Coupling: HP/SS slashy goodness
Disclaimer: Potter and Snape belong to JKR, but Harry and Sev belong to my heart...
A/N: Wow, it has been way too long since I've dwelled in the HP fic world. I didn't realize how much I missed reading and writing in this category. With my newfound enthusiasm, I started another fic! Go me! Dunno where it's going yet, but that's ok. Anyway, here's the first chap. Read on and enjoy!
Chapter 1: Stranger
"I don't believe this. I don't bloody believe this." Harry Potter muttered to himself in irritation. He was trudging along slowly, kicking at stray pebbles illuminated by the fluorescent street lamps. Of all the inconveniences...
He had finally been granted a week's vacation. Finally. His job was nice, sure, but he needed a break. From life, from the wizarding world, from everything. So when a fellow university buddy invited him to spend the week in Glasgow with him, Harry all but jumped at the opportunity. Two days into the trip, and he was already feeling more relaxed. At least, he was until about twenty minutes ago.
Let's go to a club, he said. There was wild dancing, wild women (men for Harry), and the all-around favorite, alcohol. Never one to pass up a night out, Harry readily agreed. He hadn't planned on his buddy deciding to ditch him for some half-naked, table-dancing floozy, effectively stranding Harry with no ride home. When he asked the bartender to call a cab, he was laughed at and informed that no self-respecting cabbie would enter that part of the city.
Which was how Harry found himself walking down the narrow cobbled walkway, cursing as the heavy mist turned into a steady drizzle. The only good fortune that had manifested was the fact that his friend's flat wasn't too far a distance. Of course, had the floozy been a witch instead of a muggle, Harry could have just apparated back. With no alcohol in him, he was fully capable of doing so. But he wasn't about to risk exposure, even if the floozy was beyond sloshed. Harry had firsthand knowledge on how much a drunk individual could remember once the initial buzz wore off.
Yes, his vacation was definitely looking up, he thought sarcastically. He hoped the rest of his nights would only end up like this.
His thoughts were drowned out by a low growl. Stopping, Harry turned around and saw a faint light off in the distance, growing steadily larger as the noise and the object emitting it approached. When it was close enough, Harry could make out the shape of a motorcycle. As it zipped past him, a brief gust of air washed over him and reminded him that yes, it was pretty cool outside, and yes, the drizzle had increased to a slow rain.
Eyes cast downward to haphazardly shield them from the rain, Harry paid no more attention to the motorcycle or the loud rumbling noise and began walking again.
Until the motorcycle pulled up beside him, that was. Halting his steps, Harry stared quizzically at the bike's owner, unsure of what to do.
"Want a ride?" a scratchy voice asked from beneath a sleek black helmet.
A ride? The question was completely unexpected. Harry had been approached by strange men--and he knew this was a man--before, but for whatever reason, he felt this bizarre sense of familiarity wash over him. He just chalked it up to getting sentimental over his own bike-riding days on Sirius's old motorcycle.
Did he really want to accept a ride, though, from this man?
Oh, what the hell. If it turned out to be a problem, Harry could always hex and Obliviate him. Not something he did on a daily basis, but he'd have to do what he'd have to do.
"Sure, " Harry answered slowly, taking the proffered extra helmet from the man. It fit quite snugly over his head; must have been intended for a woman.
The man gestured for him to climb on the bike. Throwing one leg over the seat, Harry straddled the machine and relished the feel of the hard metal between his legs. It had been a while. Too long, even. He was interrupted from his reverie when the man said, "Hold on tight. I go fast."
Obediently wrapping his arms around the man's waist, Harry was thrown backward as they took off like a Snitch. Increasing the strength of his grip, Harry leaned into the stranger's back more fully and closed his eyes as a million and one familiar sensations washed over him.
Harry loved riding on the bike that had once belonged to Sirius. He would spend hours and hours just riding, with no destination in mind. On some occasions, he would ride because it made him feel like Sirius was there with him. On other occasions, the rides simply helped him to forget his problems. Either way, he liked to ride hard and fast, which explained the multiple concussions he had received. That was pretty much the reason he stopped riding. One could only get concussed so many times before reaching the conclusion that those activities causing said injuries were probably not very smart. Harry knew he always could have just driven more cautiously, more slowly, but where was the fun in that?
A sharp turn threw Harry into the man's shoulder, effectively snapping him from his thoughts with a hard jolt. Instinctively leaning with the man's body to accommodate the turn, Harry allowed himself to relax and enjoy the ride. He had missed this; the wind slicing over him, the faint smell of worn leather that emanated from the man's jacket... Of course, he was used to riding solo. But he wasn't about to complain about having to cling tightly to a well-toned man. The man drove fast, yes, but in a more cautious way. He handled the bike with a skill that only someone with years of experience could pull off. Harry found this both impressive and sexy.
He was so off in his own world that it barely registered with him when they slowed down and eventually stopped. In all of the exhilaration, he completely failed to notice that he did not give his friend's address to this man, and that they were now pulled up in front of a tiny, three-floor flat. "Umm..."
"My place," the man said by way of explanation, turning off the engine and climbing off the bike, his back turned to Harry still.
"I didn't... I mean..." Harry took off the helmet and unstraddled the bike, unsure of his next actions. Had he given this man the impression that he was up for more than a simple ride home? He didn't think he had...
"We'll wait out the storm," was the reply.
Harry noticed for the first time that the rain had picked up, and that driving much longer in such weather would have indeed led to unneeded recklessness.
"Besides," the man continued, "this will give us a chance to catch up." Taking off his helmet and allowing a mass of shoulder-length black hair to fall free, he slowly turned around, obsidian eyes locking onto Harry's emerald orbs.
Breaths lodging in his throat, Harry gasped, "Severus Snape."
Short and to the point, I know. The next chapter should be longer. Should be. I make no promises because RL for me is quite hectic at the moment, but I'll export my best effort. Anyway, please review! I do so thrive on your wonderful reviews. Besides, I could use a little reassurance to make sure I haven't gotten rusty in this category after all those months. So yeah... uhhh... Thanks for reading! Peace out!