Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Book 02 : A Bit Of All Right
by I Got Tired of Waiting

Part III : Conflict
Chapter Twenty Five : Perchance to Dream

20 June 2003

Severus came back from his wandering thoughts and steps an hour before dawn. Exhausted but wide awake--which would have heralded a normal state of affairs had this been four years ago--his body remembered the feeling (and was not pleased) even as his mind struggled with it. Not expecting Harry to be there, he made no effort to hide his presence as he entered the bed chamber, so it was with some surprise he heard the sleepy, "Severus? Is that you?"

As he toed off his shoes and socks, he said quietly, "Yes, Harry, it's me." He placed the well-worn shoes to the side before opening the door to the wardrobe, the socks thrown inside.

"Hmph. What time is it? Where have you been? I've been worried," Harry mumbled, still half-asleep. And do I really need--

--want to know? "I was out wandering the corridors," Severus answered truthfully. He unfastened his robes and tossed them in the bottom of the wardrobe with the other clothes to be cleaned by the house-elves.

"Oh. Are you all right? You haven't done that in years." Harry sounded a little more awake. He was buried snug in the bed clothes, his eyes half open, watching him take off his high-collared shirt and throw it in to join his discarded robes.

Severus unfastened his trousers and pulled them off. He shivered a little, although the cool dungeon air felt good on his bare legs. Pulling the belt out of the loops at the waistband, he hung it on a hook embedded in the wardrobe's door. "I'm fine, Harry. I just couldn't sleep," he replied blandly. Liar--

--Liar. "Why not? You usually sleep like a log. Is something bothering you?" Harry asked, yawning. The trousers joined the shirt.

"The bed was cold," Severus stated flatly and decided that pretty well summed it up. He pulled off his boxers and tossed them in with the rest of his clothes.

Severus' chilly words went right through Harry with a sharp stab, piercing his gut with twisting guilt. His eyes narrowed in saddened speculation as Severus padded naked over to his dresser. He couldn't help but notice that his lover had lost a lot of weight, the slenderness of before was now more of a wiry thinness. His apologetic, "I'm sorry, Sev. I've been working with Dumbledore," was for more than just his absence. This is going to be much harder--

--as difficult as I thought. Severus turned quickly to him, the pyjama bottoms in his hands held in front of him as he'd been preparing to put them on. He raised his brow and said sharply, "At midnight? How convenient." He bent and put the bottoms on, the top band riding loose and low on his hips. He wondered whether he would have the strength or the idiocy, as the case may be, to confirm Harry's meetings with Dumbledore.

Harry sat up in bed, his chest bare, the covers pooling at his hips. He watched the play of muscles under Severus' skin as he closed the door to the wardrobe. Harry felt the familiar tightening; he knew well the hungry look in Severus' eyes. Lovely man, come to bed--

--always so sexy when he's tousled. Severus felt his stomach clench and his desire fade when the longing in Harry's eyes slowly disappeared to be replaced with an indefinable something--regret? defeat?--with which he was unfamiliar. He heard Harry sigh--in disappointment? Oh Merlin, don't you want me?--

--he doesn't seem interested. Harry rolled over and watched Severus approach the bed, putting out the lights on the way. The soft glow from a quarter moon through the open curtains gave enough illumination for him to see his lover as he arrived at the side of the bed.

Severus pulled back the covers and climbed in. He debated with himself a moment and then, deciding he couldn't play coy, lay on his side facing Harry. They stared in each others' eyes in the dim light, searching for the same answers to the same questions, when neither one knew the other was asking. Their hands found each other first, meeting and entwining in the space between them. Do you--

--still love me? Harry leaned in and lifted his head up, giving Severus a prolonged kiss, his hands gripping desperately in the dark.

Severus kissed him back, softly, but with no fire. He regretfully broke it off first and, closing his eyes, traced his hand down Harry's cheek, the smooth skin turning into rough stubble with pinprick points against sensitive fingers. Do you--

--still want us? Harry held still. Severus' touch, the gentle tenderness of it, whispered his feelings of love louder and stronger than any words he might have used. He held his breath as those fingers ghosted over his lips only to realise they'd never moved from their place at his jaw. He leant into the feather touch and, this time, the meeting of their lips was a benediction.

Severus felt Harry's faith in him, in them, in the simple joining of their mouths. He drank it in with a gratitude only a man dying of thirst can truly give. And once his parched soul was filled, he gave it back in full measure until he could feel Harry relax into him and they were sharing again, the way they'd always had, the need to give or take unnecessary with the fullness of the other. Ending the kiss, he opened his eyes to see Harry's so close, the light from the window behind him making them dim points of light in a pool of darkness. Pulling away his other hand, he hopefully put out his arm, arching it over Harry's head.

Grateful for the offer, Harry moved enough to nestle his head in his hollow on Severus' chest, the soft crisp down there cushioning his cheek. He scooted closer and, partially covering his lover, his free hand made random patterns on Severus' skin, his other lying on the pillow to finger the spread strands of Severus' hair.

Severus closed his arms in relief, the sweet burden enfolded. Do you know how good--

--content you make me feel? Hands at waists--Severus' head resting lightly on Harry's--both staring into nothing--their mutual thoughts floating around like milkweed on the wind.

They shifted again, each moving unconsciously nearer to the other. An intimation of body meant to convey, without the unutterable words, the closeness of their hearts. He's here now--

--tonight with me. Severus closed his eyes and let himself feel his lover's body tight against him, the heat of Harry's skin thawing some of the fear around his heart. That has to mean--

--count for something. Harry slid his hand lightly up Severus' side; the steady beat of Severus' heart under his cheek calmed him and mitigated his earlier despair. So close, so good--

--don't ruin it now. Shifting legs tangled in familiar comfort while twined arms captured and held their cherished reunion. Despite their best efforts to savour and prolong the bittersweet tenderness, their eyes grew heavy, their breathing slowed. And as the night wrapped around them in downy slumber, a hopeful thought accompanied them to their dreams.

Nothing else matters--
--as long as he's here.

**** TBC ****