pekeleke

Title: The (Not So) Shoddy Deal.
Author: pekeleke
Pairings/threesome: Severus Snape/Harry Potter.
Rating: G
Word count: 3852
Challenge: Written for the Snarry Summer Fest 14 at snape_potter.
Theme chosen: Holiday: Happy Birthday, Harry!
Warning(s): None
Disclaimer: Don't own these characters. No money is being made out of this work.
Summary: Harry's idea of a shoddy deal doesn't match Severus', but he has to agree with the Slytherin's point of view once the man explains in detail exactly what he's missing.
A/N: This work is Unbetaed.

The (Not So) Shoddy Deal.
read on rue16

The White Hart was virtually empty. Apart from the few regulars scattered around the bar there was only a starry-eyed couple seating in the corner booth, holding hands with a blissful air of obliviousness to their surroundings that made Harry's heart clench as he looked at them wistfully.

His smile dimmed under the weight of his own hopeless longing to find the courage of expressing his own emotions that openly to the stern man who inspired them, but the very idea of risking the beautiful friendship he'd managed to build with Severus in that manner scared him right out of his mind.

“I'm over here, Harry!”

Severus' shiver-inducing voice reached him from the left and he turned blindly around, allowing that beloved sound to guide him. His poor, battered heart skipped a beat or two the moment his gaze settled over the dark haired owner of his every thought and dream. His mind whirled dizzily with a very familiar mix of hopeless longing and gut-wrenching desire even as his eyes widened slightly, taking in Severus' unusually elegant appearance. He looked... wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. He looked exactly like a man who was about to attend his first proper date in more than two decades should look like and the awful thought that Severus may have groomed himself so carefully with the intention of hooking up with someone after he left for the evening made Harry physically sick.

Feeling utterly ashamed of the unforgivable jealousy that colored his thoughts he attempted to cover the awkwardness of his reaction by removing his light summer coat with a small groan of appreciation for the cooling charms that kept the place so pleasantly cool even in the middle of the worst heat wave to have descended upon the country in the last ten years.

He dropped awkwardly into his chair, attempting to ignore both the unknown couple in the corner and the niggling thought that he wanted to hold Severus' hand in the exact same manner that lucky stranger kept on holding his girl's hand. He wanted to mumble as many raw-toned promises against his own version of a pale, long neck while they cuddled with equally enthusiastic abandon in their own shadowy corner of the pub.

“Are you alright, Harry? You seem to be a million miles away.”

That slightly puzzled question pulled him away from his melancholic musings and he shook his head like a young pup shakes off water, smiling apologetically into concerned black eyes and whispering his excuse with a softly-toned wistfulness that made his companion stiffen in his seat with obvious annoyance:
“I'm sorry, Severus. I was just... daydreaming.”

“Isn't it a bit too early for you to have grown bored of me already? You've barely warmed your seat."

"Hey... what's wrong?" Harry blinked, focusing startled green eyes on Severus' darkening visage.

"I told you not to bother coming here if you had something better to do on your birthday precisely to avoid this sort of situation. You are the man of the hour, after all. The bloke whose birthday is so important the Ministry had to make a national holiday out of it."

"Severus..."

"I realize I must come pretty low on the long list of folks blessed with the privilege of seeing you on this day, of all days, and I'm grateful for the honor. I truly am, but... I've got no desire to have dinner with someone who is so obviously longing for more titillating company.”

Harry jerked slightly backwards, unpleasantly shocked by that thoroughly unwelcome statement. His right hand curled anxiously around his cold pitcher and he stared at Severus' wounded expression with wide-eyed panic.
“I'm not bored! You know I wanted a low key birthday celebration this year. I've already seen my friends and we had a lovely tea-time party with the usual mayhem that surrounds that sort of thing at the Burrow. The kids always end up taking over, just as you think everything is going to go smoothly for once. I had fun running behind them while they were high on sugar, but now I'm ready to enjoy my thoroughly deserved restful evening. I swear wasn't disparaging either the place or your company, Severus. I was just enjoying the peaceful atmosphere, that's all. It's very... different... from the wild zoo I'm used to seeing on Friday nights around here. ”

Severus exhaled a rather shaky breath, studying him thoughtfully for an unnervingly long moment before raking the entire room with a single, sweeping, glance:
“I suppose it is. I haven't come down here since the war and I used to avoid the Friday crowd even then. The joys of pay-day aren't pretty when there's strong alcohol involved and I've always preferred the quiet environment of an upmarket restaurant to the dubious... charms... of a noisy pub, anyway.”

Harry heard the soul-deep pain coloring that quietly voiced statement. Half a dozen memories of his fifth year Occlumency lessons flashed through his head in the blink of an eye, and his fingertips literally ached with the need to touch the Slytherin's hand. He wanted to offer comfort. Understanding. Compassion. He wanted to curl his hand around that thin forearm in a gesture of reassurance, but he didn't dare to push his luck that far. Their friendship hadn't come easily. He had to drag every single concession out of Severus with patient insistence and wasn't willing to ruin it all now by offering the wary man a single glimpse of the all-consuming passion that fills his heart to bursting every single time they're in one another's company.

“Why did you suggest coming here when you don't even like drinking, then? We could have gone somewhere else, Severus. You know I wouldn't have said no to dinner, no matter the location.”

Severus stilled and looked at him soberly.
“I know you wouldn't have, but we're always going to places I like, Harry. I wanted to show you that I could... fit... into this world, too. I'm aware that you come here with your friends on a regular basis and I assumed that you'd enjoy this sort of outing more than our usual weekly dinners. I wasn't expecting you to realize that I'm not exactly comfortable around excessive amounts of freely-consumed alcohol within five minutes of arriving.”

Harry's breath caught as his green eyes followed the path of the faint blush that was claiming every inch of Severus' chiseled cheekbones. His hands curled even more tightly around his glass and his gut began to churn with an anxious sort of energy. He'd been worrying of late about the fact that Severus was becoming increasingly wary of their growing closeness, clearly spooked by how accurately Harry could read his mannerisms or managed to make sense of most of his instinctive reactions to pretty much everything.

He could tell that his dark haired Slytherin was feeling slightly threatened by how much they knew about one another, but it was simply impossible to deny that they'd been through an awful lot together. They'd fought in the same war. They'd been inside each other's minds. They shared a thousand terrible memories that no one would ever be able to wipe away, no matter how hard they tried it, and now that his love had mentioned the war for the first time, Harry knew in his very bones that he couldn't afford to let this chance to talk about it go to waste.

“There's a lot of history between us, Severus. I don't think there's any point in trying to deny that. I know a lot of things about you, just like you know plenty of things about me. I'd be a pretty dreadful friend indeed if I couldn't tell how uncomfortable you look right now. I can tell you don't want to be here at all. That's how close we've grown to one another, and I don't regret it one bit.”

Utterly wary black eyes closed then, as if warding off some sort of terrible pain. There was a single second of complete and utter silence while Severus simply sat there and took a couple of agitated deep breaths.

“Tell me what's bothering you so much and I'll try to help as much as I can.” Harry promised with a voice that couldn't hide the sudden worry that was beginning to rise across the surface of his mind like a dark shadow.

Ebony-colored eyelashes fluttered apart slowly, so very slowly, and the fierce intensity powering the look they unveiled had the ability to take Harry's breath away. He sat there, frozen to the spot like a frightened hare hopelessly mesmerized by a sudden blare of bright light, while his entire world became reduced to this table and this man. To these dark, unfathomable eyes that were looking at him so intently, boring deep under his skin, under his every shield, attempting to disarm him and unveil him even further than they had already managed. Attempting to leave him even more exposed. More terrified. Bare to the bone.

“I'm sorry. I'm feeling rather nervous and I'm afraid that I'm being unusually... difficult... tonight, Harry. Your comment startled me, that's all. I hadn't realized how transparent I've become to you and that's not a feeling I'm particularly comfortable with.”

“It's okay.” Harry squeaked, embarrassingly unsure of what to say in response, and a very uncomfortable silence fell between them. They focused on their drinks rather desperately, gulping down nervous mouthfuls of cold ale, as their minds tried to adjust to the disorienting reality of having to find something soothing, something... non-incendiary... to say to one another.

The loud screech of a chair being dragged across the wooden floor brought their attention towards the couple occupying the booth. Harry's eyes widened as he watched the young man push the table out of his way, in order to clear a small spot of floor in front of his companion. There was something in the stranger's bashful attitude that betrayed his intentions long before he knelt at his lady's feet, fumbling in his coat pocket for a small, velvety box. Harry's breath caught and he whispered reverently:
“OMG! He is going to propose.”

The moment hung as everyone seemed to freeze, waiting to see what the future had in store for these two strangers. She smiled lovingly, trembling hands wiping the silent river of tears gently running down her cheeks and seemed unable to speak a single word as her gaze fell on the simple ring that rested within the box. A long, breathless second spun gently into another before she finally managed to jerk her head forwards, right hand curling around the neck of her young suitor in order to bring his face closer. They kissed with their next breath and Harry sagged against the back seat of his chair, feeling suddenly shattered with sorrow.

His eyes flew towards his dark-haired companion, watching those stern and familiar features pale even further, and he realized two very different things in that one instant. He wanted exactly what that sandy-haired stranger now possessed. He wanted to find enough courage to kneel one day in front of this reclusive creature and offer him a similar piece of jewelry in exchange for the greatest gift of them all. He wanted to find himself on the receiving end of fiercely whispered commitment, of an overwhelmingly loving kiss, of a fervently promised forever. But Severus wasn't ready for that sort of irreversible step. Not by a long shot.

The Slytherin may have garnered from somewhere the strength to pursue a friendship with him, but he looked simply terrified by the idea of... more. Severus had actually meant every word he said about his need to approach friendship slowly. He was staring at the now embracing couple with the kind of shaken, ashen-faced fascination that made him look like a man who'd just woke up to realize that he'd slept-walked straight towards the edge of a cliff. He seemed fragile like glass. Spooked. Afraid. He looked ready to faint right there and then and the very idea that this man, who'd faced Voldemort himself without a qualm, would shatter so completely when confronted with the picture of simple, ordinary love, had the power to drop Harry's unpleasantly churning stomach all the way down to his toes.

“Are you alright, Severus? You look positively sick.” Harry couldn't resist the impulse to curl his hand around a reedy forearm and ended up sighing with relieved gratefulness when those dark eyes turned once more towards him.

“I... yes. Of course I'm alright, Harry. I just realized that I... I don't know what I was thinking, coming here with the intention of playing the kind of role that belongs to gorgeous young blokes with sandy hair and a smile full of dimples. You will never settle for—Forgive me, please, I beg of you. I must leave. Right now, in fact. And I think we shouldn't...”

Harry was out of his chair before Severus had the chance to end that uncharacteristically jumbled sentence. His hand curled even more firmly around the potioneer's forearm and he promised himself he wouldn't let go of it until he knew exactly what the hell was going on. He couldn't let Severus walk away like this. Not when it looked like the man he loved beyond reason was trying to tell him in a strangely roundabout way that he loved him back.

“Not all gorgeous blokes have sandy hair and a smile full of dimples, Severus. I prefer my men slender, dark haired and with a voice to die for.”

Something very akin to panic flashed across the Slytherin's eyes and he all but growled “Do not mock me!” with the sort of fierce desperation that makes a corralled predator the most dangerous kind of adversary.

Harry's heart pounded in his chest like a wild drum and every single bit of the undeniable affection that he felt towards this difficult man shone like a beacon in his widening green gaze as he dared to lift his trembling right hand and placed it over Severus' slowly reddening cheek.
“Why would I mock you, my love? Why would I hurt you when you're so clearly hurting yourself already? Why would I try to drive you away when all I want is for you to stay beside me forever?”

The fight went out of Severus with a small hiss of surrender and he sagged against the backrest of his chair and closed his eyes tightly. The pointed tug of a reedy forearm, trying to shake off his hold, was all it took for Harry to realize that the potioneer desired to be set free, but he held on to the contact like a drowning man holds onto the one piece of drifting wood that could be his salvation.

“Promise me you won't Apparate away if I let go.” He pleaded quietly and was shocked by the sheer intensity of emotion that colored Severus' beautiful voice when he all but growled.

“I've never gotten cold feet before in all my life, Potter. I have no intention of suffering through this humiliating ailment twice in the same evening.”

“I don't understand.”

Wary black eyes opened at that second, looking fierce and proud and terribly insecure all at once.
“Yes, you do. You understand me better than anyone on Earth. You understand me even when I don't understand myself, Harry, and you—You called me my love, just now.”

Harry felt himself pale and jerked his hand away. He shivered despite the fact that they were in the middle of the hottest summer they had in years and gazed right into Severus' beloved eyes with an expression that betrayed anxious terror.
“I promise you I can do friendship, Severus. Just because I love you doesn't mean I can't settle for the kind of platonic relationship you want. Please don't walk away from me over this. I'm begging you.”

Severus looked slightly away for a second or two. He swallowed twice in quick succession, clearly uncomfortable, before focusing on him once again. There was something incredibly proud, something so ferociously determined in his expression that it made Harry realize that he'd finally caught a glimpse of the true spy for the light. This was a man who wasn't at all confident of whatever he'd decided to do, but had committed himself to do it nevertheless. This was Severus Snape, the bravest man he'd ever met, visibly gathering that seemingly endless courage of his to do something that clearly went against every single Slytherin instinct he possessed.
“I don't want a platonic relationship, Harry. I want... more. I want exactly the same thing that lucky bloke is going to get out of his lady: a life lived in loving commitment. A family of two. A happily ever after. I want you, just you, for as long as I can keep you, but I don't want you like this. I don't want to be your friend. I want to be your lover.”

“Yes.”

“I realize that I'm not precisely charming, but I'm willing to—I'm sorry. What did you just say?”

“I said yes, Severus. Yes to loving commitment and yes to a family of two. Yes to having you as my lover, as long as you agree to let become yours.”

Severus blinked, clearly stunned.
“Yes. You've said yes. I can't believe you've said—This has to be a dream. I'm going to wake up any second now to find out that you are not here.”

“No, you won't. I'm not going anywhere and neither are you. I've said yes and you've said... You were saying that you love me, weren't you?”

Severus blushed to the tips of his ears, but his gaze never faltered.
“Yes. I was trying to tell you that I love you, Harry. I freely admit that it wasn't my best speech, but...”

“It was glorious. The best birthday gift anyone has ever given me, Severus. I don't care if the words weren't perfect. They were yours. They were willing and they've offered me my most precious dream in a silver platter. I have no intention of complaining.”

Severus laughed then, shaking his still faintly pinkish face from side to side and looking him in the eye with the kind of playful adoration that Harry had never seen lurk in his dark gaze before.
“Never, ever, imply you're happy enough with a shoddy deal, Potter. This love declaration of mine was absolutely ghastly and we both know it. You, Gryffindors, keep throwing away some of the best fun you'll ever have because you are all so maddeningly chivalrous. The Slytherin thing to do here would be to demand I repeat my entire speech properly, throwing some sort of poetic description of your manly charms into the mix before ending it with a spot of passionate snogging.”

Harry blinked, so mesmerized by the incredible warmth that had transformed Severus' usually dour face into the most gorgeous picture of relaxed contentment he'd ever seen that it took his befuddled mind a second or two to register the words “passionate snogging”. Once he did, he tried to walk around the table so fast that he bumped into it, causing the kind of ruckus that would have made him cringe under normal circumstances.

“Sorry.” He muttered, smiling bashfully at no one in particular and ended up growling softly under his breath when Severus laughed delightedly, mocking him ever so gently with an irritatingly smug knowing look.

“There is no need to rush, Mr. Potter. Forever doesn't vanish in an instant. Forever is a gift that keeps on coming. It'll be here tonight, tomorrow and every single day after those, too. You'll have so much passionate snogging coming your way in the future that you'll grow tired of it. I promise.”

“Don't promise me the impossible, my love. I'll hate to make you a liar with my greed.”

Severus simply smirked and stood up slowly, leaning close enough to whisper teasingly in his ear:
“Be careful of what you wish for, Harry. Some say greed can drive men mad, make them insatiable. Turn them into feral beasts who do nothing but want. And want. And want some more...”

Harry shivered from the top of his head to the tip of his toes even as he pushed his face slightly backwards, exposing the skin of his neck to the heat of Severus' mouth and practically begging him to kiss it.
“It's funny how you've just described greed with the same words I'd use to explain what love is.” He managed to mumble just as the Slytherin's mouth settled upon him for the very first time. The delicate brush of paper-thin lips against the pulse point in his neck rendered him literally breathless and he struggled to swallow the aroused groan that rose up the back of his throat even as his fingertips grabbed the front of Severus' formal robes, bunching the fabric tightly with the kind of hold that he wasn't entirely certain he could manage to relinquish any time soon.

“Home. Take me home, Severus. We need to head home right now.”

He felt the potioneer's smile bloom directly against his pounding pulse. Pale thin lips pressed a single, fervent, open-mouthed kiss upon the skin of his neck, all but branding him with it a second before the dark haired owner of his heart whispered darkly:
“I'm already home, my Harry. But I'll be delighted to bring you along for the ride, since you're asking for it so prettily, birthday boy. Just remember that whoever enters my lair won't be allowed to abandon it. Ever. I've never been the kind of man who let's go of what is his.”

Harry melted on the spot and sagged against Severus' chest even as the uncomfortable squeeze of Side-along Apparition took over his senses. Soothing moon-tinted shadows met them on the other side and he smiled, feeling safe and welcome in the middle of what looked like a book conquered bedroom.
“I suppose it's lucky that your lair appeals to me, then. Now come here and get on with the passionate snogging you promised me or I'll be forced to demand the poetic ode to my charms, instead.”

Severus mock shuddered, before turning him properly around to look right into his eyes.
“Anything you want, my love. I'll strive to give you everything you ask of me, Harry, bad poetry included. Luckily for both of us it looks like passionate snogging is all you desire right now, so passionate snogging you shall have.”

"Hmmm... now that I think about it, passionate snogging by itself sounds like a pretty shoddy deal to me, you know? We're standing in the middle of your bedroom, after all. I'm pretty sure you could make me a better offer if you put your mind to it."

Severus laughed with unrestrained delight, lowering his dark head to kiss him with a playful growl that sounded suspiciously like:
"Shoddy deal my arse. You are just a greedy brat, Potter."

The End.