Author's Note: I love people who tell me my mistakes, but know that I both don't have a beta and put these up the exact second I finish as so not to leave you waiting. So, if you're just going to correct something, please say something nice, too. Please and thanks!
Warnings: Slash, non-Slash (Hetero), Abuse, AU, anything else I don't consider worth warning you over…
Disclaimer: Does it look like I own Harry Potter? If your answer is yes, I love you.
Harry rushed forward, through the downpour, hating his life and lack of umbrellas. He was going to have to reapply his concealer when he got inside. It was waterproof, yes, but one could never be too safe. Harry slid inside the building, barely saving himself from falling over.
And on top of it all, his shirt was white. The only reprieve he had was the fact that the devil wouldn't arrive for another hour or so. The devil's bitch, however…
"What's the matter, Potter? Too poor for an umbrella?" Harry dutifully ignored Malfoy's taunt and instead turned to the back room – A place Harry usually strayed from. It was where extra things stayed. Extra shirts, extra pants, extra razors, extra guns, extra everything. It also led to a small bathroom – shower included – for overnighters. Harry was quick to take advantage of that by grabbing a random shirt, – plain black – walking into the bathroom, and locking it behind him.
He took the small bottle of concealer out of his back pocket along with his wallet and cell phone before untying his shoes, taking off his socks, stripping out of his pants and boxers and hanging them over the counter. Unbuttoning his shirt just a moment later, Harry was ready to step into a hot shower that he so richly deserved. The water at his apartment was freezing, but the water here? Harry had it turned up so high that it was nearly scalding, and his muscles were thanking him for it. At first, he was planning on waiting for the water to run cold, but after fifteen minutes of perfectly hot water, Harry realized that rich people didn't have to worry about that and figured it was about time to get out.
His boxers, pants, socks, and shoes were quickly slapped on and the black shirt that was both much too wide and much too long slipped over wet hair that Harry barely took the time to wipe over with a towel. With just as much practice as he had tying his shoes, Harry applied the cover-up to his scar. Once the cursed spot on his forehead looked just like the rest of his skin, Harry shoved his personal affects back into his pockets and unlocked the door, prepared to rejoin the world.
"Pity. And here we thought you'd drown." Bellatrix was just as nice as always, so Harry responded in kind.
"Yes, and we hoped you did." He needed to start the coffee, if not to avoid getting yelled at than to quench his thirst.
"Harry, what are you doing?" Sirius sounded very confused, but Harry didn't pause in his task.
"Making coffee. What's it look like?" Every member of Riddle's crew had a moment of crazy every now and again. Harry was learning to ignore it.
"It looks like you're trying to suck up to my lover." Malfoy was just as obnoxious as usual, so Harry waited until he turned the pot on to dignify the snarky comment with a response.
"Malfoy, I realize that you're a jealous, brown-nosing bitch, but not everyone is like you." It was the nicest way Harry could think to put it.
"You're nothing but an ill-mannered bastard who needs a good disciplining." Malfoy snarled the words, and Harry took a sip of his coffee, promising himself he would get himself his preferred drink as soon as he could afford it.
"Is there a point you're trying to make, or are you just stating the obvious?" Surprisingly enough, the next one up to speak was Riddle.
"You do realize that you're wearing my shirt, right?" Harry glanced down at the plain black t-shirt he was wearing and was honestly surprised. He had picked the least dressy thing in there and was actually expecting it to be Sirius's. His hand gripped the fabric of the neckline and lifted it a little.
"Well, no wonder it smells like the cologne on this thing costs more than my apartment's rent for a year." Harry wasn't smiling as he spoke the words and dropped the fabric so that it could settle on his body a moment later.
"Don't act like you don't like it, Potter." For the first time that day, in reaction to Bellatrix's words, Harry rolled his eyes. Why was everyone so insistent on him liking Riddle?
"Actually, Bella," she hated the nickname and it showed, "I don't. If I was going to wear cologne, I wouldn't pay a fortune for it and it wouldn't smell like this. I was always more of a Black Suede kind of guy, to tell the truth." Slowly, Harry smiled, lost in one of his few good memories for just a second, but when Harry opened his eyes he wasn't sitting in biology 101 with Cedric making jokes about cologne, but standing in a room of murderers with a cup of scalding coffee that really needed less caffeine. "Either way I'll wash it and return it tomorrow, so don't worry." Harry really didn't see the big deal. It was just a shirt.
"Take your time. I haven't worn that shirt for a good year or two." There was something in Riddle's voice that Harry either couldn't place or simply didn't want to, and the younger man shrugged.
"Whatever you say, Riddle." Harry knew he would return it in the next day or so, but the knowledge that there was no rush was a nice touch.
"Which is why it being so large on you is even funnier than it would normally be." Malfoy's taunt meant nothing as Harry was used to having hand-me-downs that were much bigger on him than Riddle's clothing. But then, being a malnourished six year old trying to fit into an overweight ten year old's clothing did that sometimes.
"Riddle, how old are you?" Harry didn't really care, but he lovbed shoving things in Malfoy's face.
"Twenty-seven." Eight years older than Harry. Not too bad. "I'm sorry that you failed Anatomy & Physiology, Malfoy, but from twenty-five to twenty-seven, his body type isn't going to change that much. Unless he started working out an insane amount recently – which isn't possible because otherwise he would have been killed by now – or stopped working out recently – which also isn't possible because his abs are made of fucking steel or something equally unfair – there's no chance that this shirt wouldn't fit him just as well now as it did the last time he wore it, making your statement invalid." A small, arrogant smile crawled onto Harry's face, and he couldn't resist one last word.
"Bitch."
Malfoy then launched himself at Harry. Though he had probably never been in a serious fight before, his punch was strong, and Harry's jaw was sure to have a wonderful bruise later on in the night. Slowly, Harry moved his jaw around, making sure it was fine before wiping the side of his mouth with his hand and staring down at the blood on it. His hand moved to wipe it off on his shirt before remembering that it wasn't his shirt and putting the red liquid on his pants instead.
"If you date call me, a Malfoy, something so degrading again, you'll get a lot worse than a bruised jaw." Harry supposed that if he was someone else that would have sounded threatening, but seeing as he wasn't, Harry found it funny. In fact, he couldn't have stopped himself from laughing if Riddle had pointed a gun to his head and ordered it. When he finally stopped laughing, there was a wide grin on his face that felt more genuine than anything that had touched his lips in a long while.
"You know what, Malfoy? You're not so bad after all."
Hermione proceeded to check his head.
(***Iridescent***)
When Harry went to the office that morning, he laid the folded up shirt on Riddle's desk. When he came back from lunch with Hermione and Ron, Riddle was wearing it. For a minute, Harry just stared at him. After that minute, he decided that it was odd enough to question.
"Why did you change shirts?" His question was understandable, but Riddle, apparently, wasn't in the mood for understandable.
"I felt like it." His tone was clipped, leaving no room for the conversation to continue. Harry pressed onward.
"I know you like to say that, but you wouldn't be where you are now if you just went around doing whatever you felt like." Not even Harry was stupid enough to believe that. Riddle's eyes snapped up from his paperwork, and somehow they seemed more red than brown.
"I don't think changing my shirt on a whim is going to be detrimental to my health, Potter." Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Bellatrix's hand landed on Harry's shoulder and yanked him backwards, farther away from Riddle.
"Don't speak out against your betters, brat!" She was so damn protective over Riddle that it was ridiculous.
"I'll keep that in mind when I find someone who's better." Harry shrugged her hand off. "Now, what the hell is up with today? I know you've got a permanent attitude problem, and I can relate to that much, but what is it about today that's got everyone treading on eggshells around you? Because it's fucking annoying enough to have everyone else acting odd, but when you go loopy too, I know everything's gone to hell." Riddle looked at him oddly, probably because he saw a compliment hidden somewhere amongst the insults – which Harry wasn't even sure was there but he may have accidently shoved one in – but simply said—
"Fuck off." Normally, Harry would curse right back and walk off to whatever he was supposed to be doing. Today though… Well, everyone else was acting strange. Why couldn't he? Harry's throat went dry as he continued to look at Riddle, determined to find out what was wrong but at the same time determined not to say anything that concerned his past. Then again, people who knew his past were the only ones that really bothered to look at him.
Even the very little Cedric knew made them closer.
"My parents died when I was four. They were killed by a man a lot like you. He had dark eyes and dark hair and when I screamed for help, they were too late." Harry refused to break eye contact with Riddle or let his voice shake or even think about what Riddle or anyone else in the room would do with the information. "Now, what the hell is going on?" He didn't want to be excluded from the important things just because Riddle had just as many issues as he did.
"You think that a smidgen of information on you equals out to some on me?" Riddle almost sounded like it was laughable, but something deep in Harry's bones told him that he was right. It was enough.
"Yes." Harry took a step forward to replace the one Bellatrix had taken by pulling him back. For a long minute, Riddle did nothing more than stare at Harry, just like the rest of the room.
Then he spoke.
"Not even close." But even Harry knew that the pause, the calmer tone of Riddle's voice, they meant that Riddle was giving permission for someone else to tell him. Slowly, Harry smiled.
"Of course not." Harry didn't like Riddle, but maybe he didn't quite hate him, either.
(***Iridescent***)
When Harry had been told that the uproar the week before was because it was the anniversary of when Riddle's mother died – that it was his birthday – he wondered what Riddle's life had been like. Maybe Riddle had lived well until his father had pissed him off and he just snapped. Maybe he had been beaten and starved, like Harry. Maybe his father had left, and Riddle had never quite gotten over it. But if that had happened, Riddle would have been put in an orphanage, where he would have been adopted for sure (because Riddle could be damn charming when he wanted to be), so Harry didn't put much stock in that one.
Whatever it was, Harry was curious. But curiosity wouldn't ever be enough to make him delve into someone's personal life when they didn't want it being delved into. He had enough experience with that. So, knowing that there was no point in trying to save up to pay his bills, and knowing that Riddle would probably just laugh at him, anyhow, Harry had bought him a present. He wasn't really sure why he had done it. He just had.
It was nothing big; just a ring. It wasn't made of silver or gold, like the other rings that Harry had seen him wear from time to time, but a cheap metal that had cost harry only $20. The other $15 he had spent was on the inscription on the inside. It was nothing sentimental, simply the words Tom Marvolo Riddle. It wasn't something that would show any weakness if Riddle ever decided to wear it (which he probably wouldn't), and Harry had never seen the man wearing any sort of necklace or bracelet, so that was out of the question. Plus, Harry wasn't really sure what the man liked, if he liked anything at all, so there were few options.
Therefore, Riddle was going to get a small black box, no wrapping paper or bows or ribbon, with a ring and a note inside. So, at ten at night on a Saturday, when everyone was bound to be out of the office, Harry used his key to slip in. Harry planned on placing the box in Riddle's desk and letting him discover it whenever.
He didn't plan on Riddle being at the desk, doing paperwork.
Chocolate rubies glanced up when Harry entered, and they didn't go back down. After a moment, Harry took a deep breath. No backing out now.
"Happy birthday." Harry pulled the box out of his jacket pocket and took long strides to get to riddle's desk more quickly. He sat it down on top of the papers that Riddle had obviously been working on, and turned to walk away.
"Stop." The word reverberated in the normally noisy room, and Harry quietly cursed himself for stopping before turning on his heels to face Riddle, who was already reading over the note to himself. Then, to add to the embarrassment, he read it again. Slowly, folding the paper up precisely as Harry had, he took out the ring.
Harry knew the exact moment that Riddle saw the inscription because his eyes flashed and suddenly he was looking at Harry, not the ring.
"What the fuck are you playing at?" And he was ticked. Harry's brows furrowed.
"I'm not playing at anything." He was just trying to be nice.
"Don't play that innocent boy shit with me. What the fuck do you want?" For a minute, Harry stared. After that, he ran a hand through windswept hair and tossed Riddle a small, sad smile.
"Nothing." With that said, Harry turned on his heels and started to walk away. Too bad Riddle was bad at letting him do that. A strong hand gripped his bicep and Harry was swung back around before being pinned against the wall.
"What. Do. You. Want?" Riddle wasn't just ticked. He was furious.
"I told you already. I don't want anything." Nothing Riddle could give him anyway. Nothing he wanted without earning it first.
"Liar." Riddle got closer to him, and fir the first time, Harry smelled it. Black Suede. It was a scent that made Harry want to pull Riddle closer. "I won't ask you again." The scotch and chocolate assaulted Harry's senses again, and Riddle was so close that Harry was surprised he hadn't smelled it before.
He wondered if Riddle tasted anything like he smelled.
Scotch and chocolate and Black Suede and musk were things that Harry had never imagined bundled together before, but in that moment he couldn't imagine one without the other. Harry's breath came in and out shakier than he'd intended, making Harry wonder if Riddle could feel how fast his heart was beating, despite the fact that there was clearly nothing for it to speed up over.
"Is it money? Recognition? Drugs?" That, however, snapped Harry out of his trance. "Or do you just like fucking with me?" Riddle's voice was just as dangerous as it was deep. Harry put his hands up to wrap them around Riddle's wrists.
"Believe it or not, Riddle, not everyone has an ulterior motive." Riddle didn't resist when Harry lowered his arms and slipped away, out the door. Harry didn't look back. In fact, the only thing that Harry did besides walk was wonder what it was in his note that could have made his boss react in such a manner. He was still running over it in his head as he drifted off to sleep.
Dear, Riddle
I noticed that no one told you, 'Happy Birthday' or gave you anything, and I get that it's a bad day for you. I have days like that. MY birthday used to be like that. But you have to celebrate it sometime or another, right? Well, either way, here it is. Because you like your name so much.
Happy Birthday,
Harry J. Potter
(***Iridescent***)
Harry wasn't surprised when he walked in the next day and Riddle didn't have the ring on any of his fingers. In fact, he would be extremely shocked if Riddle hadn't thrown it all away as soon as Harry had left.
"Hey, guys." He nodded to the random people in the room, sipping on his perfect, preferred brew. It took extra time, making him late, so Harry picked up Riddle's regular, black coffee, too. He waltzed over and sat Riddle's on his desk.
"Hey, Malfoy? Get that stick out of your ass yet?" Harry believed in pleasant conversations starting the day. Blue eyes glared.
"Why? Is it blocking your view when you stalk me?" Malfoy was sneering again; such a difference from the man he was sitting on who managed to make boredom look graceful. Harry smirked.
"Trust me, Malfoy. There's no stick big enough to block that view." And then Harry started the coffee.
"So, you admit you've been looking?" It was a taunt.
"I must have been to stalk you. But don't worry. You're not my type anymore." Harry turned away from the pot with a smile. "I'm more for tall, dark, and not-a-narcissistic-asshole now." Harry looked him up and down. "You flunk on all three counts." It was true. Draco Malfoy was nothing like what Harry found attractive.
Mentally, it was probably someone like Rodolphus.
Physically, well, Harry didn't want to think about that.
Which reminded him…
"Hey, Sirius, how did your date with Rodolphus go last night?" Sirius's face turned red as his jaw dropped.
"It wasn't a date! We just had dinner is all!" Rodolphus looked over at Harry with interest before moving his eyes to Sirius.
"Where'd you go?" Harry was genuinely curious, but he also wanted to prove a point.
Sirius shrugged. "Some expensive place downtown." And Harry's smirk widened to a smile.
"Who paid?" Sirius looked at Harry oddly when the question was asked.
"Rodolphus, but he's the one who invited me out, so it's only fair." With a laugh, Harry responded.
"So, Rodolphus asked you to an upscale restaurant, you agreed, and he paid for your meal. What part of that doesn't sound like a date?" Harry laughed a little more, and Sirius opened his mouth before closing it again, unwilling to say anything else that might incriminate him. Rodolphus, behind his book, gave a smirk that Harry knew was both loving and mocking.
"Don't you have something you need to be doing?" Riddle was clearly still in a bad mood.
"Like what? I balanced the checkbooks, I made your coffee, I cleaned up the office, I checked the accounting, even dropped off your fucking dry-cleaning. What else am I supposed to do?" Harry was partially being sardonic just for the sake of it, but he also wondered just why he was there that day.
Riddle tossed him a set of keys.
"Go wash my car." It was a ridiculous request and everyone in the room knew it. With a snarled curse, Harry turned to go. "Oh, and Potter?" Harry turned once more.
"What now, Riddle?" Riddle's smirk topped Harry's scorn.
"Take Bellatrix with you."
(***Iridescent***)
"Scared, Potter?" Bellatrix climbed into the driver's seat with a grin, and Harry didn't bother answering her. If she wrecked the Camaro, she'd be forgiven. If Harry wrecked it, he'd be shot. That was just how Riddle worked. "Don't worry. I'm good at this." And then she sped off, weaving in between cars and stopping for red lights only seconds before the line, and Harry thanked God he had his seatbelt on.
"Fucking hell, Bellatrix, slow down!" He was holding onto the panic bar for dear life, but she only cackled more loudly. "You're going to get us pulled over!" If Riddle got a speeding ticket, Bellatrix in the driver's seat or not, Harry knew he would be blamed. She laughed louder and sped up.
Harry closed his eyes until he felt the car come to a complete stop and heard it click into park.
"You're such a baby, Potter? What's the matter, parents never taught you how to have fun?" Her grin was shit-eating. "Oh, wait… Baby Potter's parents died before they could do that!" She laughed harder than before while getting out of the car, an action that Harry couldn't follow fast enough.
"Like yours did so well. At least mine cared for the little bit they could." Harry watched her pay the man standing outside of the car wash with a frown. She turned to him with a growl.
"That's Sirius's fault! My parents always liked him better. They thought he was perfect!" She shoved Harry with less force than she could have, and he knew it was just to make a point. "He doesn't deserve it! He doesn't deserve Rodolphus and he doesn't deserve to have Tom's gorgeous eyes on him or his glorious attention for even a moment!" Her anger was refocused from Harry to Sirius, and Harry wondered why she hated him so much. As far as he knew, her parents had never offered any affection to Sirius.
Then again, she was crazy.
Pretty much everyone in that damn office was.
(***Iridescent***)
"What the hell is this?" Harry slammed a file folder onto Riddle's desk. He didn't think they were anywhere near friends, but Harry hadn't expected such an invasion of privacy. He had thought Riddle was above that.
"It's a background check." There was no shame in Riddle's voice, just a dare for Harry to push the subject. Dare accepted.
"Yes. A background check on me. If I wanted you to know my past, I would have fucking told you!" Harry had read through it. All Riddle had been able to dig up was from the time he had entered high school onward, but it was the principle of the matter!
"Harry, it's just a precaution. You can't be too cautious—" Harry interrupted Rodolphus with a snarl.
"No. No the fuck it isn't!" He turned back to Riddle, who was still sitting calmly in his chair. "I've allowed you to mess with my life for too long! I don't care if you insult me every five minutes or invade my personal space and I can even deal with getting evicted from my apartment because you take up all the time that I could be using to work at a paying job—" Sirius interrupted Harry.
"You don't pay him?" He sounded incredulous , but Harry barely noticed him.
"—but I refuse to give up my privacy! You hear me, Riddle? I quit!" Harry turned to walk away, through with Tom Riddle and everything that had to do with him, but Riddle wasn't ready to accept that. The taller man was up and grabbing Harry's arm in an instant.
"I didn't tell you that you could quit." Riddle was trying to control him.
"I didn't fucking ask!" Harry proceeded to sucker punch Riddle in the jaw before turning and walking away. He made it outside the office before he realized that, for the first time, Riddle had followed.
"Don't walk away from me, Potter!" The door slammed behind Riddle, and no one dared to follow him out. Harry pressed the elevator button without turning around. Riddle took the liberty of doing that for him.
"What? What is it? What part of I quit don't you get?" Harry knew he was yelling. He was angry and he didn't care. The elevator doors dinged open, and Riddle slammed him against the wall of the elevator without hesitation.
"The part where you come in." Riddle was too close again, but this time he wasn't letting Harry push him away. "I never understand a damn thing when it comes to you, and you're not going to stop me from learning." Riddle refused to stop looking at Harry, who was busy watching the elevator doors close.
Ding.
They were officially alone.
"Riddle—" but Harry couldn't finish his sentence through the pair of lips trying to devour his own.
Kissing Riddle was nothing like kissing anyone else Harry had met. Riddle didn't ask permission to deepen it by licking Harry's lips, just forced his tongue in and started mapping out the inside of Harry's mouth. Riddle's calloused hands were large and talented as one slipped into Harry's hair to angle him the way Riddle wanted and the other went under Harry's shirt. It was so fierce that Harry couldn't help but respond, putting just as much force into the kiss as Riddle as he pushed back, his arms behind Riddle's neck as he forced his own tongue into the older man's mouth and reversed their positions so that Riddle was the one with his back to the wall instead.
"F-fuck—" Harry wasn't sure which one of them had cursed as he was flipped again, and Harry felt the hand leave his shirt to tug on the edge of Harry's pants instead.
"Just shut up, Freak! You'll get everything you deserve!"
Harry's eyes snapped open and he shoved Riddle away. The taller man was breathing just as heavily as Harry, his eyes clouded with lust, based on irritation and dabbed with question.
"I—I quit, Riddle." He refused to rethink it. He refused to think at all.
Ding.
Harry's time with Riddle was up, and he was determined never to let it start again.
