A/N:

previously on 'amanda why did you leave us hanging for so goddamn long wtf':

Harry's eyes, always kind, always patient when it came to Tom, held warmth in their gaze even when the eyes were not his own.

Well, not always so patient. Tom knew he could be a pain, that he pushed buttons because the buttons were there to be pushed. He lacked restraint, and he lacked the proper depth to have a conversation like this, a conversation where the depth mattered.

"And—" Harry sucked in a breath, colour staining his cheeks as his hands closed around Tom's, his eyes very intent. "And I love you. That's not going to go away just because we had a fight."

Chapter 8: Sweeter Than Fiction

Harry kept his eyes on Tom's, careful not to give into his urge to be shy and look away. Though he had thought these words—I love you—many times, this was the first time he'd ever said them aloud. He wanted to be sure that Tom knew he meant it. Tom's hands were warm in his as Harry waited for a response.

"You—" Tom broke off, blinking. "You said it."

Harry felt a rush of affection at this. "I did," Harry said, smiling, "because it's true."

Tom's hands twisted around to cover Harry's, squeezing hard. "You don't have to say that just to reassure me," Tom said, and his face contorted like it was trying to settle on an expression but could not quite get there.

"You are so stupid," Harry said. "The stupidest."

Tom opened his mouth to protest, and so Harry lifted a hand to cover the opening up. This action had the amusing result of drawing Tom's brows into an irritated scrunch.

"I know you hate talking about your feelings," Harry said, "which is why I want you to know that I love you. I want you to be able to trust me with your feelings, if you can. And if you can't, then I'd like for us to work towards it. I know I'm not perfect either, but I'm trying my best. Does that sound like something you can agree with?"

Tom nodded slowly, and so Harry dropped his hand, replacing his touch with a kiss to Tom's cheek. That prompted a smile, even if it was a tiny one, which warmed Harry's heart.

"Okay, great." Harry breathed out, then in, counting the seconds between as he wrangled his courage into place. "So now do you think we can talk about stuff?"

"Of course." The response—immediate and almost monotone—sounded automatic.

Tom disliked these conversations, which was why Harry had made an effort to push for it. If they didn't talk about these issues, they would only get worse. Unfortunately, in the midst of his pushing to make this conversation happen, Harry had forgotten something rather important.

"We don't have to talk just yet if you don't want to."

Tom blinked and shifted back, though his left hand remained wrapped around Harry's. "But we need to talk about this," Tom said slowly. "It is a part of a healthy relationship. You said that."

"I mean, yes, eventually we really do need to have a proper talk. But I also don't want to pressure you into talking about anything before you're ready. I should have brought that up earlier."

Tom said nothing. Harry waited patiently for a response, but none came out.

"Saying no is okay, Tom. We can shelve this for later. I just thought it would be easier for us both if we got this one stressful thing out of the way, you know?"

"I don't know," Tom admitted quietly. He glanced at their joined hands, then back up at Harry's face. When Tom spoke again, his voice was wry. "Perhaps it is easier like this. I'd be talking to myself, after all."

Harry pressed a palm to Tom's cheek, cupping it. It was strange to be looking into his own eyes, to gaze upon himself while the affection he felt for Tom welled up inside of him like a tidal wave. "A bit of self love never hurt anyone," Harry joked.

Tom smiled a little at that. "Why don't you tell me what's been bothering you, Harry." He sounded calm, his tone warm and almost familiar.

Harry felt… happy. He wrapped his arms around Tom's waist, tugging him into a hug, then tipped them both backwards and onto the bed.

A small 'oof' sound escaped Tom's lips. "Are we talking or not?" Tom grumbled, but he draped an arm around Harry's shoulder. "Also, you're too tall for this now."

"Mmmm." Harry nuzzled closer. "Worth the discomfort."

Tom sighed like he was being put upon. "I will be blaming you for my future back problems."

"Okay," Harry agreed, knocking his chin against Tom's chest. "As long as we're still together."

Tom sighed a second time, the noise softer and more fond. "Harry, we can talk about whatever it is. You don't need to worry about sparing my feelings."

Harry rolled his head to the side and laid his cheek next to Tom's heart. "I know." A hand caressed the back of his head, stroking lightly. Harry snuggled in closer and said, "I just… I don't want this to be something that hurts what we have together."

"I know you would never hurt me on purpose. So long as you'll have me, Harry, I'm here with you." Tom threaded their fingers together, linking their hands. "Now tell me what I need to do to fix this."

"First of all," Harry began, "it's not fixing. It's improving. Second of all, it's not a one-sided problem that you need to work on alone. That's what makes this a relationship—we work on it together."

"Yes, yes," Tom said. "I understand."

Tom was absolutely brilliant at almost everything—he excelled at academics and was a fountain of knowledge on so many subjects—but his only basis for a healthy relationship was his friendship with Lucius and his strange mentor/protege thing with Abraxas. Tom didn't consider most people to be worthy of his time and attention, and so he'd never had to work at all the things that most couples needed to do. Harry worried that one day this gap of experience between them would prove to be the last straw.

"I am listening," Tom added. "I promise, Harry."

Just like that, the rest of Harry's anxiety melted away. Tom's response was further assurance that this would work. Tom did make an effort to understand, to anticipate Harry's needs and meet them as best he could.

The only reason they had ended up in this mess in the first place was because Harry had gotten used to that—used to Tom knowing exactly what to say or do in any stressful situation. Tom was brilliant, yes, and so Harry had forgotten how vital proper communication was.

"Okay," Harry said. "Let's talk."

Their talk lasted for the rest of the evening, and by the end of it, Harry felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. It was one thing to realize just how much he had been bottling up; it was another to finally talk about it in an open way.

Tom was attentive as a listener and engaged when Harry asked cautious questions. Harry did feel like things would be better going forward. Especially because they had gotten this talk done, which set a precedent for the future.

"Is that everything, then?" Tom asked once the conversation had petered out. "Or was there more you wanted to talk about?"

Harry yawned and stretched his arms out. He and Tom were sitting across from each other on the bed. "No, I think that's it, actually. I think we pretty much covered everything that I wanted us to."

"Then you ought to sleep. It's rather late now, and 'I' am supposed to meet Luna tomorrow."

Harry had forgotten about that. "Right. I hope she doesn't notice anything off about me. I mean—about you."

"You'll perform admirably. Luna's a bit odd, anyhow. I don't doubt she'll have some interesting explanation to excuse whatever slip ups occur."

"Yeah." Harry rubbed at his face. "Do you think this will fix itself in the morning? I reckon it's cliche for us to go back to normal after talking our problems out but… I'm kind of hoping that was it."

"We'll see come morning. There's no point in assuming it will or hoping it will. We don't have any way of knowing what will happen."

Tom was right, but it didn't stop Harry from getting his hopes up anyways.

"Guess I'll go into the guest bedroom. I'm surprised my mum hasn't been nosing by the door, checking on us." Harry didn't fully mean the comment; he was fairly sure that his mum had known he and Tom were going to have a talk and had given them the space to do so. But the hour was late, and Harry didn't expect his parents' generosity to extend to letting Tom spend the night in his room.

"She's far too perceptive for that, your mother." Tom sat up and rolled his shoulders. "I'll see you in the morning, then."

Harry's hand lingered on the bed. Then he swooped over and pecked Tom on the cheek. "Good night, Tom."

Tom gave Harry's hand a quick squeeze. The tender gesture warmed his heart. Even if he woke in his own guest bedroom tomorrow morning, they still had this.

Harry washed for bed in the guest bathroom, dressed in Tom's pyjamas, and flattened out on the guest bed. He set his alarm, then put his phone on the bedside table.

Then Harry paused. He and Tom should have switched phones in case his parents came to check on them. But then again, maybe it wasn't that big of a deal? Certainly there wasn't anything he could do about that now, right?

It took him at least an hour to finally calm his mind enough to sleep. The unfamiliarity of the room, combined with his own worries about whether they would ever go back to normal, kept his brain restless and anxious. A few times he had to pull his own head out of his useless thought processes.

Like Tom had said, there was nothing they could do right now. Losing sleep over this wasn't going to help anyone. So Harry tossed and turned for some time, but he eventually managed to let his exhaustion overtake him and send him into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When Harry woke, the bright morning sunlight was blinding him. He'd forgotten to close the curtains because it wasn't his usual room. He… was not in his usual room. He was in the guest room, which meant he was still not himself.

Bloody hell.

Harry swung Tom's long legs over the side of the bed and sighed. Well, this was only to be expected, right? Tom had even warned him against getting his hopes up.

As if on cue, there was a faint rapping at his door. Harry knew before he opened it that it would be Tom.

"I know, I know," Harry grumbled as he tugged the doorknob. "I got my hopes up."

Tom was already fully dressed. Harry squinted, then remembered he didn't need to squint, then stared at Tom's hair—his own hair. It wasn't slicked with hair gel the way it had been yesterday. In fact, it didn't even look like it had been brushed at all.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Tom said, stepping through and shutting the door behind him. "We will sort this together, as I said."

Harry tried to smile, tried to mask his disappointment. It wouldn't help them in this situation.

Tom sighed and came closer, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders. "This is difficult, I know, but you are more than strong enough to get through this. If this doesn't improve, then we'll have to tell your parents."

"Ugh," Harry said. "That makes it sound like I've got some awful terminal disease. Which, er, I don't, because being you is not the same as having a disease but—god, you know what I mean. This sucks."

"It does suck." Tom frowned, then slipped his arms around and pulled him into a hug. "I will find a way to fix this, Harry. I promise."

The words were reassuring. Tom was so… so good at everything he did. He was good at literally everything. If there was anyone who could fix this, it would be him. Harry wanted to believe that.

"We'll fix it together," Harry reminded him. "I have faith."

They stood there for a while. Harry wished he could tuck his head into Tom's neck like he usually did, but with their current heights, it wasn't really feasible.

"I love you," Tom said, after a pause. "And I want you to hear that in my voice, spoken to you of my own free will. So we will fix this, if only because any other outcome is unacceptable."

Then Tom leant back and ran his hands up Harry's sides, his dark gaze as intent as his words. It was odd to see Tom's usual intense expression behind round-framed glasses and in those green eyes, but it was also comforting and familiar.

Harry felt his heart do a twist and a flip. He loved Tom more than anything, and it was important that Tom know that. With this in mind, Harry closed his eyes and ducked his head to place a clumsy kiss on Tom's lips.

As they made contact, Harry felt a strange, tingling spark run through him like a bolt of electricity. The warmth was pleasant, drawing him in. Tom's hand came to rest against the nape of Harry's neck, holding them together as their breaths mingled. The angle was awkward and new, but the affection Harry felt was not.

Tom pressed closer. Harry repressed an involuntary shudder as their kiss deepened. It wasn't what he had intended, but it felt good, and he'd missed this—

A sharp jerk in Harry's navel area jolted him out of his pleasant experience. His eyelids were closed, but his vision whited out, exploding into savage bursts of light that made it painful to have eyeballs.

Harry stumbled backwards and collided with the wall. No, wait, the door. The door? Harry slumped to the ground and was promptly disoriented, thrown by the tug in his stomach? In his brain? Either way, he was dizzy and confused and maybe vaguely nauseous.

"What the hell?"

Harry opened his eyes. He had hit his head on the door and was now slumped at the foot of it. Across from him, Tom was sprawled out on the carpet.

"Oh my god," Harry groaned, rubbing at his head. "Oh my fucking god. You have got to be kidding me. Are we in a Disney movie?"

"If we are," Tom said from the floor, "then it's your fault. I would have kissed you right away, if you'd let me—"

"You're awful," Harry said. "But I will let this go because it worked."

"—and we were having such a nice moment. It's a shame to let it go to waste." Tom sat up and straightened the pyjamas he was wearing. The pyjamas that Harry had changed Tom's body into the night before. God, this was weird.

"Uh huh. I love you, too."

Tom smiled, dazzlingly so, and it was so sweet that Harry felt the throb in his head lessen slightly.

"Fine," Harry whined. He crawled over and flopped onto Tom, knocking his boyfriend back onto the floor with an 'oof'. Tom's arms squeezed him as he snuggled close and planted his face in the crook of Tom's neck, inhaling the familiar scents. "I missed this."

Tom hummed in response. "I missed this, too. As lovely as your body is, Harry, I think I much prefer holding it to being trapped in it."

Harry snorted. "I will not miss being a beanpole. The accessibility of top shelves is not worth the clumsiness I suffered."

"I'll consider that as a compliment on my gracefulness."

"If being a graceful giraffe is a compliment, then yes, you are a graceful giraffe."

"A compliment," Tom repeated. His lips pecked Harry's forehead.

Harry huffed a puff of hot air against Tom's neck. "The most graceful giraffe to grace the planet—"

"Morning, boys!"

At the sound of his father's voice, Harry knocked his head—which was still sore, goddamn—against Tom's chin. "Fuck! Ow."

"Hey," Dad scolded. "None of that language in the house! I know you're adults and blah blah, but still. I feel like as your dad I need to be teaching you something."

Harry rolled over onto his back. He was embarrassed at having been caught cuddling Tom on the floor, but honestly, this wasn't that bad. Tom was wearing shorts and a t-shirt for sleeping in, but Harry was fully dressed in skinny jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. If they had actually been up to something, there would have been far less clothes involved.

"Sorry," Harry said. He rubbed at the top of his head, then winced. "Ow."

"You need ice," Tom commented, sitting up now that Harry was no longer on top of him. To James he added, "Harry hit his head on the door."

"I take it 're not a giraffe, you're a rat."

"One ice pack coming right up," said Dad. "And I wanted to ask, Tom, if you had plans for dinner tonight?"

"No," said Tom. Then his eyes slid over to Harry, a question lurking in their depths.

Harry thought he knew what was happening here, and so he only smiled, waiting.

Dad grinned. "Great! We're having family dinner tonight, and you are invited despite daring to defile my son in broad daylight."

"Oh my god, dad," Harry said, but James was already running away down the hall, meaning it was too late to berate him properly. "He's insane. I'll get him for that later."

Tom made a thoughtful sound. "Does this mean I should defile you in broad daylight? Because honestly, Harry, this was hardly scandalous."

Harry snorted and stretched his arm over so he could put his hand on top of Tom's. "Not what I meant. Besides, dad said family dinner. Sirius and Remus will be there, too. If you want to put up with Sirius' catcalling, then be my guest, but I don't recommend it."

At the word 'family', Tom's lips slid into a bland sort of smile, and Harry was reminded of their previous conversation. He gave Tom's hand a squeeze, then thought about what he wanted to say. It was important to him that Tom understood blood relatives weren't needed to have a family.

"I know it's scary to put yourself out there," Harry said softly. "And I know that I can't promise that everything will be perfect forever and ever, so I won't do that. But I don't want you to miss out on feeling loved and cared for because you're afraid to reach out."

Some doubt trickled into Tom's eyes. Harry could see Tom was trying to mask it.

"I really do mean it when I say my family loves you. And I don't just mean my parents. Sirius and Remus, too. And they're my family even if they aren't related to me," Harry said pointedly. Then he shuffled over to lay his head on Tom's shoulder. "So they all love you, which is why you're also a part of my family."

Tom let out a slow, shaky breath. It said something that this subject rattled him so much. Harry wrapped an arm around Tom's waist in a one-armed hug. The solid presence of Tom by his side was soothing.

"I have hope that this will last forever," Tom said in a low voice. "For now... I will appreciate what you've given me."

Harry smiled. "That's all I would ever ask for. Besides, you give me more than enough in return. Not to mention my life's gotten about a million times more exciting since we started dating."

"I am a very interesting person."

"You're a very dramatic one, yes. Though I think 'unexplained body swap' is going to be a difficult event to top."

"I'll manage, somehow."

Harry didn't doubt that was the truth, and for some reason, he found that he didn't mind. Tom was a part of his life, weird quirks and all, for better or for worse. The adventure of their time together had hardly begun; a future full of shenanigans stretched out ahead of them.

A/N:

OKAY THAT'S A WRAP. I AM GLAD THIS STORY IS FINALLY DONE. tbh i wasn't quite sure where i wanted to end it, but this seems like as good a place as any. this is what i get for not planning anything for this story other than funny jokes and fluffy moments.

i hope you all enjoyed! i am going to mark this series complete, but it does not rule out a sequel in the future if i suddenly get a wacky idea.

thank you all for being patient and waiting for me to get over myself and finish this story. i hope the ending is worthy.

yes the title is that taylor swift song. it slaps.