Objects At Rest
A/N: Written for kookoolaka's birthday on Livejournal. Very, very late.
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He shifted, the light coming through the partially closed curtains shining into his eyes and properly waking him from the light doze he'd been in for the last hour or so. Blinking he tried to shake off the last remnants of drowsiness before sitting up in bed, careful not to wake the man next to him.
Moving carefully, he sat cross-legged on the bed, his nakedness barely covered by the blankets. Propping his chin on one hand he considered the man asleep bedside him.
He didn't know how they came to be in this... relationship. Could it even be called a relationship? After all, they only met occasionally – though admittedly more and more frequently over the past few weeks – to talk, sometimes to argue, and at other times to cooperate or discuss the latest plan of the Order. Whatever the reason for meeting, it inevitably led to them ending up in bed.
He sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair, smiling as he remembered the man's earlier comment about it being 'too bloody long'. Truth be told he preferred it this way, it made it more manageable.
Leaning towards the sleeping man, he licked his lips, finding them suddenly dry. Pulling back the edge of the thin sheet covering the man, he slowly, inch by glorious inch, pulled it away to reveal the bare flesh beneath.
Harry's heart sped up as the sheet slowly revealed the rest of the man asleep beside him and, pausing in his pulling, he shifted closer until his knees were almost, but not quite, touching him. He swallowed hard as he gazed down at the relaxed body in front of him, remembering lustily how it felt to move his palm over the smooth planes of that torso, to taste it, kiss and love every part of it...
His hand lifted of its own accord, and he watched – almost as if it were someone else's – as his fingertips traced over his stomach, up to his neck and back again.
"You had better be prepared to finish anything you start," came a low rumble just as his hand reached the top of one thigh.
Harry flicked his gaze towards Snape's face to find him looking straight back at him, albeit a little sleepily.
"And if I'm not?" Harry asked, unable to resist teasing. Something about being with Snape... no, Severus in this way had brought out his impetuous side more than ever.
Snape grumbled low in his throat and sat up, leaning back on his elbows. "If you don't, Potter, then I shall have to come up with some form of punishment."
Harry smirked, turning his head away to try and hide it. "Oh, I suppose I should stop then..." he trailed off, his hand brushing purposefully along Snape's inner thigh.
"Stop and I'll still punish you," Snape answered, moving to pull Harry's upper arm and drag him to rest on his side. "But it will be one you won't enjoy."
Harry rose an eyebrow in reply, and jutted his chin up in defiance. "That so?"
Harry's eyes fluttered shut as a hand grasped his waist and pulled the length of his body into flush contact with his own. "Yes," Snape replied before leaning down and kissing him.
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