Fic: Baby's First Pictures (prelude)

Author: rufus
Title: Baby's First Pictures (prelude)
Rating: PG/PG-13 for mild-to-heavy petting.
Word count: 810
Warnings: references to past mpreg and Snape's post-pregnancy body issues.
A/N: Set after Pleading His Belly and Birthday Presents . Inspired by the porn meme but yet contains no porn whatsoever. Er. Sorry. The writing of this piece of the arc was also spurred on by last Saturday's ship chat, so thank you, ladies!



By the time Athena was settled and Severus was able to leave the nursery, Remus was curled up in a ball under the covers of his (their) bed. Severus closed the door quietly, and moved quickly through the darkened room to the closet to shuck off his robes and put on a nightshirt.

"Witch Weekly sent another owl," Remus murmured, when Severus slid under the covers. He sounded more tired than annoyed, but Severus could feel the tension in his body from the other side of the bed.

"Yes," Severus said as he inched closer and put a hand on Remus' hip, being careful not to exert any pressure. "Miss Greengrass has made a . . . very attractive offer."

There was a pause, and then Remus made a noise halfway between a cough and a sigh that caused something in Severus' stomach clench unpleasantly. He shifted again, moving even closer, and eased his hand down against Remus' belly. He still felt awkward, snuggling, but it seemed to make Remus happy, and so he did his best.

"I haven't accepted," he murmured, sliding his hand up Remus' chest and then down again. "After . . . careful review of my options, I found I preferred Miss Lovegood's terms. Though I am given to understand we will be expected to tolerate an infestation of Creeveys." Remus laughed, at that, and Severus kissed the nape of his neck out of sheer relief.

"Has she set a date for the interview?" Remus asked, uncurling his limbs and rolling over onto his back. Severus hunched forward while Remus moved an arm behind his back, then slid his fingers under Remus' pyjama top and scratched his stomach thoughtfully, somewhat distracted by the soft flesh and wiry hair beneath his fingers.

"Her note said something about . . . Thursday, I think," he said, as Remus started tracing slow circles over his ribs with his fingertips. The note – small packet, really – had also contained an extensive list of instructions regarding the proper placement of furniture, the best colours to wear for the camera and a short list of extremely impertinent questions he would be expected to answer. He had seriously considered chucking the whole thing into the nursery grate, but the prospect of being chased by photographers (or worse, returned to Azkaban for doing one of them an injury) had stayed his hand.

"Thursday as in tomorrow?" Remus asked, his hand going still for a moment. Severus made a noise of agreement and shifted his hand into the unexplored territory of Remus' side. He was tracing the outlines of something that felt quite like a claw mark (Greyback?) when Remus sighed in a way that sounded like laughter, and shifted so that he was on his side and Severus was forced to abandon his explorations and lie flat on his back. An irritated noise escaped him before he could stop it, and Remus nuzzled his shoulder apologetically.

"I'll put her in the green dress, I think, from Minerva," Severus said, and then Remus settled a hand on his stomach and began move it in slow circles. Severus curled his fingers into the coverlet and willed himself to be still. Poppy had promised him his body would someday return to normal – or as normal as he could ever be – but no matter what exercises he did or lotions he applied, his belly remained flabby and raddled with stretch marks. He avoided looking at it, even in the bath.

"She can lie on the blanket Arthur brought by today," Remus murmured to his shoulder, expanding the radius of the circles to include Severus' chest and lower belly. Severus hmmed at him (the bloody thing was bright orange, for Merlin's sake) and was quiet for a while, his mind drifting between the problem of tarting up the ancient sofa in the parlour, the recent (and puzzling) influx of Weasley visitors, and the vaguely tingly warmth spreading through his limbs.

"We'll have to put Uncle Hadrian's Hand of Glory and Great-Grandmother Olympia's troll skulls in the shed first thing in the morning," Remus said around a yawn, and slid his hand down so that it rested on top of Severus' groin. Severus snorted at him and let it lie there for a while, idly cataloging the experience (somewhat unusual, not actively painful), then pulled it back up into safer territory on his chest. He heard Remus' breath hitch in his ear and turned his face towards him, rubbing their noses together and kissing him a little, to let him know it was all right.

Remus made a contented noise and kissed him back for a bit, and then pulled away and settled down to sleep, curled up with his head on Severus' chest. Severus slid his fingers along the curve of Remus' neck and scratched gently until he fell asleep.