A Shared Affliction.

[pekeleke]

Title: A Shared Affliction.
Author: pekeleke
Pairing(s): Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Rating: G
Length: 729
Warnings: Pre-slash. Getting together.
Disclaimer: Don't own these characters. I make no profit from writing fanfiction.
Summary:  "You should go for it, Pot-er- Harry," Severus tries purring. It sounds ridiculously pretentious to his own ears, but Potter's breath clearly hitches.
A/N: Written in celebration of Severus Snape’s birthday. Have a lovely day, professor. <3

Severus has been listening to Potter’s usual deluge of nonsensical drivel for a good forty minutes, when he decides enough is enough. Today is the day he’ll draw his line in the sand and force his persistent colleague to explain why he’s been pestering him non-stop for the best part of eight months. Severus has a very flattering theory about why Potter follows him around like an eager puppy. Still, he’s given the idiot plenty of openings, and the savior hasn’t taken a single one of them, so he’s begun to second-guess himself. Severus takes a deep breath, eyes the space between them, and lurches inelegantly across the foot and a half of leather upholstery that separates them. Even though he’d been aiming for a more graceful slide, something closer to sexy looming than the lumbering wobble he’d managed, Potter’s startled squeak is still satisfyingly high-pitched, “W-what are you doing, Snape?”

“I’m giving you a hint,” Severus dares to smirk, smugness blooming in his gut as he studies his colleague’s flustered body-language.

“A hint?”

“Precisely.”

“Er-

“You should go for it, Pot-er- Harry,” Severus tries purring. It sounds ridiculously pretentious to his own ears, but Potter’s breath clearly hitches.

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you do. You bought me a birthday present. There is a box of my favorite chocolates peeking out of your robe’s pocket. You are not precisely subtle.”

Potter twitches nervously. “Are you planning to kill me for daring to l-like you, Snape?”

Severus recoils. “Why would I do such a thing?”

“Because you’ve just realized I’m a terrible nuisance?”

“You’ve always been a terrible nuisance, and that hasn’t deterred me from liking you back.”

“Oh!”

“Oh?” Severus scoffs, “Is that the best you can do?”

“You like me b— That’s… I can’t believe you like me back,” Potter whispers incredulously.

“Why else would I put up with your maddeningly pointless visits? I’ve been waiting for you to make your move, but you’re going at a snail’s pace, Potter. Don’t tell me your Gryffindor boldness has deserted you when you need it the most.”

“My visits aren’t pointless. I like spending time with you,” Potter huffs but has enough sense of self-preservation to stop arguing when Severus starts glaring. “Gryffindor boldness won’t work on you, anyway. I don’t think you realize—This is not- I more than like you, Snape. I—I’m in love with you, and you’re a Slytherin, so I’m trying to be wise.”

Severus snorts. “How can wisdom possibly help us when love is the complete absence of wit?”

“Help us?” Potter parrots breathlessly, looking insultingly stunned.

“You think I’d have tolerated your constant interruptions of my work if I wasn’t similarly afflicted?”

“Afflicted?” Potter has the gall to burst out laughing, the utter prat, and something soft, hopeful, and utterly fond settles in the pit of Severus’ stomach. “I’m not a disease, Snap-er- Severus. I’m more of a-

“Condition? Disorder? Debility? Plague?”

“Oh, shush!” Potter rolls his eyes, then leans forward and stops Severus from speaking further by pecking him softly on the lips. Severus blinks in stunned shock; then stills and falls silent, unable to even breathe as he luxuriates in the knowledge that he hadn’t been wrong. That, somehow, this time, Merlin has rewarded his reckless decision to grab a lion by the tail and demand its utter honesty. “A plague is way too destructive.” Potter says, “I’d rather be something gentler, something like—a weakness, Severus. Your weakness. Just like you’re mine. The goal here is shared affliction, you know?”

About a million golden bubbles burst to life inside Severus’ scrawny chest. “A shared affliction,” He ponders aloud, marveling at the sheer amount of joy and immeasurable relief the idea brings him. He’s tired of imbalanced relationships, of loving more deeply than he’s loved in return. This is the first time in his life someone has offered him shared affection. “A weakness of the heart,” He whispers, “I like it.”

The expectant intensity in Pot-no, Harry’s expression softens as the savior makes a grab for Severus’ trembling hand and, lifting it to his lips, kisses the knuckles tenderly. “I like it too, my love.” Harry says and Severus smiles radiantly in return, thinking quietly to himself: ‘This is it. This is what My Happily Ever After looks like, and it’s finally here. Happy Birthday to me, indeed.’