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He was in Heaven, or somewhere close to that, Harry thought lazily. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so good, especially in the morning.
Without opening his eyes Harry smiled and burrowed his face into the soft pillow. He could feel the morning sun on his face; he could feel the pleasant chilliness of the room where the window was open through the night.
The blanket over Harry was comfortably heavy, and very, very warm. He rubbed his face into the pillow again. The pillow case was silky to the touch and smelt of pine and vervain. Something stirred in Harry’s not quite awake mind, some memory connected to those scents.
Harry inhaled deeply again. The pine was gin, Harry managed to remember. The gin he imbibed in great quantities the previous night. The gin he got at a Muggle pub, where he’d come to celebrate the New Year, and where he met… someone.
Harry shifted a bit. His body felt languid and heavy, the way it did after good sex. Harry hummed into the pillow. Whoever his partner was, he knew what he was doing. Harry moved his arms up and out from under the blanket and hugged the scented pillow.
A glimpse of memory about strong arms, lithe body and black hair flickered in Harry’s mind and the young man smiled.
In a second Harry’s eyes snapped open, directly into the bright winter morning sun.
Vervain was Snape.
It took Harry some time to realise that he was being blinded by the direct sunlight and to turn his head the other way. To stare directly at Snape.
A very naked, ruffled Snape, who was sitting at the edge of the bed, with his chin propped on his hand, and who has been clearly observing Harry for quite some time.
Harry blinked owlishly and swallowed nervously. “Good morning?” Harry managed to rasp out. For some reason his voice was hoarse.
Snape’s face barely changed its expression. “Morning.” Snape’s voice wasn’t much better than Harry’s, though in his case it was perfectly understandable – the thick ropey scars were still clearly visible on the man’s neck even five years later.
Harry felt his cheeks go crimson as he remembered kissing every inch of that damaged skin last night.
Harry blinked again. “Er… Where is it?” The question sounded stupid, but Harry really couldn’t remember.
“My cottage.” Snape dropped his hand on his knee. Harry’s eyes followed its path, taking in Snape’s naked body, and making Harry remember every touch and kiss he placed on that pale skin.
“Did we…?” But just as the words were out of his mouth, Harry felt that they indeed did – his arse was a bit sore.
Snape raised his eyebrow and looked pointedly in the direction of Harry arse, safely covered by the blanket. “We did.”
“I’m sorry.” Harry burrowed his face into the pillow.
“What for?” Snape kept his eyes on Harry’s blanket-covered form.
Harry shrugged, causing the blanket to slide off his shoulders. “Dragging you into this.”
Snape snorted. “I might not be completely sober yet, but it’s hard for me to imagine how you could have dragged me into my own house.”
“I hit on you, at the pub.” Harry mumbled into the pillow as the events of the previous night began to emerge in his alcohol-drenched mind.
“You first hit on a half a bottle of gin.” Harry felt Snape shift on the bed. “And only then on me.” The blanket was pulled up back to Harry’s shoulders. “And I didn’t resist much.”
Harry ventured opening one eye. Snape was reclining on the bed, his head propped on his hand.
“Didn’t you?” Harry turned his head to see Snape clearly, or as clear as he could without his glasses. “I thought you did. You know, calling me names and telling me to get lost.”
Snape shook his head and moved a stray lock out of Harry’s eyes. “No, it was our usual mating game of words.”
Harry blushed profusely. It was, in a way. For every time he has seen Snape for the last two years, their meetings, chance or not, tended to have a bit of metaphorical walking around each other, probing of the ground, so to say.
“Still, I’m sorry it happened that way.” Harry suppressed the urge to lean into Snape’s hand.
“That way?” Snape kept brushing the same lock over and over even though it stayed in place.
“With us drunk. I didn’t want it to happen like this.” Harry looked briefly into Snape’s eyes, unable to withstand the piercing gaze.
“But you actually wanted it to happen? It wasn’t just a chance accident fueled by too much alcohol?” The amazement in Snape’s voice was hard to miss.
“Yes.” Harry braved another look into Snape’s eyes. He could barely notice it, but Snape’s eyes were widened in shock. “Why else would I practically climb into your lap in the middle of a Muggle bar?”
Now it was Snape’s turn to blush. On his stern face it manifested in two almost-not-there pinkish spots on his cheeks. “Well, that was… remarkable. Definitely something to remember.”
Harry’s face fell a little. “I don’t remember much.”
“Do you want to?” Snape’s fingers slid to Harry’s cheek and then to his jaw, and then back up.
“Yes.”
“Hm.” It was the only answer Harry got, but Snape’s finger continued to caress Harry’s cheek.
Harry lay there in silence, enjoying the innocent caress and the peaceful moment. It wasn’t how he’d hoped it would go, his first night with Snape, and he was even scared to admit, even to himself, that he’d hoped for something like that to happen at all. But he was here now, and he was quite reluctant to leave – the bed, the house, and Snape.
“And what now?” Harry whispered, almost lulled back into sleep by Snape’s finger on his cheek.
“And now you get up, take a shower in the bathroom over there,” Snape pointed somewhere behind Harry’s back with his chin, “get dressed, and then go to the kitchen where I give you a hangover potion and feed you a small breakfast. And then you go on your way to live your live as if nothing has happened, as if you haven’t let your former professor and enemy fuck you, drunk, into oblivion on the New Year’s Eve.”
Severus uttered the phrases in a flat voice, without any intonation or emotion to it. Only the way he ended his short speech, and the expression on his face implied an unspoken ‘or.’
“Or?” Harry supplied helpfully, and hopefully, and caught Snape’s fingers in his palm.
“Or you can sleep some more, it’s still too early to get up on the New Year’s morning. While you sleep I’ll have time to make a bigger breakfast.” Snape’s fingers somehow got entwined with Harry’s. “Then I’ll bring you the hangover potion here and will send you to take your shower. Then we’ll eat breakfast.”
“Naked?” Harry chuckled softly. “You forgot to mention ‘get dressed’.”
“That’s up to you, really, but I prefer not to be distracted while I eat.” Severus deadpanned, but the crinkles around his eyes told Harry his true feelings on the matter.
“And then?”
Severus shrugged as nonchalantly as his position allowed him. “And then we might discuss what would be the perfect time to work on that memory issue of yours.”
Harry blinked in confusion and then grinned happily. “Yeah, we’ll need a lot of time to resolve this problem. My brain is like a sieve.”
Severus snorted. “No wonder, after a bottle of gin you consumed unassisted.”
“Hey! I thought it was half a bottle.” Harry laughed.
“You finished it up later in the evening.”
“Was it before or after I climbed into your lap?” Harry turned their joined hands and kissed Snape’s knuckles.
“Hm, I’m not quite sure. I’m afraid you’d have to re-enact the situation again for me to remember clearly.”
“Just without gin.” Harry untwined their fingers and placed a kiss to Snape’s palm.
“Absolutely no gin.” Snape cupped Harry’s cheek. He seemed unable to keep his hand off Harry’s lovely face. Snape’s fingers resumed their caress. Harry didn’t mind it at all. He could feel Snape’s gaze in his face. After some time Harry felt that he was slipping back to sleep. He forced his eyes open.
“Aren’t you cold?” Harry mumbled. Snape was still lying naked in the slightly chilly room.
“No, I’m fine. Sleep some more.” Snape’s hand moved to Harry’s hair and the man began carding his fingers through Harry’s tangled locks.
But Harry still had something important to say. He fought with the creeping sleep again. “I know you’ve just said we need to discuss the perfect time, but would you mind terribly if I came here again tonight?”
There was a moment of silent caress before Snape’s answered.
“No, I wouldn't mind at all.”
And Harry could swear on his life that the corner of Snape’s mouth twitched in a hint of smile.
Harry smiled back, let his eyes finally close, and fell asleep feeling the weight of Snape’s hand in his hair.