Harry and Severus didn't hold much with supererogatory statements of affection. Long, languid kisses in front of colleagues, friends, or just the idiots of the general populace had absolutely no place in their life. Neither did owls arriving with giant bouquets of flowers during dinner, intimate caresses in public, or grand sweeping statements of love and undying devotion.
They already knew of their undying devotion. And their love. And their affection.
They were both intensely private men, too. Harry, having lived his entire life in the public arena, gave absolutely no fuel to the journalistic fires. Severus, who was still uncomfortable with every eye trained on him as Harry's husband, agreed whole-heartedly with him.
Besides, they much preferred little acts of love. Little things that made their lover's day.
Like today.
Severus had spent all day brewing potions. Harry knew that Severus disliked taking long breaks during a big brewing day, so he brought Severus a lunch that didn't interact with any of the potions (seven years of Potions, and look what he used it for!). When Severus returned from the lab, tired, sore, and rather cranky from the backache he got from being bent over a cauldron, Harry encouraged him to sit down on the couch. Once Severus did, Harry massaged his neck and shoulders until Severus was a relaxed, gooey puddle of happiness.
"I have to go check up on Charlie's new snake tomorrow," Harry announced over dinner. "Apparently, the snake's being very temperamental and nearly bit Charlie a couple times. He wants to know what's wrong with the snake, so he asked me to talk to him."
Severus nodded. He knew exactly what he would do for Harry tomorrow.
Harry arrived late in the evening, tired, grimy, and exceptionally dirty. Just as Severus had thought.
"Hi, gremlin," Severus greeted.
Harry smiled wanly at the sobriquet. "Hi, Sev."
"I've drawn a bath for you already," Severus smiled.
"Oh, thank Merlin. Does it involve you?"
"Not until you're squeaky clean, my dear gremlin. You're covered in dirt and snake oil," Severus snickered. "But I promise, after I've washed you off – and I will – I'll get in the tub with you. Perhaps I could even be persuaded to get in you."
"I'm sure I can think of something. Not that it takes much. You adore bathtub sex almost as much as I do."
Severus laughed. "Very true. Into the bath with you."
Harry stripped efficiently and sighed as he slipped into the almost scalding water.
"Good?" Severus asked.
"Oh, yessss…" Harry hissed.
"While you're hissing, tell me what the snake wanted."
"Oh, he was pissed because he doesn't like rats and that's what Charlie had been feeding him. He prefers white mice and has somehow developed a taste for raw beef."
Severus laughed. "Interesting, for a snake."
"Oh, forget about him. Join me."
As Severus slipped in the water, he knew that his earlier thought was spot-on: they had no need for supererogatory statements of love. This was far better.
Supererogatory – adj. 1. Going beyond what is required or expected. 2. Superfluous; unnecessary. Word of the Day, February 29, 2008)