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Weight of the World	By : KohakuShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 7559 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters, nor am I making any money off of it. It's called FANfiction because I DON'T own it, right? Right. Good that we're clear.

Chapter List
- 1-I.
- 2-II.
- 3-III.
- 4-IV.
- 5-V.
- 6-VI.
- 7-VII.
- 2
- 3
- 4
III.

“Er, the knob sticks a little,” Harry said sheepishly as
he put the full force of his weight against it to force it open.
“The landlord says he's going to get it fixed, though!”

If the violet door with it's brass knob was any hint, Snape was ready
to be properly horrified by what was beyond it. He squinted against
the dim light of evening coming through a window directly across from
the door as Harry fumbled around for the light.

Harry tripped over something in the dark and cussed.

“Lumos,” Severus drawled lazily, holding up his wand to
find Harry arse up over a large cardboard box.

“Eh heh heh,” Harry laughed sheepishly and blushed as he
pushed himself backward and raked his fingers through his hair.
Sitting there, tousle-haired on the floor of the, as yet, spartan
apartment, Severus Snape had the distinct feeling he was being
seduced. “Should have thought of that, I guess,” the
young man said, nodding toward Snape's lit wand before stumbling back
to his feet and pulling a string hanging from a bare lightbulb in the
center of the room. “I uh, I have a shade for this,”
Harry said. “It's...around here somewhere...”

Harry pursed his lips and crossed his arms in thought. Severus
watched him for a moment before tearing his gaze away. Wasn't the
state of his new living arrangement far more pertinent than the boy
standing in the middle of his parlor? There wasn't much to see,
really – hardwood flooring, with a purplish stain in one corner
that Severus decided he would probably rather not be too terribly
inquisitive about, and which appeared slightly mottled, as if someone
had made efforts to magically remove it, and those efforts had mostly
failed. If Snape had to place a wager on just who that someone was,
he did not think he would lose any money betting on Harry.

The window across from the front door was ordinary, with no curtains
as yet, but a box beside it seemed to have window accoutrements
bursting out the edge, if the brass curtain rod leaning against the
wall was any sign. It was hard to really get a feel for the place. He
found Harry terribly distracting, with the way he would rummage
through one box, sigh, and head for another. It was rather suddenly
that the Gryffindor's green eyes lit up and he ran into the other
room. The marbleized gray tiles implied kitchen. Harry came out
proudly with a dusty rose colored glass covering for the bare bulb.
“I forgot, I brought it in with the kitchen utensils. Sorry
about all the clutter. We were trying to get everything you would
need here, but something came up at work and we weren't able to get
it all put together for you beforehand. I won't lie and pretend
anything here is top of the line – I took the kitchen stuff
from Sirius's house – have way more than I can ever possibly
use, and Hermione donated the curtains and blankets – she said
her parents would never even notice they were gone, they had so many.
I got the light fixture at a yard sale, but most of the stuff in the
bathroom is new. It's probably not to your taste, but it should get
you by until you're settled. I guessed at your size and picked up a
few shirts and some trousers and a jacket. We rescued some of your
clothes, and those are in the closet too, but it doesn't look like
anything you've worn in the past decade or so.” At least not as
far as Harry had seen.

“And books. I knew those were probably the most important
thing, so I salvaged as many books and scrolls as I could. They're in
a crate in the bedroom,” Harry rambled. “Some of your
potions stuff is in a box in there too. I didn't pick up anything
that was missing – you're the expert, I figured you'd want to
pick that stuff out yourself. Uhm...let's see... Well, I know it
doesn't look like much right now, but once the boxes are gone...and
someone will be by tomorrow to lay carpet in this room – cover
up this horrible floor...” He stomped a foot to make his point.

“But it's cheap, and with a little attention it'll be really
nice, I think. I didn't think you'd want to be right in the heart of
London, but somewhere not too far out of the way. You probably go to
Diagon Alley for ingredients and stuff a lot, I guessed. And the
view out of this window is pretty nice. I guess maybe it's too small,
huh? I thought it seemed kind of cozy, but maybe you like to have a
little more space...” Harry fretted. Had he mad a bad choice?
He opened his mouth to continue rambling and abruptly snapped it shut
when Snape interrupted him.

“Potter.”

“Oh, uh, yeah? I mean, yes sir?”

“What color?”

“Eh?”

“The carpet, you fool. What color is the carpet going to be?”

“Oh! I, well, it's brown. Like, sort of like, a coffee color, I
guess. Is that okay? I mean, this shade is pink, and the curtains
Hermione brought by are kind of this...I don't know, peachy-beige
sort of color. I'm not quite gay enough to be good at decorating, but
brown seemed like it would match just about anything. I can call and
try to get another color if you...”

“Brown will be fine, Harry.” Snape nearly smirked.
Honestly, the boy was so nervous, so eager to please. He didn't
realize he'd used his first name until he noted the confounded look
in those shattering green eyes. He wanted to correct himself
immediately but bit down the urge – it would only be admitting
his folly.

“T-today,” Harry sputtered around the frog in his throat.
'Merlin, the way the sunset plays across his features. It's like
he's surrounded by a halo of fire.' And the longer he looked,
the more fire seemed to spread up his thighs and pool in his hips.
'God, I want you.' He forced the thoughts aside. Snape could
read minds, damn it. He shouldn't be thinking about tearing off that
loosely fitted robe and dragging his tongue over the Slytherin's
nipples. He shouldn't be imagining the salty taste of the other
man's skin on his tongue, or wondering what that wonderfully guttural
voice sounded like in the throes of passion. Hard though, it was
very hard. 'Harry, stop it, or you're going to be hard in no time,
too.' He cleared his throat. “This is the only assignment
I have for the next three days,” he blurted. “So, if you
want me to help you get organized, I'd like to help. We can order
some take away. Do you like Chinese? There's a good Chinese place
near here. We can sit down on, uh, well, the floor, I guess, and
have some dinner, and I can help you put up curtains and empty out
these boxes.”

Snape sensed the danger in this. He was no fool, and Harry Potter
had always been an open book where his emotions were involved. The
young man seemed desperate to seduce him. What surprised Severus
most, though, was how willing he was to be seduced. It frightened
him. He would blame it on four years in Azkaban, but he'd gone far
longer without intercourse even without the prison sentence to blame.
All he was sure of was that he didn't want Harry to leave just yet.
It was a clumsy, awkward feeling. He knew he should send Harry on
his way post-haste, and yet, “Fried rice,” he said,
“wonton soup, and sesame chicken. The most appealing thing
about Chinese food is its remarkable ability to taste exactly the
same regardless of how many times it is reheated. Order enough that I
will have leftovers for a day or two.” Grocery shopping was
not exactly an appealing thought at the moment. He wanted some time
to himself before braving the public eye again. How time to himself
translated into time with Harry, he couldn't even begin to guess, but
he'd accepted the young man's offer against his better judgment.

As he was thinking on what the repercussions of that may be, Harry
suddenly and impulsively pulled him down and laid another kiss on his
lips. This one was far more energetic than the last, and Severus once
again responded on instinct alone. This time, he didn't push Harry
away when he felt a hot tongue press industriously past his lips, and
even tilted his head to be more accommodating. Was it a horrible
idea? Yes, the worst. Was it also the best kiss he could remember
every engaging in? Absolutely. He'd already accepted the offer of
Chinese food, after all. At this point, resistance was a truly futile
endeavor. He had known where a dinner date would lead from the moment
he said 'fried rice', so there was no point in playing dumb now.

Harry purred into the kiss and caressed Snape's bony hip through
several layers of over-sized wizard's robes. He gloried in taste of
Snape's tongue, the feeling of his long hair ghosting over the back
of his knuckles where he held side of the older man's neck, and
murmured against the Snape's lips when he dared to reach down and cup
the man's arse. Snape had jumped a bit at that, but didn't deny
Harry the bit of inappropriate behavior. He pulled back, giving
that firm arse cheek one more squeeze followed by a gentle caress. He
licked his lips as he stared up into unreadable onyx eyes. “I'll
be back soon,” he whispered, because after a kiss like that,
whispering always seemed necessary, like talking normally would break
the magic.

“I won't hold my breath,” Snape answered automatically.

Harry was non-plussed. “Yeah, you probably shouldn't,” he
smirked. “Who knows how long the line at the Bejing Garden is
at this hour.” He stole another kiss and gained confidence when
Snape didn't push him away, even though Snape was thinking that he
really ought to.

When the door closed behind him, Severus leaned against the wall and
let out a long-suffering sigh. “I must be depraved, to
honestly be considering this,” he muttered to himself,
remembering the first time he laid eyes on Harry. 'He was only a
small boy then. And I...well, sufficed to say, I was very much not
a small boy.' But Harry the child was several years in the past
now, and the adult version seemed rather eager to get to know a side
of Severus Snape that his students never got to see. Severus adjusted
his trousers, reluctantly admitting, if only to himself, that Harry's
eagerness was contagious.
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Weight of the World