Chapter 10: Heaven is Here

The next morning found me earlier than I would have liked. I heard the door shut bellow and had a sinking suspicion that this was the first time Draco had made it in since last night. Gently disentangling myself from Harry, I threw on a robe and met the blonde in the kitchen. He looked like the cat that ate the canary. "Tell me that you didn't do anything stupid," I said grumpily.

Draco smiled. "I didn't. We talked all night. You have no idea how wonderful Remus is! I don't even mind that he's forty-eight."

I raised an eyebrow at the fact that Remus had actually been honest about his age. "I know Remus well enough, thank you."

"As if you've any right to judge! Harry can't be much older than I am," Draco said defensively.

"Age was the last thing I was thinking of when I showed my disapproval. Get some sleep."

I was irritated with the situation. Whether or not this little flirtation went anywhere, it did irk me that good, hard-working Remy saw something in the little prince. True, I still liked Draco more than I did most other people, but he wasn't exactly what you could call a good person. I'd known him to seduce a man and then leave him before the next dawn. He usually took what he wanted and left. Granted, I had a feeling that there was more involved with Blaise, but I wasn't ready to call Draco a saint in that whole mess either.

I decided to go back to bed. About half way up the stairs, I heard cussing coming from my room. I walked into my room to find Harry sitting up in bed rubbing a hand over his face. "Not a pleasant morning?" I asked.

"My head feels like I've been hit by a tank," he grumbled. "I take it you brought me up here?"

"Did I hurt you when I picked you up?" I asked anxiously.

He threw a pillow at me. "I am not going to break if you touch me! But do you know how long it's been since someone picked me up? It's kind of degrading."

I tossed the pillow back at him. "Would you prefer it if I let you get down yourself?" That earned me a glare. Being in no hurry at all to get him out of my bed, I sat down beside him. "Do you remember last night at all?"

"Nothing after drinking all that wine. Did I do something stupid?"

I shook my head and looked away. If he didn't remember it, did he still mean it? I wasn't inclined to ask. "Have somewhere to be today?"

"The center at three, but that's it." He leaned against me. "Planning on keeping me trapped here?" There was that mischievous look in his eyes again.

He had been drunk last night, but today I wanted to give him something to remember. It was my turn to return the favor he had given me the night before. When I kissed him hard on the mouth, he looked a slight bit shocked. Thus far, I had been the one stopping his advances, and now I was making one of my own. I worked my way all over his body eliciting all kinds of moans from him. When I finally reached my destination, he was ready for me. It had been years since I had given anyone this kind of pleasuring. With everyone else, I had been content to take, but now I wanted to give.

After he came, I was nearly bursting myself with anticipation.

I reached for the lube and a condom from my night table drawer. "Put this on me," I commanded into his ear.

He did what he was asked, and looked at me with such intense desire that it only made me want him more. I spread his legs and pulled him to me, all the while watching for signs that I was hurting him, but all I saw was lust. Being inside Harry was the most perfect feeling I could imagine. As a writer, it eludes me to be able to convey exactly what that sensation is. It is so much more than sex.

When it was over, we laid there content for the better part of an hour making inane conversation about who our favorite Beetles were. I had always been a Lenon fan myself, but it didn't surprise me that Harry would choose George. We both agreed that Ringo was an ass.

The only tense moment of the entire morning came when he asked if I would get him a washcloth to wipe off with. I offered to run him a bath, but he quickly refused. "It's not that I don't want to get a bath with you, or that I'm thankful that you would offer. It's just that I can do this kind of thing on my own at home. I hate being treated like some kind of helpless invalid."

"I never thought of you that way," I told him biting his ear playful.

He did allow me to carry him back downstairs. Silently, I cursed myself for not sticking to my idea of finding an accessible place. I never knew how much relevance that word would have to a disabled person's life until I met Harry. For him to be autonomous and live a normal life, there had to be certain accommodations made. Doorways had to be wider, thresholds had to be more even, counters lower, bars added to the bathroom, ramps in place of steps. The word accessible encompassed a lot of things. On our second "date," we had heard of a place in the city that was supposed to have amazing Thai food, but they didn't have a ramp. Harry had laughed the whole thing off, but I had felt…..what? Is guilty the right word? I guess it is in a way. I felt guilty that I took it for granted how easily I went about things. I didn't pity Harry. I knew him too well for that. I guess I respected him for not being a whining little shit about it. He didn't deny the fact that he had to do some things in a slightly different way, but he did them. I realized now that to be with Harry, I would have to be aware of the word "accessible" from then on.

I rode with him back to his place, and he fixed me with and impish grin. "Now about that bath?"

After a day that couldn't have gone any better, I even felt brave enough to go to the center with him. I "helped" Harry with his group up at the baseball field. Not really knowing the game and having no real interest, I hung back and just watched as he pitched underhand to his group of eight year olds. Everyone got a turn to bat. The children that needed help were never laughed at. Overall, it seemed that Harry's speech hadn't just been lip service about what they did here.

"You're turn!" an enthusiastic little girl told me holding the bat up.

"Oh, no," I said, but Harry was sitting there laughing at me and my pride demanded that I at least make contact with the ball.

I stood on the plate and mimicked the stance I had seen, but to my embarrassment, the children began to giggle.

"Who wants to show Severus how it's done?" Harry asked. Instantly, hands went up. "Joey."

Joey turned out to be a little boy with downs syndrome. He came running up to me with a big smile. "Like this," he told me showing me his best stance beside the plate.

"Joey, Severus is going to need someone to show him around the bases," Harry suggested from the mound. It then occurred to me exactly why I was going to bat. It made me want to kiss him. I, of course, wouldn't have thought of it, but this was his field of expertise.

I completely missed the two first balls that Harry pitched, and I was absolutely determined to hit the third. CRACK! The ball went out into the grass and I stood there for a moment amazed that I had actually hit it that far. "RUN!" Joey cried from behind me. I took off after the little boy, keeping my pace just a few steps behind him.

"Home run!" Harry declared. "You're a great teacher, Joey."

The boy grinned and wrapped himself around me. In all my life I have never been one for affection. Not really knowing how to react, I patted the boy's shoulder.

That night, as I lay on the couch with Harry. I realized that I didn't "think" that I loved him. I did love him. The idea shook me to the core. This was exactly what I had wanted my whole life, but been afraid of. I was only truly happy with Harry. I loved him more than anything, but I wasn't quite ready to say the words. Instead, I held him closer as he tried to explain to me the rules of baseball during a Diamondbacks game.