh," he said stupidly and folded the papers again.
"Yes," Severus hissed and stalked past him to the bedroom and slammed the door while Harry slid down the wall. He'd made such a fool out of them both. Ten years and now he was sure it was over.
The little girl was hugging her teddy bear tightly, looking around their living room like it was the most frightening thing she had ever seen. "Go home now," she whispered and sobbed.
Feeling for her, Harry crawled to her side and enveloped her in his arms. "I know," he said, trying to swallow back his own tears as she shook. He pulled her to him even tighter when Severus reappeared again.
He came over to them and stared down at their upturned faces. "What's your name?" he asked and his voice was not quite so harsh now.
The girl sniffled wetly, snot dripping from her nose. "Freya," she hiccupped.
"Freya," Severus said and offered a hand to her which she took as she sniffled again. Harry watched as Severus led her to a door that hadn't been there the whole ten years that Harry had lived there. "This is your room," he explained.
Harry fell back on his ass, completely speechless. Did this mean Severus wasn't leaving? Surely he wouldn't have made the girl her own room if that were the case. Or did he mean for Harry to leave and he would raise Freya himself? Dumbfounded, he finally managed to stagger to his feet. "Severus?" he asked.
The look he was given was not one of forgiveness. "You're sleeping on the couch," Severus growled and Harry could've laughed he was so relieved.
Somehow they made sense. For all their fighting and bitching at each other, all the nasty names, and
constant complaining, they made sense. And sometimes the nasty names were more endearments and sometimes the fighting was in worry more than anger and the complaining was an excuse to fight about the things that made them worry and call each other the names that weren't quite affectionate.
End.
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