What stood out to Harry wasn't the way Tom would kiss him; but rather, how Tom would cup him as if he was water from a stream. That could spill at any moment and it'd be a wonder if Tom could catch him. Uncertain if he'd leave or if he read this quite differently, that Harry nuzzled to his palm and nibbled with his teeth that Tom had read this just right.

Prompt: defying catholic guilt Hypocrisy at its finest was a pungent red candle, burning quid after quid and smoldering the wealth into something palpable for a deity that man had created.

Tender NSFW There were a few things as delicious and as supple as that sound, the sound of Harry when he unfurled and slouched to Tom's touch. That maybe the only thing that could top it was knowing he had prompted it and that no one else ever would as Tom indulged him with his thumb.

Everyone had a smile that befitted their character — whether wide, narrow, a bit or a lot of teeth, strained, natural, crooked or straight, dimpled, no-dimples, and a whole host of other things like toppings to choose from when you acknowledged with your lips. And while he knew this as a truth and could garner from a stare, he couldn't help but be enamored with what he found here.

While curled near the fire and cushioned beneath the night, Harry's caught between the arms and all the fondness of his delight.

They say that lightning never strikes the same area it does twice, so perhaps he's rather lucky that it's landed every time — here: on his spine, on his neck, on his lines, in his hair, down his cheeks, and cupped within a heartbeat.

8th Year AU HP Character Study Sandwiched in autumn, but still in the heat of summer, September 1st was a day of first and especially for a young wizard. As he itched from his trainers and left these behind, as he wandered to the lake and marveled at the sight — knowing this year would be normal and with no monsters for him to fight.

Muggle/Ballet AU Though this lasted for only a moment, it seemed longer while in the thick of it: as at ease and body sculpted, shoulder searching for its other, he hoisted him with just a look and soon dared him to come closer. And coming quickly, Harry did — veering nowhere but to his hands, and then leaping into the air from all the momentum at his hips.

AU Quidditch World Cup Spending Time Together, Established Relationship He couldn't tell if he was in love, but he could mention he was curious. And that there was a tender little question he couldn't help but want to figure because its answer was right there — staring fondly back at him.

EWE Post-Hogwarts Non-canon Compliant If this were adapted from a fairytale, then Sleeping Beauty was a man: a man plastered to his couch while reading the Daily Prophet, having had a delicious dinner and a game of wordplay with his husband.

7th Year AU Parseltongue worldbuilding "There are a few words he can identify. There are a few of which he understands. Especially when Harry hears them, rolling softly from the other's lips: the annoyance, the pleasure, the pride, the admittance, the aversion, the penchant, and every version of his name."

It took a minute for him to stutter, and then another for him to fall. He backed into the tiles and thought of Harry through it all.

It's the afternoon when he creeps in, when he settles into Harry's arms — collapsing to his chest and finding comfort within his warmth. That he snuggles himself in and breathes all he is, pillowed by a heart that has always had room for him.

Slytherin Harry Potter x Dramatic Tom Riddle Hogwarts Era If he had to pinpoint a single moment where he knew he was in trouble, Harry would show you his memories of all the laughter he's heard from Tom.

As if peel after peel of an orange being slivered, being thumbed from its seams before offered to the earth — there was the sunrise on the horizon and it was plump and full of warmth. But when it came to tasting, it wasn't as sweet as the smile on Harry's lips.

It's part of the routine to wake up early and to rise before dawn, to silently get ready and be toeing out to head to work. But it's six or six-thirty and Harry doesn't want to move, too content with where he is and up to his arms with a certain someone.

When there's a phrase too heavy and too frightening for him to say, Tom finds better words to admit how he feels.

A good book is a fine book, no matter how many times he's come to read it. But a good book becomes a great one when he's as captivated with the empty spaces. Because from there, he's allowed to wander — allowed to savor with what he's read; rolling the taste of it beneath his fingers and committing to memory of how it feels.

Taking to the skies, Harry shifts into his animagus form and enjoys a brief, eventful adventure along the Welsh coast.

It's said that time heals all wounds; but in reality, it marinates it. Because whenever you're feeling happy, fear isn't far behind it.