Disclaimer: Please enjoy this New and Improved Generic Disclaimer (now with added "I don't own the title either"!)
(a/n: Okay, so I've only very recently become interested in this pairing (blame Netrixie, for whom I wrote this fic, (read her Snarry. It's SO much better than mine) because it's all her fault I even started reading it in the first place) and this is my very first try at writing it. I'm deeply afraid it will be hated with a fiery passion (or worse, not read at all) so why not leave me a handy review to let me know whether I've utterly wasted my time or not? 'Cause I'll be more than happy to do it again if you don't completely hate it…
Anywho, I'd imagine that this would be set somewhere around like sixth or seventh year…but an at least mildly alternate one because, well jeez, take your pick of the plot points that would render this whole thing completely impossible…to be honest, I didn't think that hard about any of that stuff because a) that's way too much thinking to do for an experimental one-shot and b) I wrote this whole thing in the space of about forty-five minutes.
So you can't blame me if it's awful.
P.S.
If you're wondering about the title situation, it's merely due to the fact this song played no fewer than five times on my i-pod's shuffle setting while I was writing this story (despite the aproximate EIGHT MILLION FRIGGIN' SONGS I have on the stupid thing) and at that point I just had to call it that, don't you think?)
All of the good that won't come out of me
And all the stupid lies I hide behind
It's such a big mistake
Lying here in your warm embrace
—Rilo Kiley
What in Merlin's name am I doing?
The thought bit irritatingly at the back of Severus Snape's mind for the tenth time that evening, the hundredth time that week, the uncountable millionth time since he'd managed to amass the awe-inspiring amount of stupidity required to involve himself with a student.
The quill with which he'd been absently administering failing marks slowed to a stop and he sighed inwardly. All his life he'd been told he was clever. Intelligent. A prodigy in certain fields. So how exactly had one so purportedly brilliant managed to do something so—
"Severus!" The voice was tinged with faint annoyance, giving him the impression it had been repeating itself for some time. "It's me! Open the bloody door, it's freezing down here!"
Severus blinked impassively, his brow furrowed with a slight frown, but didn't leave his seat.
—so monumentally idiotic? As though his reputation needed to get any worse…
"Severus!"
He ran his fingers through the long tangle of his hair distractedly, tapping his quill against his desk in mild irritation.
The whole bloody situation was ridiculous. What the hell sort of place did he have messing about with a boy whom he was quite literally old enough to have fathered? It hardly mattered that Potter hard started it. That Potter had been the one to kiss him, that first time, and practically every time afterward. That Potter had wanted it and Severus might as well have been saying it in Portuguese for all that boy understood the word "no". He should've put a stop to it. He should've done something, anything other than…well, exactly what he had done.
"Severus, I know you're in there." The voice was lower now, a sign of yet another inexpert attempt at seduction. Severus rolled his eyes, putting his head down in excellent imitation of his dimmer students. "I can see the lights under the door."
Shit.
"Now I can hear you running around the room trying to put them out."
Severus froze where he was, biting back a sigh of infinite frustration.
"Sev, I've been out here for half an hour. If I was going to leave, I'd've done it by now." There was a very long silence, but no response. "And I'm sure it won't be the least bit odd when they find me asleep in your doorway tomorrow morning—"
"May I assist you in some way, Potter?" Severus snapped, flinging the door open with strength that belied his slender build.
"Well, yeah," the boy returned, stepping uninvited across the threshold and into his teacher's personal quarters. "You can stop calling me 'Potter' for one, and second, you can stop being a miserable arsehole, and third—" He grinned obscenely, emerald eyes glinting perversely in the dim light as he kissed the older man hard on the mouth. "Oh hell, I've forgotten it now."
"Potter," warned Severus in a low, annoyed voice, thankful that the low light obscured the profound effect even such little contact had on him, "this is not the time—"
"It's never a good time, is it, though?" he inquired, his tone unmistakably frustrated. "You've always got a sodding excuse now. I thought maybe if I just showed up you wouldn't—" His confidence seemed to fade as quickly as it had appeared, and he pulled back with sudden reluctance. "I don't understand what I did to make you stop wanting me."
Severus sighed again, this time of one of resignation. The sort of sigh that only occurs in knowing you're stuck with something you weren't ever supposed to have in the first place.
"Harry." The boy's eyes brightened pathetically at the mere use of his first name and Severus felt a pang of sympathy at the total lack of affection he must've been used to for so little an act to make him smile like that. "You've done nothing. I am…I'm merely…" The words were reluctant to leave his mouth, and he only hoped they wouldn't sound as unnatural as they felt. Love was an awful word for it, but then what else could he call it? It was well beyond affection, or lust, or any other feeling he could find a name for. Maybe it had been like that, once, those first clumsy weeks of noncommittal love-making before either of them had really understood it, when he'd still been able to convince himself it didn't mean much of anything, but now…
Now he'd done enough thinking, enough waiting, enough nothing to last him to the ends of the earth.
"…in love with you," he finished quickly.
He could feel the younger man smiling as he pressed his open mouth to Severus's own, their tongues meeting more passionately than he ever remembered. "Is that all? You could've said."
A rare smile crossed the potion master's lips as he reached for his wand to put out the last of the lights.
As far as mistakes went, he had to admit this was one of the better ones.
(a further a/n: LE GASP! A HAPPY ONE-SHOT? FROM K-SAN? SURELY THINE EYES HAST DECEIVED THEE!
Erm, well, no. I'll warrant that it is indeed complete, abysmal, marshmallowly garbage, but I did in fact actually pen it with my own two hands…or type it with the aforementioned appendages…or something…
So what do we think? Shall I write this pairing always? Shall I never go with in eight hundred miles of Snarry again? Want to help me refine my craft? Want me to stop using up the whole world's supply of question marks?
Well, that's what that nifty little review button is for, is it not?)
