Chapter 14: Fasten

There was no light shining beneath his door when he returned to his chambers, but Severus was not fooled; he could tell Hermione was still awake by the nervous energy he felt through their bonded jewellery.

Is she waiting up for me? He wondered as a faint smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, and he felt a warming anticipation begin to flow through him, too. Perhaps it was the way he had teased her with the note he had sent along earlier that day, confirming he would be returning by midnight, but he was… expectant, somehow.

Anticipatory.

Just making curfew, he thought to himself with amusement as he felt the wards pushing against him a moment before allowing him entry into his rooms; midnight was but a few minutes away.

And then he was through the wards, through the door, through to his own living room and hearing footsteps rushing towards him, and a beautiful, healthy, wonderful face happily smiling at him and reaching out to drag him forward.

"You're back! I have supper waiting for you, and the storerooms are done, and I read through the entire book, cover to cover, and I went through the box of Draco's things, and just wait until you see what I managed to do by myself with the unicorn floss, and—"

He tried not to let his amusement, his contentment, his utter satisfaction show through too obviously as Hermione prattled on about every single detail of her business while he had been away.

So he just listened.

And if she noticed the way his shoulders relaxed, bit by bit, or the way he settled against the back of the sofa cushions just to take in her words, the way no potion she had brewed kept his attention longer than simply she could, she did not give away any hint of it.

And if, when they went to bed in the wee hours of the morning when he insisted he had been away for three days straight, and had his shower, their hands happened to casually bump against each other and fold together, and squeeze each one another when they thought the other was asleep, well, neither mentioned that, either.

And he would be damned if he would admit he knew she was awake, when he felt her spike of joy through the resulting warmth that hummed through the pendant against his chest when he smoothed his thumb across the sensitive spot on her wrist.

But Merlin, Severus Tobias Snape revelled in it.

Severus woke when he felt the press of gentle warmth pulling away from his lips, the slip of tender fingers drawing away from his hair, and even with his eyes closed he automatically reached to reclaim it. Continue it. Further it.

When his fingers met a soft, feminine form that stilled upon his contact, his eyes flew open and met faintly panic-stricken honey-brown ones.

"I… you had something on your… face," Hermione mumbled, and colour flooded her pale cheeks. Her eyes were shining and bright and showed no hint of sleepiness.

He felt her breathing quicken rapidly, her warm back moving with the slight inhale-exhale beneath his fingers, and his hands were automatically re-adjusting to slide down to her waist.

"I did," he agreed, his voice low and sleep-roughened still. He felt her shiver beneath his hands, and with tender pressure pulled her slowly down to bed again. "You wouldn't happen to know how that happened, would you, Hermione?"

"Sorry, I shouldn't have—I'll just—" Hermione's words were breathless as he slowly slid his hands beneath the hem of her shirt, and dragged his calloused fingers across the sensitive spot of her lower back. She gasped and arched against his trailing fingertips.

But in that moment, Severus was honestly tired of their mincing around each other, and gently reached further for her. She brought him a peace, comfort, solace, like no other, and selfishly he asked for something purely for himself, something he hoped she wanted, too. Something they could share together and draw strength from, that would renew them and the bonds that bound them to each other in solidarity, in the face of the war they endured.

A relieving comfort that intimacy with a loved one could provide.

So, with that in mind, Severus reached up and kissed Hermione back, a chaste brush of his lips against hers at first, their breath mingling as he pulled back for a heartbeat; then returned for a second taste, pressing his warm mouth more tenderly against her lips, showing her how he adored her and cherished her and her company.

"Stay," he murmured, sliding his hands to hold her hips now. Brought them closer until they fit against his.

"Severus," she whispered, begged, protested, pleaded; her fingers tightened in his sleeping shirt, trembling.

"Stay here, with me," he breathed against her throat, his mouth tracing butterfly kisses and tingling heat down, down, down… "Please, Hermione."

His kisses deepened, and he moaned against her throat when he felt her instinctively move against him, warmth and heat burning from his mouth against her skin.

"Sleep with me."

"Sleep?" she asked, and her head fell back with a faint mewl of pleasure. It exposed more of her pale, flawless throat, and the sound he made in his throat was a satisfied male purr of appreciation as he laved over her pulse-point with languid attention.

"If that's all you want, yes," he agreed, his voice husky and honest.

"I—I don't know if that's all I want," she admitted, confused and unsure, hints of wanton desire coating her uncertain words.

"What do you want?"

"I… I want to kiss you. I want you to kiss me—mmm…"

"Granted," he breathed smugly against her lips some time later. Hermione just nodded at him in a happy, if rueful, daze. She was too worked up to complain—and did not seem to mind when she closed her eyes and bent her head towards him again, and he continued his thorough exploration of her mouth.

His lips caught hers immediately again thereafter, and began gently pressing before gradually widening, opening, offering more and drawing her in, and deepening into a pleasurable, passionate exchange. Her lips were soft, unsure, but eager, and he pressed his body closer to hers, feeling their heat rising alongside their tension. He moved from her mouth down the arc of her jaw to her throat—noting when she cried out, and, once, she even moaned his name aloud and begged him for more when she sank her nails into his side—before moving down to the edge of her neckline, but no further—

—until she started to undo her buttons, and pulled his mouth down further in invitation.

"More, please?" she requested less bashfully, and he eyed her carefully to judge her responses as he continued down, down, until the edge of satin heaved hotly beneath his lips, smoothing against his chin as their eyes met.

He waited for her reaction, and felt her shift slightly.

Settled half-across her, Severus lipped at the silky smooth edge of her bra, and waited for her decision.

"Off," she said without a pause, and arched her back so he could reach behind her.

He did, and his mouth closed overtop of the perfect, soft, sensitive mound as he unclasped each hook, one by one.

He would never, ever, forget the next particular sound: Hermione taking a deep breath as the cool air hit her newly exposed chest when he drew her beautiful but now superfluous underwear down her arms. He took his time, teasing and taunting and torturing her, watching her face as her eyes darkened, watching her chest as her breathing hitched and her mounds were relieved of their confines and their soft, velvet nubs tightened into delicious points.

Nor would he forget the sound she made when his mouth closed over her fully erect nipples when he took each one into his hot, wet mouth in turn, a moment later when he threw her bra who-knew-where, and his hand rose up to caress the other to ensure they received his very dedicated, undivided attention.

And realised what she wanted when she moved fully onto her back, and pulled him by his shirt over her, and then his shirt over his head.

"Off," she said, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.

He smirked and nodded, and helped her pull it away, only distantly recognising the sound of it landing on the floor nearby.

They did not make it down to breakfast that day.

And they were considerably late to lunch.

To be continued

AN: A very special update for you this month, you wonderful readers! Sorry for not replying to comments; there'll be a double-batch of replies next update. Happy December!