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A/N: I am so baffled with the amount of reviews that I received in the small year that I have been away. Thank you all so very much, for not forgetting me. Truth to be told – I kind of lost my passion for fanfiction, and then I started working again, and then I was introduced to Aion... I just don't have enough hours in one day, to post something frequently. But you have begged me to come back and you have asked me to finish stories so I will see what I can do.

Please do not repost, recreate or translate.

Su mmary Having had his mind, body and soul sold to a demon lord by his parents, Harry is struggling to accept the life he must now live. He will learn that being Tom Riddle’s pet means having a life of pain, pleasure and wealth beyond measure.

Warnings: AU, demon!Tom, abuse, angst, innocence/virginity kink, oral, anal, fingering, comeplay, dominance kink, masturbation

'Isolated from the outside, clouds have taken all the light

I have no control - it seems my thoughts wander off to the time when I tried to live life without you
If being myself is what I do wrong then I would rather not be right 
Hopes turned into fear and with my one wing I can’t fly with sunrise 
Embrace my dreams tight and that’s why -

To a place without fear with no moonlight, all I need are trees and flowers and some sunlight 
When memories are being made and where the old one dies - where love aint lies
Birds falling down the rooftops, out of the sky like raindrops 
No air, no pride, that’s why birds don’t fly'

The melancholy, piercing sound of an opera singer's voice crooning an old Latin song appeared to be bouncing off the walls, accompanied by a soft whimper every now and then.

There wasn’t enough light to make every detail of the artworks surrounding the two men visible, but different patterns of yellow and orange danced from the fireplace onto the white ceiling and that was an almost artistic display by itself. The room with its lush chairs, soft rugs and burning candles was so beautiful and serene that it could easily be mistaken for a painting... But looks could be deceiving and beauty did not always accompany all that was good.

‘You attempted to escape my private estates twice this week, you attacked one of my servants with a butterknife, you tried to drown yourself in a bathtub and you have been refusing to eat for a couple of days now.’

The boy kneeling on the floor said nothing in reply to these accusations. One may think he was a criminal, a mad man, because all of the above was true... Yet the boy had lost grip on reality a long time ago and everything that would seem like madness to you, was normal to him.

There was blood oozing from a cut on his forehead into his eyes and his vision was swimming no matter how furiously he blinked, his hands bound tightly behind his back. His Master leaned back in his armchair and kept staring, his gaze relentless as he absentmindedly swirled his drink in his glass. It looked like wine but they both knew it was something else, something more precious.

It was blood.

‘Why is it that every time I allow my attention to slip just a little bit, you find new ways to put my good-natured kindness to the test?’

The boy again did not speak and the other male grew irritated. He was well-known for his short temper, his boundless rage and the consequences it brought with itself. This man was anything but good-natured. He was evil at its purest, a demon who enslaved people for his own benefits.

‘I apologize, my Lord,’ the boy whispered, his voice raw and foreign to his own ears for he had not spoken in a long time, ‘it appears my family forgot to teach me how to grovel at pompous bastard’s feet like a bitch in heat.’

The slap came hard but not unexpected and he inhaled a sharp breath. Harry knew this was nothing compared to what his demon lord could do. He’s heard the screams. He knew that Tom Riddle ate the souls of children when they were at their purest. He was very much aware of the rules – aware that his parents had sheltered him, secretly been preparing him for battle, told him that if he would manage to kill Tom Riddle before turning sixteen he wouldn’t have to give his soul to the demon lord.

He had run out of time. Of course he had.

Harry's parents, Lily and James Potter, had been desperate to save the life of their firstborn child when they found out his heart was dysfunctional, and then Tom Riddle had shown up with Lord Voldemort as his name, stating that he would heal their child if only they would give their child to him when the child would reach the age of sixteen. Tom Riddle had been persuasive and told them tales of his private estates, but none about how he wasn’t human, about what really happened behind closed doors.

They had said yes and now Harry was stuck here, enslaved yet strong-willed, tortured yet not broken. Not yet. Not truly.

‘I could have killed them, Harry,’ the demon lord said, for he went by many names but it would never change his core, ‘I could have slaughtered them like pigs, tortured them for their insolence. But out of the kindness of my heart, I took their only son instead.’

‘I did not know kindness could be found in the deepest, darkest of nasty pits,’ Harry mumbled demurely, looking the male in the bright blue eyes and knowing that their true color was blood red, ‘learn something new every day, don’t we, Tom?’

This time Harry did anticipate pain, another slap in the very least, but all it surprisingly caused was the narrowing of Tom’s eyes. Tom leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his lips pressed into a thin line. His skin was so pale that it seemed like he was glowing in this weak light. Harry would like to say that there were signs of Tom losing control over himself, that his true pale, baldheaded and ugly self would show but the thing which was perhaps most frightening about Tom was that he was unpredictable.

‘Why is it you insist on being insufferable?’ Tom asked, his lips shaping the words so nicely. Harry studied his face and knew that he would’ve been able to fall in love with Tom, if only Tom’d been human, if only he’d been good. Just his face alone was something worth dying for.

Too bad Harry wasn’t ready to die just yet.

‘That’s the only way for me to maintain my dignity, or in the very least my sanity,’ Harry answered truthfully. The cut on his forehead was throbbing – he would need medical help soon. He was starting to feel dizzy and Harry feared he was going to pass out. Unlike his Master, Harry himself was still very much human.

Oddly Harry was not afraid of being unconscious around the demon lord. Harry reckoned that if Tom wanted to hurt him he would’ve done so a long time ago and would want Harry to be conscious for it too.

‘Boy, you lost that the moment you took your place at my feet.’

There was such misguided confidence in that statement that Harry couldn’t help but laugh. Tom merely watched him, calculating, almost curiously so. Sometimes Tom possessed an almost childlike awe to things that were so normal for humans – emotions were interesting to him, and Harry thought to himself that his own moodswings must be fascinating. Harry could go from suicidal to vengeful in mere seconds, laugh and then cry just at a snap of fingers.

Harry was losing it. Isolation was not good for the human mind.

‘Alas, master.’ There was always a certain way Harry pronounced that last word, that made it seem mocking and almost an insult. It had infuriated Tom at first but Harry thought that by now Tom had learned to accept it and acknowledge it as something that along with Harry’s defiance he couldn’t beat or cut or choke it out of him. ‘I kept it since I do not serve my parents’ debt on my hands and knees.’

Harry’s breath was coming out ragged now but he still kept looking up. Still refused to back down.

However much Harry hated Tom, it was true though. Never had Tom touched Harry in that way – tainted the virginity he had requested Harry’s parents to ensure Harry would keep. He said that innocent souls tasted best, that Harry’s soul was waiting to be devoured, but never did he make any attempts at taking even a little bite.

All he did was feed Harry and keep him around, and punish him when he’d step out of line.

‘Don’t give me any ideas,’ Tom murmured. He seemed distant all of a sudden as his gaze flicked to the fireplace, his expression thoughtful. He was no longer interested in Harry and Harry was uncertain if he should feel insulted or relieved.

Harry followed Tom’s line of vision and wished he had more reason to hate Tom. Harry wished he could hate Tom for saving Harry’s life when he was a child for his own gains, Harry wished he could hate Tom for making his parents give Harry up and he wished he could hate Tom for the beating that he endured yet at the same time Harry knew that Tom never hit or insulted him unless provoked. He kept Harry well-fed and clothed, he got Harry educated, and that in itself was an insult. Tom was doing nothing to make Harry hate him. Essentially Harry’s parents had sold Harry to this demon and that was the truth. Harry knew he could be doing a lot worse.

All the bad things that Tom had done, they were caused, not started by Tom. His parent's cries had summoned him. Harry's defiance had earned Harry his bruises.

Harry wore his bruises proudly like a tiger wore its stripes.

This was twisted and Harry was confused and angry. He felt betrayed by his parents, for their expectations of a mere child actually being capable of killing an ancient demon lord but even more so, for giving Harry hope. At least Tom was vile but not without (in Tom’s own eyes, right) reason towards Harry.

‘Your thoughts are so loud they could wake the dead,’ Tom mused. Harry shrugged weakly. Tom had the nasty habit of reading Harry's mind too, something that Harry had never deemed possible... Perhaps that was one of the many reasons why Tom always managed to get what he wanted. Fighting someone who could already sense all of your emotions and musings was stupid. Harry was predictable to Tom.

‘I feel more compelled to listen to you when you’re silent,’ Harry said but not with any malice. He sought for ways to hear Tom breathe, waited for him to cough or clear his throat but none of that ever took place and it was because Tom was not human.

Harry could feel his body sagging and he was once more painfully reminded of how he himself  was  human. He still needed food and water and sleep, Harry still loved and missed his family.

Tom had none of that.

‘Do you think those thoughts in my presence on purpose?’

Harry looked at Tom. Sometimes he forgot about Tom's abilities though. Every time he ate a soul, he gained that person's talents, and would be able to shape himself into that person's appearance. The face Tom wore most was the one he had right now - blue eyes, defined cheekbones, soft lips and a perfect jawline with soft parted curls on top of his handsome head. Harry mourned for the poor beautiful boy Tom had consumed, and wondered what he had done to cross this demon's path and what talents Tom had stolen from him.

‘Do you induce those thoughts in my mind on purpose?’ he countered. There was a brief quirk at the corner of Tom’s mouth but then it was gone again. He motioned with his fingers and the binding around Harry’s wrists loosened.

‘Evil is not born, Harry. It is created.’

Tom sat down on his haunches and tilted Harry’s chin up, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled the scent of the blood caking on Harry’s face. Head wounds always tended to bleed more and Tom ran a finger through the blood, before licking it clean.

But it didn’t make Harry feel violated and he wondered why.

‘Propriety is something of the past centuries. Pleasure is everything, and prudence is only going to get in the way.’

Harry didn’t know how to reply to that.

Tom leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Harry’s bleeding wound, and it slowly sealed itself shut into a neat, lightningbolt shaped scar.

Some days Harry was unsure if he was actually still alive, for he had been forced to enter the demon realm, and everything seemed so very dead around him.

The skies were a bloody shade of red, the grass was dry and brown. Nothing was like it was supposed to be and Harry wondered to himself how he should ever feel at home at a place like this, only to realize that he was not meant to feel at home in the first place.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to feel a breeze on his skin but he felt nothing. There was no wind, no rain, no moon and no sun... Only dark clouds and sadness.

Harry tried to envision sitting in this gazebo in the real world. He tried to imagine the mansion in the human world and knew that he would’ve been able to enjoy the riches more there. If this had been the place Harry had grown up in the skies would’ve been bright blue, as he remembered that it had been midsummer when he had been taken away and it couldn’t have been that long since he had been here.

Harry remembered the smell of the grass that grew on their lawn. He remembered the taste of homemade apple pie and the smell of his mom’s perfume.

He just wanted to go home. He wanted his mom and dad.

Harry sobbed and wrapped his arms around himself. He felt cold, like he was the only person on earth. Was he even on earth? It felt like he’d been thrown into a bottomless pit, endlessly falling and falling...

‘How sweet, the taste of teenage agony,’ a voice said and Harry froze and sniffled, his eyes wide behind his glasses. He knew that voice and he felt dread fill him up.

He expected a touch, but all Tom did was stand right next to him and gaze out upon his garden. Harry would have preferred bleeding before him – this felt too intimate, and he definitely felt too vulnerable right now. Hot tears rolled persistently down his face, a tremor in Harry's lips. He felt so pitiful, so torn.

‘If I had wanted to kill you I would have done so a long time ago,’ Tom said, glancing at Harry from the corner of his eye. Harry swallowed thickly and quickly averted his gaze as he blinked and wiped his tears away. He choked back a sob when Tom’s fingers brushed over the back of his head and he whined in weak protest when Tom made it so that Harry’s head was resting against his hip, his hair being pet like a dog. ‘This is your home now, there’s no other place you ought to desire to be instead.’

‘What do you want from me?’ Harry asked in genuine confusion, borderline desperately so. Tom just hummed, obviously not interested in answering. He listened to the dead silence that seemed to stretch on endlessly instead, occasionally broken by one of Harry's hitched breaths. For as much as Harry hated it... Tom touching him slowly like this was somehow comforting him. He closed his eyes and pressed his face harder into Tom's side, ashamed, but seeking more comfort all the same.

Harry wondered if Tom maybe only sought out companionship.

Tom didn’t argue that.

In the days that followed, Tom kept seeking Harry out. Harry didn’t know why, often Tom would not even talk to him and just sit near Harry and card his fingers through Harry’s hair instead. Harry was unsure if Tom was trying to lure him into a fake sense of comfort, or if Tom was just genuinely bored.

What worried Harry more was that he was starting to desire Tom's presence too. Without anyone else to interact with, Harry was often left to his own thoughts... And his mind could be a dangerous place with destructive musings. Harry had been staring out into nothing when the bedroom door creaked open and Tom walked in, Harry's body comfortable but restless in the chair he was seated in. This day, Harry’s stomach clenched when he saw a grin on Tom's face.

Tom beckoned Harry closer with the crook of a long, elegant finger and by now Harry knew better than to disobey. His body rose almost robotically and besides, there was no shame in simply stepping closer to this man right?

Harry paused.

Actually, there was, wasn’t there? Harry worried his bottom lip between his teeth and mulled this over. He just didn’t know anything for sure anymore. A part of him still hated Tom yet another part of himself wanted to understand him...

‘Stop thinking so loud,’ Tom chastised and Harry licked his lips and looked at the male. For the first time he had nothing witty to say. He had referred to Tom as a man and not a demon, that was a shock in itself.

Harry walked until his bare toes brushed against the front of Tom’s shiny, polished shoes. Many men and women alike would wash Tom’s feet with their hair if they’d must.

Harry hadn’t reached that point and probably never will.

Tom smirked and brushed his fingers through Harry’s hair again, knowing Harry’s innermost thoughts and musings. Tom was the only person who knew Harry best because he knew everything. Harry’s fears, secrets, desires... It was frightening.

‘I brought you a treat from the human world.’ Harry perked up at that, but then his shoulders slumped again at the thought of his parents. Tom instantly gripped his chin and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in disapproval. ‘Stop that.’

‘I wish I could,’ Harry truthfully said. ‘But truth is, no matter how much I try to deny the people who are in my heart, all my heart does is keep beating and thriving in spite of how much pain or sadness that causes me. I think that’s just basic human nature for you.’

Harry looked up into Tom’s eyes. Tom’s expression was a mask of indifference, as always. Or maybe he really just didn’t care about anything except for his own entertainment…

‘Close your eyes,’ Tom stated, much to Harry’s surprise and slight dismay. He swallowed - his adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he considered Tom for a moment.

‘Close them, before I poke them out,’ Tom threatened. Knowing what he was capable of, Harry was too fearful to lose his sight to deny him. He closed his eyes, expecting anything. From pain to discomfort – but not a soft caress against his lips.

Harry’s eyes snapped open on their own accord and they crossed in an attempt to see, but all he saw was Tom’s face, so very close, and he realized Tom was kissing him.

That was Harry’s treat. A  kiss .

Harry noticed with a startle that that red blur in front of him were Tom’s real eyes gazing at him expectantly and he pulled away, rubbing at his mouth while his face turned a dark shade of pink.

‘W-What the hell?’ Harry stammered. He was not intending on being rude or disrespectful in all honesty but he was confused, and oddly afraid. This was personal on a whole new level and being beaten up by Tom and being left bleeding and broken on the marble floors in a random chamber in the manor would make Harry feel less vulnerable than being so confronted with his own inexperience. He had just gotten his first kiss.

Harry swallowed thickly and licked his lips, suddenly feeling as though they were dry.

‘It’s called a kiss. Humans give it to each other,’ Tom explained as though it should be obvious. Harry stared at him as though he had grown a second head.

It was true that humans gave each other kisses. But did Tom really know what a kiss entitled? That it could mean comfort,  friendship, love ? That the location and the duration of the kiss could imply whatever the underlying meaning is?

‘Aren’t treats for good pets?’ Harry dumbly asked, trying so desperately to grasp the wit he had not so long ago. It was just a kiss, but Harry was just a boy struggling with his sexuality and situation, and his parents had taught him that his virginity was something he always ought to protect because Tom had wanted it to remain intact. Receiving a kiss was just not done.

The only one who had ever kissed him was his mother, on his cheek. And his dad when they said goodbye.

Tom hummed.

‘In a sense you are. You give me a good distraction of this drab, daily life,’ Tom absentmindedly said as he ran his fingers through Harry’s locks of hair once more.

Harry stared at Tom with a look of confusion in his eyes, trying to find in his expression if his lips were made out of poison or something terrible. Tom didn’t seem suspicious. He almost seemed melancholy as he gazed at Harry.


Even demon lords could get bored, then. Harry had not been expecting that.

Tom did not dance.

He did not sing, did not even drum his fingers or hum to the opera music he had grown so attached to. He showed no real emotion besides anger, and he never really did show what he’s passionate about.

But lately, Harry’s noticed that Tom did swirl his fingers over the rim of his crystal glasses out of which he drinks his wine – blood – from. He did close his eyes to  enjoy  the music and he did smile every now and then when he read one of his books. There were just little mannerisms had, that made Tom seem less of an entity and more of a person.

It made Harry wonder if maybe Tom wasn't a soulless monster after all.

‘Master,’ Harry murmured softly, only his head peeking out through the door. He did not know why but he felt drawn to Tom’s chambers this evening and it lead him to knock too.

Tom’s chambers were lush. Dark sheets, a bed tall enough to make Harry struggle to climb onto it, if he was instructed to do so. The curtains where thick and matched the sheets.

‘Can’t sleep?’ Tom merely said in retort without looking at him. He was reading a thick book and Harry felt small and vulnerable all of a sudden, like a child. He remembered having nightmares as a child, or hearing a thunderstorm and being scared, and crawling into bed with his mom and dad. He suddenly remembered how his mom had held him tightly and sometimes cried into his hair.

Harry now realized that she’d always known she’d never be able to keep Harry from Tom. Even if she had trained Harry.

Harry opened and closed his mouth. Tom had picked up on Harry’s mixed up emotions once more and Harry was starting to think that it was impossible to truly hide one’s humanity.

‘I – no,’ Harry replied sheepishly, hoping he wasn’t to explain himself any further because Harry simply couldn’t. It wasn’t like he intentionally wanted to disobey that order this time. Words just currently failed Harry.

Tom hummed and merely patted his bed.

Oh. But that wasn’t what Harry came looking for.

‘But I don’t -’

‘I am not asking for sex, I am telling you to sit on my bed.’ Judging from the sadistic smirk on Tom’s face, he knew what Harry had thought about his bed. Face flushing, Harry walked over and pushed himself up with his arms, his upper body pressing face down in the sheets as his legs kicked out behind himself. Tom chuckled and gripped Harry by the hem of his trousers to pull him up.

Harry yelped. Tom just gave him a wedgie.

‘Come, Harry. I will not repeat myself again.’

Harry’s arms shook under his own weight as he pushed himself up, pausing as he met Tom’s eyes. Why did he come here again? Harry wasn’t sure, wasn’t even sure if he should stay. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and then pressed himself up in a sitting position.

‘To- Master,’ Harry started, catching himself on time. Tom just stared with those bright red eyes of his. Harry found they frightened him less than before. ‘I think.. I mean. I’m never going home again, am I?’

Asking about Tom’s actions will be disrespecting him, Harry knew that now. In the time he stayed with Tom (God knows how long, if there’s even a God out there anymore) he had learned how to carefully choose his own words.

‘I am intending on keeping you, yes,’ Tom stated. Harry swallowed and nodded. He should’ve known – why did it still hurt to hear he’ll never see his dad’s face? Hear his mom's voice?

‘Then what purpose do I serve here?’ Harry asked, the kiss full in his mind. It couldn’t have been a loving kiss. Maybe Tom was trying new ways of torturing Harry – by reminding Harry of the things he had been forced to leave behind, and will never have or see. Harry wanted to keep from raising his voice, keep from getting frustrated and breaking every item in the room.

It was getting harder with every second that passed.

‘Am I just here to be punished for being born? You don’t hit me unless I break your rules, you feed me, you clothe me, you treat me almost as well as my mom and dad did and you’re not barking orders at me anymore and you kissed me – if I’m not a slave then what in God’s name am I to you?’

‘There is no God here,’ Tom calmly stated as if he could not hear Harry’s thoughts of wanting to shake Tom and escape and never come back again. Harry’s head turned to stare at the window while he mentally tried to count to ten. For the first time since he was made to stay here, he felt like actually punching Tom square in the jaw and he knew it will be worth all the torture, maybe even having his soul finally getting eaten.

Harry paused.

His soul. Of course. Tom had wanted Harry to remain pure, to never be touched by another man or female. He had wanted Harry to remain a virgin until Tom would claim him. Harry was to remain innocent and never hurt anything. To never sin.

Tom just wanted Harry’s soul to be at its purest. And then he’d eat it.

Harry forced himself to stop thinking before Tom could read his thoughts again but it was too late – Tom gripped his chin (like last time) and gave Harry a dangerous look (unlike last time).

‘Master, I -’ Harry tried, but Tom didn’t listen. He pulled Harry close again and kissed him, this time with his mouth open and his tongue caressing Harry’s questioning mouth.

This time Harry kissed him back.

After this, Tom no longer stayed around Harry nor did he request ( order ) Harry’s presence. Harry could almost say Tom was childishly avoiding him, but he knew the demon lord never acted without reason.

Harry did not seek him out. The demon lord had taken Harry’s first and second kiss. Harry wasn’t as untainted as he used to be. He might have maintained his innocence after the first kiss because he’d been confused, but the second kiss he had fully returned. His soul was less pure because he wanted to kiss Tom.

Harry still did not understand.

Harry did not ask.

Harry ate by himself nowadays and it wasn’t that strange that his only company was a slave standing in the corner with his head bowed. The boy was maybe just a little bit older than Harry - Harry had noticed him staring at Harry every now and then, and then the boy would look away with a flush on his face. Harry didn't get what he did to induce such a reaction in the boy but he never bothered to find out.

In a random upwelling, Harry asked the young boy, ‘How is Lord Voldemort doing?’

The slave looked at him with a bland expression and shrugged, already too broken down to even resist or bother asking why Harry would care in the first place. Harry sometimes wondered what Tom did to the slaves, and often wished he could change these souls’ fate.

‘I heard he has claimed a young girl's soul. The way he was to claim you.’

Harry opened and closed his mouth, unsure why he felt confused rage.

Harry laid awake that night, staring at his ceiling, when his door creaked open.

At first he did not respond even if he should. He was struck by the strange feeling in his gut and Harry did not realize that this too was another sin he had comitted. Above lusting for Tom the way he had that one night, he now felt envy to whomever Tom had apparently claimed. Harry's soul wasn't as pure as it had been when Harry had arrived here and the longer he stayed, the more poisoned it became. Harry wanted Tom to put an end to it already. He felt like a prisoner of war waiting in death row for a crime he never committed.

'I think I have fallen ill,' Tom's voice said from across the room. At first Harry did not want to acknowledge Tom, and silently wondered why he had come to Harry of all people.

Could demons even fall ill?

'That's what I wondered, too,' Tom stated. He sat down at Harry's bedside without invitation and Harry finally turned his head to look at Tom, at his blood red eyes. Tom was tired, somehow. He wasn't bothering to hide his red eyes anymore. 'I think I caught it in your human world. Since I gave you your treat I cannot eat, I cannot sleep, and no matter how much I avoid you and ignore your thoughts, I find my own thoughts constantly evolving around you.'

Harry thought that this must be a cruel joke, for no demon could love.

'Love?' Tom parrotted. Harry scowled – it was really starting to become irritating, that his every thought was exposed to this man.

Demon Harry corrected himself, yet it was of no use. Harry had been starting to see Tom as a person, rather than an entity... Tom did not understand the first thing about human nature but Harry didn't feel like explaining fickle things like love. How could Harry, anyway, if he never had the pleasure of experiencing falling in love in the first place? Harry didn't even understand the first thing about love himself...

'Get out of my head,' Harry demanded meekly, lowering his eyes.

'You get out of mine first,' Tom snarled. Harry didn't know how to reply to that. He hadn't done it on purpose.... Should he apologize nonetheless? Harry hadn't been born a pet, he did not know how to act like one. He still had his pride, he still had his heart... Harry didn't think he'd ever be capable of submitting just because the occasion asked for it.

'I find it odd that you think of me, you were said to have claimed another soul,' Harry found himself saying almost defensively. Tom did not owe Harry a single thing... Harry solely breathed and existed because Tom allowed him to. That's it.

The thought was depressing.

'You cannot blame a man for needing to eat,' Tom replied simply and Harry winced at that, though he felt a strange sense of relief. Harry swallowed and turned his back to Tom, settling his body in the sheets. He had no wounds, no bruises, no cuts. Harry had been completely untouched these days... Tom had found no reason to beat Harry into submission. Was it because Harry had been submitting more, or because Tom simply lacked the will? Harry couldn't tell but either way, something had changed between the two of them.

'Why are you here, Master?' Harry murmured.

Harry felt the bed dip even deeper and he froze as he realized his master had settled in the bed completely – in the darkness, Harry could see Tom's long legs stretched out, and the covers lifted.

'Your heart is beating so fast,' Tom mused, completely ignoring Harry's question. He did not touch Harry but Harry's body was tense, as if expecting a beating. 'Why do you humans care for emotions, Harry?'

'It's – I don't know,' Harry replied honestly. 'It's in our nature, I guess.'

'What is this love you spoke of?' Tom asked. 'This...  disease  you diagnosed me with?'

'It's not a disease,' Harry argued, though he could not find a better word for it. It would eat at a person, like a parasite, it would make them think things they normally don't... Harry reached up and traced his lips, frowning a bit. Harry had enjoyed that second kiss, and although he was still a virgin...

Harry halted his own musings.

'What's your plan?' Tom said suspiciously, having caught a bit of Harry's thoughts, but luckily, not all. Harry felt himself smile.

'You should try kissing someone else and see if that will make a difference. We both shared our first kiss, maybe that's just it, Master,' Harry murmured. Tom glanced at him from the darkness and then he slowly nodded.

'Yes... Perhaps...'

'May I sleep, Master?' Harry asked, forcing his mind to go back to the pleasant dream he had. Tom hummed and appeared to be less suspicious at that.

'Yes, you may.'

If Harry would lose his virginity, then maybe Tom would not want him anymore. Maybe he'd release Harry. That was what Harry had almost thought in Tom's presence, before he had cut himself off.

Tom laid next to him all night, watching him, and Harry had drifted off and had dreamed of waking up in his old bedroom next to his mom's and dad's.

Harry walked around the halls and tried to find a slave, his heart pounding in his chest, his knees a bit shaky in anticipation. Above anything he has done to defy Tom, he had never had sex with anyone... It had never occurred to Harry.

But now it did because it made sense. If Harry would go through with this Tom would finally have to make his move and this strange dance between them would be ended.

Nevertheless Harry didn't know much about sex. He knew that it involved his...  Penis,  he knew it was something that was supposed to be special (though he couldn't quite make the connection between his penis and the word special) and above all, he knew that it was meant to be something intimate on a level a clueless virgin like himself couldn't possibly understand.

But Harry figured that it couldn't be all that. He didn't get what the big deal was and he probably never would. The thing he had vowed his parents to protect with his life, was the very same thing he'd give to anyone who'd pass him by and was willing to take it.

The thought of doing something that was entirely against the rules was something that made Harry shudder. Tom had never touched Harry in that way – they had kissed, but surely it had meant nothing. Tom was a demon, demons weren't capable of loving...

Harry's fists tightened by his sides and he bit his lip.

There were always slaves working in the kitchen and as Harry walked there he picked out the boy whom Harry had spoken to before. It was a boy with kind yet defeated brown eyes, his chestnut hair flopping on his forehead.

'Hey,' Harry stated. His hands were trembling though he did not know why – the slave boy seemed more terrified than Harry could ever be. 'Can I talk to you?'

Harry didn't understand why but the slaves always listened to him even though Harry's wings had been clipped a long time ago. It therefore wasn't a surprise when the boy nodded his head sadly and followed Harry out into the hallway, where no one could hear him. He looked at Harry expectantly, almost bashfully so.

'I, um.' Harry scratched the back of his head. How did people start this? Did they let it build up, slowly? Because Harry most definitely didn't have the time to take things slow...

'I want to have sex with you,' Harry finished bluntly. The boy's eyes widened and he gasped, but to Harry's relief, he didn't seem disgusted. 'If you don't want to then I'll find someone else – but I  need...  want ...'

Harry didn't actually want to have sex, but he needed things to change. He couldn't bear living a life of uncertainty.

'Will you come to my bedroom with me? You are allowed to turn me down.' A tense silence stretched between the two of them before the slave shyly reached forward and gripped Harry's hand, a nervous smile on his face. He was kind of handsome, Harry mused, someone who Harry could've been friends with... Harry glanced at their interlocked fingers and thought to himself that now wasn't the time to feel like they were moving too fast already. He had to do this.

They walked together in silence and the slave was willing to follow Harry wherever Harry lead him. Harry wondered why... And then he thought to himself that if he would be able to get out, he'd take this boy with him.

He opened the door to his bedroom with trembling fingers and let the slave in first, and then he closed the door behind them. The slave looked at him expectantly like with his brown, puppy eyes and Harry didn't know why but it was heartwrenchingly adorable.

'What's your name?' Harry whispered and the slave opened and closed his mouth. He had probably not been asked this question in a long time.

'I was once called Cedric,' the slave then admitted softly. 'Cedric Diggory...' Harry nodded tightly and then he stepped closer to Cedric. He had to stand on the tips of their toes to even be remotely close to being at eye level with the boy.

'Kiss me,' Harry whispered. He did not know where Tom was but he knew that Tom somehow had linked his mind to Harry's – he could read Harry's every thought and now that Harry was doing something so very much against the rules, he had to hurry up and finish before Tom could come and punish them both.

Cedric seemed amazed and shocked but he nodded curtly and when he took the sides of Harry's face in his hands, the kiss was nothing but sweet gentleness. Harry's stomach didn't twist the way it did when Tom kissed him, all he felt was the warmth of Cedric's mouth and he pressed his body tighter against the male. It didn't have to mean anything, it were probably just nerves...

'Do you want me?' Harry breathed and Cedric nodded. He could feel Cedric's hard manhood press against his stomach already and it was very clear of how much Cedric wanted him.

It just scared Harry a bit.

He had never been one to chicken out but this was so very personal – and he was about to do it with a stranger. He nodded tightly, more to himself than to Cedric, and then he murmured softly, 'then take me'.

Cedric wrapped his arms around Harry and lifted him to the bed where his body bounced once, twice, and when Harry closed his eyes and felt Cedric's lips press persistently against his throat, all he could think of was Tom. Tom would be so upset...

It was an odd feeling when Cedric pulled Harry's shirt up and enclosed his lips around Harry's nipple. Cedric obviously knew what to do so Harry just went with it but he couldn't help but feel that nervous, sinking feeling in his chest again when Cedric's lips mouthed over Harry's clothed cock.

Then, just as Cedric was about to pull Harry's underwear down, the door slammed open and Harry and Cedric both shot up to see Tom standing in the doorway with a  murderous  glint in his red eyes. For a split second it was completely silent and Harry watched in horror as, just when Cedric opened his mouth to speak, Tom sped forward and gripped him by the throat. He did not wait for Cedric to speak – he slammed his head against the wall with a sickening crack and Cedric's body slumped to the floor.

Harry couldn't figure out if that had actually killed the boy.

When his red eyes aimed at Harry, Harry flinched and swallowed thickly. He couldn't manage a blank expression – instead he tried to get up to see Cedric, try to find a way to fix it but when the thought so much as flashed through Harry's mind Tom gripped him by the wrist in a bruising hold and started dragging Harry off, through the hallways in his underwear where several slaves looked at the pair curiously.

It was humiliating.

'Let  go -!'

'You are hardly in the position to demand anything, you fucking  swine . '

Harry had never been called something that degrading before and he cursed in frustration, a part of him in shock.

Tom all but threw him into Tom's bedroom and his bloody red eyes stared at Harry in disdain, before he left and locked the door. He didn't allow Harry to leave the room anymore.

Tom didn't come see Harry for days after this.

In a way it was clever. No physical torture could outweigh mental torture after all, and this time Tom's hands remained clean. Harry was doing this all to himself.

When Harry finally saw Tom again, Tom didn't look at him.

Harry got up to sit on his knees on the bed, watching as Tom turned his back to him and started taking off his cufflinks. His shoulders were tense – he wasn't even bothering with giving Harry any sorts of attention.

This was bad.

Tom had done many things to Harry before, but he had never ignored Harry and this was hard for Harry to deal with. Worries about Cedric still lingered in Harry's mind and images of what had happened just didn't seem to be able to leave the teen.

Opening and closing his mouth, Harry got up from the bed, his bare feet padding in the carpet. He walked until he was right behind Tom and then he lifted a hand only to drop it at his own side again, feeling useless, sad. Tom was loosening his tie and didn't even acknowledge Harry was here. Harry was like a ghost.

'Master?' Harry softly asked. Tom pulled his tie from his neck and then he turned around. His cold eyes regarded Harry for just a second, before Tom walked over to the full length mirror standing in the corner of the room. Never before had he just walked past Harry like this, like Harry was no different from his other servants. Harry just stood there, dumbfounded as he watched Tom unbutton his shirt, getting ready for bed without a doubt.

Harry had wanted things to change but shockingly, he had not wanted things to become so... So  awkward.  Balancing from one foot to another, Harry finally decided to walk up to Tom again, and this time he placed himself in front of Tom.

Tom let his shirt fall to the floor and Harry admired his arms for just a moment, before he sank down on his knees and started untying Tom's dress shoes willingly. It was an offer of peace – and as Harry looked up to Tom hopefully while he eased his right foot out of the shoe, Tom finally looked at him.

Harry forced himself to smile, his small fingers curled around Tom's ankle just briefly before he repeated the same on Tom's other foot. He licked his lips and bowed his head again as he helped Tom out of his socks and then he remained there, on his knees, willingly submissive like Tom had been trying to force him all along.

Harry didn't do this out of fear for Tom or fear for losing his own life. Harry would willingly walk into Death's arms if he would need to – but he could not deal with this. The anger, the disdain, the silent treatment... What Harry had tried to do had not been right, he could see that, but he could not understand why Tom had wanted his virginity so bad.

'I have killed many capable men for less than what you have attempted to do,' Tom mused. His long, spidery fingers rested on the back of Harry's head and the demon sighed, 'but none of them had ever managed to enrage me to this extent.'

Harry didn't open his mouth to speak. He didn't want to apologize because those words would be empty. He had intended on doing that with Cedric and he would have followed through with it if it hadn't been for Tom interrupting.

'Yet here you sit, indeed as I have desired on your knees, and I feel tempted to see what else you may do.'

The implications in that statement were clear as day. Tom knew what Harry had intended on doing with Cedric – and now, he wanted Harry to do it with him instead. Harry's cheeks flushed and he closed his eyes tightly, his face aimed to the floor. He had expected Tom to hit him, torture him.

Not  this .

'My Lord,' Harry whispered uselessly. Tom crouched down and took Harry's chin in between his fingers, looking Harry straight in the eye.

'You intended on letting him fuck you, did you not?'  Fucking . That word was so crude and described an act so raw that it baffled Harry for a moment. His parents had called it sex – it was a short word and somehow less dirty than what Tom had just said. Swallowing thickly, Harry lowered his eyes again only to have Tom narrow his eyes and tighten his grip on him. 'Well?'

'I had – I thought that if I wouldn't be a virgin anymore, you wouldn't want me. That you'd let me go.' But now that Tom had left Harry alone for a few days, Harry had learned that he didn't really want Tom to let him go anymore. Tom had erased the memories Lily and James had of Harry – Tom was all Harry had left.

Feeling tears prickle in his eyes, Harry looked away and pressed his cheek into the palm of Tom's hand. He could feel himself mourn over his parents, over the death of a life that had once been so easy. Harry didn't want to grow up locked between the walls of this beautiful yet terrible place.

'I'm sorry,' Harry finally said and he managed a bitter little smile, rubbing at his eyes. 'I think I'm... I think I got the disease too. And maybe I didn't want you to let me go. Maybe I just wanted you to  see  me.'

Tom took Harry's face in his hands and he studied him from up close, and Harry's hands rested on his wrists.

'Kiss me, please?' he whispered. He just wanted to be held and hear that things would be okay. Tom frowned.

'Treats are for good pets,' he evenly replied and Harry released a shaky, sad breath.

'In a sense I am,' Harry argued. Tom's lips quirked up to that and Harry sadly lowered his eyes. Harry knew now was not the moment to be greedy – Tom was still mad at him after all.

'Then show me how good of a pet you can be.' This time Harry  was  dumbfounded. He had never submitted to anyone like this before... Yet a shiver went down his spine and he swallowed thickly. His body almost appeared to be on autopilot and when Tom rose to his full height, Harry's shaking fingers reached out for the zipper of his pants. Harry had to remind himself that Tom was letting him do this willingly – somehow had manipulated Harry into it, but at the end, Harry could say no. He doubted Tom would ever attempt to rape Harry. He wanted Harry to do this out of free will.

Because that would mean a personal victory to Tom.

Harry took a deep breath through his nose and slowly unzipped Tom's trousers, popping open the button and allowing the fabric to pool around Tom's ankles, on the ground. Harry had never seen another man's cock before and the thought of it oddly scared him. Besides the fact that he was doing this with  Tom,  it felt wrong to be doing this at all. Harry had been freely willing to do this with Cedric because he had thought that it would be different... Harry  wanted  Tom like this. He was breaking his parents' rules.

'You have my permission,' Tom purred and Harry glanced up again. He felt like a ridiculous virgin. How come he had fallen in love with this man of all people? When had this happened? Harry certainly hadn't wanted it to happen...

Nodding tightly, knowing that nothing should matter but Tom's opinion (in this world), Harry pulled down Tom's underwear and was finally faced with Tom's cock.

It looked more aggressive somehow than Harry's – the veins running over it were well defined, the size of it was already more than Harry could take, its tip was red with blood and leaking a bit of precome. When Harry shakily wrapped his hand around it his index finger and thumb wouldn't meet and the flesh felt so  hot  underneath his touch.

Tom watched him patiently, not seeming to mind how Harry took him in with childlike awe at all.

'Um,' Harry started, feeling so awkward and embarrassed to have to ask. 'What do I – what do you want me to...  do ?'

His parents had never even taught him the basics of sex. They had said that it involved everything that was between a person's legs, and had left it at that. The concept of a blowjob was not something Harry knew of.

Tom's spidery fingers ran over the side of Harry's face and he chuckled.

'You're truly clueless,' he mused. 'Odd, how you make me so angry at one moment, and then this... Satisfied at the next. Open your mouth, sweet thing.'


With Tom's hands pressed at the back of Harry's head, Harry opened his mouth and Tom's cock slowly slid in until Harry gagged. He instantly started salivating and tears prickled in his eyes but he stared up at Tom anyway, waiting for any sort of instruction. Tom's cock felt heavy on his tongue and salty on his taste buds, his lips wrapped around the thick member. The corners of his mouth were already stretched further than Harry would expect was possible.

'Now suck it.'

Thrusting loosely into Harry's mouth until Harry caught the hint, he sucked until his cheeks hollowed and slowly started bobbing his head up and down, his tongue licking into the slit of Tom's cock every now and then. There was saliva running down Harry's chin already and he blushed furiously, a soft moan falling from his lips. He could strangely feel his own cock throbbing between his legs and he wondered why this turned him on.

Tom groaned, his nails digging into Harry's scalp.

'That's it,' he hissed, 'good girl.'

Harry whined and tried to argue, but Tom only forced himself deeper into Harry's throat.

'Don't talk with your mouth full.'

Harry lowered his eyes in shame and bobbed his head faster, one of his hands resting on Tom's hip, the other hesitantly coming up to brush over Tom's balls. At this, Tom growled and Harry experimentally rolled them between his fingers only to find that Tom  liked  it.

Tom allowed Harry to pull off his cock now and Harry licked over the length of it as he traced a thick vein which ran from base to tip. It fascinated Harry, how many noises he could make Tom release, and how much pleasure he could induce on another person like this. He had never thought it to be possible but Harry... He oddly found himself enjoying this.

'Of course you do,' Tom breathed, 'you were born for this – to be my little cocksucker...'

Pulling his cock away from Harry's mouth, Tom watched as he rubbed the tip of it over Harry's smooth cheek, a thin trail of precome and saliva left behind on Harry's pale skin. He smirked. 'You look beautiful like this. But I think you'd look even prettier with my come on your face.'

'S-sir?' Harry stuttered, not knowing what Tom was talking about at all. Tom groaned and started jerking himself even harder, Harry's saliva easing his way.

'Tell me to fuck you,' Tom demanded. Harry shivered at the sound of  that  word again.

'F-fuck me,' Harry obediently repeated, and then he added, 'p-please. Fuck me, please.'

Tom released a gutteral noise and Harry gasped as the first strand of  something  hit him straight on the cheek, and Tom shoved his cock back into Harry's mouth and finished off into Harry's mouth. Harry gagged and Tom moaned, slowly fucking his cock back and forth into Harry's mouth, a mixture of come and saliva dripping down Harry's chin, on his lap.

Harry didn't swallow.

He was very much in shock.

Tom dropped to his knees and took Harry's face in hands and this time, the kiss was nothing but dirty. His tongue entered Harry's mouth and he licked out all the come from Harry's quivering lips, and Harry moaned softly when Tom's hand palmed at Harry's clothed cock. The slight pressure and a filthy whisper of,  'You dirty little girl made Harry come into his pants.

When they broke the kiss Harry dropped his forehead against Tom's shoulder and panted, riding the pleasure he had never known to be possible.

Tom and Harry spent more time together after this but this time it wasn't just Tom who sought out Harry's presence.

They ate breakfast, lunch and dinner together. When Harry sat near the fireplace in the living room writing letters he'd never send to his parents, Tom sat in his armchair reading a book. What they shared was a companionable silence and stolen glances at random times, and with Tom giving Harry more attention than usual Harry started allowing himself to feel at home. He would never fo rget his parents, not in the way Tom had forced them to forget about Harry, but the ache gradually lessened into a dull throb every now and then. Harry didn't know how long it had been since he had last seen them. Sometimes it felt like a year - sometimes it felt like a decade already. Time was different in this realm, the days were long and the nights even longer.

They didn't do anything sexual anymore. Sometimes Tom stole a kiss, but that was it.

'To- Master, do you have the time to speak?'

The door creaked open when Harry stepped into Tom's library a few weeks later. Night had fallen a while ago and Tom had put him to bed a few hours prior to this (Harry nowadays slept in Tom's bedroom) but Harry had woken up again, haunted by a feeling of restlessness. In his mind, Harry still referred to Tom as Tom – he called him Master simply because Tom had told him to, a long time ago.

A lot of things had changed and it still made Harry's head spin.

He did not think he could ever forgive Tom for taking him away from his parents, and he didn't want to. At the same time Harry didn't want to live in so much anger and agony anymore... Harry too wanted a life worth living for as much as that was possible.

Tom glanced up, his red eyes glimmering in the weak candle light. His eyebrows knitted together, obviously displeased that Harry had left his bed and Harry supposed he couldn't blame him. Harry still didn't feel like answering to Tom's every beck and call... But Harry supposed that after having spent normal time with Tom, instead of constantly hating him and blaming him for everything that went wrong, Harry was forced to see that Tom wasn't evil.

At least, that's what Tom managed to let Harry think.

'What is it?'

'I couldn't sleep,' Harry started, having a vague feeling of dejavu. Tom leaned back in his chair, his eyebrow cocking up as if saying  And what else? like he didn't already know what more was on Harry's mind. Harry licked his lips and stepped closer to Tom, sinking down in the seat opposed to his. 'And I guess I want to talk.'

He knew Tom was aware of what Harry wanted to talk about, but the man had never bothered to bring it up. It was such an odd thing, how Harry was now used to being comforted by Tom. He should be expecting the opposite from the male...

'Alright,' Tom said and Harry shrugged. The motion was too careless for the subjects Harry wanted to discuss.

'I'm not a complete innocent virgin anymore,' Harry blurted and then he winced. He wasn't of any less worth now that he had experienced some things, but he feared that he was less, to Tom. He wondered why he cared in the first place. Glancing at Tom through his lashes, Harry sighed. 'You wanted me to be a virgin because my soul would be purer and better for you to eat, but you are the one who made me... Impure. I don't understand... And I want to know what you did to Cedric.'

Tom's eyes narrowed and then he released a soft breath.

'Mister Diggory is alive,' Tom stated and a huge sigh of relief escaped Harry's lips. It did not go unnoticed by Tom - he glowered at Harry. 'Yet the more you think of him, the more I have second thoughts of allowing him to live just because good employees are so hard to find.'

'Why would you -'

'I don't owe you an explanation. Get rest, pretty thing. I have work to finish.' With that, the conversation was obviously ended. Tom turned back to whatever the paperwork was on his desk and he was dismissing him... Angrily, Harry forced himself to nod. He tried to be less hateful all the time but he couldn't help himself... Somehow Harry had expected that whatever the relationship was they were in, had become more meaningful than Tom bossing him around.

'Fine,' he sourly stated. Tom hummed and just as he was about to walk through the door, he said, 'Oh and Harry?'.

'Yes?' Harry hopefully turned around. Tom was smirking, why was he smirking? What was so goddamn funny?

'You may call me Tom.'

Life is weird.

Life is ironic, life is a flow of events, life is meaningless yet meaningful - it is short yet the biggest, longest thing you will ever do. Mankind is fickle, every single human being just another drop in the ocean, yet somehow so very uniquely important in its own social cycle. To one person, having the world is all they want - to another, having just the person that is their world is good enough.

Life is entirely contradictory.

Harry wasn't special or had any special skills, yet Tom's every thought was centered with Harry - from Harry's face to his heart, all of it, Tom wanted to own him by every definition of that word. Oceans of time Tom had spent alone and he had been content with that too... But then he had seen that vision...

No one was born evil and Tom did not think he was evil by definition. He's seen them all - the bible humpers, the voodoo witches, atheists - and after years of observing humanity he found that he was glad every ounce of humanity had been drained from his existence a long time ago. Humanity was filthy and obsessed with its own creations and Tom never had intended on even growing to  like  one of that race.

There had been times Tom had just wanted to kill the boy and admittedly he had been close to that too. A part of Tom even sincerely doubted he could love in the first place... But as he went through the books he had collected throughout the centuries and read the romance novels mankind had seemed to love so much, he found himself identifying with the characters - found himself, too, agreeing to the fact that he could not let Harry go or let lethal harm fall upon the boy. He had known from the first time he had come to claim Harry that Harry just had  something.  Harry was not born to die like all those others.

Harry was born to live.

With his innocent way of thinking and the fire he had burning within his soul, Harry was sheer perfection. He was what his parents had molded him into mostly, but Harry had been an exceptional baby.

Harry had always been Tom's Chosen One, from the first breath he had taken.

Tom licked his lips and closed his eyes. Demons did not dream or sleep but they did remember and never forgave. To think that Harry had been so willing to give what belonged to Tom, to another... It would not do. There should be no one for Harry but Tom, for there was no one for Tom but Harry. He did not care if he would have to isolate Harry completely.

But that wouldn't be necessary. Harry had been coming to him willingly.

Tom knew that Harry was ready to give himself completely to Tom, soon. He would let Harry take the first step - Tom was patient enough to wait.

The best things came with time.

Harry was pretty sure there was more to having sex.

He did not know how, but he was pretty damn sure that they could do  more  than sucking each other's cocks and even though Harry couldn't figure it out, it was clear that Tom did. Whenever Harry found himself wondering about it, Tom shot him an evil glare and Harry would only think more about it to spite him. He wanted Tom to touch him... Because lately all Harry's been feeling is that awkward stiffening of his cock, and he did not know how to get rid of it. His parents had forbidden him to touch it and although Tom had given him permission to suck his cock, he had not given Harry permission to masturbate.

Some nights, Harry dreamed of sucking on Tom's cock - sometimes he dreamed of Tom's lips wrapped around him instead. Those were the dreams that always left him bathed in sweat, and those were always the nights he woke up with Tom watching him.

Harry had been staring at his own reflection in the mirror for a long time, now.

Tracing his lips, Harry stared at his naked chest, his hipbones, his stiff little nipples. He was naked and hard – in no hurry at all, just fascinated with his own anatomy.

Harry had never really taken the time to truly  look  at himself and he supposed that he shouldn't be surprised at how he looked, but he did. He had not expected himself to be so thin, nor had he thought that his cock really looked like  that  when it was fully hard. The tip of it was shiny with precome, and flushed red.

Harry was not keeping in mind that Tom could hear his every thought and as Harry turned to the side and ran a hand over his flat tummy, Harry mused that nevertheless he had gained some weight these past days. His ribs weren't showing anymore, his thighs weren't extremely thin anymore.

Curling and uncurling his toes, Harry took his cock in hand and shivered when he gave himself two strokes, the way Tom had.

It felt good...

Biting his lip, Harry repeated the act, a vague moan falling from his mouth. He closed his eyes and thought of Toms hands, his body, the hunger in his hot gaze... There was an odd sort of pressure in the pit of his stomach and in his balls.

'So shameless...' A voice behind Harry mused and Harry's eyes snapped open as he spun around, his hands fruitlessly attempting to cover himself up from Tom's prying eyes. His face was red, all the way down to his neck, and his mouth opened and closed as Tom almost seemed to  preen.

'Ma- I mean, Tom, I was just – I'm,' Harry stuttered out, his cock still shamefully hard. He was embarrassed beyond measure, his fingertips quivering. Tom did not move – when had he come in? – and he just regarded Harry like he was the most interesting thing in the world.

'Do continue.'

Tom licked his lips and Harry gaped a him as though he didn't understand. Well, a part of Harry  didn't  – never had he been this exposed to another person before... And never had anyone asked him to do something this lewd before.

Then again, I had his cock in my mouth not too long ago...

'We shall get to that shortly. But for now... Put up a show for me, pretty thing,' Tom drawled in reply to Harry's thoughts and Harry whimpered.

But to his surprise his hand started pumping, slowly.

'Caress the tip, softly,' Tom instructed him and Harry closed his eyes. Maybe if he pretended Tom was not there... Moaning softly, Harry did as told, shivering. His stomach quivered. 'That's it, sweet thing...'

There was something so sinfully naughty about this. Harry did not hear Tom move, in his head he pictured Tom's lips pressing against his, the sweet taste of his kiss. When he felt the heat of Tom's body behind his own he simply slumped against him and wantonly keened.

'Slow,' Tom reminded him. His hands skirted over Harry's sides and Harry's head dropped against Tom's shoulder as Tom watched him. Small tremors went through Harry's body as he lost himself in his fantasy and the feeling of Tom's body and his hands. Strangely, being naked in front of Tom didn't seem so bad anymore. Like this, with pleasure coursing through his body, it felt almost natural.

'As if the sight in front of me isn't torture enough...' Harry didn't have the wits to understand that Tom was referring to his thoughts. The teen mewed again, a sound that he didn't even know he could make. He felt the pressure building... But when his hand started speeding up, Tom halted him, and Harry whined in loss. 'Turn around.'

A part of Harry wanted to refuse because that would mean he wouldn't be able to feel the warmth of Tom against his back anymore, but eventually, Harry reluctantly did. He faced Tom and his breath hitched, the demon's eyes dilated to the point where his iris was nothing but a tight red ring stretched around his depthless black pupils.

'Tom -' Harry started to say but he was cut off by Tom's lips crashing down on his own, a soft, surprised moan falling from his lips.

'Do you want more?'

'I don't know what –'

'Do you want more ?'  Tom repeated again, meaningfully, his hands firm at Harry's hips. Harry vaguely nodded his head and then Tom  purred  as he leaned down. For a moment, Harry was convinced Tom would sink to his knees and suck him, but instead he wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and picked him up. Harry gasped – like this he was forced to wrap his legs around Tom's waist. He could feel Tom's hard cock pressing against him.

'Yes,' Harry finally managed to say. He did not know what  more  entitled, but he wanted it, and he trusted Tom to make it good.

Harry blinked, and Tom's eyes mirrored the surprise.

He trusted Tom.

Tom kissed Harry and walked them over to the bed without giving Hary much more thinking space – somehow, that short realization had turned Tom on even more and as Harry's body bounced on the bed and Tom's followed, there was something incredibly hungry in Tom's movements.

'Tell me,' Tom ordered him and Harry was confused as Tom' s hands feverishly ran over his naked body. It was like Tom could never get enough of him... And it was the best feeling in the world.

Though Tom's lips pressing persistently at his throat were not too shabby either.

'I- I trust you.'

Because love was too strong of a word, and trusting Tom, a  demon,  was baffling enough. By doing this Harry was throwing away everything his parents had ever teached him, all that was right was wrong and what was wrong was somehow right again...

'Please,' Harry added uselessly. Tom licked a broad stripe over Harry's throat, his clothing too much there.

This time, Harry wanted Tom to be naked too. It was an entirely instinctual thing, one that Harry could not explain – but when he looked Tom in the eye he knew Tom understood.

There was no more uncertainty, no fear. Harry just knew what he wanted, and that was anything that meant more.

Tom sat up and Harry followed his lead, watching as Tom's fingers started working at the buttons of his shirt, his own fingers reaching out to help. Tom allowed him and the more Tom's shirt parted and Tom's skin became exposed, the more nervous and thrilled Harry became.

'Eager,' Tom observed and Harry bit his lip and tried to look away. Tom made a disapproving noise. 'That's a good thing.'

'What are we going to do?' Harry whispered, out of breath even though they hadn't even fully started. Tom chuckled as he stood up and let Harry help him out of his slacks, blinking innocently when he faced Tom's cock again.

'Yours is bigger than mine,' Harry stated dumbly and Tom purred but did not say anything about it even though he probably would have in different siuations.

'Get on your hands and knees and I'll show you what I'll do to you.'

Harry's eyebrows furrowed a bit at that. On his hands and knees...

Harry did as told and he could feel his cheeks burn while his backside was facing Tom – he had bathed less than an hour ago, but still, to have a part of himself bare like that...

'Don't be shy,' Tom hummed. His smooth palms ran over Harry's back, slowly sliding down, down,  down...  Harry couldn't help the sharp gasp that fell from his mouth when Tom pressed his fingertips against Harry's entrance just lightly, before it went down and cupped his balls. 'I'll be gentle at first. I would not like you to tear...'

'T-tear?' Harry stuttered. He pressed his forehead into the pillow and shivered. 'What do you mean –'

'I'm going to fuck your ass,' Tom stated bluntly, 'just like I fucked your pretty mouth. You remember that, don't you? You think about it all the time...'

Harry whined.

'I remember what you told me once. That you said that you would never serve your parents' debt on your hands and knees.'

As Harry opened his mouth to protest Tom's finger slid in slowly, and it was such an odd yet delicious feeling. Tom wasted no time in pumping his finger back and forth. The dryness of it all was a bit uncomfortable.

'Where is your dignity now? You're practically begging for a good fuck.'

Harry groaned when Tom leaned away, conjuring a bottle of lube. He pulled out, dribbled some of the cold liquid over Harry's ass and his own fingers, and then he added a second finger when he pushed back in.

'And I, being a merciful lord... Shall oblige.'

Harry could only take it while Tom fingered him, feeling his fingers twist and scissor occasionally inside of him. The longer Tom went on, the better it felt...

Tom added a third finger and Harry could feel his entrance lewdly clench on it, trying to take it as deep as possible. Since when did his body crave this? Had Harry always been like this, or was he what Tom had created out of him?

When Tom pulled his fingers out of Harry again Harry whined in loss and jumped when Tom smacked him just once on the thigh with a flat palm.

'Don't be so greedy,' Tom chastised him and Harry burried his face in his arms in embarrassment, shivering when he felt the blunt tip of Tom's cockhead press persistently against his asshole. He glanced behind himself, met Tom's dark eyes and was about to say something when Tom slowly, but surely, started sliding inside of himself.

Harry's eyes widened.

This was... Harry didn't even have words to describe.

Tom filled him until the brim and a choked sob fell from Harry's mouth, his rim clenching and unclenching, unreasonably  full.  The burn of the stretch could not override that fullness.

'Stroke yourself,' Tom instructed but even his voice seemed a bit forced, as though talking took him a great amount of effort. Harry could not help but feel a bit proud at that and his shaking hand reached down automatically as he did as told.

As Harry clumsily jerked himself, Tom slowly rocked his hips back and forth, as if to open Harry up wider. The noise Harry released was incredibly embarrassing... But he could not help himself. With each thrust more pain ebbed away and made place for sinful pleasure.

Tom hummed and leaned down over Harry's body, his upperchest pressing against Harry's shoulderblades as his arms caged Harry in. The speed of his hips rocking into Harry's bottom became faster and Harry found himself clinging to the sheets, his little toes curled, his mouth open in a silent scream.

The sound of their skin slapping together was delicious and pleasure sparked through Harry's body like a lazy heat. He didn't even realize he was making those  uh uh uh uh  noises, all he was aware of was being filled,  fucked  as Tom had called it.

'You love this,' the demon mused and Harry could just stupidly nod his head. He did love this, there was no point in denying that this overwhelming feeling was better than anything he had ever experienced.

'Please,' Harry sobbed. He ached for release, he wanted to reach that high from before. Tom purred and kept pounding into him, his hand joining Harry's around his cock and jerking him hard.

Harry came in hot spurts and could just lay face down in the mattress as Tom kept fucking into him until he released into Harry's body too.

They collapsed together and as Harry felt himself drift off, Tom pressed a soft kiss against his temple.

He smiled for the first time since they met.

Harry found himself staring out at the balcony that following morning. He had woken up alone in Toms bed – from Tom's bedroom, the view was somewhat beautiful now.


Harry glanced behind himself to see Tom, and he could feel a soft smile play on his features even though he was still a bit shy. Tom set down a plate with food on his boudoir and walked over to Harry, and allowed Harry to wrap his arms around his waist in a soft hug.

Harry closed his eyes and nuzzled Tom's chest.

'Yeah,' he said after a long moment of silence. He was comfortable. Harry wasn't okay yet, but he was doing better and when Tom spoke again, he was certain he had misunderstood.

'What?' Harry asked in curiosity, glancing up to see Tom was already staring at him meaningfully.

'I once ate the soul of an old fortune teller... I had a vision of you and I.' Harry paused. Tom had never been this open to him before... As Harry tried to wrap his mind around this, he supposed that it all made sense. If Tom had seen the future already... Then he always had known what would happen.

'Of us?' Harry parrotted and Tom made a soft humming noise as he led Harry inside again. The sheets were rumpled, not yet replaced by clean ones, but Harry knew they would be soon. The smell of sex still lingered.

'It was a vision of how we met, all the way up to our future. Up until now, everything came true... I had wanted to keep your virginity intact because I saw that we became lovers in the vision and I did not want anyone else to have you.'

'But you hit me.' Harry argued incredulously. Lovers? Harry found this very hard to believe.

'I am a  demon .' Harry opened and closed his mouth. That was fair enough... Harry didn't expect Tom to become lovey dovey with him and he wasn't even sure if that was what he wanted him to in the first place. To picture Tom finding Harry after knowing of that vision, a prophecy of some sort, cast a different light on everything.

'You were lonely, ' Harry concluded, 'you're old, older than your appearance gives you credit for. The thought that you could finally have a companion worth of your time made you happy.'

'I don't believe in love, but I will say that life was starting to become dull before I met you,' Tom answered. They stared at one another for a long time before Harry got up and sat down on the bed just a few inches away from Tom, his hands reaching out to touch the sides of Tom's face. He remembered that talk they had – Tom didn't understand love, he wouldn't recognise it even if it would hit him in the face.

'Don't think about me like that. I am not a child,' Tom said, an angry tone to his voice. Harry nodded and then he sank down on Tom's lap.

'We were lovers,' he mused and Tom merely looked him in the eye. 'What was it like?'

'Something like this.' Tom took Harry's face within his hands and kissed him, his tongue slowly slipping in and dancing with Harry's. Harry moaned softly – mildly surprised at how easy it was to allow Tom to do this. With his arms thrown around Tom's neck he tried to get as close as possible to Tom's body.

What Tom had done was not right, but his parents had been the ones to sell Harry's soul in the first place... Tom truly did own Harry in every way possible and maybe, just maybe, Harry was okay with this too.

Tom patted at Harry's hip at one point and Harry had difficulty pulling away.

It was not home, but it could be.