Author's Notes: Well here's a slashy bit . . . Or is it?

Chapter Twelve -- Consecration or Not

"Have you ever heard of the Muggle tradition of consecrating the relationship?" Tom asked, moving forward so that he was practically on top of Harry.

"What? I mean . . . no . . . I mean yes . . . I mean . . ." Harry stammered, trying to scramble away from Tom.

"Sometimes I think that it's a good idea to stick to traditions," Tom whispered, edging right up against Harry.

"I . . . Wait! Since when did you believe in following Muggle traditions," Harry snapped, shoving Tom as hard as he could but only effectively pushing him back a little.

"Temper, temper," Tom smiled.

"No . . . It's just . . ." Harry sighed. "You're still Lord Voldemort. You still killed my parents. You still tried to kill me numerous times. How on earth do you expect me to . . ." Harry blushed a deep shade of crimson. "Sleep with you?"

"Just forget about it for now," Tom shrugged, as if that were the most reasonable thing in the world.

"Forget about it?" Harry said, rolling his eyes. "How do you expect me to forget about it?

"Well, you could start by not thinking so hard and by just enjoying it."

"Enjoying what?"

"This," Tom smiled, leaning forward and, before Harry could protest anymore, pressed his lips against Harry's. Harry automatically tensed up underneath Tom and scrunched his eyes shut. Tom flicked his tongue against Harry's mouth but Harry still didn't react. He just lay there, completely petrified. Tom finally lifted his head up.

"Well, that wasn't exactly how I pictured the first kiss going," Tom sighed. He got up from the bed and walked over to the bookshelf to examine the selection.

"And how exactly did you picture it going?" Harry said, bitterly. "That you would kiss me and I would kiss you back? That everything would be put behind us and I'd give in to your every wanton need?"

"My 'every wanton need?'" Tom scoffed, opening up a volume on mythical beasts. "You've been reading too many romance novels."

"Have not," Harry scowled. A long awkward pause fell over the couple. Harry was the one to break it. "Tom," he said pensively. "Why don't you hold any grudges against me like I do against you?"

Tom closed the book he was reading and looked at Harry.

"I just don't see the point," Tom said simply. "We can hold grudges all we want but, in the end, it's not going to get us anywhere. If we could both just loosen up and learn to enjoy this, it would be a vast improvement. After all, we were bound for a reason . . ."

"You've been listening to Dumbledore too much," Harry grumbled.

"Well it's true, isn't it?" Tom asked, matter-of-factly.

"I s'ppose," Harry said, trying to find the logic in the situation. Tom put the volume back onto the shelf and walked back over to the bed. He sat down next to Harry and began stroking his hair again.

"Now just relax . . ." Tom said, softly. Harry automatically tensed up but, with some coaxing from Tom, he eventually laid his head against Tom's chest.

"I can be very persuasive, you see," Tom whispered and Harry began to curl up against him. Tom was going to try and push Harry further but then he noticed the snoring coming from his chest.

Harry Potter had fallen fast asleep.

"Shouting one moment, sleeping the next," Tom smiled, leaning up against the headboard. "What am I going to do with you, Potter?"

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"So . . . Are we sharing the bed again?" Harry shouted into the bathroom. Tom was taking a shower and Harry wanted to make sure that he could be heard. It was August 1st -- The second night that Tom and Harry were sharing a set of chambers.

"Unless you want to sleep on the floor," Tom yelled back. Harry heard the water stop and, after a few moments, a very wet, very disheveled Tom Riddle came out of the bathroom in a pair of damp silk pajamas.

"Do you know what a towel is?" Harry smiled.

"Move over," Tom laughed as Harry moved onto "his side of the bed." Tom eased under the covers and they both lay there for a while in silence.

"So what did you do today?" Tom asked, as he was accustomed to.

"Not much," Harry stated. "I worked some more on that potions project. I'm getting really good at sleeping draughts."

"Remind me to teach you how to cast a Dark Orb."

"What?"

"Dark Orbs. If you show your next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor that you can cast one, I guarantee that you'll have the highest marks in the class."

"Really . . ." Harry said, seeing one of the perks of living with Tom Riddle. He turned over to look at the boy lying next to him. Tom's hair fell in wet strands over his eyes. He was smiling brightly at Harry. "You do look charming," Harry yawned.

"Oh, so I'm charming now! I remember a couple weeks ago when I was a 'horrible, miserable, disgusting thing.'"

"Well, you're still all that," Harry said, smiling sleepily. "Now you're just a horrible, miserable, disgusting, charming . . . attractive thing."

"Thanks," Tom said.

The tension between the two boys was palpable yet neither one of them was willing to take the initiative. They both just lay there, looking at each other. Tom hesitantly reached his hand out and stroked Harry's cheek. Harry closed his eyes, leaning into the touch.

"What are you doing Potter?" Harry asked himself. "He's touching you, you're obviously enjoying it. So much for being completely straight. But . . . God, why am I so nervous? He's just touching me. It's not like we're getting ready to fuck or anything."

"Um Tom?" Harry asked.

"Yes?"

"How far are you planning on taking this . . . tonight?"

"Only as far as you want to," Tom replied, gently.

"Oh," Harry said. He quickly turned over in bed so that Tom couldn't touch him anymore. "Good night then, Tom."

Tom sighed in bitter defeat.

"Good night Harry."

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Harry turned over in bed and found that Tom had long since fallen asleep. The boy's eyelashes were fluttering up and down with ever breath, his frail form rising and falling. "This is the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort?" Harry thought to himself looking at the sweet boy lying next to him. "He just looks so . . . innocent." Harry reached out a hand and touched a strand of Tom's hair. It was still a little damp from the shower but the touch sent shivers down Harry's spine -- As if he was indulging in the forbidden. He moved his hand down to Tom's face and stroked his cheek tenderly. Hand moved down Tom's face to the side of his neck and down his neck to his chest. Hand came to rest on Tom's chest -- feeling the boy breathing. It lulled Harry a bit.

Tom's eyes fluttered open and came to rest on Harry.

"Hey," he sighed.

His eyes lowered as he realized that Harry's hand was resting on his chest.

"Should we try that kiss again?" Tom asked, smiling. "We can call the first attempt null and void if you want."

Harry nodded his head without even thinking. As a normal sixteen-year- old boy, his hormones were raging.

Tom slowly leaned over to Harry whose breaths were slightly labored now. He slowly pressed his lips against the younger boy's. Tom pushed his tongue gently against the barrier and, after a moment of hesitation, Harry's lips parted slightly. Tom's tongue immediately slipped into Harry's mouth and slowly Harry began to respond -- his tongue meeting the other boy's and fondling it gently. Tom's arms twined around Harry's waist. The kiss wasn't anything magnificently beautiful to Harry but it was passionate and warm and, in Harry's opinion, it was over far too soon. Tom drew back first, taking a deep breath, and rubbing Harry's back soothingly.

"What have I done?" Harry asked -- More to the abyss than to Tom. Tom just pulled him a little closer and told him to be quiet and try to get some sleep.

Author's Note: Believe it or not, although I've written plenty of slash fiction, that's the first kiss I've ever written . . .