Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Book 03 : Epithalamium

Part III : The Beginning of Forever
Chapter Thirty One : The Birds and the Bees

Edited for FanFiction:net: 1,237 sexy words were sacrificed on the altar of the rating gods. I apologise if this feels choppy in any way, but coitus writus interruptus is never a pretty thing. Remember, if you are of age, the full version is available at my site.

26 October 2003

Severus supposed that if someone had told his younger self that he would someday greet almost every sunrise by lazily making love, he would have been of two minds about it. The larger, cynical part of him would have blasted the bearer of such impossible news with a snarled, "Sod off!", while admonishing his foolish body to stop being such an bloody optimist. The smaller, hopeful part of him would have eagerly asked, "Who? Where? When?" Nowadays, with both parts insufferably cheerful, there were few unanswered questions, although the hard part wasn't quite as instant.

However, whatever he might now lack in response, he more than amply made up with enthusiasm. And with Harry, getting there brought a pure pleasure all its own; he loved every nook and cranny on Harry's body. But he had to admit, of all the things he could do, there was nothing better than, as Harry called it, 'a little morning nibble'.

There was something almost ritualistic in their morning pastime--rather like drinking strong dark tea with breakfast; the day just didn't start out right without it. He'd wake, usually on his side spooned tight to Harry, and after a stretch, he'd roll out of the bed. Then he'd make the stealthy trip to the loo, impatiently waiting for his morning arousal to subside so he could take a leak. Once returned (usually freezing), he'd embark on the dark and dangerous trek under the covers.

If he were really lucky, his lover would awaken before he got much further than his chest and Harry's arms and legs would wrap around him to pull him down oh so close. Grinding his wild oats for a morning treat was always a pleasure and all the more special for its rarity. However, most of the time, his lover slept so deeply he could make his way unimpeded to the offering on the altar as it stirred in its recumbent slumber. It was so easy to settle himself to have a leisurely morning 'service'.

Worshipping Harry awake.

He would always wait for the first groan, a groan that would turn into soft mewling noises torn out of the back of Harry's throat heard only because the covers would have come sailing off as his avid lover strove to cool a body burning.

And Severus would pleasure Harry. When he could feel Harry getting close, he would really get to work, loving the feeling of Harry falling over the edge, his body stiff and still, his breath caught in straining lungs--all to topple over in an explosion of sensations felt by every part of his body.

Eventually the hands of his lover would finally drop to his head, languidly massaging his scalp, only to fist and grab and pull, as they wordlessly demanded his presence at the head of the bed. Supremely smug, like a cat with cream on his whiskers, he would slide his way up his lover, noting the deep creases in the sheets made by clawing fists. Harry's hands would caress him. And once he was settled, those hands would come up to cup his face to bring their mouths together.

Here the routine varied. Harry might like receiving his loving the same way each morning, but he preferred the giving of it to be a surprise. Sometimes--most times if he thought on it, Harry would be ready for another go while Severus ached with his need for release. And oh! could Harry make it worse before it got better. Which suited Severus just fine; he never left the bed unsatisfied. Afterwards, they would enjoy a good cuddle, sometimes (if they had time) languidly discussing what they had to do that day, before rolling out of bed, groaning, to start their day with everyone else. Somehow, teaching the little brats didn't seem so horrible when seen from within Harry's arms.

But today it was all--different.

Oh, it began in much the same manner. Wake, stretch, and regretfully stumble stiffly out of a bed suddenly too warm. Into the field. He inhaled the sweet morning scent deeply, amazed he'd not noted it before now. His trip to the loo, even without need of a dressing gown, took longer than normal as body stubbornly refused to cooperate for him to do his business. Feeling a fool, he stood there talking to it as if it would ever respond to reason (and he didn't know why he'd thought that particular capriciousness would be any different).

Finally need met sense and, with relief, he finished what he'd come for. He strode back into the bedchamber, his impatient thoughts centred on how long he could make Harry whimper when he stopped in the middle of the room. A bird. He'd definitely heard a bird. Somewhere in the room. He glanced all around him and when he could find no source for the annoying trilling (but saw some bees buzzing happily around the clover), he decided to ignore it. For the moment. He knew one house-elf he was going to have a serious discussion with later; flowers and spring breezes were one thing, but birds and bees were a little over the top. Knowing his luck so far, he'd get stung in the arse.

Then it got truly strange.

Standing by the side of the bed gazing at his sleep tousled lover, now husband, he felt unaccountably nervous, which he immediately thought was an incredibly stupid way to feel given he'd done this, he tipped his head back to do the math, well over a thousand times without a hitch. But there it was. His heart was pounding with the same trepidation he'd felt the first time he'd ever touched Harry. His mouth was dry and he tried to still the tremour in the hands desperately wanting to reach out and touch the silky skin peeking out from under the tossed covers. The same inane questions floated through his head. Would Harry like it? Would he think him sexy enough? Did his mouth taste fine?

He gave himself a hard shake. What the hell was the matter with him? Was he sickening? A quick internal check revealed that not only was he healthy, but he felt good. Better than he had in years. His arms even felt the same; looking down at his left arm, he smiled at his long-standing fancy that the one arm had always weighed more than the other because of the burden it bore. That feeling was replaced by an ebullient sense of well-being, of wholeness.

'Must be the bond, he thought. 'I felt something of this last night before I slept, but because of the curse, only a small part could be felt.' The curse! Gone! Strong feelings surged through him--elation, love, gratitude, arousal--

"While I admit the view from here is quite scintillating, I'm thinking it would feel much better if you were to join me." The voice, low and sexy, almost a purr, rippled through his skin, making pleasant aches in all the right places. But his feet were frozen to the ground as the doubts flooded his mind.

Harry raised a brow and, getting to his knees, clamboured across the covers until he kneeling right at the edge. Reaching out to Severus with a murmured, "Feeling a bit shy myself," he slid his hands around Severus' waist as far as he could and, with a little flex of his fingers, pulled him flush with the bed. Arms tentatively wrapped around each other until flesh met flesh with a gasp. "Wow. I felt that!" Harry exclaimed at the same time Severus moaned.

Harry ran his hands up his lover's back; Severus could feel with his fingertips the corresponding skin stipple with pleasure up Harry's back. He tilted his head and chased his lips down Harry's neck, feeling it ghost down his own until he hit there where neck meets shoulder. At this most sensitive of spots, he felt himself jerk with a shot of fire speeding straight to his groin as if a hot wire extended directly between the two places.

Severus and Harry stared at each other in delight. "If that felt--"

"--I wonder what--" He never got to say it as Severus suited words to actions and took his mouth in a searing kiss. Sensation fed on sensation as lips meshed perfectly. Bodies held tightly together, they fell into the bed hardly aware of the impact as they explored. It was old, it was new, smooth and awkward as all the familiar places were revisited, each finding what the other truly liked to receive and do.

Severus' skin was like a finely tuned instrument, there was no place that didn't sing when Harry used hands and mouth on him. Harry soon found that his lover's hands were especially sensitive. The fingers splayed taut when he kissed and laved the palm. As he nibbled and sucked on Severus' fingers, the sensations shooting through his own hands spread an unbearable tension throughout his whole body, almost sending him over the edge.

He'd always known Severus responded best to touch. Each slide of Harry's fingertips along his mate's tender skin would cause it to contract, each kiss bestowed would elicit low, sexy groans. Now he knew from his own twitching skin that to Severus, his touch felt almost like orgasms flashing at each point of contact. Inspired, he soon reduced his husband to a writhing, whimpering wreck. It was quite intoxicating when he made Severus shudder and cry out, hands ripping the sheets.

Severus discovered that the place on Harry's neck was only one of many places that could make him writhe helplessly, one of them being the back of his knees. He'd always known Harry loved to be kissed, almost anywhere, especially on the mouth where he could and did reciprocate with pleasure, but he soon found that licking Harry's lips sent heat coursing through him, and kissing him a certain way made his husband almost mad inside.

But later, when he dipped down and took his normal morning pleasure, it strained every ounce of Severus' control; he'd no idea Harry was so sensitive and his wicked mind filled with the hundreds of sublime tortures he could devise to send Harry over the edge again and again. He'd felt his own passion build with Harry's, measure for measure, and soon found himself busy shouting out at the same time as Harry.

"Wow," was Harry's only response as he pulled on Severus' hair to bring him back up to him.

"It's good to know I can still render you speechless," Severus murmured, his voice low and husky. He jerked as he felt Harry's instant response.

"Just as long as you don't stop talking, that's fine with me," Harry said, his face flushing with embarrassment.

Severus decided to take pity on him. Lying next him, with only their hands joined, Severus whispered, "Speak Parseltongue to me."

Raising his brow as he rolled onto his side so he could see better, he thought about it a second and then said, ::Ssseverusss Sssnape, you are the sssexiessst man on earth.:: His eyes widened when he felt the ripples roll through his lover. With only his voice, a gift he usually attributed to his lover.

::Come to me, Ssseverusss. I need to feel all of you,:: he said, tugging on his mate as he rolled on his back.

"You wicked boy," Severus murmured, obliging Harry.

Harry found a freedom he'd never known talking to Severus like this; he could say whatever he wanted and not feel shame at it, not that he thought Severus would ever ridicule him for it, but Severus generally like love-making, if not silent, at least not full of chatter, whereas Harry could be quite vocal. But if he liked this...

::No, Ssseverusss. All of you.:: "I need to feel all of you," he said, pulling him flush to him. He arched his back enough to invite Severus to wrap his arms under him, which he did, finally settling most of his weight on him.

"I'm not too heavy?" Severus asked in concern.

"Have you ever been?" Harry asked, meeting his question with one of his own.

"No, I suppose not, but--"

"--it feels like the first time. I know. I feel it, too. Like I've never been with you before."

Severus dipped his head, sealing their mouths. Fire ran through them as each answered the other's kiss. Breaking away, Harry gasped, "Like each kiss is the first."

Closing his eyes, Severus whispered, "My husband--"

::My mate,:: Harry choked out.

"Together," ::Together,:: they said at once, their bodies moving in time with the beating of their hearts.

Pleasure built on pleasure as their bond, finally released, strained to bring them together. Severus whispered words of endearment into Harry's sweat-soaked shoulder while the sibilant sounds of Parseltongue skated across his skin as strongly as Harry's hands grasping on his back, his waist, his sides, anywhere they could reach. Farther it took them, bringing into them the tempest of their bodies to forge the binding of their lives. Deeper it went in both body and spirit until near the end they were one: one body, one passion, one heart, one soul, forever joined.

Severus almost stopped breathing when Harry arched into him, his eyes closed tightly as fingers clenched and inarticulate cries escaped perfect lips, his powerful climax ripping through them both. Severus consumed those cries, his mouth sealing Harry's as his own overwhelming release echoed in the shuddering beneath him, Harry's hands and arms and legs clasping him close. Consummated, the bond let them ride the aftershocks until they sagged against each other, boneless in the aftermath, still one, still joined tenderly inside each other.

"Gods, I love it this way," Harry softly murmured, enjoying the soft nips Severus was giving his neck while his heart returned to its normal pace. He breathed deeply and sighed.

Severus, still catching his breath, stopped nuzzling Harry's neck long enough to muzzily ask, "Hmmm? Why is that?"

"It's close," Harry murmured, trailing his fingertips randomly up Severus' back and sides. "I like the closeness, like your weight on me, makes me feel safe. And hot."

He raised his head to look at him. "Hot?" he asked, not quite sure if Harry meant before or after.

"You're very warm, Sev. It's nice. Much better than a blanket." Harry raised his head enough to steal a kiss, long and sweet and light. "Perfect," he said when his head finally fell back to the pillow. "Just perfect."

Curious, Severus closed his eyes and concentrated until he could 'sense' what Harry was feeling right now--an utter stillness inside, something he'd never experienced within himself. For that one full moment of emotional contact, Severus found what Harry received out of their relationship. Contentment, quiet, and an indefinable rightness about things as if there was nothing or no one who could touch him except the one he wanted. To such a restless spirit, this first brush with absolute stillness was almost disquieting in its silence until it melded with the feel of Harry's heart beating beneath him, the deep breaths he took, the feel of Harry's hands warm on his back. And his desire--so strong. Not a sexual desire, although Severus sensed he could easily rekindle that if he so chose, but a desire of presence: at this moment, the only one Harry wanted was himself, Severus Snape.

And he savoured that desire for as long as he could. Eventually, unable to continue the connection, he felt bereft of a precious gift as he drifted back to only his own perceptions. He opened his eyes to see green ones staring questioningly at him. They searched his face and, seeing something they liked, they smiled, the corners around them crinkling in what would become a life pattern as they aged. He levered himself up and off, pulling Harry with him until they lay comfortably on their sides in their normal entanglement.

Face to face, he leaned over to kiss him, hoping to recapture what he'd just lost and found it wasn't really gone when the touch of Harry's lips brought back vividly the memory of that moment.

Breaking the kiss, he asked with wonder, "Is that how I make you feel inside when I love you?"

Capturing his eyes, Harry could only nod and pulled him closer, his head finding its way to his hollow.

Severus sighed. "Could be addicting," he said running his hand up Harry's arm. "It's going to be difficult not to touch you tonight."

"Tonight? Oh--the reception, I'd almost forgot." He snuggled closer. "Are you certain we have to be there? I don't recall receiving an invitation."

Severus chuckled, his hand stroking Harry's waist. "That's because we didn't. Wouldn't that serve the old bugger right? Deprived of the guests of honour over a technicality."

"He'd do it to us in a heartbeat."

"True. However, I find myself wanting to attend if only to see what can be done to upset the plans he's so carefully placed in the last few weeks. The rumours have been rife and if nothing else, it would give us the pleasure of confounding him by doing exactly the opposite of what he expects."

"Huh?" Harry pulled away enough to see Severus while they talked. "What does he expect?"

"Harry," Severus began, kissing his nose, "you didn't think the lack of invitation was merely an oversight do you?" When Harry nodded, Severus smiled wickedly. "The man's a sneaky Slytherin; even your hop-scotched Gryffindor logic can see he 'missed an invitation' on purpose--he fully expects us to take the loophole he provided and not attend."

"Or else he expects us to think that was his intention and because we always do what he doesn't want us to do, we would attend," Harry muttered, his brain reeling from the convoluted logic.

Severus pulled is head back, a small smile on his lips. "I'm impressed. I see you're finally starting to use your better Slytherin side." When Harry smacked his arm, they both grunted with the impact. Severus chuckled. "And thus the Gryffindor learns the value of repercussions. This could be amusing." He kissed Harry in mock apology. "However, whatever the reason or the logic, what say you we go anyway."

"I'm game if only to see all the horrid gifts. I'm told they started arriving two days ago and almost fill one of the old classrooms. Some of them move and there's a couple, I'm told, the house-elves won't go near because they're really 'nasty'." When Severus snorted, Harry looked sheepish and glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Um, and speaking of gifts, I'm sorry I have nothing to give you anymore."

Severus kissed him tenderly. "I think it is safe to say I have already received it--perhaps even a bit more than you originally planned. I'm the one who should be apologising; it was a magnificent gift and very thoughtless of me not to thank you for it last night. I know what goes into the Ipsemet Potion's preparation. I intimately know its cost." He leaned over and they shared a serious kiss. "Thank you for your trust in me," he whispered.

"You're welcome," Harry replied, stroking Severus face. "Albus suggested it when I asked him what was the most precious thing I could give you."

"A piece of yourself? I would say so. Speaking of which..." Rolling over, he pulled open the drawer of the bedside table and without rummaging, pulled out a small package wrapped in bright paper with a small bow on the top. For Severus, it was in itself a declaration of love considering his packages usually looked like they'd been tossed into old paper bags and tied with fraying twine left over from his last book delivery. "Mine's not nearly so fine, but I suppose it will do in a pinch," he said with self-deprecation, when in reality his heart was pounding, hoping Harry would like it.

Harry sat up taking the package while Severus scooted over to face him, his upper thigh resting comfortably against his husband's hip. Once they were settled, the paper and ribbon flew, exposing a plain wooden box; Harry could feel the latent magic in it through his fingertips. He slowly lifted the lid to find it filled with excelsior. Raising a brow at both the contents and the nervousness he could feel emanating from Severus in waves, Harry carefully probed through the shavings with his finger until it met something cold and metallic. Adding his thumb, he gently picked up the object and, as the packing fell away from it, he could see it was a heavy gold disc with solid convex sides about the size of a Galleon with a loop on top to hang it from a chain. On one side was an impossibly detailed glyptograph of their seal, clearly Langley's work. Turning it over, he bent closer to read the engraving on the back: Non iam solitarius sum.

He cupped the medallion in his palms and glanced at Severus before closing his eyes. He sank into it and started at the strange yet known Schema he could feel within. He cast about in his memory until he recognized it as an alchemist's Schema very similar to the one imbued in the ball he used for healing, the one that transferred magical energy away from his patients. This one then, perhaps, designed to transfer it to someone? It was already full, the energy it contained achingly familiar.

It was Severus'. His magic captured in an alchemist's matrix. For him?

"For me?" he whispered, barely daring to breathe.

"For you, love," Severus said, his hands folding over Harry's, still holding the pendant.

Harry leaned over and placed his forehead on Severus' shoulder. Severus' arms came up to hold him fast, one arm around his shoulders, the other buried in his unruly hair. He kissed his mate's cheek, the moisture leaking from the closed eyes, to finally press one soft, sweet kiss to his lips. "You are never alone now," he murmured, "you will always carry a part of me with you and should you ever need me when I can't be with you, all you have to do is hold the medallion and say 'Liberatum', and all the energy and magic and love I've placed there will be yours. And when you return, empty, I shall fill it and you, again and again, as often as you need me to."

Harry was silent for a long moment. "Sometimes--I feel like all I have to offer you is so poor compared to what you have given me. Even with what I feel of you inside me, I'm still--stunned--that you could ever want me. Gods, Severus, I love you so much. I just wish--sometimes I just wish I had more to give you."

"Harry, listen to me." When he had Harry's full attention, he framed his face with his hands, saying gently, "You have rid me of a curse I had no hope of surviving," he held out his left arm, "lifted an evil part of my past I thought I would always bear. What gifts more do I need?" He gave him a lingering kiss. A few moments later, his own eyes misty, he quietly said, "Non iam solitarius sum, I am no longer alone; those were the words most precious to me in our vows; the ones with the most meaning, perhaps, to us both. We have given each other our lives, our hearts, our love." He kissed him tenderly, whispering, "And that, my love, is the greatest gift of all."

With the truth of every word Severus and Harry uttered, with every emotion both good and bad they confronted, the bond grew stronger between them for that was its nature, its foundation cast by the intentions of those who made it, the safe haven it guarded built with all the shining things within them. Just as neglect could weaken it, the purity of the thoughts and actions of those who bore it reinforced it. As they held each other close, they could feel it invading the old places of dread within them, bringing light and warmth to places too long cold and dark. Not all at once, though; it would take a lifetime for it to help them overcome the past and bring it into perspective.

But for the moment, the closeness of body and mind and heart was enough. Leaning against each other, the tightly held arms loosened, their heads, settled onto shoulders, became heavy weights as sated and tired bodies lightly napped.

Harry was about to pull them both down for a proper rest, when a most delicious smell crossed his nose. Severus twitched against him, his head raising up to sniff the air. They looked at each other in surprise. Food. They'd forgot all about it, but with the scents of rich culinary delights overriding even the fragrance of the field still surrounding their bed, stomachs long empty began to gurgle and growl in earnest.

Chuckling, they pulled apart. Famished now, Harry winced as his belly cramped, a tightening around Severus' eyes telling him he'd felt it, too. "Seems there's more than one hunger we share," he said drolly, swinging his legs off the bed. He picked up the dressing gowns abandoned in the grass, handing Severus his when he came off the bed.

"As much as it pains me to do so, I may have to take back everything bad I ever said about house-elves," Severus muttered, pulling the robe on and tying it around his waist.

His own robe on, Harry walked over to his wardrobe and, from the top drawer, extricated a flat jeweler's box. Opening it, he pulled out the fine serpent chain Severus had given him with the glyph; he'd removed it for the first time last night before the wedding. With a whispered spell, the chain broke open, and he carefully threaded it through the loop of the medallion. He held the assembled necklace out to Severus who took it from him. Harry turned around and Severus looped the chain around his neck, whispering the counterspell to rejoin the links. He settled the chain against the soft skin of Harry's nape, placing a lingering kiss there for good measure. Harry shivered at the touch, instantly aroused, and turned to face him, his arms stealing around his lover's waist as he pressed them close.

Severus kissed him on the forehead, his growling stomach more insistent than his arousal. With a small smile, he left his arm around Harry's shoulder as he led his half dazed husband out of the bedchamber. "Breakfast, Harry. Remember? We may have shared some protein this morning, but I don't think it's enough to sustain us.

Harry scrunched up his face. "That's just--" he temporized as Severus raised a brow, "--so true."

And with a light laugh and lighter hearts, they went to the dining room. Together.

TBC