Severus tilted Harry's face up towards him and then twisted up to meet his lips. The kiss was warm and loving, lasting much longer than he anticipated.
Once they parted, Harry rested his cheek on Severus' chest, seemingly content to lie there tangled on the couch for the rest of the night.
"Severus?" Harry called a sleepy time later.
"Mmmm?"
"No one's ever going to hurt you like that again – ever," Harry whispered, clutching him tight as he confirmed Severus' guess as to what had motivated the gentle loving.
Although the sentiment made him feel good, it wasn't in Severus' nature to fool himself. "The future can never be accurately predicted, for all of Professor Trelawney's ranting." Never had he spoken truer words. Was there anything in his past that would have led him to suspect that he would ever be lying here naked, cradled in Harry Potter's arms? He knew this gift could disappear as arbitrarily as it had arrived. "No one can say what will befall another person in their future."
"Okay, let me rephrase that, then," Harry said. "I'm going to personally guarantee that you're never hurt that way again."
A personal guarantee from Harry Potter was as good as a legal contract. A strange warmth spreading through him, Severus kissed the wildly askew, soft hair on the crown of Harry's head and then said, "I appreciate the sentiment."
"But?" Harry probed.
"Never is a very long time." And Severus knew that he had already strained his luck by keeping Harry this long.
"Yes, it is," Harry agreed. "But I don't ever want to lose you. I love you, and I promise you that's not going to change."
Change was the nature of life, only . . . .
This wasn't a promise he'd ever heard before. Normally, Severus would balk at such an absurd assertion, but as he lay there safe and warm in Harry's arms, he could almost believe it. Or, he could believe that the amazing young man crushing him into the couch would do everything in his considerable power to make those words true. Buoyed by the warmth inside as much as that covering him, he sank into a deep and contented slumber.
*~*~*
Severus awoke to soft kisses. More asleep than awake, he returned them. He was temporarily confused by how cramped their bodies were, but then he remembered last night and realized that they'd spent the entire night on the couch.
Harry's hands ran up and down his body, inciting shivers in their wake as their mouths fed on each other.
Severus shifted beneath Harry, spreading his knees and lifting his legs over his lover's shoulders with practiced ease.
Harry appeared surprised by the move. "You want me to . . . ?"
Recognizing that Harry was still upset over last night's revelations, Severus answered in a sleep-thick voice, "I always want you that way."
The ensuing kiss was deep and gentle.
Harry must have silently summoned or transformed something into their usual lubricant, for the finger that slipped up inside Severus to prepare him was slick with gel. He sighed as Harry's finger pressed against that secret spot deep within him. So good, it was always so good with Harry.
Within moments, Severus was incoherent under the effect of those talented fingers. Harry continued that tender torture for a long time before finally withdrawing his fingers.
They both groaned as Harry positioned his lubricated cock and slid home. If those slender fingers had felt good against his prostate that thick shaft felt incredible. Severus squeezed its welcome length, making Harry cry out. Then Harry began to thrust and the world seemed to shift around them.
As always, the only thing that existed for Severus in these moments was Harry. His entire reality was reduced to that powerful cock thrusting in and out of him. His body one seething nerve of pleasure, he grunted, lifting up for every thrust, his hands grappling Harry's butt to pull him in as deep as he'd go.
They never lasted long in the morning. It felt like mere seconds, or perhaps an eternity, passed, and then Severus was toppling over into brilliant ecstasy. As he sprayed his chest and belly in his doubled over position, he felt Harry still inside him in climax. Harry's groan was so deep; he swore he could feel it reverberate through his own chest.
Then, it was over, and Harry was sliding out of him and carefully lowering his legs to the couch. A moment later, his sweaty, sated lover settled carefully back on top of him.
"Good morning," Severus greeted in a wry tone.
Harry chuckled. "Morning, afternoon, night . . . it doesn't matter when. It's always good with you."
Severus tried to take Harry's comment in stride, in the easy, carefree manner it was intended, but he was having difficulty believing that Harry could still feel this way about him after some of the things he'd told him last night. Truth was; he was having trouble believing that Harry was still here at all.
But there was no denying that warm weight in his arms.
"God," Harry sighed after a few minutes of contented cuddling, "I'm going to miss you today."
"We could hardly partake of such pleasures on Molly Weasley's couch," Severus pointed out.
Harry chuckled. "Maybe not, but I'll still miss you."
Severus stroked over Harry's sweat-slick back, breathing in his lover's warm, musky scent. He was startled by how disturbed he was by the idea of Harry leaving him, even if only for only the day. When Harry had first mentioned this outing, it had seemed like it would be a horrible ordeal to accompany him to the Weasleys' for their seasonal celebration, but now the idea of spending the day alone seemed far more unpleasant. It made no sense. He'd really wanted to work on that difficult tumour reduction potion while Harry wasn't there to distract him, but now . . . now he wanted nothing more than to be with Harry.
"I, ah, suppose that it's too late to change my mind?" Severus heard himself ask in an uncertain whisper.
"What?" Harry froze, raising his head from where it was pillowed on his bony shoulder so that their eyes could meet. "Are you serious?"
"I'm sure Ron has already informed his parents that I won't be attending."
"So? I'll firecall Molly and tell her you're coming. I mean, if you really want to come. If you're doing it only for my sake, you needn't, but I'd love to have you there." The excitement on Harry's face attested the truth of that. Even if Severus had been offering to attend solely for Harry's sake, he would have found it impossible to withdraw his suggestion now.
Severus swallowed hard. Despite the visible confirmation of Harry's feelings, it was still intensely difficult for him to suggest his inclusion in any social event, even one to which he'd been invited. "If you don't feel my presence would be intrusive or unwelcome, I would like to spend the day with you."
"That's great!" Harry grinned. "Really fantastic. And, just for the record, you're my lover. I don't go anyplace your presence would be intrusive or unwelcome. I'm going to go firecall Molly right now before you change your mind again."
As his young lover bounced up off the couch, seemingly intent on rushing immediately to the hearth to follow through on his words, Severus softly called, "Harry?"
"No, you can't have changed your mind again already!" Harry groaned.
"No, I haven't. However, knowing Molly Weasley, I just thought you might make a better impression if you had some clothes on. Perhaps I'm wrong about that and – umphh!" Severus grunted as Harry landed on top of him again.
"You're a bastard, you know that, don't you?" Harry whispered between giggles and kisses.
Severus gave what he knew to be his most urbane smile and answered, "I pride myself on it."
To his astonishment, he felt both their bodies grow interested again at the close contact. It was fully another hour before Harry was able to make his call.
*~*~*
Harry stared around the Burrow's noisy, crowded sitting room. The Weasleys' tree was as magnificent as ever, replete with its reluctant garden gnome angel on top. There was holly on the mantel, garlands bunting all four walls, fairy lights wherever he looked, and what seemed to be every red-headed witch and wizard in the Wizarding World crowded into the room. Severus and his own dark heads stood out like decaying, rather than sore, thumbs among all that red. The only other variation was Fleur's perfect blondness.
Harry grinned as the children, who'd been playing with their Christmas presents on the floor, noisily charged their grandmother when Molly entered the room with a tray full of pastries. There were already eight little redheads representing the next generation of Weasleys: Ginny and Dean's four boys, Fleur and Bill's daughter and son, and Maggie and Charlie's two boys. The truly scary part was that no one had finished adding to their families yet. Both Ginny and Maggie were round with their next baby well on the way.
Molly put the tray down on an already overflowing side table and wisely retreated from the feeding frenzy.
