Loverboy.

[pekeleke]

Title: Loverboy.
Author: pekeleke
Pairing(s): Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Rating: M
Length: 704
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Don't own these characters. I make no profit from writing fanfiction.
Summary: “Good morning, Sunshine,” Harry singsongs and giggles like a naughty schoolboy upon hearing Severus’ rumbly groan. 
"I. Will. Hex. You."

A/N: I want to dedicate this particular work to my dear friend Teryarel, since today is her birthday, and I'm hoping this drabble will make her smile. Happy birthday, Teryarel! May your day, and year, be merry. ❤️
 

Loverboy.

Harry Potter blinks awake in the hushed quiet of his sunlit bedroom. It's too early in the year for birdsong to guide his way out of sleep, but that doesn't make this Saturday morning any less perfect. He is off work. Safely ensconced within the cozy cocoon of his warm blankets, breathing in the familiar scent of home. Opening sleepy green eyes, Harry catches the beloved sight of his husband's delicate left ear pocking up through tangled dark hair. His heart dances, lighthearted with fondness, and a goofy smile curves his lips upwards. He's never figured out how Severus manages to sleep with his face so firmly planted on his pillow, but he adores watching it happen. Harry finds the sight -the knowledge- of it comforting. It's such a trivial detail about the head of St. Mungo's Potions Research Department, but he is the only person in the world aware of it, and that makes the knowledge as precious a treasure as unicorn horn.

A mischievous grin settles on Harry’s face as his gaze focuses on the pale curve of that thoroughly adored ear, and his waking mind sharpens with the nascent outline of a playful plot. Harry doesn’t think twice before puckering his lips and blowing softly across his wrinkled pillowcase. Severus’s dark tresses dance a little, and his sensitive ear twitches in response, but he doesn’t wake up.

Harry stifles a small laugh and wriggles closer. He lifts his head high enough for his lips to hover directly over that beloved seashell and blows on it delicately. Severus’s ear twitches once again. His hair shifts enough to expose the sharp line of his sexily stubbled jaw to Harry’s greedy eyes.

Harry’s mouth waters as he moves, lured even closer by the fragility of that ear, the softness of that hair, and the masculine appeal of his husbands’ unshaven jaw. Harry takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the familiar scent of the man he fought so hard to woo, and lets himself bask in the moment. Severus is warm and content, and here, artlessly tangled in their bed-sheets. This is Harry’s personal definition of perfection. He grins like a fool, delighted and in love, and blows on Severus’s ear one more time, allowing himself the pleasure of succumbing to the tidal wave of arousal traveling from his chest to his gut to his groin.

Severus groans sleepily, and Harry’s reverent fingertips curve around the ball of his shoulder, brushing away his hair to expose the scarred skin of his neck to Harry’s loving gaze. He blows softly upon that too. “Good morning, Sunshine,” he singsongs and giggles like a naughty schoolboy upon hearing Severus’ rumbly groan.

“I. Will. Hex. You.”

Harry laughs. His smile grows wider. His heart fills with pure fondness, and he doesn’t even try to resist the impulse of planting the softest of kisses upon the terrible scar that mars Severus’ swan-like neck. “You won’t.”

“Of course I will,” Severus grumbles, turning his head to glare at him. Harry kisses his pale forehead, his sleep-wrinkled cheek, and his chapped bottom lip in quick succession, earning himself a mollified huff and a drowsy smile. “Fine. Maybe I won’t hex you yet.”

“You know you won’t hex me at all, you grouch,” Harry says, kissing him fully on the mouth, morning breath be dammed.

Severus hums into the kiss and grins sleepily, smugly, against Harry’s lips. “Tea,” he demands as he pulls away, dark head plopping gracelessly against his pillow.

Harry laughs, plants an amused peck on the very tip of Severus’s cold nose, and lets himself fall into their familiar wake-up routine. Out of bed before his first morning cuppa, Severus Snape would have terrified the Gryffindor right out of Godric himself. “Tea,” Harry agrees, pushing the bed-covers away in preparation for his upcoming trip to the kitchen, “Don’t you dare move an inch, gorgeous. I have wonderful plans for you.”

Severus’s dark gaze follows him across the room. The evil git has the patience to wait until Harry reaches the doorway to shoot him that sexy, come-hither look he knows Harry can’t resist, and purr, “Then you better hurry up, loverboy. I’m definitely in the mood for— wonderful.”