Disclaimer; If I owned anything, I wouldn't be here.
Warnings; SLASH, AU.
A/N; Orite, I've changed the rating. Just incase. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! ^^
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The heated kiss ended much too fast and too soon for Tom. Before he knew it, Harry had pulled away and was making distance between him and Tom. He had a smirk on his face, eyes twinkling under the lamp lights.
"Well," Harry had a thoughtful face. "That's was fun, I suppose."
Suppose? Suppose? No, that was simply unacceptable. Kissing Tom Riddle had no 'supposes'.They were always, definitely, without a doubt, fun.
And many other things that aren't PG.
"Don't act like you didn't want it," Tom purred, suddenly lustful again.
"Oh, I did," Harry said, hands behind his back, innocently.
That's more like it, Tom thought. "Just not anymore," He grinned before dashing off.
No bloody way.
Tom allowed himself no time to think as he dashed for Harry.
Tom chased after him, long legs giving him an advantage. But Harry was smaller and had knack for ducking and twisting. That was irritating. Their moving shadows danced across the brick walls, fast and swift.
Wind brushed against Tom's face, and he could feel his heart pumping. Blood rushed in his ears but he was determined not to fall behind. To motivate himself, he kept his eyes fixed on that delicious bottom he'd soon get a re-taste of when this childishness ended.
For the meantime though, he decided he'd humor the little minx. After all, he was sure he'd want seconds. And he'd make it absolutely impossible for Harry to get enough of him.
A brilliant plan, if he did say so himself.
The green eyed man made a sudden turn, snapping the older man from his thoughts, his body disappearing behind a wall, and Tom sped up.
They had gone deeper into the alleys and quite a bit out of the way from the night club. It was eerily quiet, unusual for the big city that never seemed to bloody sleep. Rubbish littered the ground and the walls were vandalized. Above him, flats were silent and lights switched off.
Tom made the same turn as Harry and paused when he could no longer see the younger man. In front of him was a bloody maze. There were turns everywhere, left and right and left to the right and right to the left.
He wondered which way Harry would have gone, but found no clues.
He looked into each alleyway, hoping to catch a glimpse of a moving body. He found none.
He wouldn't give up though, and taking a deep breath, Tom chose the closest turn. He walked silently, not wanting his footsteps to alert Harry as to where he was. He wanted to surprise the man.
To make sure he wouldn't get lost and be able to find his way back again, Tom scratched a T onto the walls every few meter's with the pocket knife he was never without. It was simple and sharp and he was glad he finally found a use for it.
A soft footstep made him pause.
He'd already gone deep into the alley, it's walls high and menacing. It was dirty and dusty and Tom wanted to sanitize himself, but thought it better to do so later, when he was sure to stay clean.
The footsteps came closer, and Tom tensed. If it was mugger he'd shove the arsehole against the wall and gut him but if it was Harry, he'd push him up the wall for entirely different reasons. . .
"You shouldn't be daydreaming, who knows what could happen?" Tom felt a shiver rake through his body. The voice breathed into his ear, and a warm body pressed against his back, hands on his shoulder for leverage.
Tom spun around, gripped the thin wrist and pulled that very body close.
"Maybe I want things to happen?"
Harry smiled happily, almost giddy. What a complete change, Tom mused. First cold and indifferent, then cute and cuddly, now, he was like a bubbly cheerleader.
What is wrong with this boy?
But when Harry pushed his hips closer to Toms, barely a hair width apart yet too far for Tom, the older man decided he didn't mind so much anymore.
"To~m, let's go back to your home!" Harry bounced on his toes, face cracked open by the blinding grin on his face.
"Uh—," Tom was speechless. Was he a bipolar lunatic?
"Tom! Tom! Tom!" Yeah, definitely.
"What're you doing here anyway? It's dirty~!" What? He was the one who ran into the bloody alley maze.
Eventually though, Tom's libido got the better of him. He wanted to get laid. And he would get laid. Tonight.
He let Harry pull him out of the alley, following the T's he had geniusly thought of. They made far too much noise, well Harry did, but Tom was with him, while they walked. Tom was tempted to just take the boy where he stood but he still had his sense of class even if he sometimes acted otherwise.
So he followed obediently, something he was sure he'd have never done a couple of hours ago.
When they could finally breathe fresh, clean air, Tom tugged Harry back against his chest. "My car's parked up ahead," his voice caressed Harry's ears, seductive and low.
Harry turned in his arms, looping his own slim ones around Tom's neck.
"Let's."
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They ended up taking a cab back to Tom's apartment, unable to concentrate on thinking with a tongues down each other's throat, much less drive.
The cab driver looked interested, curious and disgusted. How someone could do that was a mystery to Tom but the thought didn't go any further when Harry did thing with his tongue and oh.
They stumbled out of the cab, still connected at the lips and Tom shoved a few hundred dollar bills into a very pleased cab driver's hand. The man looked at the green notes with something akin to awe, like he'd just discovered the means of curing cancer.
Greedy man.
They stepped into the elevator, the sound of screeching tyre's distant to their ears. Tom curled possessively arms around Harry's slimmer body and hands went straight to groping the delicious arse that he just couldn't get enough of.
Harry moaned into his mouth, eyes closed in pleasure.
They heard the ding of the elevator and stumbled into the hall. Their heavy breathing filled the empty hallways, as they separated for what seemed to feel like hours so that Tom could fumble with the locks.
Their eyes were heavy lidded and filled with uncontrollable lust. The door clicked open and they wasted no more time. Harry was shoved against wall and Tom kicked the doors shut with his foot. The door slammed and they'd probably get plenty of complaints from Tom's neighbors but neither paid it any mind.
Harry's lips were attacked viciously as Tom gripped his hips to pull him closer. Harry groaned in both pleasure and pain. The two intertwined men didn't bother to on the lights as they made their way into the bed room.
For the rest of the night, only the sounds of skin slapping skin and loud moans accompanied by animalistic growls could be heard.
Next door, an old man died of a heart attack.
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Tom stretched lazily, muscles popping. He blinked slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the intruding light. A quick glance to the digital clock on the table determined that it was already twelve in the afternoon.
His head spun and feeling like he was forgetting something he reached out his hand to the empty spot on his left. It was cold. Why was it cold?
Harry. Harry!
Tom shot up, features twisting in anger. He left. That bloody cocksucker left.
He flung the covers off his nude form and bent to quickly pull his clothes on. He went commando for the moment and stalked out of his room, intent on inspecting every inch of his apartment for the green eyed man.
He looked everywhere for a note, scribble, piece of clothing, anything at all but came out with nothing.
He slumped onto the couch. Leaning his head back, Tom stared passively onto the spinning fan hanging from the ceiling.
What was he getting so worked up for anyway? He hadn't bothered with past lovers, he hadn't spared them a glance after the night was over.
Then again, he was always the one to kick them out. They never left of their own accord. So this was a change. Definitely not a welcome one, but a change nonetheless.
He closed his eyes, already imagining the way Harry looked only a few hours ago. The sounds he made were music to his ears. It felt so right, the way they melded together, the way Harry fisted his hair at the very. . .
Damn. Now he had a boner.
Harry was a gem, Tom concluded. And it was obvious that Harry didn't think very highly of him.
Well he'd change that.
As soon as he tracked down his minx and made long, strenuous, pleasurable. . .
Boner.
Double damn. Think Dumbledore. Dumbledore in a bikini. Dumbledore and McGonagall in a bikini. Bright pink flowery bikini's.
Tom sighed. Problem solved. Unfortunately, the image burned into his retina.
Crap, now he was going to get nightmares.
Alright, Harry. Think Harry in a bikini.
Back to square one. Tom groaned as he got off the couch. He made his way to the bathroom, ready to get rid of a certain problem.
Half an hour later, a refreshed Tom Riddle stepped out of the bathroom. He was properly dressed; black slacks, formal white shirt underneath a form fitting blazer and shiny shoes and also cleaned of any evidence pointing to his nightly activities.
He picked up a suitcase from his room, giving the place a sweep of his eyes. It was a mess, everything was thrown about, pillows and blankets and clothes and even a table was overturned (how'd that happen?). He made a mental note to call Dobby to tidy up, his servant was always pleased to please and Tom thought he had much too much free time on his wrinkled hands.
He didn't know if he was in either a bad mood or good one. He was displeased and more than a little offended that Harry had left without leaving even a thanks for what would have been his most glorious night or a phone number to contact . . . to keep those glorious nights coming.
The other part of him, the part that thrived on thrills and adventure was over the moon at finally meeting someone worthy of even a glimmer of his attention. Harry was unlike any other. Tom wanted that. He wanted to control and posses that. The thought of Harry warming another's bed was infuriating.
Tom managed to convince himself that he was not pining. He just wanted a little oomph to his life. He hadn't had such luck for years and now, out of the blue, a messy haired, delectable and at the same time infuriating (only because he managed to ruffle all of Tom's feathers) man came swaggering into his sight. He wouldn't let that go. Not just yet. Not until he'd gotten his fill.
Harry brought with him seduction and mystery. Tom wanted to know him inside out. He wanted to know every crease and crevice. He wanted to know every mask and feeling Harry was capable of.
He intrigued Tom. Also with his bipolar attitude . . . Tom was sure not a day would be boring with the younger man.
Tom shook his head, too much thinking.
He closed his apartment door, making sure to double lock it. He stepped into the elevator, completely ignoring the white haired man in a stretcher beside him.
"Want a smoke?"
Tom sneered at the paramedic, eyes narrowing. The man held his hands up in mock surrender, forgetting that he was suppose to be holding on to one side of a stretcher.
Tom calmly exited the elevator, ears deaf to the noises behind him.
"Earl! You don't drop a dead man!"
"I forgot! Honest!"
He strode to his parking spot, only to find it completely void of his very expensive, very precious Ferrari. His mind went temporarily blank, on the bridge of a mental breakdown before he remembered that he'd left it at the club in the midst of a heavy make out session.
He sighed tiredly. Looks like he'd have to take the tube.
How he hated the tube. Dirty and unclean. . . and dirty.
He walked briskly out of the parking lot, and onto the street. It was already bustling with people. They were on their phones, blackberries, portable laptops (yes, while walking. 'cause it's New York and New York's cool like that). He went with the flow.
Pulling out his phone, he made a quick call to his secretary, telling her to fetch his car for him. She complained, saying that it wasn't her job to look after such things but he shut her up quick.
Who was the one paying her? Him. So she did as she was told, however reluctantly.
He had a feeling that she would end up calling someone to call someone else to pick it up but he couldn't care less. As long as it was picked up, he was happy. Well, as happy as he could be.
He only had to walk a couple of minutes before reaching the closest tube station. He avoided touching anything and anything as he got on the tube. It was packed and he couldn't shift away from the brushing shoulders. A rather bold woman placed her manicured hand on his chest but a quick glare from him made the offending hand shrink away.
He spared her no other glance as he exited, the tube having already reached his destination.
As quick as he could, Tom hurried out, not wanting to spend another moment in there.
A tall building on the other side of the road towered overhead. It was almost menacing, all grey and black. In large gold letter's, it spelled 'D.E Corporation'.
Tom crossed the road, ignoring the chatters around him. He walked though the automatic glass doors almost robotically. "Hello, ho--," his secretary paused as he passed her. "Tube?" She asked.
"Tube."
She raised an eyebrow. "Right, you left your car at a club." He ignored her as well as he took the elevator to the top floor; his office.
D.E Corporation dealt with transported goods. They took care of shipping's and was considered one of best in the industry. Tom had inherited the company from his father, who at that time was not very successful. It had given to Tom only a few years ago and already he had improved beyond his father's expectations.
Now if only the old man was here to see it.
Tom sat comfortably on his plush wheeled chair. His office overlooked the city, which from all the way up here looked rather magnificent. The people looked like ants and Tom loved the feeling of seeing them so small. Of course, it was a different story when he was on the ground with them.
The spacious room was actually quiet plain, only decorated with a few paintings and plants. The linked his fingers together and laid his chin on them, elbows on the wooden table.
His mind resumed its course onto the enigma that was Harry. He hadn't asked for a last name, not expecting the early leave. So how was he supposed to track the man down?
A catch like this needed more effort and attention.
Tom switched on his computer, typed in the password and waited for it to load. As soon as it was done loading, he opened up a tab. Typing in Facebook, he could already feel the embarrassment of such a desperate act bite at his heart.
But he simply had to do something. So for the better part of the hour, he went through profile after profile, searching for 'Harry.' None of them held a candle to the Harry he was looking for.
Jenny poked a head into the room, "Don't forget about the dinner tonight." He waved her off.
"I'm serious. It's really important, many of your business partners will be there and they're expecting you to show up."
Without looking at her he replied, albeit snappily, "I think I'd know what's important and what's not."
She huffed and left, murmuring obscenities at him. Perhaps he should fire her. That was no way too talk about your boss. Even if he was being difficult. She had a right to worry. It wouldn't be the first time he blew off a business dinner. But not this one, this one actually was important. It would determine his rise and fall in the shipping industry.
So he pushed Harry out of his mind. Well, tried to.
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Tom adjusted his tie for the nth time. He wasn't nervous, no, just extremely uncomfortable. The five star restaurant, despite its air conditioning felt stuffy to Tom. He kept tapping his foot, hoping time would fly, as it did when he usually never wanted it to. What a bitch.
He kept a pleasant smile on his face however, nodding to the talkative old men around him.
"Tom my boy," Tom was who's boy? "Everything's going great and I must say I am very, very impressed," He couldn't remember the man's name, that was usually Jenny's job. But he thanked the man anyways.
The conversations carried on like that and eventually Tom excused himself. The bathroom was just as glorious as the rest of the place. The tiles shone and the mirrors practically sparkled. Tom nodded his approval. Hopefully they'd make public toilets something like this. He immediately snorted to himself at the thought. That wasn't happening anytime soon.
He washed his face, hoping he'd be able to keep himself awake throughout the rest of the dinner. It wouldn't do for him to fall asleep in his plate of caviar.
On the way back to his table, he didn't know why and he didn't bother trying to figure it out, he looked to his left. A mop of black hair made him pause. The head holding that hair turned slightly and Tom's breath quickened just a tiny bit. And then, as if sensing Tom's stare, the person turned his face completely, the shock on his features matching Toms.
Green eyes stared into dark ones.
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TBC.
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