"Harry speaking…" Harry drawled, the phone had rung, and while he hadn't much experience with muggle things, he knew how to pick up a phone. Dresden, after all, hadn't told him not to.
"You're not Harry." A male voice states, very clearly.
"Uh, I am actually, fair sure of it." Harry smiles as he speaks, having a bit of fun with this stranger. This is, at least, not as boring as "house sitting" where in the wards of the house were actually watching you.
"Right…" Bland and yet somehow very angry, as if Harry were threatening someone: Harry rolls his eyes.
"Tell Harry that Thomas is on his way." The phone clicks, leaving Harry looking at the receiver.
"Right. Anger management, look it up." He tells the room at large. It's no wonder that Harry's thoughts linger on that strange phone call, there is nothing at all to do in Dresden's apartment – no cleaning, the little "brownies" (as Dresden calls them, Harry knows they are shy House Elves) do that, and no magic-making, as Dresden took away his wand – and the downstairs is all locked up with the skull and it's glowing green eyes guarding it.
Harry has an aversion to that skull, if only because it's freaking creepy – and one of Voldemort's old symbols.
He swears the skull – Bob leers at him. Dresden's only word on that had been – you get used to it.
Harry didn't really want to get used to it.
Then the knocking started. Harry – because Dresden hadn't said not to – answered it. And found him self kidnapped: or rather, a pale hand had grabbed his wrist – jerking him out of Dresden's protective wards and into the arms of the vampire who had Harry pinned now to the ground.
"You're pretty." Harry says, because he has to – he feels like he has a school boy crush. Physically though, he wants: it's pure and simple, no matter his feelings. He swallows, because he knows what this sort of vampire is: incubus.
"White Court, damn…" Harry lets his body go lax, because he's a wizard and no match for the physical strength that this vampire could be using. His best bet is to stay low until he's under estimated. Harry really wishes not to be seen as a threat. To be otherwise, and this vulnerable, would be dumb indeed. Dumb as in dead.
"Where is Harry?" Dark haired, long jawed and snarling – there is something familiar about this one, though Harry hasn't seen anyone one so lovely. Harry blinks up at the incubus, and smiles as if drugged.
"Right here..." Said lovely incubus hisses, using his inhuman strength to pick up and slam Harry into the door step. Harry sees stars, but he also sees someone could save him.
"Where is Harry Dresden?" Frustration doesn't make an incubus happy – hell, it doesn't make Harry happy – and he's a wizard and wants, and Harry uses pain to his own advantage, smiling up at the pretty incubus, his eyes clear instead of dazed by lust.
"Behind you." The vampire incubus goes still, becoming aware of the jab of a wizard's staff at his lower back.
"Get off him." Harry hasn't heard Dresden that furious, ever. Pain makes Harry blink his eyes, they are wet. He didn't think anyone would ever give so much of a damn as that since Voldemort fell.
"Harry?" Gorgeous looks over his shoulder, nervous.
"Thomas! What the hell?" Dresden sounds surprised, which isn't like him at all – Dresden has been in more magical and street fights then Harry, but Harry knows more and finer magic. This isn't magic the vampire is using; he's made who he is very obvious.
"Former lover..?" Harry quips, he's gotten hurt over this, so yes he can be bitter it's only because he hadn't been properly warned. Mockingly, Harry lets his body do as it's been wanting to, relax as if into an offering. If this is the only introduction he's getting, Thomas will damn well remember it.
Thomas, an incubus, feeds on feelings; he hovers over Harry – caught between the two, to do what Dresden asks, or what Harry feels - and very slowly gets up, reluctant to leave Harry laying there.
"No." Dresden rolls his eyes, showing more trust in Thomas in those few seconds then Harry has right to be jealous of.
"Big brother." Thomas says very softly, as if he can excuse how rough he's been with how gentle he makes his voice. Harry lets his eyes rove over him, in a way that makes Dresden scowl.
"Harry Potter." He winks with grin, there is a pink tinge to Thomas's cheeks – and he looks confusedly between Harry and Dresden.
Dresden shrugs, with a look to Harry who lay prone at their feet. Harry, just to be difficult, makes no motion to move.
"He came out of my fireplace." Dresden then sort of shrugs with one shoulder, offering the end of his wizard's staff for Harry to use to get up with: it's a gesture he doesn't think twice upon. It's what gives them away. Thomas's eyes are wide, for while there is little commonly known among magical folk – it's that you either are lover or blood to touch what is keyed to another's magical nature. It's dangerous, but Harry doesn't hesitate to take the wizard's staff and stand. The tingle of energy freely given and gained tingles like sparks on his fingertips.
"Pleased to meet you." Harry says in the end, because he is.