Disclaimer : I don't own Harry Potter.
Thanks to melkkj20, HollyEmpire00, Aesterisk, Lizzie's last night, Anon, Guest, delatrix, DHeiress88, GothicDebby, Evi15, fitha, A Single Fragile Rose, DawnScarlet19610, kshadow, thegirlwholovesdrarry, Brookie cookie17, fanficCraze, SweetScarlett97, Ricano, olciak123, sun, rose, Chi Takashi, krm3DeeDee, dollop, Falling up Wonder Struck, PedoiseTrancy, Dizashe, Artemis, dracowillbeloved, Guest, and Perfidious for all those lovely reviews. I'm so sorry that I couldn't find time to reply it but hey, you guys are the best. :D
"I love you."
Harry's eyes widened, his hands froze as they were about to run themselves over Tom's black hair. The words echoed in his surroundings and it took a second too long for Harry to interpret it. He didn't realize it but he gasped when those words escaped the man, who has just fallen asleep with his body across Harry's leather couch and Harry on top of him.
And if anyone ever asked him, what would he do if Tom was still sober after his drunken confession, waiting for a reply or something, or anything from Harry, Harry might've said he loves him too.
The next day, Tom woke up with a large hangover and Harry only smiled, leaving him a glass of water and pills to alleviate his pain.
"Something's wrong?" Cedric quietly asked him, his arm firm around Harry's shoulders as they sat down together on Cedric's couch, the television in front of them showing the latest action movie his lover had picked. Harry nodded stiffly, blinked his eyes when he realized he had been staring into space for more than a few minutes. Then he shook his head slightly and tried to smile.
"I think I might have been asleep with my eyes opened." He tried to crack a joke, hoping that his miserable voice didn't give him away.
He could feel the vibration of Cedric's laughter in his chest and Harry let out a small smile, looking up at the blond lawyer. The arm around him tightened, causing Harry to lean more towards the older man.
"That bored, huh? I told you that you should pick the movie, not me." Cedric grinned before nuzzling his nose on top of Harry's black messy hair. Harry buried his face against Cedric's chest, but his mind keeps replaying the scene at the party.
He didn't think that Tom would disappear before his eyes in that span of a minute, where he turned to greet Cedric. He had wanted to speak to Tom, since it was awkward between them after the last time they met in Harry's apartment. Granted, he didn't know what happened – perhaps Harry didn't want to know – but Tom was a good acquaintance. It wasn't meant to end up with both of them dancing around each other, untouched but craving for something more.
But Harry still couldn't stop the thought that maybe, maybe this is it.
This is it; for them.
Maybe, it is better like this.
Harry James Potter met Tom Marvolo Riddle in an afterparty for one of his best fashion shows. He was modeling for a up and rising fashion company, and when he was on the stage, there, on the left side of the audience, sitting at the row of VIPS, was one attractive man. He was staring at Harry, blue eyes secretive like he knows something that Harry doesn't. Harry almost got distracted by it, but he kept his posture fixed and graceful, turning away from the man with a small grin of his own.
People would say it was cliché but Tom shined like no other. With his infamous smirk on his face, his body posture showing his arrogance and highlighting his high status, Harry couldn't keep his eyes off him at the party after the show.
Harry was well known for his one night stands, something that Harry wasn't really proud of. He wanted a relationship but there was no one who could keep up with his crazy working hours, his failure to turn up for important days and his tendency to fall into bed with popular and rich people. The latter, was something that he couldn't control. He always had this one faith that if he wanted someone so much, he wouldn't look for another. And Harry also believed in true love, he believed that he deserves to cut off relationships in the early stages if he knew there was nothing for him and his partner in the future.
But, Tom… Tom was something. Tom was something else. Tom was that man who keeps up with him with his crazy hours, his flirting habit, and his bad, bad behaviours. Tom was that man, who just keeps coming back and makes out with him behind his performing stage. Tom was that man who keeps him grounded and sane, making sure he wouldn't lose his ground but wouldn't ruin his career.
Tom was the man, who kissed him on his forehead, with his blue eyes half lidded; staring at Harry with such passion that Harry thought Harry might be his world.
Nobody does what Tom does to him.
And Harry, on that one night, with warm tears welling in his eyes and his hands trembling while clutching on Tom's black scarf – which smells just like Tom, like his expensive Clive Christian's perfume, like rain… like love – decided that whatever is between them now, it can't go on.
Not like this.
Not anymore.
"Ahh! Ahh!" Harry tried to pull away from the harsh grip Tom had on his hips, his own hands grasping the bed cover tightly while Tom kept pounding into him. Harry tried to hide his face in the pillow, his mind dazed with lust and he couldn't get away from Tom, no matter how hard he tried; he wouldn't.
"Damn it, Harry, are you just like this with everyone else who fucked you? Submissive? Like a slut?" Another harsh thrust sent Harry forwards screaming, his voice stifled by the pillow and he felt Tom sucking a pulse point on his nape. Harry wanted to cry at one point, weighted down by his hunger for Tom and how his hand reached out to grip Tom's on his hip, tightly as if to tell him 'Don't leave'.
'Don't ever leave.'
Harry wanted to cry, to give himself release, to do anything, everything, to run away from Tom when he felt something dripping on his neck that was definitely not sweat, drops that Harry told himself he only imagined. But this thing between them was killing him, this sex, this unwarranted desire and Harry wasn't ready to face the truth.
He felt Tom's steady thrusts starting to stutter and Tom bit him on his shoulder, his cock pumping into Harry faster but on an unsteady pace, causing Harry to gasp at every pound into his hole. With a shout, both of them came at the same time and promptly collapsed; Harry onto the wet puddle on the sheet and Tom on top of him.
Harry closed his eyes, his breathing uneven and he felt Tom moved his hands to wrap them around his waist from behind, before slowly pulling Harry up to lie on his side with Tom spooning him. A lazy smile appeared on Harry's face without him realizing it. He carefully held Tom's clasped hands on his stomach with his own, brought one of Tom's hands to his lips and kissed it. He could feel Tom stiffening behind him but Harry tried to ignore it as he slowly relaxed his back against Tom's broad chest.
Harry has always been a tad shorter than normal men. His body small, petite, lithe but there were compact muscles visible to those who has seen him naked. But when he lies down with Tom beside him, Tom easily towered over him, blatantly overpowering him. It didn't seem to bother Harry like how it does when Cedric did it.
Harry unconsciously tightened his grip on Tom's hands, snuggling deeper into Tom's arms at the same time. He felt Tom press a gentle, almost chaste kiss on his naked shoulder and Harry tried his best to control the shivers from it to show.
It shouldn't feel like this. Shouldn't feel like how Harry had hoped Tom would treat him and want him. Cedric was there for Harry now, willing to stay no matter how much Harry insisted that he didn't want him, didn't need him.
It ached in every place now, how the blond had been perfect before, when Harry thought Tom didn't want him. And how Cedric is all false and wrong, when Harry thought Tom might want him now.
"Something's wrong?" Tom murmured in his ear. Harry shook his head slowly and then paused for one surprised second, his eyes turning wide open at the question. Harry then quickly pushed away from Tom and his warm arms, trying to get as far as he could from him. It appeared to startle the older man because he quickly sat down when Harry tensely collected his scattered clothes hurriedly from Tom's bedroom floor.
"Harry?" Tom called him, face confused but agitated at the same time. Harry ignored him in order to pull on his jeans but the older man couldn't take the treatment. He was up and close into Harry's personal space, all naked in his glory and his blue eyes sharp, almost menacing.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he hissed, his hands stiff on his sides and if Harry didn't know better, he'd thought Tom was going to grab or hurt him.
No.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Harry shot back, looking up although his sight was quite blurred by his lack of glasses or contact lenses. He heard a sharp intake of breath by Tom and then the older man stepped closer to him, towering over him in the way that Harry had always, frighteningly, loved.
Harry stood his ground, waiting for any unleashing of anger or shouts or orders for him to leave, to get out. The silence was heavy in the air, making the younger man sweat but inwardly he trembled, but he wasn't prepared for when Tom's eyes softened – it was barely seen, but Harry had known Tom enough after years being in his bed, being with him, to miss the sad, fragile look that Tom laid upon him even only for one second – and his voice almost broke something hard.
Harry thought it might have broken his heart.
"I need you."
Harry wanted to cry.
"… No, you don't."
A slam to the door was all Harry could give Tom as he left as fast as his legs could carry him.
Harry had loved Tom ever since the first time he saw him.
And the first time Tom touched him, Harry was out of breath and Harry didn't know when he was going to breathe again.
Harry blamed it all on his attractiveness, his ability to control himself and use all his powers to its fullest capacity. Harry was a rising star in the modelling industry, he is not what you call a billionaire but he was close enough, he graduated from university, has good social relationships and connections by his parents and his friends in said university but never had he meet someone like Tom.
But it was disturbing, knowing that Tom saw him as something not more than that.
"Harry, I have to tell you something." Harry abruptly stopped his breakfast preparations, but then quickly turned off the stove and placed the newly made pancakes on his plate. Cedric's was already stacked on top of the kitchen bar, next to a bottle of syrup and chocolate sauce. Cedric was wearing his yoga pants, a smile on his face and his hair looked exactly like he was, rolled out from the bed; messy, adorable.
"What is it?" Harry smiled, wiping his hands on his – Cedric's – apron. The young lawyer slowly approached him and pecked him on his lips.
"You might want to sit down first."
Harry met Cedric Diggory one night when he was at the bar. He had been working nonstop since last week, trying to find time here and there for his personal life that didn't really exist while running around to get a rise in his career. He got many jobs offered to him; some of them even sent him out from London for shooting sessions. Harry loved travelling, it made him feels small and that he still got a lot more to chase after. It feels like a challenge.
Harry sat alone in the bar, finally having a day off to calm down his chaotic world. He tried calling for Tom but Tom had answered, only to tell that he was away for an important meeting in Dubai. Harry might have sulked and refused to get hooked up with his other acquaintances.
He wanted to just finish his drink off and then head back to his apartment for bed. But then he realized someone was staring at him from across the bar, blinking a pair of brown eyes at him as Harry stared back. It was a funny, staring competition that first caused Harry to frown but later, laughed when Cedric surrendered to defeat by a wink of his eye instead of a blink.
Harry didn't know Cedric's first name by the time he left the bar, only his last one. He only learned that Cedric is a young man looking for adventure, his phone number that Cedric put himself into Harry's cellphone and a silver ring Cedric had purposely slipped onto his finger when a man who Harry had slept once with suddenly appeared and tried to hit it on with him again.
Cedric had called him Mr. Harry Diggory while wrapping an arm around his waist and gave an exaggerated kiss on his cheek.
Harry had laughed nonstop after the man left with a pale face.
By the end of the night, Harry left the bar with no one to warm his bed.
Cedric was different, definitely leagues away from Tom if Harry was to describe and differentiate them.
In which Cedric was playful, Tom was serious. Cedric was friendly, Tom was possessive. Cedric was all smiles and curiosity while Tom was all smirks and know-it-all. Cedric was warmth, Cedric was gentle touches, and Tom was all lust and passion and flames and love.
Cedric was not Tom.
And Tom was all Harry ever wanted.
Harry tightened his grip on his car steering, trying to gather all courage he has and he believed that he was failing very badly. He needed to do this, needed to face the reality that he couldn't grasp no matter how hard he tried. Maybe if he survived this, then he'll be able to not look back.
He left his black convertible outside of the large mansion's front yard, chuckling softly at the thought of how a rich bachelor like Tom prefers to keep and live in his family mansion rather than living in a modern house instead.
The butler who greeted him smiled at him, already knowing Harry as one of Tom's important guests because of his tendency to sleep over. Harry started to feel the nervousness seep back into his nerves. He only fisted his hands and slowly made his way into where he knew Tom would be.
His study.
(Tom had once told him when they just finished with their rounds of hot, passionate sex, that Harry was the only person he ever allows to enter his study and would not be shouted at. Harry thought of telling Tom that Tom was the only man he ever allows to have unprotected sex with him.
Harry didn't.)
He carefully opened the large, mahogany door to the room but then he was surprised to see Tom already standing there, as if he had been waiting for Harry to make his appearance.
The first one since he had last left Tom with anger and frustration and misery.
The first one since a fortnight ago.
Both of them stood still, trying to figure out how to response to the suddenly awkward situation and for Harry, how to start breaking the news of why he was there. Tom then gave a stiff nod, opening the door larger for Harry to enter. Harry gave a small smile, slowly entering and then followed Tom to the bar where he kept most of his favourite alcoholic drinks.
But Harry refused to sit, only continued to stand even though Tom had taken out a bottle of scotch and two glasses for them. He tried to look at the older man, to not flinch away at how Tom looked at him now, with no expression on his face and his eyes void of any emotions.
"Tom-"
"Why are you here, Harry?" Tom cut him smoothly, but his voice lacks his usual firmness, as if he had given up trying to figure out them. Harry tried to ignore the ache that suddenly throbbed inside of him. He instead tilted his head slightly to the side and looked away.
"I'm moving to New York."
Tom's eyes widened, his grip on the glasses loosened and Harry was relieved that they were already on top of the counter, if not, they would fall and shatter.
Harry just wasn't sure they'll shatter like whose heart; Tom's or his.
The older man didn't say anything for a few minutes, he looked blank and Harry wondered if he had heard him clearly or that Harry needed to repeat it. Actually Harry couldn't really understand why he was here to tell Tom about him moving away but he felt like he owed Tom something. Because Harry wouldn't have the chance to experience all those beautiful things he had with Tom if he didn't meet him before, no matter how things are ending between them now.
When the silence seemed to drag along, Harry just wanted to turn and leave, maybe toss in a good 'farewell' too-
"Why?" Tom voiced out suddenly and Harry was struck with how harsh his voice sounded, like something had been taken away from him and he couldn't do anything to stop it. But Harry didn't want to dwell on it for too long.
Because dwelling on it would drag him further into their unstable, unhealthy, unbecoming relationship.
"Cedric got a promotion. He is transferred to New York and he asked me to move out together with him." Harry stated, trying his best to make it sound casual but when Tom's eyes narrowed, it seemed that he failed, perhaps quite horribly.
"Cedric, the boyfriend?" Tom taunted, stepping forward, away from the bar and closer to Harry. Harry could smell him better when he was closer and now all Harry wanted was to fall into him, to wrap his arms around Tom's taller build and pressing his face against his shoulder, like how he used to do. But Tom had another idea, as he grabbed onto Harry's wrist.
"What? Now you're trying to be a good little husband for your new toy and leave your dark, dirty past?" a smirk appeared on his face as his vicious grip tightened.
'Leave me' was left unheard but Harry saw it clear in his masked, pained eyes. Harry hissed back at him, pulling his hand back and pushed on Tom's chest to get away from him.
"I don't know, maybe I do!" Harry shot back, suddenly getting defensive and angry. He refused to let this get him down, it was enough that they had been playing each other ever since they met, Harry didn't need this, didn't need this when he was about to move – damn it – on.
"Harry, stop with all these nonsense. You want me, you want this. Stop lying to yourself-"
"I'm not lying to myself, you're the one that have been playing with people's feelings like they are your bloody toys! You are the only one who have been lying to yourself your whole life."
"And now you're acting like you know me very well, do you? What is it that's not enough? Was it the money? The popularity? The sex?"
"Tom, you're all over your head. Some people just need something new, some people just want to leave all those things that have been hurting them, some people don't need all these dramas-"
"Harry-"
"And some people just want to stop loving someone who plays with their feelings like he bloody owns them and move on-"
"Why can't you just accept the fact that I love you, damn it?!"
Harry's green eyes were wide with unshed tears and Tom was so close again, their noses almost touching and Harry wanted so much to hurt something, to hurt someone.
"No, Tom… You don't get to do this to me anymore." Harry softly whispered, looking down as the older man's expression changed into something heart wrenching.
"I want you, you know… Ever since I knew you. I knew you couldn't do it, that you can want me, love me like how I want it to be with you. If you can't give me that, Tom, please… please just let me have someone who will. I need you… to make me let you go." Harry continued, his voice finally broke at the end of his sentence and Tom let out a painful, raw whimper.
Harry didn't want this. Harry wanted Tom. Harry wanted to stop being stubborn and just accept whatever that Tom was willing to give him. He said he loved him, that must be something, isn't it? But why hurt himself for Tom who couldn't even see Harry in his entirety, when Cedric was there trying and failing but still kept on trying?
Tom raised a hand, tried to pull Harry closer to him but Harry grabbed his hand gently before it even managed to touch his body. The act was cruel, devastating, when all Tom was doing screamed 'don't leave' and Harry wanted to stay but Tom wouldn't let go of his ego, wouldn't look at Harry like how he honestly felt, and this game was cruel.
Harry slowly lowered down his hand but clasped Tom's in both of his hands, their hands trembled and there was silence – but silence was never enough when it comes to Tom Marvolo Riddle and Harry James Potter – and Harry couldn't stop himself from tiptoeing up and pressing a kiss on Tom's right temple; painfully, gently, lovingly.
"I love you too, you know… But you can't do this to yourself anymore, Tom. You need to be in love… not just to love." He whispered softly and Tom turned to lay their foreheads together; his eyes closed tight.
At the end of silence between them, Harry wasn't sure who left first and who stayed last.
But it was clear that nobody was left unhurt.
The day Harry was at the airport with Cedric, sitting in the waiting lounge room for their flight to New York, Harry was all fidgety and nervous. His cellphone was switched off in his bag, his hands trembling as they played with the hem of his cotton sweater. He couldn't stop looking back at the entrance and only managed to smile reluctantly when Cedric raised a questioning eyebrow at him.
"Something's wrong?"
"I'm sorry, I don't think I can do this. I… Harry, I don't believe in feelings. I don't even think I believe in love."
"No… No, everything is fine, Cedric, everything… everything is all fine."
Hi, this is Harry James Potter. I'm currently unable to take your call. Please leave your name, phone number, and a brief message, and I will contact you as soon as possible. Thanks.
"Mr. Potter, we're from Royal London Hospital. We are calling you on Mr. Tom Marvolo Riddle's quickdial as we're unable to reach his emergency contacts. Can you please come to the hospital as soon as possible? Mr. Riddle was involved in an accident and we need someone to come up for him as soon as possible. Thank you."
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END.
A/N : The third installment is coming up, not soon but it will. :D Thank you for reading this.
Review please.
