Written on Thrown Away Napkins

Love yourself

This story isn't edited in any way, shape, or form.

Disclaimer: I do not own KHR, HP, or any of their wonderful characters.

Characters: Skull, Harry.

Warnings: Implied selfcest. Unfinished. Random. Harry-is-Skull fic with a twist? ALSO kinda GAAAAAAY; aka, SLASH. So if that's not your cup of tea, don't read, lmao.

A/N: I- I have no idea where I was going with this, lmao. I was telling myself to jump onto the bandwagon of writing a Skull-is-Harry fic, and this came out instead? IDK. I wanted to add a bit more to this story, but then realized that it was going to an overall place with unfinished stories and whatnots- it's been awhile since I produced anything less than 7,000 words, honestly.

Also! If anyone wants to take inspiration on any of these stories that I post here, or want to run off into the sunset with one of them- go ahead! All I ask is a link, and to be somewhat credited. :'D But mostly a link because I like reading. v.v

Enjoy!


Skull was in a cheap hotel when his alternate self dropped into his life.

He had finished a long regime of stunt riding with a company that toured around Europe and some of Russia. Ever since he started the season, he had been on a constant high and drive; it was okay, it wasn't like he had much of a life beyond his stunt bike. But now that he was left to his own devices, finally deciding to peel away from the Company that was getting a bit too comfortable to him, Skull had a chance to relax, and breathe.

So to be put shortly, his body ached like a bitch.

Something about always on the move, the adrenaline, the constant state of fear-induced high and near death experiences; Skull's muscles were always tense, always working. It seemed like everything ached and every single nerve of his body was trying to detach themselves from him.

After a long sleep, Skull had dragged himself to a shower and let the hot water soothe away the ache for a bit. He used the complimentary shampoos and conditioners, scowling when he realizes that his hair was fading, the purple dye running down the drain.

With that in mind, Skull avoided looking into the steamy mirror as he rushed out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. Another towel was wrapped around his hair, twisting up the thick locks upwards so Skull could avoid looking at it.

The chill of the hotel room made the ache come back, and Skull grumbled, collapsing back onto the bed. There was nothing he wanted more than to curl up back under the duvet, but he wanted to do some stuff today. He wasn't a teenager anymore, not being protected in the Home, and was allowed to slack off with his life like before; it was an independence he had craved and lusted after for many years, and he was happy to have it.

But it was awfully lonely, too.

Well, Skull told himself, it wasn't like he wasn't used to that feeling, anyways.

Just- just a few moments. Skull pressed his eyes closed. The bed was awfully tempting, though.

Maybe if Skull wasn't wandering the edges of dreamland, or if he had any more observational skills, he would have noticed the atmosphere in the room shift. Something like static ran across the room, and raised goosebumps over Skull's skin, making him shift uncomfortably.

Crack

Skull's eyes snapped open, and he was about to sit up before something landed on him. Something, or someone- Skull grunted in pain and the person landed on him roughly with a grunt of his own, and Skull didn't waste no time in trying to throw off the other person. With a rough shove, the person compliantly fell away from him, landing on the hotel floor. Skull scrambled upwards, brain trying to process the situation.

Violet eyes met green, and it seemed like the world stopped.

The other male looked awfully familiar, but Skull couldn't really place a finger on why though. His hair was the same at Skull's natural hair, dark and messy. His face was remarkably like Skull's own appearance too, plain and painfully nondescript features; he would have been completely unremarkable like Skull was before he became who he was today. However, his face was also very expressive, youthful even, and there was a certain air of tiredness and being defeated carrying over in his posture, shown in his slightly hunched shoulders.

His green eyes were rather pretty, though.

Skull felt his face flush terribly when he realized that he was dressed rather promiscuously, with only a damp towel wrapping up his hair and around his waist. With a slow dawning of realization, he also recognized the feeling of nothingness down around his hips, and that his towel had come undone down there when he had stood up. It pooled down by his feet, and Skull tried not to bring attention to his own horrible, horrible, realization.

It only grew worse when said pretty green eyes trailed downwards, and yep, he was totally looking at Skull's junk right now. Skull sputtered out of embarrassment, face heating up rapidly. He refused to let out a high pitched scream, nor did he hide his face or junk because dammit, he had his manly pride and wasn't embarrassed.

The other person's face reddened, and he had an awkward smile on his face. His eyes were suddenly averted off to the side, even as his face reddened and he chuckled weakly. "Heh," he said, and Skull, honestly, had enough.

"Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my room?" Skull snapped, carefully undoing the towel on his head to wrap around his waist as casually as he could. There was no way in hell he was bending or kneeling down for the fallen towel, especially when the other person was still sitting sprawled out before him. Skull felt oddly like a laughed at stripper, and he scowled slightly, beyond flustered and unhappy.

There are only a few situations where he wanted to be in a cheap and quite shady hotel room, almost naked in front of another, honestly not-bad-to-look-at person, and this wasn't said situation. In fact, it was far from it. So far from it that it was in a whole other world!

"My name is Harry," the man before him said, face still bent awkwardly away from staring at Skull. Skull momentarily paused, frowning slightly, before he continued to gather clothes from his forgotten duffle bag beside the door. Harry, huh? Small world... "And I don't know what I'm doing here."

"How did you even get in? You appeared out of nowhere! I thought someone was doing a drive-by!" Skull accused, stepping into the bathroom. He dropped the towel and quickly tried to dress himself as quickly as he could. His body felt so naked without clothes. And the scenario of the drive-by was uncalled for considering he was on the second floor.

Harry didn't respond, and when Skull exited the bathroom, he was staring outside the blinds of the motel curiously. Skull frowned. When they were both standing up, both of them were the same height as well. "I guess I was 'dropped' off," Harry finally said. "Which brings me to ask, who are you?"

Skull rolled his eyes, inwardly panicking at the question. And this situation. And said person who was in charge of putting him in this situation. This man didn't make any sense! "My name, you pleeb, is Skull de Mort! Otherwise known as the great Skull-sama," Skull emphasized this by jutting his chin up, squaring his shoulders proudly. He winked at Harry's bemused expression. "You might have heard about me, I'm the rising star of stunt riding!"

"Stunt riding?" Harry glanced away, eyes going dark and distant. His smile turned a bit flakier, falling a bit. "Skull de Mort? Of death?" There was an ironic twist to Harry's lips as he threw his head back and laughed, bitterly.

Skull frowned, indigent. "Yeah," he said, defensive. "What, is something wrong with it?" He scratched the back of his head. His new pen name was still shaky for him, and Skull had something resonate within him at choosing it. Something clicked into place; it was also gaudy and laughable, which fit for Skull's new life as an entertainer.

"Nothing is wrong," Harry calmed himself down. His grin was amused, wan, and still somehow tired. "It's just ironic to me. But if you don't mind me asking, what is your real name?"

Skull stiffened. "I do, in fact, mind you asking," Skull carefully worded. "You don't need to know it."

"I do, actually," Harry replied. "I'm your responsibility as of right now."

A pause.

"Wait, what?"

-0-0-0-

As it turns out, Harry is his alternate self who took a nope train to fuckthatville during a war in his world, and was given this second chance to live freely by death himself. As it also turns out, Harry was the Master of Death in the last life for accepting death so easily.

It seems like no matter which alternative self Skull had, they'd be associated with death on some level.

"I just have one more question," Skull declares, after the lengthy explanation and brief headache. Harry hums. "Is it masturbation if we had sex together? I mean, we're technically the same person here, and is it really sex if it's with yourself?"

Harry shrugs, after a long awkward and bewildered laugh. "I- I don't know," he admits, grinning despite how flushed his face was.

"...Wanna find out?"

"Oh my god, are you flirting with me?"


Review, favorite, follow, or whatever you do to stories that you read.

Take initiative and love yourself, people.

Even other versions of yourself.

(p.s thanks to all the birthday wishes! :D)

-mms