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Challenges listed at the bottom.
Word Count: 3258
Hogwarts Assignment 3: Etymology: Task #11: Jovial - Write a fic that ends with a happy ending/happily ever after.
Fight For Me
He was really hoping that someone would burst out of the wardrobe and tell him it was a hoax. Really, really hoping.
The navy sheets on the bed seemed to be mocking him. The bed itself was plush and under normal circumstances, he'd want to bury his face in the bouncy looking pillows and spend as much time there as he possibly could.
Except… There was only one bed, and there were two of them, and the last person Harry ever wanted to share a bed with was Tom sodding Riddle.
Okay, no, that was a lie. A huge lie.
Only months ago, Harry would have been extremely pleased to be sharing the one bed with Tom, because it would mean a whole night of pleasure and very little sleep.
But not now. Not now when they'd broken up and were only here because their best friends were getting married and they were the best men; Tom for Lucius and Harry for Hermione, who'd forgone the tradition of bridesmaids because the only person she wanted up there with her was Harry.
When they'd booked the hotel, nobody had foreseen that Tom and Harry wouldn't even be able to meet each other's eyes by the time the wedding rolled around.
Nobody had foreseen that the hotel would be fully booked, with no chance for even a bed in a broom closet of a room to be had. Harry would have taken the broom closet.
He'd have taken it happily.
Dropping his bag to the left side of the bed—Tom always slept on the right, and Harry cursed himself for thinking of the man, even now—and sat down in one of the two armchairs. The room was nice, at least, and Harry debated the chair.
It was comfortable enough, and perhaps if he pulled the two of them together, and requested extra bedding from reception, he could make himself a bed on the two of them instead.
He was small enough, he thought.
The thought of waking up in the morning with the chairs split and him hanging between them was putting him off. Not only would it do his back no good, but Tom would find that amusing, no doubt, and Harry was done being the man's entertainment.
It was only two nights, he told himself. And perhaps Tom wouldn't even stay there; he was handsome, there was no doubt in Harry's mind that he could find a willing body to share a bed with elsewhere in the hotel.
The thought made Harry grimace, and he wasn't sure which he'd prefer.
"Putting the chairs together wouldn't be comfortable," a quiet voice told him from the doorway, and Harry startled. He hadn't even heard the door open. "And it's not very sensible either. I know you're small Harry, but you're not that small."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry replied, looking down at his hands.
"Uh huh. Have you been here long?"
"About ten minutes," Harry replied. "I'm going to go and find Hermione. I'm sure she's got ten thousand jobs for me to do. I'll see you later."
Harry got up from the chair and walked towards the door, cursing Tom inwardly when he didn't move away from the door, leaving Harry to skirt around him so that they didn't touch. Harry couldn't handle touching him.
"See you later," Tom replied softly, just as the door closed behind Harry. Pressing his head against the wall, Harry shook his head. This was going to be an unmitigated disaster.
…
The bar was emptying rapidly. Hermione and Lucius had already retired for the night. They weren't bothering to follow the tradition of spending a night apart; Hermione had admitted that neither of them slept well when separated, and she'd rather have a good night's sleep than follow that particular tradition.
Harry ran a finger around the rim of his glass. He wasn't drunk, had switched to lemon and soda after his first couple of drinks. While he'd have loved to get black-out drunk in order to avoid the awkwardness of sharing a bed with his ex, he knew that he was an affectionate drunk, and that was the absolute last thing he needed right now.
Though perhaps if he had gotten drunk, he'd have been able to sleep sitting up in the chair and avoided the bed altogether.
"I'm heading up to bed, are you coming?" Tom asked, leaning against the bar beside Harry. He'd been chatting with some friends of his and Lucius' across the bar all night, and Harry had been spared the awkwardness of sharing conversion, but all of the tension came back full force now.
"In a minute," he replied softly, nodding to the glass that was still half full.
"I'll wait for you," Tom offered.
Harry shook his head. "It's fine. You'll be showering anyway, right?" Tom had always showered at night, and Harry hated himself a little for remembering that.
Tom stared at him for a long moment, and then nodded. "Very well, I'll see you upstairs."
Harry watched him walk away, and then sighed. It was going to be a long night.
…
Changing quickly, Harry listened to Tom puttering around the bathroom. The shower had turned off minutes ago, and it wouldn't be long before the man joined him in the room.
In the bed.
Glad that he'd thought to fetch pyjamas, instead of sleeping in his boxers like he preferred, Harry was dressed and in bed by the time Tom joined him. He'd turned to face the wall, lying as close to the edge as he could without falling off, and he had his eyes closed already.
He put all his focus on his breathing, doing his best to keep it even, even as he felt the bed dip when Tom sat down.
There was movement for a while, as Tom got himself comfortable and turned off the bedside lamp, and Harry tried to ignore that he'd used the same body wash he'd always used when they were together, the scent igniting his body the way it always had when they were together.
It was like a pavlovian response, and Harry wanted even as he didn't.
"Goodnight, Harry," Tom whispered into the dark.
Harry didn't reply. Instead he listened to their breaths filling the silence. He didn't know how long he lay there, unable to sleep. Tom shifted a few times, and Harry wondered if he was asleep. He'd always slept like the dead when they were together, barely moving the whole night.
He wasn't used to Tom being so fidgety.
Harry was just drifting off when he felt a hand on his back, the mattress dipping as Tom rolled towards him, sliding a heavy, warm arm around his waist, pulling him back so he was resting against Tom's chest.
A nose was buried in Harry's hair, and Tom let out a contented sigh before he stilled.
Harry swallowed hard. He knew he should wake Tom up, maybe even reprimand him to stay on his own side of the bed, but he'd missed this so much.
He'd missed Tom.
He always felt safe in Tom's arms, like nothing could possibly hurt him if only Tom kept hold of him. He'd always been possessive and protective, and while some of his friends had asked him how he didn't suffocate under Tom's gaze, Harry had always loved it.
But then, so had the woman he'd slept with while Harry was visiting his godfather.
Harry shifted slightly, trying to pull out of Tom's grasp, but his balance on the edge of the mattress was already precarious, and Tom was showing no signs of letting go.
Giving into the feeling, Harry leant back against Tom's chest and closed his eyes. It was late, and he had to get some sleep if he was to look acceptable for Hermione in the morning. If he showed up with shopping bags beneath his eyes, she'd be furious with him.
He tried to ignore how much it was going to hurt when he left the hotel the morning after the wedding. When he left Tom. Again.
…
The wedding was beautiful. Harry watched on with pride as his best friend married the man she loved, and if he shed a tear, well, he wasn't the only one.
He forced himself to smile for the photos, not wanting to ruin her day, even when she demanded a photo of just Harry and Tom. She'd given him an apologetic look at least, but he knew her, and he knew nothing would get in the way of her having the perfect day.
Honestly, he wouldn't want to. She'd been through a lot to get to this point, and he was truly happy for her.
Happy enough for her that when she dragged him onto the dancefloor, he went willingly. Mostly.
"How's it going with you and Tom?" she asked, the minute they were amongst the crowd on the dancefloor.
He frowned, spinning her out before he pulled her back in. "There's nothing between Tom and I anymore, you know that."
"He didn't cheat on you, Harry," she said softly. "Lucius has been trying to figure it out, and he finally got the full story yesterday. The woman, he'd been with her before, years ago. She threatened to blackmail him, and when he refused to play ball, she came to you instead, and told you that it had happened recently."
Harry shook his head. "It doesn't matter, Hermione. There was time for Tom to tell me the truth, I asked him about it more than once. I didn't just leave him; I didn't want to leave him. He never even denied it."
"Maybe he wanted you to trust him," she suggested, but she looked unsure. "The way he looks at you, Harry… it's… he adores you."
"Then why didn't he fight for me?"
…
"I spoke to Hermione earlier."
Harry glanced over at Tom. They were in the hotel room, having left at the same time. Harry was struggling to get his shoes off; he'd drank considerably more than he had the previous night.
"Can we just not do this?" he requested. "I don't want to end the night by fighting with you over things best left alone."
"I think we have to do it," Tom replied, walking towards the chair, where Harry was sitting. He sat down in the second armchair. "Because you're going to leave here tomorrow, and I don't know when I'll see you again."
"You don't need to see me," Harry burst out. "We're over, we have been for months. What could you possibly have to—"
"I didn't sleep with her when she told you I did. I slept with her before I even met you, and when she wanted more, I told her no and walked away. Before I met you, that was how I worked, Harry. I didn't do relationships. When she heard that I was with you she… let's just say that she wasn't very happy with the news."
Harry, having finally managed to get his shoes off, sat back in his seat and pulled his legs up. Apparently they were having this conversation whether he wanted to or not.
"She told me that if I didn't give her fifty thousand pound, she'd make you leave me. I scoffed at her and told her to fuck off. Nothing she could do would come between us, we were solid weren't we? You wouldn't believe that I'd cheat on you, because you knew you were the only one for me. Hadn't I told you that a thousand times?" Tom looked away. "And then you asked me if she was telling the truth."
Harry swallowed hard. "What would you have done, if someone came to you and told you that I'd slept with them?" he asked. "What would you have done, if they came to you, and described the birthmark on my inner thigh, and the decor in the bathroom that's only accessible from the bedroom that we shared. Would you have immediately known they were lying? Would you not have even questioned it?"
"Harry, I… she knew the bathroom decor?"
Harry nodded. "She even knew the brand of hair gel that was in there. My hair gel, Tom."
"I… you didn't tell me that," Tom said softly. "That's a bigger issue, a security issue, because she shouldn't have been able to get into the house. I didn't sleep with her there, even when I did sleep with her before."
Harry just shrugged. He was tired, and he just wanted to go home and pretend that the time in the hotel hadn't ever happened.
"Harry, I didn't sleep with her. I haven't even looked at anyone else in that way since I met you."
Harry blinked. "Even since we—"
"Not since the day I met you."
Harry almost didn't want to believe him, but he did. There was so much sincerity in his voice, and his eyes looked pained in a way Harry had never seen before.
He bit his lip and then shook his head. None of this mattered anymore, and he couldn't let it matter.
"It's late, we've both been drinking. We should just… go to bed."
Tom stared at him for a long moment and then sighed. "As you wish."
…
His head was pounding. He hadn't even opened his eyes to the hell that was the morning light, but he already felt awful. He blamed the hangover for the fact that he didn't notice his pillow was moving until he'd been awake for about five minutes.
Pillows weren't supposed to move.
He forced his eyes open, wincing at the subdued light in the room, even though it wasn't that bright. It didn't take him long to realise why his pillow was moving; his head was settled on Tom's chest. He also had one leg thrown over Tom's thigh, and his arm over his stomach.
Apparently Tom wasn't the only one that migrated across the bed when he was asleep.
Shifting, Harry looked up to see that Tom was already awake.
"Sorry," he murmured, attempting to pull away from where he was lying. Tom's hands stopped him, gentle but firm, one on the back of his head to guide him back down to Tom's chest, and the other on Harry's arm on his stomach.
"Don't be," Tom replied. "It's still early, you should go back to sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up."
"We've got to be at the brunch—"
"It's not for hours yet," Tom promised. "Go back to sleep, Harry."
Harry thought about refusing, but he was comfortable and Tom's fingers in his hair were doing wonders for his headache. He closed his eyes and let himself fall into a doze, his focus on Tom's hands.
He was playing with the strands of Harry's hair with one, and tracing nonsensical patterns on Harry's arm with the other. It felt so good, and Harry felt a little bit guilty for enjoying it so much.
When he woke up again, a little while later, Tom was still awake but his hands had stilled.
"Do you remember what I said last night?" he asked, when he felt Harry shifting.
Harry nodded. "I wasn't that drunk, Tom."
"And yet, you remain firm that we must stay separated, despite neither of us doing any wrong?" Tom asked. "Why are you punishing us both, Harry?"
"It's not about punishment," Harry said, sitting up. "It's… you didn't even deny it. How can you say that you love me when you're not even willing to fight for me?"
"Would you have listened if I'd denied it?" Tom asked, arching his eyebrow. "As I remember it, you were quite sure that Bellatrix was telling the truth."
Harry sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. "I need to go and get a shower. How long do we have before brunch?"
"An hour," Tom said, looking away. He looked frustrated, and Harry bit his lip, feeling bad. He wasn't trying to frustrate Tom, he just… he wasn't sure he trusted himself anymore.
Lying on Tom, sharing a bed, being near him in general, had brought back the strength of all the feelings he still had for the man, but Harry refused to be anyone's doormat.
He couldn't just pretend like nothing had happened and he knew how easy it would be to just kiss Tom and ignore his own doubts about their relationship.
Leaving the bed, he grabbed his wash bag and fresh clothes, and locked himself in the bathroom.
He just had to get through today, and he could go home and… be on his own, he supposed.
Tom-less once more.
The idea didn't fill him with any kind of joy.
…
"He's fired, and he'd better hope he never comes across me again, Rabastan, make sure you tell him. Only my respect for you is stopping me from coming after him with the full force of my lawyers."
Harry frowned slightly, as he left the bathroom. Tom was on the phone, already dressed, and he looked furious.
Harry was almost packed by the time he ended his call and threw his phone on the bed with somewhat excessive force.
"Are you… okay?"
"Bellatrix had been sleeping with Rodolphus, one of my security team," Tom said, running a hand through his hair. "That's how she got access to the bathroom."
"I… oh."
Tom just looked at him. "Harry, I…" He shook his head. "I am not a man who gets refused often. You… When you questioned me, I reacted badly, and I lashed out at the lack of trust, but I should have talked to you. I should have been… better. I'm sorry."
Harry nodded, not really sure what to say.
"I love you," Tom said, stepping towards Harry. "I have loved you since the day I first saw you at Lucius' engagement party, and I haven't stopped. If anything, I love you more now than the last time I spoke to you. I suppose there's something to the adage that absence makes the heart grow fonder. If there's a way that you'll take me back, I need you to tell me, because living without you is untenable."
He reached out a hand for Harry,and after only a minor hesitation, Harry slipped his hand into the offered one. Tom tugged him closer, gently, always gently.
"It's not that I don't love you, Tom," Harry admitted. "I just… don't trust myself anymore. I believed her and I shouldn't have, but you didn't give me any reason not to. What happens the next time a crazy ex shows up?"
"I like to think I learn from my mistakes, Harry. It won't happen again," Tom said, and it sounded like a promise.
Harry stared at him for a long minute, and then sighed. "A date?" he offered. "I'm not saying we have to start completely fresh but… I'm not just going to move back in. We should… we should date."
Tom nodded and then his lips tilted up, as he closed the last bit of a gap between them. "Do I have to wait until that date to kiss you?" he asked, his fingers tracing Harry's cheek. "Because it's been entirely too long since I've kissed you, My Harry."
Harry smiled slightly and pressed up on his toes to press his lips to Tom's.
When they parted, Tom pressed their foreheads together.
"I love you, Harry Potter."
Harry smiled. "I love you too."
Written For:
Valentines or Palentines: Day 7: OTP Prompt: HarryTom
Alphabetti: I: "In a minute."
365: 97. Hoax
Musical Yearly: 51. Alternative: I Predict a Riot: It's not very sensible either
Insane House: 100. Navy
