Disclaimer: Don't own.
"Harry Potter-Snape, get back here and make this confounded thing slow down, or stop, or flower lower at least! Potter! Potter!"
Harry Potter-Snape sighed and slowed down so that his husband could catch up. The protests had been going on for a good fifteen minutes, that generally meant that Severus was genuinely upset about something and not just arguing for the sake of it. When Severus caught up, Harry imitated the older wizard's slower pace, and asked, "What's the matter this time?"
The thin mouth, previously set in an angry line, snarled out, "Everything! I have tried this flying thing before, and I didn't like it then either. So let medown."
A pout transformed Harry's lips, "But we're almost there. Please?"
It was always so difficult to resist those sparkling emerald eyes, when they were pleading, and Severus would have buried his head in his hands if he dared move them off the broom. "How much further?"
"We weren't going anywhere, I lied. It was just for fun, I wanted to get you out of the house and up in the air," Harry braced himself for the explosion.
Severus ground his teeth together and forced in a breath through his nose. This lump of wood would not defeat him; he was Severus Snape-Potter. But the lump of wood gave a quiver beneath him. "We're going home, and we're going to go slower and closer to the ground."
Unable to restrain the roll of his eyes, Harry replied, "We're not going any slower than this, it is boring, and we can't go lower to the ground; muggles will see us."
Already the younger wizard had began to accelerate, and Severus called out, "Screw the muggles." He had been teased mercilessly in his youth for his inability to ride a broomstick with any grace, why must his younger, more energetic, more athletic and deliciously more flexible lover torture him so?
Harry shot a teasing glance over his shoulder. "And I thought you wanted an exclusive relationship, hypocrite that you are Severus."
Snarling curses at Harry under his breath, Severus knew that he would not let the younger wizard win. His heart pounding in his chest, Severus leant forwards and allowed the broom to accelerate. The wind stung at his eyes, flies streamed past him, and he despised the way the broom would frequently buck or try to toss him, but he held on with all the determination and perseverance that had been created in him by the wars. Finally, eventually, he drew level with Harry and, trying not to shake, reached out and grasped Harry's broom. "Slow. Down," he ordered, breathing shallowly.
For the first time in his experience, Harry was sure that he was seeing Severus Snape… frightened. Immediately, he slowed to a stopping point, his teasing mood evaporating as he stared uncertainly at his husband. He could not stop the hand that raised to Severus' cheek, but Severus looked away, an angry blush colouring his cheeks.
"I do not need your sympathy Potter." He always slipped into original names when he was angry, "Just need to be on the ground again."
Not gracing that with a reply, Harry merely climbed with practised care onto the back of Severus' broom. He knew that his own broom would follow, and his arms wound around the older wizard's waist, as he leaned forwards to rest his chin on Severus' shoulder. "What are you doing?" demanded Severus, trying to twist but not being able to with the broom handle glued to his hands as it was.
Harry moved so that he could press his lips briefly to the raised scar of Nagini's bite before he replied, "I'm riding with you. I won't let you fall."
Ignoring the way Harry's warm breath against the skin of his neck raised goosepimples along his flesh, Severus bit out, "I did not think for a moment that I would fall. You are just being foolish."
The lie was as transparent as glass, to Harry at least, and he answered, "Of course I am, but you have to admit, riding with two is much better than riding with one." Smoothly, he leaned forwards, pressing his weight against Severus' back so they starting moving again, descending.
The irrational though that he would slip off the broom filled Severus' mind, but he could feel the way Harry's thighs held the wood tightly, the cool confidence radiating off him, and the strong arms around the waist that would never let go. It was ridiculous, but this was the one thing, the one thing that he could not stand. He was so helpless up in the air, all his weight relying on the thin stick beneath him that reason told him could not support him, magic ignoring.
It was awful, but as they slowly moved towards the earth, he was, for the first time in his experience of flying, content to wait for the ground. Rarely was he content to let Harry take charge, let alone take care of him, but in this, Harry was the teacher and he the student. And the way Harry was nibbling on his neck indicated that the destination would be worth the hellish journey.
He was right; soon he was flying high.