Chapter Text
Tom wakes with a start, shooting upright in his bed. Sweat coats his skin, making his clothes stick to his body, and he casts the covers off himself, overheated despite the way he’s shivering. He stumbles out of his bed, trying to catch his breath, and stands in the darkness of the room for a moment. It must be two or three in the morning - everyone’s asleep, Malfoy’s snoring grating to his ears.
Tom goes very still when the cold hits his legs, pressing through the drenched fabric of his sleep trousers. For one heart-stopping moment he thinks he’s wet himself. It doesn’t smell like urine, though, and it doesn’t feel like urine, the dry prickle of salt absent - not to mention he’s half-hard and he knows from experience how hard it is to urinate when he’s got morning wood. Looking down, it’s far too much liquid to be semen, and especially precome, so it can’t have been a wet dream either.
Tom shakes his head. Did someone pour water on him as a prank? Lowering his hand to the back of his trousers where the fabric clings to his arse, he feels at the texture. It feels warm and wet, but it doesn’t stick, instead making the glide of his fingers over the fabric of his coarse cotton sleeping trousers as easy as silk. Ice cold races down the back of his spine and he stops dead, breathing carefully.
It feels like lubricant, Tom thinks with awful clarity.
Filled with sudden panic, he vanishes the mess in his trousers and shrugs on a robe, fleeing the dorm room with his wand clenched in a white-knuckled hand. He’s still sweating, but he ignores it in favour of speeding his pace. He’s not entirely sure how he reaches the hospital wing without being caught by one of the patrolling teachers, but he manages it somehow, and he uses his weight to push the large, heavy doors open, spilling into the sterile wing.
He feels lightheaded and both too warm and too cold - but that’s probably because of the panic and his rush. If this is what he thinks it is - and gods, he hopes it isn’t - he’s just presented. It takes a few weeks for everything to get into swing, so even if it is , he won’t have his first heat here and now.
He vaguely registers a figure in one of the beds, sleeping on their side as he stumbles through the room to the Matron’s office. His breathing is coming hard and fast, and sparks fly in front of his vision. He can’t get quite enough air. The door opens before he can even knock, and the matron looks up at him with worried eyes.
“Mr Riddle?” Madam Pomfrey asks, and then she realises the state of him, eyes widening. “Oh dear.”
Tom forces a smile, leaning heavily on the . “Please tell me this isn’t-” he begins, interrupted by a violent shiver, sweat beading on his back. He catches his breath, biting his lip. “This has to be a fluke.”
He’s sixteen . It’s statistically impossible. Everyone presented in their second year, and the stragglers in third. Tom hadn’t presented, just like the rest of the Betas. This is his fifth year - OWLs are just around the corner. It has to be a fluke - a stupid, ridiculous prank. Someone poured some Omega’s slick on him and cast temperature-raising charms on him. It has to be.
“Mr Riddle,” Madam Pomprey says quietly, brows pulling down and concern painting her face. There’s a noise behind them, and Tom whips around and presses himself back against the wall, instantly on edge, breathing accelerating.
“Ma’am?” A tired, familiar voice says. “Whas’at smell? It’s so nice. Can I have it?”
The matron tenses and grabs Tom’s arm, pulling him closer to her. “No, Mr Potter,” she says tersely. “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep now.”
Harry Potter. Tom’s mind whirls as he’s pulled into the office, almost losing his balance. Right - Potter had a Quidditch accident today and gained several nasty fractures in his dominant arm. They’d decided to remove the bone and regrow it instead of trying to heal it, since the latter could leave him with chronic pain. It was pretty big news yesterday afternoon, an injury like that for Hogwarts’ golden boy. His eyes stray to the sectioned off bed, and something rises to the back of his mind.
Potter… Potter is in his seventh year, almost graduated. He’d taken his NEWTs already and is sticking around for the end of the school’s Quidditch season, the grand finale of which will take place two weeks from now. The weekend before the first OWLs. A good mate, some traitorous part of his brain whispers.
“Mr Riddle, I’m afraid you’re going to have to focus,” Madam Pomfrey says, waving her hand lightly in front of his face. The door closes on its own behind her, cutting off his line of vision, and Tom blinks back to awareness. “I admit this is… unprecedented, but there’s no denying the truth of the matter.” Her serious eyes meet his, the skin around them marked by frown lines. “I understand this is distressing, Mr Riddle, but you must understand first and foremost that there is no shame in being an Omega. You are just as valuable as your peers. Every society needs Omegas to function. Being late to present is no mark of shame either - it’s revealing of your circumstances, perhaps, but not shameful.”
That’s a laugh. Tom closes his eyes. His circumstances are shameful - returning to a communal house every summer, where the other children try to steal the little food he gets because he’s ‘tall enough anyway’, watching as they get moved from foster home to foster home as he stays, stuck in that worn-down, plastic-like house, unable to leave because of his magic.
Of course he’d present so incredibly late, malnourished as he is, surrounded by a thick cloud of stress pheromones every day and night of summer, the sour, putrid scent of which no amount of baths can seem to erase. His body must have been convinced it wasn’t safe to kickstart the second, magical part of his puberty.
“Is it alright if I examine you?” Madam Pomfrey says, watching him with a slight furrow between her brow. Her expression is one of empathy, but Tom doesn’t buy it. “It’ll just be a magical scan and a brief look at your genitalia to make sure everything’s in order. You don’t have to agree, but I can clean you up while I’m at it. I want to make sure no complications have arisen from your late presentation.”
It won’t hurt, Tom reasons with himself despite the gooseflesh prickling at the skin of his arms. So he nods his head absently and strips when she instructs him to, lying down on his back on the paper-coated medical table. It’s softer than it looks, which he can appreciate. She casts on him first, waving her wand methodically over his skin.
“Your fertility appears to be fine; ovaries in working order,” she says, peering at the sheet that appears before her eyes, reading the lines as they appear. “Hormonal imbalances are within the expected range so soon after the first change, so that’s not surprising. You’re a bit dehydrated, too, but that’s easily resolved. I’ll give you something once I’ve checked you.”
“Suppressants?” Tom murmurs, half-joking, looking anywhere but her. Maybe if he ignores the entire situation it’ll just go away on its own. Madam Pomfrey frowns at him.
“At this stage it would completely wreck your hormonal development,” she tells him, moving so she’s at the end of the table, near his feet. “Nothing until after you’ve had your first heat, young man. Now - you’ll come to me the second you feel it coming on so we can put you somewhere safe, hmm?” With some coaxing Tom raises his knees until he’s exposed, ignoring the burning of his face. “Let’s see… Still lubricating. How long do you think you’ve been wet?” she asks matter-of-factly.
“I don’t know,” Tom says through his teeth, clenching his eyes shut. Gods, the humiliation. Like he’s a girl. “I didn’t feel anything when I went to sleep at eleven or so.”
“I see. I suppose it’s still within reason. Apologies - this may feel intrusive.”
She barely finishes her sentence before gloved hands poke at his nethers, carefully spreading the flesh of his taint to reveal the newly formed opening there, behind where his bollocks used to be. She peers at the space thoughtfully, humming. It doesn’t sound like she’s worried, but Tom also really doesn’t want to think about what she’s looking at. He knows, logically, about the biology of male Omegas, but the thought of it happening to him … It makes him feel ill, blood draining from his cheeks. When her grip slips a little inward by accident Tom grunts, twisting away in sudden panic.
“I’m sorry, Mr Riddle,” she says at once, pulling her hands back and letting him close his legs and turn partially onto his side. “That wasn’t my intention. I’ll have to look some more to complete the examination if you’re alright with that, but you can take a moment. Let me know if you want me to continue.”
There’s a knock on the door. Tom’s skin goes ice cold all over and he scrambles away to the furthest corner of the bed, eyes wide and fixed on the shadow visible through the frosted glass window in the door.
“Madam Pomfrey?” Potter’s voice comes through the door, sounding more awake now. “Do you need help? I thought I heard something.”
“Go back to sleep, Mr Potter,” the matron calls sternly, mouth set into a tense line. Her shoulders are set, too, wand already in hand.
“I can’t seem to,” Potter says, distracted. “The smell, it’s… Are you sure you don’t need help?”
“I’m going to bed, Mr Potter,” Madam Pomfrey says, unflinching. “I’m not senile.”
Curled up in his corner, arms clenched across his chest like it’ll protect his nude form against anything that could happen, Tom finds a new sort of respect for the way she lies through her teeth to protect him from a seeking Alpha. She must have experience with this, he realises.
Then he starts to feel curiously boneless, relaxing bit by bit as an oddly familiar scent meets his nose. A fresh feeling of warm wetness grows underneath his arse where he’s sitting, smelling strangely sweet even to his own nose. Tom lets out a breath, tension draining from his body. He would have fallen off the bed, he thinks distantly, had he not been pressed against the wall. He doesn’t feel too worried about the revelation.
“Bloody buggering fuck,” the matron hisses under her breath. She waves her wand at Tom and he feels the coldness of a disillusionment charm wash over him just as an air bubble forms around his person, blocking more of the scent from reaching his nose. A moment later Madam Pomfrey marches to the door, opening it a fraction.
“Mr Potter!” She scolds through the gap. “I understand you’re impaired because of the pain relievers I gave you, but this behaviour is simply indecent! I’ve told you - there is nothing going on aside from me trying to sleep. Control your scent, or I will do it for you!”
Potter appears shaken at the chiding tone, blinking at her. “Oh,” he says, and his eyes widen, clarity returning to his gaze though his pupils are still tellingly dilated. “Oh! I’m sorry, Madam. I didn’t mean to… I understand. I’ll try to sleep.”
He turns around then and wanders away, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts that way. Slowly Tom manages to compose himself, breathing shakily from the air provided by the bubble.
“I’m sorry for that,” the matron says when she dispels the bubble, clearing the air around them with a swirl of her wand. “I hadn’t anticipated Mr Potter being that affected by your scent, since it’s very subtle. I’ve cast a scent-blocking barrier on the room now - just in case.”
Tom nods, clenching his thighs tightly together and looking determinedly at the floor. Madam Pomfrey sighs.
“You don’t have to be ashamed of your body’s reaction,” she says, sitting down heavily on a chair next to him. “It’s unfamiliar and frightening at first, and likely embarrassing, but you can’t do much about it until you’re cleared for suppressants. Mr Potter is a very good and well-behaved Alpha, and you saw yourself how he reacted to you just now.” She smiles comfortingly at him. “Sometimes biology gets the best of us. I encourage you to embrace it, within reason; it’s how we got here in the first place, after all.”
When she lets him go it’s the early morning, the sun rising through the tall windows of the hospital wing and painting everything soft pink, the charm to mask his own scent fresh in his mind and wand once again in hand.
Embrace his biology. Tom has to take a few days to wrap his mind around the concept; days which are filled with his move to another dorm room - a private one, since Omegas are known to be highly sensitive to the scent of any other person in what they perceive to be their space; a shift in curriculum to make space for his scheduled upcoming first heat; and a sudden and drastic shift in the way people look at him.
It’s downright insulting, the latter of the three. Malfoy, who only a week earlier had regarded Tom sincerely as someone to be followed and revered for his skill in the dark arts, has the gall to suggest someone take over the leadership of their ‘extracurricular activities’. As if there’s a space to fill when Tom is still right there. Needless to say, Potter isn’t the only one to visit the hospital wing aside from Tom that week.
Tom sort of hopes cursing Malfoy into oblivion for the slight will have the intended effect of restoring his reputation to what it once was, but just two days after he overhears Rosier telling Avery the torture was a result not of righteous anger, but of pre-heat hormones , and that Tom will ‘surely calm down once he’s got an Alpha to keep him busy.’ The implication is clear that Rosier expects Tom to devote his life and new reproductive organs to pleasing whatever brute mounts him first, leaving them alone in the process.
Tom sends Rosier to the infirmary missing his teeth.
Unfortunately, before he can pick off the rest of his set of idiot Knights, he begins to become restless, his mind wandering more and more often to the memory of the large, anticipating form of Potter waiting behind the thin infirmary office’s door. His pre-heat is approaching, Madam Pomfrey informs him, Tom’s scent starting to change to inform nearby potential mates that he’s almost ready to be impregnated. His mind, too, will be increasingly occupied with who is the most suitable mate for him.
Tom doesn’t tell her that his stupid brain has already decided who it wants. It comes to him in flashes, starting with a memory.
Tom remembers the start of his first year, being thrown down to the floor by some of his older housemates and knocking his head painfully against the ground, the fall disorienting him enough that he couldn’t get up. He remembers a blur of red rushing to stand between him and his assailants, wand in hand and teeth bared in a protective display. Potter had scared the other Slytherins off, and then had attempted to help Tom up - but Tom hadn’t been able to get his feet under him. He remembers, then, how Potter had picked him up, straining only a little, and carried him all the way to the hospital wing to get his head checked.
He remembers how nice Potter had smelled, deep and musky with an undertone of sweetness in just the right way, and how it lingered on his clothes. Potter had freshly presented as an Alpha the summer beforehand and hadn’t learned how to put on scent masking spells quite right yet. Tom remembers how he’d felt, some weeks after, when he’d approached Potter close enough to smell his scent and it hadn’t been there. A sense of loss, deep in his throat. He supposes that should have been his first warning - but hindsight is always perfect.
Tom has limited options: he won’t get anywhere unmated, and removing his reproductive organs is an expensive, frowned upon and risky procedure that he doesn’t have the means or time to explore, though it would solve almost all his problems. So he’ll have to find an Alpha - a respectful, well-socialised and influential one, preferably as soon as possible.
It all adds up: Potter is attracted to his scent. There’s no doubt about that considering what happened in the infirmary wing, and based on the way Tom had reacted to the older boy’s pheromones in return, the compatibility is mutual. On top of that, if he’s looking for a pliable Alpha with charm and status, Potter is undoubtedly the mate he’s looking for.
It occurs to him that his brain may be leading him to the conclusion of taking Harry Potter as his mate far more hastily than it should, but that doesn’t really matter. Tom still maintains enough control over himself that he can easily grit his teeth and seduce someone else who’s easy to manipulate should he fail with Potter. He doesn’t expect to - but Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff Alpha in Potter’s year, would do just as well if push comes to shove.
He plans carefully, starting off mild. Whenever he passes Potter alone in a corridor or sits near him when the library’s near-empty, Tom removes the charm masking his pre-heat scent. It almost always makes the Alpha turn to him before long, dark eyes seeking Tom’s figure without fail each time he does. It’s hard not to preen, to bare his neck in invitation like his body wants to do; actions like that would give the game away immediately and ruin the whole thing.
For now, until the week ends, Tom is simply a fresh, silly and incompetent Omega who has yet to master control over the scent-masking charm that comes easily to even third-years.
Once Potter’s eyes begin to seek him out of their own accord even without Tom dropping the charm, the Alpha’s own scent occasionally leaking from under his own spell when his control slips, Tom becomes bolder. He begins to sit a few seats nearer, veers ever so slightly closer when he passes Potter in the corridor.
In the library the Alpha is browsing the section containing the history of magical humanoids, and Tom approaches carefully, the excuse of his own history of magic exercises on the Vampire Treaties of the eighteen-hundreds practised at the forefront of his mind. He breathes shallowly, careful to keep his excitement silent when his palm brushes up against the Alpha’s arm as he reaches for a book behind where Potter is standing.
“Am I in the way?” Potter asks, voice a little rougher than normal, eyes dark as they linger on Tom’s buttoned shirt collar which reaches higher than it used to. It’s an unfortunate obligation that comes with presenting as an Omega: having to cover your neck almost up to your ears. For a society with suppressants, the wardrobe requirement feels archaic.
“No, that’s alright,” Tom says, purposefully ducking his head with a slight tilt in an action that would have exposed the side of his throat if not for the high collar, and watches the Alpha’s reaction carefully through his eyelashes. It works as intended - he can tell it does, despite Potter taking a proprietary step back. Tom bites back the frustration and smiles shyly at the older boy, pulling the book he picked to his chest and returning to his seat. It’s fine - he has time. Just over a week, if Madam Pomfrey is to be believed.
The next time he tries the same thing - the day after - he picks a book a little further away, making sure to glance at Potter every so often, biting his lip as if he’s indecisive.
“Is something wrong?” the Alpha asks, keen eyes following Tom’s every move with almost indecent attention.
“I…” Tom begins, then stops himself, letting blood rise to his cheeks in a rehearsed fashion. “I was wondering if you could help me with my revision,” he says softly. “I’m having trouble finding books on some subjects, and it’s a little stressful considering these are the important exams…” he trails off, raising his eyes to Potter’s. The older boy takes the hint, smiling at him.
“I can help,” he says, swaying just that little bit closer before he steps up to Tom’s side, looking over his shoulder at the books on display in front of them. “What are you looking for? Do you want me to quiz you, too?”
“I’d like that,” Tom says, smiling in a way he knows brings out his dimples. “You’re very kind.”
Potter smiles back at him, pleased to be of help.
When they find the books Tom hadn’t even bothered to look properly for they sit down together in Tom’s spot. Potter, who tells him to just call him Harry after Tom performatively stumbles over the Alpha’s last name, quizzes him dutifully, though it’s clear he hadn’t taken History of Magic beyond OWL year. Tom doesn’t mind - Harry is helpful enough for the topics Tom does indeed need to know for his exam, and so they sit together during Tom’s study periods from then on.
Every so often Tom lets his charm fade into nothing again, hiding his own keen eyes by staring down at his books and only glancing up when he’s sure Harry won’t notice. When the Alpha begins to lean in in return, turning his nose ever so slightly closer to Tom’s neck when they sit side by side, Tom almost crows in victory. He doesn’t. He pretends to be embarrassed and apologetic instead, reapplying the charm with exaggerated movements for the older boy’s eyes. It works: Harry smiles understandingly at Tom whenever he does, the edges of his mouth harder than Tom thinks the Alpha intended. He knows why, of course - an Omega expressing interest and then revealing it’s on accident must sting his baser pride.
As Tom’s pre-heat creeps into full swing, turning his bed into a mess of damp blankets kicked into an almost circle around him when he’s asleep, Harry takes a more active role in Tom’s implicit courtship. He follows Tom to and from pre-exam assisted study time like a chaperone, offering to carry some things for him despite Tom never struggling to carry the load, and glares at any Alpha who stares just a little too long, lips twitching visibly with the urge to curl back and bare his teeth.
Tom pretends not to notice, accelerating the situation by scent marking his things late at night in places he’s certain will cling to Harry’s clothes and leave him with Tom’s scent lingering in his nose for hours on end. Still the Alpha insists on being decent, attempting to keep his own intensified pheromones under control and staying an appropriate distance away from Tom at most times, unless Tom himself takes the initiative to sway ever so much closer.
Tom can imagine what he’s telling himself; that he’s simply watching over a vulnerable younger Omega, that there’s nothing to it. That they’re just friends , and that Tom can’t control his subconscious reactions to Harry’s presence due to his upcoming heat - which is true, if taken literally - but, most importantly, that Tom doesn’t truly mean it, and therefore that Harry is not at liberty to reciprocate. The thought brings a smile to Tom’s face, and he hums as he slips his hand into his underwear, fingers ghosting over his cock as he teases himself to the memory of Harry trying to be proper .
He’s such a good Alpha.
Almost everything Harry does gets Tom hard and wet these days, the closer his pre-heat inches to his full heat. It’s an unfortunate side effect of the hormonal changes in his body; his libido is at an all-time high, leaving Tom smelling of arousal at the slightest thing.
“Here.” Harry hands him a bundle of Gryffindor colours, dilated eyes fixed on Tom’s face. “It’s dangerous to be out and about in pre-heat when you haven’t fully mastered the masking charm yet. This should help.”
Tom unfolds it, letting the knitted fabric fall to its true width and length, and the scent of Harry hits his nose like he’s been punched with it. Tom has to close his eyes for a moment to compose himself, swaying with the force of the heat rushing to his stomach. He feels moisture drip into his underwear, a mortifying sensation, and Tom hastily reapplies the charm wandlessly to cover his scent before Harry can realise the true extent of what his gift does to Tom.
A scent-marked scarf, he thinks, unsure if he’s feeling hysterical or extremely accomplished. A heavily scent-marked scarf - probably Harry’s very own - to mask Tom’s scent at one of the two biggest sources on his body in case Tom’s charm fails him, as Harry’s convinced it tends to do.
It’s almost perfect. Tomorrow his heat is scheduled to kick in, and this gift, Harry’s accompanying actions - they reveal his intent, even if the older boy hasn’t made himself aware of it yet.
Tom’s hands shake as he puts it on, wrapping it loosely around his neck. The warmth that rushes to his face is real this time, and he bites his lip, trying to breathe shallowly. They’re nearly to his next assisted study period - History of Magic, ironically. He just has to hold out for a few minutes.
Harry almost lingers at the door, and under any other circumstances Tom would have welcomed it gladly - but he’s currently almost shaking with restraint, simply waiting for the Alpha to leave so he can excuse himself and rush back to his dorm, to the crude pile of assorted blankets he’s refusing to call a nest, and wank himself raw. He doesn’t have to wait long - the arrival of Cormac McLaggen, one of the more pungent and cocky Alphas in Tom’s year who thinks he’s got the most amazing scent in the school and everyone should be subjected to it at all times, has Harry visibly swallowing back the urge to bare his teeth. He casts Tom one last lingering glance, thankfully not noticing exactly how still Tom is sitting, and then turns and leaves.
“Merlin,” McLaggen says, cringing back after he enters the classroom, lips drawing up to bare his canines. “Who here got fucked by the most possessive knothead in the British Isles?”
Professor Binns scolds him for his language and Granger casts an air-freshening charm in the same breath she begins lecturing McLaggen for his sexist terminology and assumptions. Tom holds out for twenty whole seconds - he counts - before he stands abruptly and excuses himself, rushing out of the classroom. He only realises he’s forgotten his bag when he’s halfway to his dorm, using his nose to just barely avoid the same path Harry had taken moments earlier.
He almost falls into his room, turning around and locking the door with shaking hands before he collapses onto his nest, yanking at his trousers to get them down. He hears a button pop, but he doesn’t care, too busy burying his face into the thick and soft red wool and gasping in wet lungfuls of the Alpha’s scent as he shoves his hand into his underwear, pulling frantically at his cock in desperate strokes and trying to ignore the wet emptiness just a little bit further down.
It’s almost embarrassing, even to himself. His mind is filled with the image of the two of them as he comes, himself safely caged in Harry’s arms with a telling bite on his nape and a swollen belly, well-fed and content.
When he’s spent after orgasming several times, cock wrung dry and a little chafed and cum and slick streaking his trousers and jumper, Tom catches his breath, pulling his face away from the thick source of Harry’s scent to breathe in the familiar semi-sweetness of his own. With difficulty he grabs his wand, ignoring the bodily fluids still covering his hand, and casts a scent-muffling charm on the scarf. It helps - his head clears a bit.
He’s not sure exactly how long he’s been in his room, but he does know he’s going to have to pick up his bag soon. It’s likely Harry has noticed his absence by now, too. Worrying the older boy seems useless at this stage, Tom tells himself, refusing to feel pathetic for giving in to the insistent urge to return and demonstrate to his chosen mate that he’s alright. He cleans his clothes the best he can with his wand and brushes the worst wrinkles out of the fabric, putting on a new pair of underwear for good measure. Tom runs his hands through his hair to get rid of the worst of the mess, though he can’t do much about his blood-flushed and bitten lips and his reddened eyes.
Harry is there when he returns to the classroom, shoulders tense and Tom’s bag in hand. His eyes snap to Tom’s form and stay there, taking in his appearance with a hungry expression. His nostrils flare for a moment, undoubtedly smelling the lingering evidence of the past however long Tom was occupied.
“I’m sorry,” Tom blurts half-earnestly, trying to push away any lingering dizziness, though his blood feels fairly rooted in his lower half instead of his brain. “I just… I couldn’t help it.” He feels giddy. Reckless.
“That’s okay,” Harry says, eyes as dark as the night sky, barely a sliver of green left around the pupils. He hitches Tom’s bag up and places the strap over his shoulder, clearly intending to carry it whether Tom wants him to or not, all pretence of apologies for his actions thrown out the window in favour of instinct. “Class is in full swing, and it won’t be over for a while. I don’t think it’s productive for you to go for now, but I’m also concerned to simply leave you wandering around the halls smelling like…” Harry trails off, his face twitching with restrained aggression at the thought. “I’ll take you somewhere. I know a room you can get comfortable in before your next lesson.”
It’s so very near perfect. Tom’s full heat is predicted to start tomorrow afternoon, but he has no intention of going to Madam Pomfrey like she told him to. Tom watches Harry carefully, taking a deep, subtle breath and hiding his smile at what he finds there.
He’s got a feeling that he won’t even have to wait until tomorrow, if the rapidly growing scent of Harry’s incoming rut is anything to go by.
Chapter 2
Notes:
it was either this turn into a 40k week-long porn chapter or i save our collective hides and my sanity and split it up. i chose the latter. you get the rest of the almost-week of BreedingTM in ch 3, which i pray will be about an equal length to this one.
Ft: tom being a flagrant whore, harry being steamrolled over and thanking tom for it, and ‘that sure is a side effect’ to tom’s bat-shit ridiculous plan to gain himself a permanent sugar daddy. tom never gets punished. I love him your honour
Also i gave harry a MASSIVE breeding kink, as you will see below. Enjoy it because i am not going to apologise for it. yes tom is into it too
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
A thrill runs through Tom’s body. This is what he’s been waiting for.
In truth, the matron is expecting him at her doorstep anywhere between this afternoon and the next, when his first true heat is scheduled to start. Instead he’s following an older, protective Alpha in accelerated pre-rut - who isn’t even bothering to mask his scent anymore - to a secluded room. There’s only one way this will end, and Tom can barely wait.
The scent Harry gives off is soothing to Tom, easing the discomfort of pre-heat even as it exacerbates the symptoms, but he knows full well that it’d be pungent to any other Alpha nearby, completely overpowering Tom’s pre-heat scent. When he’s in heat it’ll be another matter, but for now Tom feels safe. There’s nobody around, but still Harry takes Tom’s hand in his own, his palm pleasantly warm and dry, squeezing his fingers gently as they ascend the stairs to the third seventh floor.
They turn into an empty corridor stretching into the distance, and even though Tom’s a little winded from the climb, he can’t help but be confused when they stop. Next to them is a rather chaotic-looking tapestry featuring trolls in tutus, of all things, led by a strange-looking man with a lute. It’s distracting, and Tom has half a mind to set it on fire so he can get back to business with his Alpha.
Why they’ve stopped here, he doesn’t know. Tom blinks at the empty space Harry’s staring at, frowning when the older boy meets his eyes. Surely they aren’t at their destination. Tom refuses to have his first heat on the floor in the middle of a dusty hallway where anyone can stumble upon them. Harry smiles, his expression a tint darker than keen, and paces quickly right, left and right again, reminding Tom of a rather big, restless cat as he does it - and as he turns left once more, Tom watches a door appear in the wall in front of him like the brick has melted away.
Harry walks to it and pushes it open, holding it ajar for Tom to enter, and Tom does, looking around carefully. He’s never seen this room before, so he’s not sure what to expect. Behind him the Alpha enters as well, closing the door to the outside world with a quiet click. Inside it smells - it smells like Tom, if he’s completely honest.
“This is the Room of Requirement,” Harry explains from behind him, voice quiet and rough. “It turns into whatever you need.”
What he needs, increasingly, is to be filled, but Tom ignores that in favour of mapping the layout of the room in his head. There’s a warm fire crackling in a hearth off to the side, a plush green couch in front of it as well as some love seats. There’s food, all non-perishable, displayed on a dark mahogany table in the corner.
There’s a bed in the middle of the room, too, and a familiar array of blankets are laid on top of it. His - his nest. It’s untouched from where it used to lay on the bed in his dorm, he’s sure, and it smells exactly like it used to - which explains the smell of the room.
A heat room. Harry brought him to a heat room, and looking at the shocked, slightly embarrassed expression on the older boy’s face as he registers the same thing Tom does, the action was a subconscious one.
“I’m sorry,” Harry says. “I didn’t mean…” He trails off and swallows heavily, dark eyes fixed on the bed. “That’s your nest, isn’t it?”
It feels a bit humiliating to call the messy, uncoordinated circle of blankets a nest. Nests are supposed to be nice, aesthetically pleasing and comfortable, and while this one’s certainly comfortable enough to Tom, he’s resisted the urge to make it presentable throughout his entire preheat. Now he realises he should have. The blow his pride would have taken at the time is nothing compared to the way he feels now, ears hot and blood rushing to his cheeks.
“It’s not really,” Tom says stiffly. “It’s… I’ve yet to make a proper one.”
“It looks comfortable,” Harry says, and though he averts his eyes out of respect for Tom’s privacy, Tom can tell he’s being earnest.
Tom swallows and looks around the room some more instead of replying, trying to ignore the warmth deep in his abdomen. It’s strange to experience the phenomenon’s namesake first-hand, his insides feeling rather alike to a slowly heating liquid mush. The Room of Requirement is comfortable, filled with earthy tones that darken the room and make it feel smaller. It feels right; perfect for Tom. For a moment he worries that the room had somehow known what he wanted, and that Harry might realise when their respective cycles blow over - but that’s almost ridiculous. Tom hadn’t known what he’d been looking at until the door appeared.
He’s distracted when Harry moves from behind him, wandering over to the sitting area and sitting down in one of the loveseats. Tom copies him after a few moments, and he sits down on the couch opposite the Alpha, followed by dilated eyes the entire way.
He doesn’t really want to sit here - his nest is right there, and Tom’s instincts demand above all that he fix it, make it like it should be, and then crawl into it to entice the Alpha who’s taking care of him so well into breeding him silly. He ignores the urge, shifting awkwardly in place and staring at his feet. He’s wetter than ever, the fabric of his trousers turning uncomfortably damp, but the charm he’d cast earlier holds fast. He doesn’t want to reveal how affected he is by Harry’s presence just yet.
They sit there for a while, Harry watching him with an expression that looks to Tom more like incredible restraint than calm. At some point Tom must have glanced at his shitty nest more times than Harry can handle, because before Tom can shift again and fidget with his hands, the Alpha speaks up.
“You can go to your nest, if you want,” he says, fingers curled into the armrest like claws. “I won’t mind.” Looking closer, Tom realises Harry doesn’t just look like he has claws - he actually has them. It’s the mark of a strong, virile Alpha, and Tom is struck by a bolt of desire that twists his lower abdomen into cramps.
He swallows, shaking his head. “I’m fine,” he says. Harry doesn’t look convinced.
It takes just one additional restless shift of Tom’s legs a few moments later to make the Alpha rise. Harry crosses the distance between them in a single stride and picks Tom up like he’s nothing, one arm under Tom’s shoulders and the other supporting his knees, before they’re crossing the room, closer and closer to Tom’s nest.
Tom grabs Harry’s shirt, nervous now - though he’s not entirely sure about what. It seems to be for naught; Harry places Tom down gently in the centre of his nest and moves to pull back, to disentangle himself. Instincts kick in then, and Tom’s fingers tighten in Harry’s shirt to keep him in place, breathing a little faster.
The Alpha freezes in place. Harry’s eyes meet Tom’s and they’re poison green, like circles of light. He’s in full rut, the thick, heady, intoxicating smell filling the space between them but somehow, incredibly, still in control; breathing carefully through his mouth.
A good Alpha.
Tom bares his throat despite the cloth that covers it, making a soft noise. His body relaxes on autopilot and he rolls a little further onto his back, exposing his stomach.
In the next moment Harry’s on top of him, teeth bared - not in threat, but as a promise. He looks wild, eyes wide and vibrant.
“Omega,” he says, voice just above a growl, and Tom whines softly in return, losing the last grasp he had on his scent-masking charm, the heady smell of his unmistakable arousal blooming thick between them. The next noise out of Harry’s mouth is a snarl, and he presses his face to Tom’s neck, inhaling in deep, rasping breaths.
“Alpha,” Tom manages, and he feels the very moment it clicks for him, too, the heat in his belly bursting into a raging inferno. “Breed me.” It’s not a question - Tom isn’t one to beg, and his baser instincts aren’t going to make him start now.
Harry doesn’t respond for a moment, still breathing heavily against his throat, before he actually growls - and in the next moment Tom’s shirt is gone, torn open by the Alpha’s sharp claws. The horribly itchy and restricting collar gets ripped away, leaving Tom exposed to Harry’s sharp gaze as he pulls back to regard Tom in his entirety, pushing the tattered remains of Tom’s shirt to his shoulders to bare his chest.
“Pretty,” he murmurs, canines visible for just a moment, and Tom’s heart beats faster in anticipation. “You’re so pretty, Omega. A little skinny, but that’s okay.” Harry smiles, tracing down the centre of Tom’s chest with a finger, the dulled claw barely grazing his flesh. “I’ll get you fed, darling thing. You’ll give me gorgeous pups, won’t you?”
Tom wants to. He wants to so much, and he nods breathlessly, watching the incredible form of the Alpha above him shift to explore Tom’s body further, tracing over his navel and down, where a trail of fine, pigment-less hairs leads toward his pelvis. His abdomen quivers when Harry traces over it, shying away from the gentle pressure, though it doesn’t deter the older boy.
“See, here…” Harry stops his finger right above Tom’s waistband, just under the natural softness of his belly, tapping it once. “This is much too empty.”
Tom twitches like he’s been electrified and parts his lips, meeting Harry’s eyes. “Fill it, then,” he manages, lips curling into a smile. Everything he does feels beyond his control, as if his body is deciding for him, but he doesn’t mind at all.
The Alpha groans, pressing down slightly for just a second and intensifying that heat inside Tom just a little more before he pulls away and vanishes Tom’s trousers and underwear with a twitch of his fingers. It’s a casual display of power as much as it’s a way to speed things up, and Tom, struck with awed pride, lets the older boy fold his legs up gently and spread them to bare Tom’s newly formed genitalia to his gaze.
“Hold them here,” Harry says with a low voice, settling back on his knees, the outline of his cock straining against the dark fabric of his trousers.
Tom does, feeling much more at ease than when Madam Pomfrey had asked to look - partially because his feet are up in the air and not flat on the bed, so he could theoretically kick Harry away should he want to. He doesn’t want to: that’s probably also a factor. With this Alpha in front of him, he just feels ravishing. Coveted.
He’s slicking so much it’s soaking the sheets beneath him, feeling another trail run down every few heartbeats, and he reeks of desire to an extent that he can smell it on himself. Harry watches him with dark eyes ringed by bright green and runs his hands down the insides of Tom’s thighs, toward his cock and what lies beneath.
“Such a pretty cunt,” Harry murmurs. “Nice and pink.”
The comment, perhaps offhanded, leaves Tom a little breathless, all lingering doubts and fears about his new genitalia and the Beta-ishness of his body leaving him in the wake of an Alpha, the one he’d been courting for a few weeks now, treating it as the most normal and loveliest thing in the world. Somewhere deep inside him he despises that words like these have this effect on him now - but they do, and he can’t help but suddenly feel rather beautiful, stretched out and bare in front of a strong, handsome Alpha who won’t find him lacking.
Harry hums, rubbing his fingers exploratorily along Tom’s sensitive new labia, pushing them apart a little to expose the hole between them. Slick covers Tom’s folds as he does, and Tom breathes carefully, eyes glued to the messy head of hair between his legs. As if he can sense Tom looking, Harry meets his gaze. He smiles, then; teeth showing and canines glinting, and wraps one hand around Tom’s stiff cock, pumping it just once before gathering the fluid that beads at the top with his index finger.
The older boy tastes it, running his tongue along the digit, and makes a noise of pleasure Tom has never heard before. It’s a deep, rumbling sound - one that sends Tom’s brain into overdrive, flooding him with dopamine. It feels so good - so good to please his Alpha, and Tom suddenly wants to do everything he can to do it again.
He spreads his legs just that little wider, the fire inside his belly growing in intensity, and tilts his chin up and away to bare his neck in invitation. Harry’s smile widens in return, and he returns to his exploration of Tom’s cunt, pressing and pulling carefully to tease more and more blood into the area. He leans down, too, pressing his nose against the crook of Tom’s leg, before trailing down - past Tom’s cock, brushing just shy of it, until he’s breathing hot and deep against the very source of Tom’s scent.
When Harry presses his lips against Tom’s hole, parting them to press the flat of his tongue just above where Tom aches to be filled, Tom can’t help but jerk at the sensation, thighs clenching closed on their own accord. The Alpha doesn’t seem to mind; he licks Tom languidly, drawing the movements out as he drags the flat of his tongue in lazy strokes over Tom’s gushing hole, up toward the base of his cock and then down again.
“Alpha,” Tom breathes, clenching his eyes shut and trying not to tense his thighs, though it’s harder than it sounds. “I need…”
The textured drag of Harry’s tongue has a strange, coiling feeling growing in Tom’s abdomen. It doesn’t really feel like an impending orgasm - more like rug burn inside his pelvis, like it’s too much all at once, though Tom can’t bring himself to push Harry’s head away to stop the feeling.
“Alpha,” he tries again, hands flying down to grab Harry’s hair when the older boy presses his mouth harder against Tom’s cunt. “Get - in me.”
He can’t quite tell if it’s relief or loss he feels when Harry pulls away, though the sight of the Alpha’s lips and chin, shiny with his slick, sends another almost painful stab of arousal through him. Tom clenches down on nothing, whining softly at the feeling.
“You’re so small,” Harry says, dilated eyes meeting Tom’s, licking his lips like a starving man. “You’ll take my cock, of course - that’s not up for debate. But you will have to be patient, Omega, so I don’t tear you. I want this to be good for you.” He presses one hand softly against Tom’s abdomen again, just above his cock. “It takes easier if you feel good,” he says softly, eyes dark.
A moment passes before Tom realises what he’s saying, and the pleasure that courses through him then is indescribable. “Do it,” he demands, panting softly and trying not to squirm too much. “I want it. Breed me, Alpha.”
Harry hums and pushes down a little harder, pinning Tom’s hips to the bed. With his other hand he presses against Tom’s cunt, testing the give of his entrance.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Harry says, pressing at Tom’s sensitive cunt with the pad of his thumb, the blunt nails of his claws moving just shy of grazing his flesh. “In the hospital wing, the other night. I can smell it. A fresh Omega, having his first heat.” The Alpha smiles, showing his teeth, and presses his thumb in slowly - savouring the moment and Tom’s reaction. Tom gasps, heart hammering in his chest and breath coming short and fast at the sensation of his cunt being stretched. Harry presses down, pulling at the taut flesh of Tom’s entrance. It feels as tight as a rubber band, the stretch, and Tom squirms with a soft noise.
Harry clicks his tongue, letting up and pushing deeper before pulling back again and repeating the motion - that gentle pressure, testing at Tom’s tight entrance before he makes a thrusting movement. Like the real thing - like testing the push of a knot against him. It’s nowhere near the actual feeling, of course, but Tom’s body still reacts as desired, going just that little more lax, making the slide and push just that little easier.
“See?” Harry says. “It’s better this way, Omega. There’s no need to rush.” He pulls back, then presses his index finger into Tom’s body, curling it deep to rub against the flesh deep inside Tom’s cunt, simply feeling. Tom lets out a soft noise, trying to angle his hips up further so it goes deeper. Harry’s knuckles press against his flesh, and the pad of his thumb traces the bottom of Tom’s cock, rubbing there for a minute before he pulls back and presses a second finger to Tom’s entrance, pushing in slowly and carefully. There’s a bit of a pinch, pressure bordering on the edge of discomfort, but it never hurts, and the stretch feels nice, when the Alpha’s fingers are pressed deep inside and rest there.
They pull back slowly and fuck back in, teasing apart a little inside Tom to stretch him just that bit further, and Tom squirms, breathing heavier as the slick noises of Harry’s fingers moving in and out of him fill the space between them. He wants to get fucked - wants that impressive shadow straining against the older boy’s trousers stuffed inside him and ready to pump him full of seed.
It doesn’t take very long for Harry to work Tom up to three fingers, though it feels like a small eternity. Through it, Tom can smell Harry’s arousal, fire in his lungs that spreads all the way down and simply increases the incredible heat in his abdomen - a positive feedback loop, pushing each other to a fever pitch that will inevitably result in them seeking their end with each other’s bodies.
“You must be feeling desperate,” Harry hums, eyes dark and fixed on the place where his fingers disappear into Tom’s body. “You smelled desperate right from the start. I wasn’t going to do anything, you know, but I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. You’re such a pretty Omega. Your body knew what it wanted, even if your mind didn’t.”
It’s just rut talk, Tom tries to convince himself, even though all it does is make him feel weak and even wetter instead of nervous, the liquid trailing down his arse to soak the sheets underneath them. He feels so empty, so needy, even with three of Harry’s fingers stuffed inside him - but he’s got a feeling that until the older boy’s cockhead is pressed snug against his cervix he’s going to end up begging.
“That’s right,” the Alpha says, voice low and bordering on a growl. “Desperate for my cock, aren’t you?”
Tom can’t even deny it. He nods wantonly, rolling his hips down against Harry’s fingers so he’s almost fucking himself on them, wishing they went deeper. Harry seems in no mood to tease him, and pulls away, licking his slick-soaked fingers off and moaning like the taste is the sweetest thing in the world, unfastening the top three buttons of his collar with his free hand. Then he reaches down and pulls off his shirt, tugging it over his head and popping several buttons as he does, and he undoes his fly before he seems to get annoyed and simply vanishes his trousers and underwear. His erect cock rests thick and heavy against his toned thigh when Tom dares to look, and Tom’s eyes widen at the size of it - at the size of the deflated knot at the base of the shaft, just a slight increase in girth as it is right now.
Tom’s cock isn’t small by any measure, having undergone Beta puberty growth before Omega hormones could redirect the growing efforts elsewhere, but Harry’s Alpha cock is easily one and a half times his size. Three fingers doesn’t feel like nearly enough.
Harry smiles at him, all teeth. “Are you worried?” he croons. “It will fit, Omega. I’ll make it fit.” Then he wraps a hand around his cock, pumping it a few times and squeezing at his deflated knot as he shifts closer, settling himself firmly between Tom’s spread thighs. He grabs Tom’s hips, too, pulling them up so that his arse is resting on Harry’s knees, leaving just enough space between Harry’s cock and Tom’s cunt to adjust.
The alpha lets go of his cock and Tom’s hips to rest his hands on the crooks of Tom’s thighs, reaching down to Tom’s taint. Harry hums as he spreads Tom’s cunt open with his thumbs, resting his cockhead just beneath the opening, ready to nudge up and split him apart.
“You’re so tiny,” the older boy coos, rolling his hips in an aborted movement so precum smears all over Tom’s taint. “So wet.” He looks dangerous, smiling down at Tom’s cunt with dark, dilated eyes. “I think I’ll ruin you for anyone else, hmm?”
He lets go with one hand, grabbing his cock to guide it against Tom’s entrance, and that first touch feels like electricity. Tom struggles not to jerk in place even though Harry hasn’t even applied much pressure yet, simply resting against him. The Alpha hums again, rubbing his cockhead further against the small hole and intensifying the smell of precum between them. A small bit of slick drools out of Tom and he breathes carefully, stomach quivering in anticipation and need.
The first press in comes a moment later, and it hurts, despite the stretching and preparation Harry had done earlier. There’s a pinching burn at the skin of Tom’s pelvis and he thinks he feels something tear a little. Harry is gentle but relentless - pushing in at a fixed, slow pace, not giving Tom any time to adjust to the flare of his cockhead, lips curled back from bared teeth as he watches his cock slowly disappear into Tom’s body despite the resistance.
There’s a sort of dull not-quite pop that Tom feels more than he hears as they pass the widest part of the cockhead, and suddenly everything goes a lot faster as Harry sinks deep inside him. Tom can still feel the stretch at his- his hymen, he supposes, but deeper in he doesn’t feel very much apart from full. It feels good. Very good.
“Ohh,” Tom gasps out when Harry pushes in to the top of his deflated knot, and cants his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. “Alpha.”
Harry growls softly - a pleased, possessive sound, one that tells Tom that he isn’t going to get out of this without having been thoroughly knotted and seeded. He gives Tom a moment to get used to his size, holding still aside from miniscule twitches of his hips, and Tom can’t help but appreciate the care his Alpha is showing him. He feels overheated, sweat covering every inch of his skin, and he pants wetly for a moment before the lack of movement begins bothering him, a persistent ache deep in his abdomen begging to be filled. Tom squirms, rolling his hips, lips trembling when he feels the increase in girth that forms Harry’s deflated knot at his entrance.
In response Harry bares his teeth, eyes wild and vibrant as they meet Tom’s, and the older boy draws back before thrusting back in, setting a fast, shallow pace, fucking Tom right up to the top of his knot. Even without the additional length that consists Harry’s knot, he feels incredible - reaching deep inside Tom, just shy of where Tom’s body truly wants him. It’s a euphoric feeling, finally being filled with the sheer girth of an Alpha’s cock, being spread open on it.
“You’re so good,” Tom gasps, practically shoved across the bed with each thrust. “You feel so good-”
“Good boy,” Harry growls. “You’re mine now, pretty Omega. I’ll kill every knothead who looks at you.”
It’s a ridiculous statement, but Tom can’t help the way he croons encouragingly, rolling his hips to meet the Alpha’s thrusts.
When Harry’s movements slow down, it’s because they go deeper, pressing into Tom right up to the top of Harry’s deflated knot. He tests the give, pushing a little further, threatening at Tom’s cunt with the slight swell until Tom’s breath hitches. Then Harry draws back, just a little, and presses forward again, fucking his knot slowly but surely into Tom’s body, one inch at a time. It’s a slow, agonising process, not painful as much as it makes Tom absolutely tremble with sensation.
When it’s all the way in - gods, it’s all the way in - and Harry’s pelvis presses against his, trapping Tom’s cock between their bodies so he smears precum across the older boy’s stomach, Harry stops moving for a moment, panting across Tom’s throat. Tom can feel where Harry’s cock encounters resistance at his cervix - where his belly curves out just a little bit over the curve of Harry’s cock. The Alpha moans quietly before he begins drawing back, stretching Tom over the width of his deflated knot again and pulling it free - just his knot - before fucking back in.
It’s a sensation intense enough to make Tom kick out harmlessly, knocking his knee lightly against Harry’s side, but the older boy doesn’t let up. He snaps his hips forward and pulls back, stretching Tom’s cunt over his knot with single-minded focus. He straightens up again, too, droplets of sweat trailing down his neck and chest, his hair sticking to his forehead and nape with perspiration.
Tom eventually manages to relax - or loosen up - enough that the fucking of Harry’s deflated knot in and out of Tom’s body no longer feels like a constant resistance, the glide of the slightly raised skin against Tom’s entrance going a lot smoother than before.
Harry pulls out, then, and pushes Tom onto his front before hauling his hips up and driving back in. He feels like he goes impossibly deeper this way - so deep it almost hurts, and Tom whines, twisting his head to the side so he can breathe. He sees stars every time Harry bottoms out, pushing insistently at Tom’s cervix with his cockhead. It feels so good, so right.
A slight swelling at the base of Harry’s cock has Tom on high alert the second he feels it stretch his abused hymen even further. In response Harry’s hand flies up to Tom’s nape and grips him there tightly, pressing his neck down into the sheets as he speeds up, snapping his hips forward and driving his growing knot in and out of Tom’s body with increasing difficulty. The pressure point takes Tom off guard with how effectively it renders him useless - he can no longer meet Harry’s brutal thrusts, nor can he clench down on the thick cock inside him. In fact, he’s almost entirely lax - and for good reason, he realises, jerking involuntarily when a particularly painful squeeze in pinches sharply at his entrance: he’s going to tear at this rate.
The resistance from Tom’s body, even as he’s entirely loose and useless, doesn’t seem to dissuade Harry in the slightest from driving his knot relentlessly into Tom’s body, a low, stuttering growl sounding from the Alpha’s throat as he does. The older boy pulls back with extreme difficulty, his knot popping free with a gush of slick and a pained noise from Tom, and proceeds to immediately push it back in again. The grinding, bullying movements of Harry’s swollen knot against Tom’s cunt feel incredible as much as they hurt. Harry just keeps pressing forward, the pressure beginning to mount as Tom tries not to struggle.
He whines, panic clawing at the edges of his mind as Harry pushes in and in and in - and then his body gives way to his Alpha’s knot. It doesn’t end there, though Tom’s body thinks it does, and he comes hard, sparks flying through his vision. Through it his Alpha’s knot keeps swelling and swelling, the older boy’s hips retreating as far as he can without hurting Tom before shoving back in and grinding down in aborted little thrusts. It keeps going and going and growing, and Harry still doesn’t let up on Tom’s nape.
Tom thinks he might burst at this rate, stretched to beyond his limits. It takes a few more moments of swelling, and then - then something tips in the back of Tom’s mind, and his lower body seizes up, clenching down so hard it hurts and locking Harry’s knot in definitively.
And then Harry comes.
If Tom thought he’d been wet before, it’s nothing compared to the feeling of being filled with an Alpha’s cum. It’s hot and thick, a distinct feeling that has Tom’s stomach swooping, and it spreads higher than Harry’s cock reaches. Into his uterus, Tom realises. He’s going to get pregnant.
The want that courses through his body at the thought - it’s indescribable, and he makes a noise of unrestrained pleasure, clenching down harder to draw another flood of hot cum into himself.
Harry pants above him, a few beads of sweat dripping onto Tom’s naked back, and he lowers himself slowly so they’re lying flush, Tom almost crushed under Harry’s weight.
“Gonna breed you so good,” he moans, teeth scraping over Tom’s nape as he speaks. Tom’s breathing heavy too, his body clenching down like it’s trying to crush Harry’s knot, baring his neck invitingly. “I’ll give you anything you want, Omega. I’ll fuck you full of a litter.”
Harry clamps his jaw down on Tom’s neck, sharp teeth sinking into Tom’s mating gland, finally giving him the only other thing he wants right now - and Tom comes hard again, shuddering apart with an orgasm so intense it’s almost painful and making a mess of the sheets below him. Inside him there’s another flood of cum, so hot and perfect that Tom feels a quiet, stuttering purr begin to sound in his chest as he gasps for breath.
“Pretty thing,” Harry murmurs when he lets up his teeth. “I’ll give you the world.”
Notes:
Everyone: oh no this poor omega he’s so helpless in his circumstances :( are you okay tom did harry take advantage of you. Do you want to leave :( i’ll help you
Tom: harry, fuck me again right now before i begin screaming
I kind of have the feeling some people take issue with me giving tom a vagina, and i'm just gonna say: i don't particularly want to describe ass babies. giving babygirl a fanny was the easiest way to circumvent that, and it had the benefit of giving him, essentially, a completely new body part - sensitivity included. that's fun because it lets me write scenes like the above.
(and i just really like boys with vaginas in fic. this is probably the first time you've seen me do it but it won't be the last.)
thanks for reading! leave me compliments, i love all of ya <333
Chapter 3
Notes:
hi. this is. um. 7.5k. it's all porn. every single part of it. have fun?
ft: tom being a flagrant whore, again, harry being happily steamrolled, again, and we inch closer to tom facing, finally, some good fucking consequences.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Tom wakes to the sensation of something sliding slowly in and out of his cunt, creating gentle friction against his insides that makes his cock leak, straining against his stomach. He lets out a breath, pleasantly loose and warm, pressed up against his Alpha’s warm body. There’s nothing left to separate skin from skin, the tattered remains of Tom’s shirt vanished.
“Are you awake, Omega?” Harry asks softly, pressing his hips forward so his cock pushes deeper into Tom’s body, creating pressure inside his abdomen as it presses against his cervix. Tom’s leg is lifted just a little bit, held up by Harry’s warm, large hand to create space between his thighs that the older boy can fill. Tom hums in assent. “That’s good,” Harry says, smiling against the side of Tom’s neck, just under his ear. “I can’t knot you like this.”
He shifts his weight, rolling onto Tom’s body so the Alpha’s larger form squishes him down, cock still inside him. It knocks the breath out of Tom, deliciously so, and Tom goes boneless with a little ‘oomph’ before he’s straining at the seams again as Harry presses his deflated knot back into Tom’s body. The process is slow but steady, aided by gravity, and when it’s in all the way, Tom whines and twists his hands into the bedsheets, already craving that mutual lock of a knot and the fullness that comes with it.
“Hurry up,” he says breathlessly. “Knot me, Alpha.”
Harry doesn’t need to respond - the way he pulls back, tugging his knot free before pushing back in and setting a fast pace that Tom would call selfish if he didn’t know he’d come either way once the knot locked. He arches his back just a little, spreading his legs so his Alpha can fuck him easier and harder, and moans encouragingly when the older boy’s teeth graze his neck over his broken gland. It hurts a little - it stings, the contact, aching deep like any bruise would, but the rush of endorphins to Tom’s brain more than makes up for it.
It doesn’t take Harry long to knot him, thank Merlin, his rut in full swing now, and he crushes Tom’s body down with his own when he swells too much to withdraw. Tom whimpers into the sheets, staving off his own reflexive orgasm with sheer willpower, wanting to save it for when his body reciprocates, curious what the so-called ‘knot high’ feels like.
He feels it moments later when the swelling tips something deep inside him, and his pelvic muscles tighten hard around Harry’s knot. He can’t stop himself from coming then - and he comes so hard it almost feels like he wets himself with the force of it, the knot feeling like it’s pressing down on the other side of his cock, inside his body. It feels - it feels incredible. Having orgasmed shortly before getting knotted properly last time, Tom’s nerves had been too numb still to feel it properly, but now-
“Alpha,” he gasps, moaning. “Alpha, I love you, I love you-”
His orgasm feels like it goes on forever , drawn out by the thick, heavy spurts of seed inside his body and the knot pressing him open and him clamping down on it like his life depends on it. He goes dizzy with it, white blotting his vision as he gasps, clenches, and feels himself being filled with come.
“There we go,” Harry says in a growl, breathing heavily, his hands cupping over Tom’s ribs and holding him, anchoring him. “That’s right, gorgeous little thing. That’s it, isn’t it? You’ve figured out how to make this so very good for both of us.”
“It feels so good,” Tom agrees mindlessly with a moan, raising his head to press his cheek against Harry’s, purring hard. Harry rumbles in return, the vibrations of his chest pressed against Tom’s back, and it fills him with warmth. “You’re so good, Alpha. Your knot… I want you forever.” He feels so warm, so comfortable, so sated, blanketed under his Alpha’s large and strong form like he’s being hidden from the world.
Harry smiles against Tom’s skin, pressing his teeth to Tom’s jaw and pressing his tongue to the gathered sweat there. “You’ll have me forever,” Harry promises, rolling his hips so he shoves himself just that bit deeper, his knot stirring up Tom’s insides.
Tom whines softly, clenching down to keep his Alpha in place inside him, where he should be, and he gasps in surprise when the movement draws another gush of cum inside him, filling him up so perfectly. Oh , he realises, this is just like when his body tightens on its own to lock Harry in - but then again, and again, and he can do it whenever he wants; can draw that incredible feeling of being bred into himself with just this. Making a soft noise of awe, he drops his head back to the mattress and grinds up, clenching down hard on purpose-
Harry growls, a low sound of deep approval, and jerks his hips forward into Tom’s cunt, more heat spreading into his body. There’s a pressure beginning to build deep inside him, and Tom honestly can’t tell exactly what it is. It doesn’t feel exactly like an orgasm, nor like urine - but there it is, pressing ever so slightly inside his stomach. Tom doesn’t mind the feeling at all. In fact, he thinks deliriously as he clenches hard again, intent on wringing his mate well and truly dry, the sensation of it is deeply arousing, twisting slowly but surely into a far more familiar tightening of his abdomen. He’s going to come again, Tom realises breathlessly, and he’s going to do it from just the feeling of cum inside him, his cock trapped between his body and the mattress.
“Alpha,” he purrs, tilting his head to expose his neck to Harry’s mouth, exposing yet unbruised and unbroken flesh. “Mark me more,” he demands. “I want to be yours. I want to have no spaces left where anyone else can try and-”
He doesn’t need to elaborate further. Harry’s teeth come down hard on his neck, his steady growl turning dangerous for a moment, and Tom’s voice breaks with a moan at the sparks that fly through his vision. The pain of the bite overtakes him, leaving him useless with the rush of endorphins, his body acting on its own to grind back as he comes hard, making a mess of the sheets below them. It hurts - the pain erases all thoughts from his mind, turns him stupid, and whatever's not gone by then gets swept away by the heady reward of more cum being drawn into his clenching, aching cunt.
Harry lets up a long moment later, tongue soothing over the bite, the scent of copper spilling between them. Tom blinks dazedly at the sheets, breathing shakily. And then Harry bites again. The Alpha’s teeth dig in just aside from where he’d bitten before, still on Tom’s claiming mark, and Tom loses track of all sensation for a moment, vision going white-grey. He came again, he realises, panting hard against the damp sheets beneath his face. Just from being bitten. And there - the feeling of being bred, of being pumped full. The combination is as painful as it is addicting.
He doesn’t have to wait long - Harry bites down again, and again, and again, snarling against his skin as he does, turning the skin of his mating gland into a bloody mess and practically forcing spurts of useless cum out of Tom’s cock with every bite. The older boy doesn’t seem to want to deprive him of this brand-new fix, content to pump as much semen into Tom as he can force his body to milk out of him.
The Alpha stops at some point to press his nose against the space just above the gloriously mangled remains of Tom’s skin, groaning with slight oversensitivity, his knot pulsing with blood against Tom’s sensitive cunt. Tom lets out a breath, relaxing as the lingering remnants of his copious orgasms carry through his body in the form of nerves prickling under his skin and then slowly abate, leaving him trembling below the heavy, spent form of his Alpha.
He catches his breath and tries to let the worst of the tremors pass, closing his eyes and going lax. He’s sure he’ll be tied to Harry for quite a long time more - he vaguely recalls being taught about knots remaining for a significant amount of time, provided they’re locked in in return. An hour, he thinks he remembers. Something along those lines. Plenty of space to ruin himself for anyone else.
“Bite me more,” Tom demands when he gets his breath back. “Not just the bonding gland - all my neck. I only want you , Alpha.”
His Alpha hesitates, mouth still so close to Tom’s nape. “I could hurt you,” Harry says hoarsely, copper on his breath. “I don’t…”
Tom cheats - he whines, low and drawn out. It’s a noise he’s never made before in his life, but it comes naturally to him, and he can feel how every atom in Harry’s body becomes attuned to him, to his needs.
“They’ll steal me away,” Tom breathes once he’s sure Harry is listening. “I don’t want them to even have the space to try.”
Harry groans softly as he shifts and opens his mouth, panting heavily against the skin under Tom’s jaw, the hunger in his breath almost tangible. Tom sighs in bliss, anticipation filling his every cell. And then his neck is pierced by agony.
Away from Tom’s mating gland, there is no reflexive orgasm to dampen the pain, and Tom stifles his pained gasp by digging his teeth hard into his lower lip, unable to truly prevent the small noise that escapes him. He needn’t have worried that his reaction would deter his Alpha, however, as Harry, driven by a newfound lust Tom can only guess at, draws back for just a moment only to bite down again, and again, and again, all over Tom’s neck, growling rabidly as he does. Each bite is lightning-quick; teeth crunching down with determined violence, enough to bleed, and at the first touch of blood, they retreat and find some other place.
It hurts like hell. Tom has never been harder in his life.
Tears stream down his face, and yet every time his Alpha’s jaw clamps down over his skin his body is filled with incredible lightness, the fleeting pain of breaking skin transforming within seconds into ecstasy.
“A- haah!” he cries out, interrupted when Harry bites at the edge of his tattered mating gland, eyes wide and wet. He tries again. “Al-pha, I love you,” he rushes out, and keens at the growling purr the words elicit in Harry’s chest.
After an eternity and yet far too soon, every part of Tom’s neck seems to be covered in sluggishly bleeding bite marks. Apparently content with his work, Harry begins licking the blood away instead, laving his tongue gently over the deepest punctures and purring hard. Tom’s completely limp beneath him, panting wetly into the more than damp sheets under his head, but he gathers all his strength one last time to lift his head the slightest bit and drag a part of one of the blankets from his nest over the wet patch.
Harry doesn’t fight him or try to keep him still, as Tom has been told most Alphas are wont to do during knotting, but instead helps him, cradling Tom’s cheek to keep his head elevated as they move the blanket into place. The assistance is more than appreciated, and Tom makes his pleasure known by clenching down a little a few times in mimicry of orgasmic contractions. He’s hard, so he could try to make himself come, but his eyes are already falling shut, his breathing evening out and sending him into a deep, restful sleep.
“Wake up, Omega,” A voice croons lovingly in his ear. “You’ve got to eat, pretty thing. I’ll help you fix your nest.”
Tom blinks slowly to awareness, nestled close to his Alpha with his nose against the older boy’s throat. He feels a little disoriented - he’s not sure what time it is, how long they’ve been there - but he does know Harry isn’t knotted inside him like he should be. He’s not sure exactly when they got turned around, either, but both are easily fixed.
“Alpha,” he sighs against the skin beneath his lips, intending to seduce. “I’m so empty…” He casts a sly gaze up at Harry, pleased when the older boy’s eyes are still dilated and rut-struck, like green circles of light.
“I’ll fill you later,” Harry says, and despite it being almost a rejection, Tom can’t help but melt into the promise. “I need to get you fed, darling thing. You’ve got to take care of the pups I’m going to fuck into you, don’t you? Making sure you have enough in your body to support yourself and the little ones?” It’s a comforting, teasing tone, and Tom feels warm.
He nods against Harry’s jugular, suddenly feeling shy. It takes him aback, still, how much he wants it. Harry seems to feel the same - his hand snakes down to cover Tom’s stomach, the slightly tense skin there, the warmth of his palm bleeding into Tom’s flesh and warming him from the inside as much as his words do.
“Good boy,” Harry croons, slipping away from him carefully to turn, stretching out a hand toward one of the dressers. From it, a bowl comes flying, caught neatly in Harry’s palm to halt its trajectory. “Here we go, Omega. Do you like fruits?”
Fruits are still a luxury to Tom - of course he likes them. And he doesn’t want to seem ungrateful, doesn’t want to say it, but…
“I don’t like raspberries,” he confesses softly. He’d tried every fruit they offered at Hogwarts, and none had made him feel quite as queasy as raspberries had.
Harry hums sympathetically. “Then I’ll leave the raspberries out,” he says, placing the bowl down next to him to run his hand through Tom’s undoubtedly mussed hair, helping him sit up a little in a way that keeps as much cum trapped inside Tom as possible. “Anything else?”
Tom shakes his head, and Harry smiles before grabbing a piece of sugar-dried fruit and pressing it to his lips, feeding him gently. Tom traps the piece between his teeth, biting down and letting the leftover juice run over his tongue. Mango, he recognises after a moment, chewing diligently and swallowing. The Alpha watches every movement with attentive, dilated eyes, that strange, pleased sound filling the space between them and reducing Tom’s mental faculties to ‘do what Alpha says’ and, aside from that, jelly.
“I love you, Alpha,” he purrs in return when his mouth is once again clear for talking. It’s a reflex, almost. Harry watches him warmly before feeding him another piece.
Harry manages to feed Tom half the bowl before the ache deep inside Tom’s abdomen becomes too much to bear, and he begins squirming, whining softly. True to the older boy’s word, Tom had been fed not a single raspberry, those pieces instead going into Harry’s mouth. It’s a strange sort of thoughtfulness that has Tom’s hips twitching up against the air, his cunt leaking slick copiously.
Harry notices at once, and with a flick of his hand the bowl is sent back to the dresser, dark eyes focused on Tom’s hard cock and his blood-flushed cunt.
“You won’t mind if I feed from you, do you?” he purrs, one hand sliding over Tom’s belly and down, skirting shy of his cock to just below. Eyes glance up to meet his own for a moment before Harry shifts again, his impressive form rising up to hover over Tom’s before settling on his knees between Tom’s legs. Large warm hands roam over Tom’s messy thighs, massaging the combination of cum and slick into his skin. “When you’re plump with my pups and no longer so thin, you’ll let me taste your sweet milk, won’t you?”
Tom nods breathlessly. He can imagine it, too - visibly pregnant, with a rounded belly and budding breasts, sitting on a loveseat as Harry eases the pressure of his aching chest by nursing at him while kneeling between his legs.
“You can’t get jealous of the pups,” Tom teases lightly, heart aflutter in his chest. “They’ll be dependent on it, unlike you.”
Harry hums. “I guess I’ll have to take satisfaction in the source meant for me, then,” he says, and lifts Tom’s knees over his shoulders before diving straight in. He licks at Tom’s cunt like he’s starving, fastening his mouth over the flesh and sucking in a way that makes Tom want to squirm away like it hurts as much as he wants to press closer at the chance to get Harry’s tongue inside him.
It’s like the older boy can read his mind, and Harry moans like it’s his pleasure as he presses his tongue into the snug opening of Tom’s cunt, licking at the mixture of Tom’s slick and his own cum, his breath coming hard through his nose and brushing against Tom’s pubic hair as he licks and sucks and swallows like Tom’s the best meal he’s ever had.
Tom’s thighs tremble with the attempt to maintain his composure, soft noises of pleasure escaping his throat as he tilts his head back, one hand half-heartedly pressed to his mouth to muffle himself and the other twisting into Harry’s hair to press his face harder against Tom’s cunt. Harry moans softly again, unfaltering in the movements of his mouth, and eats Tom out like it’s his favourite meal. Like he can’t tear himself away. Tom doesn’t mind - he crosses his ankles behind Harry’s head and pushes his heels into the older boy’s shoulder blades to keep him close, to keep his mouth on him.
It’s not enough - Tom thinks he won’t even orgasm if he gets sucked off like that time an overeager beta girl had approached him near an empty classroom and asked him if he’d wanted to try it. His stupid heat makes him want one thing and one thing only.
Making a noise of frustration, Tom pulls Harry’s head back by his hair, enjoying the sight of the Alpha reflexively baring his teeth at him. He untangles his legs from behind Harry’s back and spreads them wide.
“Knot me already,” he says, a little more breathless than he’d like.
Harry’s snarl turns languid, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He looks so soft - unlike an Alpha, really, save for the brilliant glowing green of his eyes and the dried blood smeared around his mouth. And the fangs, though those aren’t visible anymore.
“I want to try something first,” he says, positioning two fingers against Tom’s cunt and pressing them inside without warning, all the way in. Tom sighs in relief, hips twitching up to fuck back against them. “I’ve read about it, but I’ve never tried it.”
“What’s that?” Tom asks. Harry doesn’t answer at first, pulling his fingers back until only the tips and then some remain inside Tom’s cunt.
“I wonder… is it..?” Harry murmurs, and crooks his fingers just inside Tom’s cunt, pressing them against the inside of his vaginal opening. They seek there for a moment, pushing against the flesh inside, and then -
“Ohhhh-oh,” Tom gasps out, eyes rolling back as his body seizes up, slick practically gushing out around Harry’s fingers. Like a switch, cum spurts out of his cock, too, landing messily on his stomach. “Alpha, Alpha-”
The older boy makes a noise that is so curiously pleased that Tom wonders how long he’s been thinking about trying this.
“That’s your knot gland,” Harry whispers like it’s a secret. “Usually that’s where the widest part of my knot goes, and it gets activated at a certain… pressure. It makes you clench down so very hard and tight, like now, particularly at the entrance, to lock in whatever knot is inside you.”
He shifts the angle of his fingers, digging in harder, and Tom shouts in surprise, back arching clean off the bed. Another stripe of cum joins the ones already on his skin, a little higher now.
“See?” Harry gushes, petting the base of Tom’s straining cock with his thumb. “I can recreate it with my fingers. Isn’t that nice?”
Nice doesn’t sound like the right word. Electrifying, perhaps. Agonising, considering the accompanying pressure at his cervix isn’t there to satisfy his need for being bred. Punishing, even, because while he’s convinced there’s a knot inside him, he can feel no fresh waves of cum.
Tom whimpers, bucking his hips again desperately. “Alpha,” he whines. “Cum, please, don’t make me wait-”
“Poor thing,” Harry croons, easing the pressure off of Tom’s knotting gland and shifting to hover over Tom’s body. Tom whines at the loss, and can’t quite stifle his sob when he feels Harry pulling his fingers away entirely.
Then the blunt head of Harry’s cock is pushing at his cunt, and Harry grunts as he sinks into Tom’s body, pushing in and in and in until he’s pressing at Tom’s cervix again, filling him up so perfectly. The pleading whine that had been building in Tom’s throat turns into a gasped out moan instead, and he throws his head back, hands shooting to Harry’s shoulders so he can dig his nails in hard.
His body feels numb and raw on the inside, and he’d barely noticed Harry’s deflated knot pushing in at all, though it begins swelling almost immediately once inside. Tom gasps in pleasure, bucking his hips desperately, and Harry’s hand snaps to his neck, curling under his head to grip his nape firmly. The Alpha bares his teeth, eyes lidded as he fucks his growing knot in and out of Tom’s body, his muscles rippling under his skin with every thrust. Harry looks so strong, like this, hovering over Tom’s body and keeping him slack and pliant as he uses Tom for his own pleasure.
“Alpha,” Tom sighs, thighs straining around Harry’s hips as Harry forces his swollen knot in and out of Tom with increasing force, and then presses in and in and in and locks them together definitively with a snarl, hips giving aborted thrusts as his knot grows further. His eyes are so vibrant, and Tom can barely help but get lost in them, bright green circles burning into his retinas. And then-
His entire vision colours green as his eyes roll back, back arching and his hips grinding down in an attempt to milk the knot inside him. He gets his reward soon enough, and the pressure inside his abdomen grows further, turning Tom into a writhing, moaning mess.
“Good boy,” Harry growls, rolling his hips, the sweat-slick skin sliding along Tom’s own. “You’re so pretty when you come on my knot, Omega.”
Tom purrs as he comes down from his orgasm, his heartbeat slowing gradually to a normal pace from its previous frantic hammering. Harry’s hand releases his nape, instead just moving to cradle it gently, and as soon as Tom can move his hands he reaches up to Harry’s shoulders and pulls him down into a strong embrace. Harry goes without resistance, lying down carefully so as to not crush Tom.
The angle is awkward - Tom’s legs are trapped on either side of the older boy’s hips, but a tiny bit of shuffling makes it so that he can fold them in a way that doesn’t ache as much. Smiling contentedly, Tom presses his sweaty cheek against the sheets and closes his eyes, vaguely aware of the slight pulsing of Harry’s knot inside Tom’s cunt that matches the heartbeat he can feel against his chest.
“Next time, you’ll knot me from the back,” Tom complains mildly, eyeing his mate curiously. “My thighs are aching.” When Harry shoots him an unimpressed look, he snaps his teeth playfully - and promptly swallows whatever retort he was about to make next as the Alpha ruts forward a bit, causing another gush of cum to flood Tom’s insides.
“Want to repeat that?” Harry says without bite. Tom squirms a little, trying to close his legs some more, but he’s fairly trapped with Harry’s hips in the way. “I can’t see your cute face when you come from the back, though, sweet Omega,” the older boy adds.
“Use a mirror,” Tom says, and gasps when Harry gives another punishing rock of his hips.
"A bit of a brat, are you?" Harry murmurs in his ear, tracing his lips over the bleeding indents in Tom's neck. "If it's bothering you so much, you should keep clenching nice and tight. That should help."
Tom groans softly, flexing his thighs against Harry's sides. "Not my fault your stupid knot lasts so long."
His Alpha hums. "And who was it that asked me to stay?" he teases, pulling away from Tom's neck to meet his eyes. Tom shakes his head despite the smile tugging at his lips and settles down. He doesn't feel sleepy, nor does he think he can sleep like this, with straining legs and without the comfortable weight of the older boy crushing him to the bed.
"I didn't say anything," Tom denies easily, tilting his head. "I just did..." he pushes his chin up to bare his neck and arches his back, just a little, until his belly brushes Harry's, his half-hard cock trapped between them. "That."
"You knew damn well what you were doing," Harry says with dark eyes, smiling back at Tom. He lowers himself a bit until he's skin to skin with Tom, not quite pressing him into the bed but very close. Tom can't help but relax at the pressure, eyes going lidded. He stares at his mate lazily, raising his hands to Harry's back to dig his nails gently into the skin over his shoulder blades.
They stay like that for a while, and Tom takes every occasion he gets bored to tease and prod at his new mate, trying to find the older boy's limits. In rut there seems to be almost nothing Tom can't do, though admittedly he isn't about to try and actually upset the Alpha he's tied to. Harry seems more than willing to retaliate with gentle nips at his bloody and bruised neck and his less bloody and bruised throat. At one memorable point, he gets Tom to shut up by taking Tom's cock in hand and jerking him through two orgasms right after one another, which leaves Tom breathless and trembling, flushed down to his chest with exertion.
Harry, then, is able to finally begin pulling his knot free. Tom's breath catches the first time he rocks his hips back instead of forward as usual, and it takes him a second to realise what's going on. He hadn't been awake for the process the last two times, but he is now, and he can't help the slight trepidation that makes his back muscles pull tight, freezing him in place.
"Shh," Harry murmurs, pressing his forehead to Tom's for a moment before using the hand still curled across the back of Tom's neck to pull Tom's face against his throat, essentially dousing him in his scent. "Relax, darling thing. Don't hurt yourself."
Tom inhales Harry's scent greedily, grateful for the way it loosens his muscles, turning him boneless and compliant, easy to manoeuvre. He'll leave this process to Harry so his mate can ensure he won't get hurt. Harry makes a soft, comforting noise and pulls back again, testing the lock of their knot, and Tom does his absolute best to stay as relaxed as possible, even as the pressure at the entrance of his cunt grows.
Sweat pricks at the back of Tom's neck as Harry keeps making those small, pulling movements, the smell of his own slick and Harry's cum growing between them. Tom feels his thighs grow wet, and it's a bit of a comfort to know that the knot's small enough that those fluids can escape alongside it now. Then Harry pulls back further, with increasing pressure, and Tom makes a small, stressed noise as it peaks to a new height. The older boy shushes him again, both hands moving down to Tom's ribs and gripping him tightly as he just keeps pulling -
Harry's knot tugs free with a groan from the Alpha in question and a trickle of fluid down along Tom's arse. Tom whimpers softly before he realises he's made the noise, to his embarrassment, but Harry just gathers him close in response, pressing his chest to Tom's and beginning to purr hard and steady - hard enough that Tom swears he can feel it in his toes. Tom's breathing slows gradually, and now that he's able to close his legs and tuck himself beneath his Alpha, he feels fatigue creep up on him.
A nip at his jaw interrupts his steady descent into sleep, however. Tom makes a soft noise, scrunching his nose up, but the feeling of Harry's hard cock pressing against the crook of his thigh has him awake and full of anticipation in mere seconds. He's almost surprised at how powerful his libido is in heat. If only he didn't turn into a moaning, trembling mess at the first press of a cock against his cunt, maybe he could use his following heats to get some work done - aside from the near-constant naps.
"Eyes on me," his Alpha instructs softly, and Tom obeys easily, meeting the older boy's gaze for a moment before letting his eyes drop down to where Harry's body presses up against his. He digs his nails in a little harder, his breath hitching slightly.
"Are you going to fuck me again?" he asks, a touch more breathless than he'd like.
Harry hums in assent. "It seems such a shame to let all my hard work just leak out of you, doesn't it?" He sits up on his knees, folding one of Tom's legs up to his chest and leaving the other one where it is. Tom appreciates the care - his thighs are definitely tender after being trapped in the same position for some time.
Harry presses his fingers gently against the muscles on the insides of Tom's legs, massaging the skin there, and Tom relaxes into it. The mess of fluids there is gathered up and then pressed, along with Harry's fingers, deep into his well-used cunt.
"There we go," Harry murmurs, thumbing at the space under Tom's cock with soft affection. He pulls his fingers back carefully and scoops up some more, pushing it back inside Tom leisurely. The gentle varying pressure feels really nice after the rather overwhelming experience that was Harry's knot pulling free, so he lets it happen without complaint, freely allowing the purr rising in his chest to sound between them.
When Harry considers his work done, he shuffles closer again, folding Tom's other leg up as well, and swiftly presses his cock back into Tom's body, right up to his deflated knot - and then he doesn't stop there, either, pressing in all the way. Tom's back arches. The gasp he gives is more shocked than anything.
"I couldn't resist," Harry says, his smile completely unapologetic. "You're just so lovely, Omega." His hand finds Tom's belly, pressing down there above his own cock. Even with all of Harry's seed inside him, there's still a noticeable curve where the Alpha's cock ends.
"Don't knot me like this again," Tom manages, though he admits having his knees pressed to his chest feels nicer than his legs spread.
"I won't," Harry says distractedly, pulling his knot back out ever so slowly, in a way that makes Tom absolutely writhe - and once it's out, shoving it back in at once. Tom gasps out, prevented from kicking out blindly by Harry's iron grip on his legs. The older boy smiles, showing his teeth, and repeats the motion again. Pulls his deflated knot back slowly, dragging it out at the widest point, and once it's out, doesn't bother pulling the rest of his cock out along with it before snapping his hips back forward and forcing it all back in.
“Alpha,” Tom whines, toes curling as Harry does it again, and again, and again. “You’ll knot me if you keep doing that-”
“I don’t think so,” the Alpha murmurs, grinding his hips forward into Tom at his cock’s deepest point, just to get Tom to clench down, to watch him squirm. “I do have a limit, you know.”
Tom’s very sure they’ve hit nowhere near that limit yet - but he wisely keeps that thought to himself, instead trying his best not to tense up tight whenever Harry’s cockhead presses firm and insistently against his cervix, though he can’t keep the reflexive noises out of his mouth.
“Mmm- Alpha, please-” Tom moans out, pushing his hips up to meet Harry’s thrusts, or perhaps to avoid his mate pulling his deflated knot out of Tom’s tender cunt.
“Now I’m just getting confused,” Harry teases with dark eyes. “Do you want me to knot you or not?”
Tom doesn’t even get to answer. On the next thrust, Harry pulls out completely with a low curse and throws Tom onto his hands and knees in a single movement like he weighs nothing before pushing back in. Just in time, too, Tom realises with a punched-out gasp, because Harry’s knot is already growing again. His nape is gripped firmly, again, and Tom goes entirely limp, again, occasionally twitching helplessly as Harry relentlessly bullies his knot into Tom’s body.
He’d fallen asleep immediately after being knotted and seeded, Tom realises when he blinks awake some time later. He doesn’t remember anything except coming so hard his vision bled white. He feels heavier around the middle than he did before, and he pushes himself off the furnace underneath him to feel at his abdomen, which is softer and fuller than he ever remembers it being. The action brings his attention to his cunt, which twinges in warning at the strain of being pulled at by the knot firmly stuck inside him, and the fact that Harry is sleeping beneath him, his dark lashes brushing against his cheeks and one arm thrown up beside his head like he’s an infant.
Tom takes a moment to gain his bearings. He’s full, pleasantly so, and he’s got a feeling he hasn’t been knotted for long since the heat hasn’t begun gnawing at his capability for rational thought yet. On top of this, he distinctly remembers Harry knotting him while Tom was on his hands and knees. The most logical conclusion then is that Harry had fucked and knotted Tom while he’d been asleep, and then arranged him like this so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable. Tom smiles to himself, pleased at both the initiative and care his mate is showing.
As if his mate’s entirely aware of his every movement, Harry’s eyes crack open a little bit, vibrant green dulled slightly by sleep.
“Hello, Omega,” Harry murmurs, reaching out to carefully caress Tom’s outer thigh. “I would have woken you up, but you didn’t stir even when you came twice. Were you tired?”
“I suppose so,” Tom says, sitting up straight so he can close his legs a bit. He deliberates complaining about their position, but to be perfectly honest, it doesn’t feel nearly as bad as when Harry had been lying on top of him and keeping his legs pinned open with his weight. He feels taken care of, mostly. Tom smiles, bringing one foot up to plant it against Harry’s shoulder. “Were you sleeping just now, Alpha?”
Harry nods, eyes going hooded. He reaches up to Tom’s ankle, and Tom expects him to push his foot away - but he doesn’t, instead encasing Tom’s foot in his warm hands.
“You feel a bit cold,” he says, smiling up at Tom warmly. In response, Tom wiggles his foot free, dragging his toes languidly over Harry’s throat. Harry’s hands move to cradle his leg instead. He’s not resisting or anything; simply letting Tom do as he likes and using his own body heat to warm him up in the meantime.
He’s such a good Alpha; Tom has chosen well. He can’t help but smile, sitting back and resting his palms back on Harry’s thighs.
He’s not certain how long they’ve been in the Room Of Requirement now - he’s got a feeling it’s perhaps been a day or two, though he doesn’t exactly have a great frame of reference aside from his own sporadic naps and the average duration of his mate’s knot. His heat lasts about a week - six days, just about, if the predictions were correct, so he supposes he’ll know when it’s been a week when it ends.
Tom’s sure he’s flushed with sleep right now, hair unkempt and falling into his face in a way that nobody has seen of him since he was nine, but for some reason, here, with Harry, he doesn’t mind at all.
He takes the moment of relative clarity to finally get around to fixing his stupid, messed-up nest, which has been partly kicked halfway across the bed somehow. When he meets Harry’s eyes during the process, the Alpha looks curiously guilty about the whole thing. Tom’s not too bothered; it’s something Harry can’t really control, and it would be worse if he’d tried to fix it without Tom’s input, but it’s still pleasant that his mate cares this much about keeping his stuff intact. When it’s all back in its place and looking a damn sight finer than before, Tom indulges himself and spends a good half-hour rubbing his face against Harry’s neck affectionately. He deserves it, either way.
Some days and many knots later, Tom’s almost disappointed when he feels the mad, red-tinged fog of unending sex begin to lift from his brain. He’s sulking a bit now, biting with a pout into a crystallised strawberry. They taste really good - the sugar must have preserved the inside perfectly somehow, because it tastes as fresh and juicy as if it had just been plucked. Harry’s his table for today, lying spent and content beneath Tom as he eats and drinks, his knot slowly deflating inside Tom’s body, though Tom is no longer in as much of a hurry to get knotted again.
“I want to fuck you some time,” he says, sticking his strawberry-covered fingers in his mouth and licking them off. Harry frowns in confusion for a moment, and then his eyes widen - and dilate. Tom smiles at him, eyes hooded. “When I’m out of heat, of course, since I can’t come just with stimulation in the front right now.” Except when he’s already knotted, like now, but shoving a knotting toy up his cunt during his heat just so he can get off into his Alpha’s body seems like a waste when he needs more pressingly to be bred.
Harry hums, pleased, and his smile is toothy and interested. “Good thing you produce enough slick for the both of us, isn’t that right?”
“Precisely.” Tom smirks. “I could fuck you anywhere I wanted.”
One of Harry’s hands sneaks down to his arse and squeezes, fingers pressing exploratively at Tom’s rim, massaging at the slick and cum that sticks there. His rut is ending too, a little faster than Tom’s heat, and Tom’s almost thankful for it. His Alpha peak-rut was nearly unbearable; he’d be done with one knot just enough to pull it out, grabbing Tom’s nape if Tom tried to protest, and take precisely enough moments to turn Tom over and bite him somewhere before fucking back into him. Tom’s dead sure the older boy slept perhaps five hours cumulatively in the past week. If he didn’t know it was normal and that Alphas instinctively sleep and eat exceedingly well before and after their ruts to compensate, he’d almost be worried.
Almost.
Tom swats Harry’s hand away and leans forward to support himself lightly by curling his hands over Harry’s throat. He wiggles his hips, raising himself up slightly to test at the knot - and he moans softly when it tugs at his sensitive entrance, stretching his cunt out wide over the girth before it pops free with surprising ease and a gush of cum. Tom bites his lip, clenching down involuntarily on the part of Harry’s cock that’s still inside him, and moves his hips up further. His thighs tremble slightly with the effort, and Tom sighs in relief when he feels the slight flare of Harry’s cockhead pull at his cunt - upon which he drops back down carelessly.
The gasp that is forced out of him when Harry’s knot gets shoved into him again is almost embarrassing. The face of his mate, however, teeth gritted and eyes squeezed half-shut in restrained pleasure, is very much worth it.
Tom shifts just a little, grinning recklessly when Harry’s hands snap to his hips in reflex to keep him in place, and leans forward to place his other hand against Harry’s face, thumbing at his lips until his Alpha obediently parts his teeth and lets Tom press his thumb between them. Tracing over his canines and molars, he rests a bit more of his weight on Harry’s throat as he raises himself up slowly again. Harry moans low in his throat at the movement, hips twitching up but doing nothing aside from that.
Tom pulls himself free of the knot again with a shiver, repositioning his knees to lessen the strain of lifting himself up, and lets himself drop down again, swallowing his noises so he can hear Harry’s own.
“Hnng,” Harry moans softly, careful not to bite down on Tom’s thumb and therefore unable to stifle his little gasps like he usually would. It’s exhilarating, and Tom finds himself wanting to do it for as long as he humanly can; to find every little gasp, moan and sigh his Alpha will give him.
He speeds up his movements, rocking his hips on Harry’s cock, just above his knot, and tightens his fingers a little on his mate’s neck, rubbing his thumb over the older boy’s sharp teeth. Harry lets him, tonguing lazily at the side of Tom's thumb and keeping his eyes on him the entire time. His gaze is hooded, eyes as dilated as can be. The sight of him is incredible; so pliant and lovely, occasionally panting out soft moans that put the porn Tom has seen to shame.
Tom licks his lips. He presses down, fucking himself onto Harry’s deflated knot, then pulls up again, then presses down again in a way not dissimilar to how his Alpha had fucked him some days earlier. He rolls his hips, too - grinding down when he’s knot deep and rapturously watching the way Harry’s eyes scrunch up with pleasure.
The older boy’s hands tighten on his hips. “Tom,” Harry groans softly, and the sound of his name startles Tom into pulling his thumb out of Harry’s mouth. His fingers twitch tighter on Harry’s throat - and the Alpha’s hips flex upward again in response. Harry’s panting fast and shallow, occasionally broken up by groans. “Omega,” he manages. “Fuck, I’m gonna knot. Turn over-”
Tom doesn’t need to be told twice. He pulls up off Harry’s cock, taking a small moment to admire the way his slick and Harry’s cum stick to both of their bodies before getting on his hands and knees and lowering his chest to the sheets with his knees pushed wide. He feels some fluid run down the side of his cock, but Harry’s on him and mounting him before he can begin to feel too empty.
His knot’s already swelling, tugging at Tom’s cunt with every harsh, jabbing thrust, and Tom groans softly into the mattress, deepening the arch of his back invitingly.
“Knot me,” he sighs. “I want it, Alpha.”
“Good boy,” Harry growls. “I’ll give it to you, lovely thing.”
It doesn’t take much longer until Harry can’t withdraw anymore, and he presses as close as he can manage, blanketing Tom’s body with his own and twisting their hands together as his knot expands just that little more until Tom orgasms with a keen and trembling legs. Harry’s breath hitches as he comes, too, filling Tom with warmth. Teeth dig into his mating gland moments later, and Tom’s vision sparks white for a moment.
He’s panting when he comes back down, absolutely soaked in sweat, and Harry is a heavy, sleeping weight on top of him, despite the fact that his cock is still spurting cum into Tom’s body in the aftermath of Tom’s double orgasm. Tom shifts a little to get comfortable, ignoring the filth underneath his stomach, and cards the hand that isn’t intertwined with Harry’s into his Alpha’s hair.
Tom has a feeling he’ll have to deal with the consequences of his actions soon. His heat is abating, slowly but surely, and the fact that Harry is sleeping as much as he does means he’s pretty much in post-rut. Sighing softly, Tom clears the dampness below his face with a touch of magic and squeezes his Alpha’s hand before closing his eyes and letting himself fall asleep.
Notes:
'equal length to the last one', i said. laughing. sweating. crying.
(crying)
leave me compliments in the below! thanks for reading ^V^
Chapter Text
“Oh, Christ,” Someone whispers in a panic behind Tom, and he makes a sleepy noise of discontent when the warm body pressed to his back tries to move away. The sound turns into a whine when his Alpha pulls his cock free of Tom’s body, the action followed immediately by cum trailing onto Tom’s sensitive thighs. He knows it’s cum - he can smell it. From the sounds of it, Harry can too. “ Shit . Shit-shit-shit.”
Tom turns his head to face the older boy, blinking at him with a frown. “Alpha?” He murmurs, rolling over slightly so his shoulder comes into contact with Harry’s chest, relaxing again at the warmth there. “Don’t go.”
“I bit you,” Harry says, horror in his voice, one hand coming up to cup Tom’s shoulder. “I knotted you. Oh gods.”
Tom hums, letting the lingering heat guide his actions as he rolls onto his back a little more, pulling one knee up and pushing it out to show off his bruised and well-used cunt, no doubt shiny and soaked with cum. The movement makes him leak some more, the liquid trailing down his arse. “Gonna give you pups, Alpha,” he purrs, stroking his slightly distended abdomen lazily.
From the corner of his eye he can see Harry’s eyes darken, dilating at the sight of Tom so willing to present himself - but it doesn’t do anything to dissuade the Alpha’s panic, unfortunately. Harry turns his head away, swallowing and squeezing his eyes shut.
“I’ve got to bring you to the infirmary,” he says, pulling the hand on Tom’s shoulder away to raise it to his forehead. He looks dismayed, and the room - and Tom’s nest - is beginning to smell of stress, which is unfortunate.
Tom doesn’t really want to go anywhere. He wants to stay in his nest, filled by his Alpha and fed whenever he needs until he starts visibly swelling with pregnancy. It’s unlikely Harry will let him do that, though, so he settles for the next best thing: being held. It’s a little humiliating to admit he wants to be cuddled, but he vaguely remembers learning in his first or second year about Omegas craving intimacy in pre-heat, but particularly in post-heat. It’ll assist with getting his fucked-out smell back on Harry, too.
Putting on his best teary eyes - which isn’t hard, considering his Alpha is thinking of taking him out of his nest and exposing him to strangers while his heat lingers - Tom makes a soft noise, turning to face Harry fully. He closes his legs, mostly to try and keep Harry’s cum where it needs to be, inside him, but also because he recognises his Alpha won’t be swayed by the sight and may even get more upset.
“Please don’t go,” he says softly, eyes searching Harry’s face. “Did I do something wrong?” Tom bites his lip, brows set into a worried frown. “Do you not want me?”
“That’s not it,” Harry rushes to reassure him, and Tom suppresses his smile even as his body relaxes despite himself. “It’s just… This is really bad, Tom. I shouldn’t have…”
Tom lets out a soft, disgruntled noise and tucks himself closer, slotting his body against Harry’s. It fits perfectly - he’s just about a head shorter than the Alpha, so he tucks his head under the older boy’s chin, tangling their legs together. The best thing would be having Harry back inside him, of course, but Tom has a feeling that’s not going to happen.
“I should clean you up,” Harry says, his voice vibrating nicely against Tom’s cheek. Tom hums, rubbing his face unsubtly against the skin of Harry’s throat to leave his scent there and relaxes. “You need to go to Madam Pomfrey. She - she’ll know what to do.”
“I’m still in heat,” Tom mumbles, a little crossly when it’s clear Harry won’t take the damn hint. “I’m not leaving you.” It’s not even a lie: his heat may be almost over, but that’s exactly it. Almost.
This works a little better. Harry’s fingers tighten on Tom’s shoulder, drawing him unconsciously closer, the Alpha’s scent sharpening at the implication.
“ You won’t leave me ,” Harry says, voice low and commanding. Then he clears up a little, snapping out of it, and he clears his throat. “I mean - I’ll be with you until we get to Madam Pomfrey. I won’t let anyone else touch you.”
Tom lets out a noise of discontent, baring his teeth to nip chidingly at Harry’s throat. “I don’t want to,” he says, and then he lifts himself up, blinking languidly down at the handsome form of his Alpha beneath him. His muscles look warm and soft, and Tom makes another soft noise before letting himself drop rather unceremoniously onto Harry’s chest, sprawling out so the older boy is effectively pinned.
Tom’s cock is hardening again, a last-ditch attempt at getting him bred just one more time, but he’s fairly certain he’ll be able to ride it out with Harry’s fingers up his cunt and a bit of friction against his cock. He moans softly at the thought, rolling his hips down against Harry’s as he mouths gently at Harry’s jugular.
“Help me, Alpha,” Tom murmurs, spreading his legs just a little so cum leaks down onto Harry’s thigh. “I’m making a mess.”
Harry inhales sharply, one of his hands coming up to grab Tom’s waist. The leg Tom is straddling rises a bit, too, pressing so very nicely against Tom’s blood-flushed cunt and the underside of his hard cock. Biting his lip slyly, Tom grabs his Alpha’s hand and pulls it gently to his belly instead, letting those dulled claws trail over his skin.
“Oh,” Harry breathes out, eyes wide and dark as he presses his fingers against the swell of Tom’s lower belly. Tom lets him for a moment, then pushes at his hand again, pressing it further down - down until his palm is cupping Tom’s sex, his fingers pressed against Tom’s leaking cunt.
It doesn’t take much to coax two of Harry’s fingers inside - a few rolls of Tom’s hips and a bit of guidance with his own hand, and then Tom’s fucking down against the fingers inside of him with quick, grinding rolls of his hips, seeking his own pleasure from the roughness of Harry’s palm against the space just under his cock and the drag of the older boy’s fingers against his insides. It’s a relief that he doesn’t feel the need for more than that, the brush just shy of his cervix enough to build him to orgasm - because he’s fairly sure that anything more than this would have resulted in rejection.
Groaning softly, Tom speeds up, holding Harry’s wrist firmly in place as his release creeps nearer. He gasps when he comes, rocking back desperately on Harry’s fingers to ride his orgasm out as his cock paints marks of cum on his Alpha’s abdomen.
“ Alpha ,” he moans, clenching his thighs hard over Harry’s hand to trap his fingers there even when he slows down and his orgasm concludes. “You feel so good in me,” Tom murmurs, stroking his belly again, showing off the curve of it to his mate with an arched back. “I feel so wet inside…”
Harry’s eyes are dilated so much it’s impossible to make out the green of his irises, but his mate still frowns and holds still despite his cock pressing insistently against Tom’s thigh, just under his arse.
“Tom,” he says, and Tom is instantly annoyed, because he knows where this is going. “I have to take you to Madam Pomfrey.”
Tom sighs, not bothering to hide the disdain on his face, and unclenches his thighs, releasing Harry’s cum and slick covered hand. “I don’t want to,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, which feels strangely tender despite having barely been touched the entire week. Hormones, Tom figures - he’s heard the beta girls complain about it.
“ Tom ,” Harry says, voice deeper and sharper, and Tom stiffens when he recognises the edge of a command slipping in there. He meets Harry’s eyes, frowning in affront. Is his mate really going to command Tom to leave his nest and go somewhere unfamiliar so shortly after his heat?
The short answer is yes, Tom realises with gritted teeth as he stands in the entrance to the hospital wing, bundled reluctantly in Harry’s robes. Comically broad on his frame as they are, they at least smell like the older boy, which provides some relief. The Alpha himself is standing at Tom’s back, keeping a steady hand on Tom’s shoulder.
Madam Pomfrey stares at Tom’s trembling figure with wide eyes. “Mr Riddle,” she breathes, and rushes over to him. “You!” she snaps at Harry, who shrinks back, letting go of Tom. “Get away from him, right now!”
“ No ,” Tom says, voice steadier and weightier than he feels. “He’s not going anywhere.” He feels cold, at once, without Harry’s hands on him, his scent no longer pressed against Tom’s back. He feels vulnerable, exposed, without a protector - his Alpha - to guard him.
“Mr Riddle,” Madam Pomfrey says, frowning, “I can smell, you know. You are underage and are just out of heat, and that Mr Potter here smells far too much like yourself to have been involved in any innocent manner. Sit down in my office, Mr Riddle. Mr Potter won’t leave the wing until I’ve interrogated him, but I won’t allow him any closer either.”
Harry is already stepping away from Tom - the post-rut urge to care and soothe clearly not strong enough against his apparent regret. Or maybe he truly thinks this is the way to take care of Tom in the best possible manner, instead of just taking a nap in their nest. What an annoyance.
“Come,” Madame Pomfrey says, curling a hand over Tom’s back to guide him in the direction of her office. Tom resists for a moment before his feet begin moving, shuffling slowly and reluctantly away from his Alpha. “I’m sure this must have been very stressful, dear, but I’ll try to clean you up the best I can. I’m sorry this happened to you, Mr Riddle. If we could have found you earlier… I only hope we could have prevented this.” She smiles at him, full of misplaced sympathy. “I’ll give you a potion to prevent pregnancy.”
Tom doesn’t miss the flinch Harry gives when she says it - and he blinks for a moment, unable to process what she said, before sharp, hot panic strikes through him like a lightning bolt.
“ No !” he cries out, wrenching out of her grip and darting back, grabbing Harry so the older boy stands between himself and the woman. “Alpha,” he gasps out, shaking with adrenaline-struck terror. “Alpha, you can’t let her. Don’t let her do it.”
In some part he knows it’s post-heat. He’s read about it - Omegas becoming convinced they’re pregnant, even when on birth control, and experiencing high levels of stress when told or proven otherwise. And when someone tries to suggest pregnancy prevention or termination - well.
But this can’t be all that. The bone-deep, all-consuming terror at the thought of preventing the result of his and Harry’s mating, of erasing what Tom worked so hard for… It’s not even the mating itself, the claiming bite on his neck. Tom wants, honest to Merlin, beyond the fear of not being pregnant, to be pregnant. He wants to grow heavy with a pup or two, wants to have something physical to show for his and his Alpha’s bonding apart from bites which will be as good as invisible in a few months, leaving only a pattern of dull silver imprints behind. He wants a child - one with Harry’s ridiculous messy hair and his own nose.
“Al-pha,” he says, and he realises that he’s crying when he sobs mid-word, burying his wet face into the back of the older boy’s shirt. “Don’t let her take it from me.”
The air around them fills with Harry’s scent, sharp and a clear warning in the face of Tom’s distress.
“Mr Riddle,” Madame Pomfrey says a little helplessly, but she’s interrupted by a warning growl from Harry that leaves Tom boneless and warm, protected. It cuts off moments later, abruptly, but its effect is not diminished for it.
“I’m sorry, Madame,” Harry says, through gritted teeth, only the barest touch of apology in his tone. “It’s still very… recent. I don’t think I can let you near him.”
Tom lets out a low, relieved noise, leaning harder against Harry’s back and pressing his cheek against the older boy’s shirt, letting his tears soak into the fabric. “Alpha,” he says, winding his arms around Harry’s chest, taking comfort in the firmness of the toned muscles beneath his grip. “I want to go back.”
Harry stays silent for a minute, and Tom almost thinks he’s considering it.
“Tom,” his stupid mate says then, “You have to get checked by the nurse. I’ll make sure-” Harry’s voice lowers to a growl, “-that you won’t have to take anything you don’t want to take, and that you know exactly what’s being given to you, but I…” The older boy sighs, turning to face Tom and stopping just short of nosing into Tom’s hair. “I need to make sure you’re not hurt.”
He can almost appreciate the possessive, caring tone Harry speaks with if it weren’t for the context. Tom frowns up at the older boy, wiping indelicately at his face with his - Harry’s - sleeve. “I don’t want her to heal anything. These are your marks.”
“Please?” Harry murmurs, smoothing his hands over Tom’s shoulders, and Tom resists for a moment before gritting his teeth, turning furious eyes on the only other occupant of the room. If the woman tries anything, he’ll kill her.
Madame Pomfrey purses her lips worriedly and opens the door to her office, showing the same medical table she had first inspected him on shortly after he’d presented. Tom hesitates a moment longer, then lets go of Harry and casts him tense glances even as he slowly makes his way toward the small room.
The nurse casts a diagnostic spell once he’s sat on the medical table, and her eyes widen at the list. She drops it at once and reaches lightning-fast to Tom's neck, yanking Harry's robes down to his chest before Tom can slap her hands away.
"Oh dear gods," Madame Pomfrey chokes out, face as white as the paper sheet between Tom and the medical table. "Mr Riddle-"
"If you heal it," Tom warns in a hiss, "I will murder you."
"I-I can't just-" the woman stammers. "It'll get infected like this - it's still bleeding-"
Tom makes a noise of frustration, wandlessly conjuring a soft cloth and wetting it with an aguamenti before raising it to his neck. He wipes the blood away, gritting his teeth through the pain, rubbing at what has coagulated with the cloth to get it off. Madame Pomfrey watches him with barely concealed horror in her eyes. Her hands are half outstretched as if to stop him.
“ What ?” he snaps. “I’m cleaning it, aren’t I?” He wouldn’t dare vanish or scour away the blood and possibly erase Harry’s scent.
“I-I. You shouldn’t be so aggressive, it’ll reopen the wounds - lukewarm water-”
“You do it, then,” Tom sneers.
“Tom,” his mate says softly, and all the anger in Tom extinguishes as his eyes snap over to Harry. “Let her help you.” He’s standing just outside the doorway of the office, and Tom’s reminded of the night of his presenting. How large Harry is, how good he’d smelled, how wet Tom had gotten…
He doesn’t hide his disdain entirely, but he does make an effort to control his facial expression and lets the matron wash his neck with a gentle, floating stream of warm water. Tom watches with absent interest as the water swirling around his neck turns gradually more and more red. At some point Madame Pomfrey vanishes it and conjures fresh water, starting the process anew. It feels… fine. His hair gets washed of blood, too - he can feel the way the water clings to the hair at his nape stubbornly even when the rest disappears.
“Mr Riddle, I’ve never seen…” Madame Pomfrey trails off, swallowing. “I’ve never seen anything quite like this, I admit.”
“Well, get used to it,” Tom mumbles inaudibly under his breath, very aware of how his mate is still watching him worriedly from a distance. It’s grating, how far away he’s standing. Tom bites his lip, fixing his eyes determinedly elsewhere. He hates how affected he is by the clear rejection his mate is showing right now. He knows Harry wants him, wants to fuck him, wants to give him pups. Rut doesn’t lie. But the fact that he lets his stupid morals get in the way still stings.
His neck gets wrapped in self-cleaning gauze and covered in bandages before he gets coerced into a shower stall and told to clean himself off. Madame Pomfrey casts a waterproof spell on his neck for good measure, then leaves him to his own. Harry she takes with her; presumably to interrogate him as she had said.
Tom stands there in the shower, not turning the water on. He smells like Harry - cum runs down his legs in small trails, his body still instinctively holding what it can inside. Washing it off would be like admitting defeat - and Tom will never admit defeat. He breathes in, breathes out - steeling himself for it. His mate isn’t there to reapply his scent once Tom’s washed it off, but that’s alright.
The water is already warm when he touches the pad to turn it on, running like a blemish over Tom’s body. It scalds just a little over his bruises, scrapes and the pinprick wounds on his hips and waist from where Harry’s claws had dug in too deep. He washes methodically, running his hands over his skin in slow, gentle circles. He doesn’t use soap. He won’t use soap.
He dries off carefully, patting his skin instead of rubbing and barely touching his genitalia at all. Tom doesn’t even bother drying his hair before he’s rushing back to bundle himself in Harry’s robes again, pressing the collar to his nose and inhaling deeply. It’s a mockery of the real thing, but it’s better than nothing. If all goes well, the Alpha should give up on this farce of morality soon enough and act like a true mate should. He just has to hold out for a little while.
When he comes out of the showers, it is to the sight of Harry sat at the end of a hospital bed, his head in his hands. He looks up, eyes red and a worried frown etched into his face. Madame Pomfrey is standing next to him, mouth pressed into a stern line. They’ll be separated for now, she explains. Something about investigation, misconduct. Tom’s head is spinning, his stomach dropping low. His Alpha isn’t looking at him anymore, instead staring at his folded hands between his knees. Tom’s blood still stains his fingertips. Tom feels manic.
He takes a deep breath and casts the scent-masking spell on Harry’s robes with a twitch of his fingers, praying Madame Pomfrey believes Tom’s mate had purged it of his scent before, and whatever had lingered had just been residue from their mating. He just has to endure - just a little while.
His nest is not on his bed when he returns to his dorm room, and for a moment Tom can’t move from where he’s frozen in the doorway. With shaking hands he moves over to the wardrobe and opens his cabinets. Inside lie the blankets and pillows from his nest, all clean and folded, smelling of nothing. Tom stares at them blankly for several long, silent minutes. Perhaps he’s in shock. He closes the cabinets again.
He manages fitful, broken periods of sleep when he finally gives in and rebuilds his nest, Harry’s stolen robe the centerpiece. Its scent is fading fast, and the cum that still leaks from Tom’s body on occasion isn’t enough to replace it, though Tom makes no effort to clean that up either. He spends most hours of the day in his nest, staring mindlessly at the seamless stitching at the lapels of his mate’s clothing, feeling unanchored. He dreams about floating away without something strong and heavy blanketed over him.
Madame Pomfrey gets all his things delivered to him somewhere along the course of the day and gifts him a strange-looking duvet that feels like it’s filled with sand. Tom leaves it where it is, unsure what to do with it, and crawls back into his nest.
The day of his first OWL, Tom wakes up feeling empty - his thighs wet and his nest soaked, the thick scent of Harry’s cum heavy in his nose. His hand shoots to his stomach on instinct; cold sweat breaks out over his back when he can’t feel the now-familiar swell of his slightly bloated belly under his probing fingers before he manages to calm himself, groping for his wand even as his breathing turns shallow with barely restrained anxiety. His heat is over, he tries to reason with himself. The release of cum from his uterus instead of keeping it all in is expected - both to clear out the dead and dying sperm cells, and to make space for a possible pregnancy.
Tom counts in his head how many days it’s been since his heat started, biting his lip nervously as he makes the shaky motions for a zygote detection spell. It’s a spell mostly used on animals by breeders, since it doesn’t tell the caster anything about the viability of the pregnancy - just if there’s a fertilised egg cell present. Implantation is a lengthy process, so Tom feels safer casting this than getting an automatic negative result with the other spell.
He watches with bated breath as the magic settles low over his abdomen, sinking into his skin slowly. It feels like forever before he feels it curl inside him harmlessly, and seconds later a tiny white pinprick appears some ways under his belly button. A laugh, short and exhilarated, escapes Tom’s throat before he can control himself. There it is; the proof that Harry is his. The key to locking his Alpha down.
Notes:
in the matron's defense, that was a weighted blanket she gave him to help prevent nightmares. i'd be jealous if i didn't have two already.
meet me in the next chapter for... less angst? talks of abortion? tom getting Very Angry? all of the above? hopefully more porn because the situation gets resolved quickly?
leave me a compliment in the below if you enjoyed reading :3
Chapter 5
Notes:
me to myself: what if i made this fic 7 chapters long wouldnt that be funny and poetic
me rounding off this chapter: yeah that's not gonna happen lol. more like 13i've got a feeling this chapter resolves the conflict strangely quickly, but at the same time my desire to prolong said conflict is 0 so if it does feel rushed, that's on purpose now. they've completed the misunderstanding and it is now an understanding :P
-squints at screen- did i put pregnancy kink in the tags yet? i think that applies here.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Dear Mr Riddle,
We have been reliably informed that you have engaged in mating relations with our son. We’re sure this is an unexpected turn of events, as you are a minor and our son had made no mention to us of courting anyone in his frequent letters. In light of these events we would like to extend an offer to put this matter behind us, as to keep both of our family names untouched by possibly unpleasant rumours or scandals. We humbly ask that you send us your request so we can fulfil it within reason, and in return we request that you keep details about this entire matter private and only inform those who strictly need to know. If you have any questions, please contact us by owl.
Regards,
Lady Lily and Lord James Potter
Tom barely manages not to sneer down at the parchment. He’s thankful he’s not in the Great Hall, that his mate’s parents at least had some thought to keep the entire affair private and sent an owl that could reach him in relative privacy, but-
Well, he’s almost offended.
His OWLs are almost concluded by now: just Transfiguration and History of Magic left, and despite the hiccup in his schedule of revision with his presentation, heat, the fiasco in the hospital wing, and the subsequent few days of unscheduled downtime , the discovery of the small, growing zygote in his body had Tom energised enough to make up for most of it. His thorough preparation earlier on in the year had also helped, and he thinks he’ll perhaps drop to an E on his worst subjects. All in all the tradeoff isn’t terrible.
This letter, however, complicates things.
It’s hard to pin Harry down. The older boy seems to be avoiding him, though he’s doing a shoddy job of hiding it. Tom barely sees him around the castle anymore - and when he does, the Alpha is quick to excuse himself from whatever’s holding him in Tom’s proximity, citing ‘quidditch practice’ most times.
It’s fucking annoying, is what it is.
Eventually Tom manages to get Harry alone-ish, some two days after getting the letter. He’s sitting in the library, a relative distance away from others, and he’s absorbed enough by the paper lying in front of him that he doesn’t realise Tom’s there until Tom makes himself known.
“Your parents sent me a letter,” Tom murmurs in Harry’s ear as he walks past him in the library, slowing. “Stop avoiding me.”
Harry freezes and turns, lips pursed just slightly, frowning at Tom.
“Is that what they said to you?” he asks, and Tom almost lets his annoyance get the best of him before he pushes it back down. Harry’s being sincere, even if only partly, and his expression is worried. “That I should stop avoiding you?”
“No,” Tom says before Harry can add that he hadn’t been avoiding Tom, by the way , coming to a stop. He turns to face Harry and steps closer to Harry to maintain their privacy. “They’re offering to pay me off.”
Harry’s face goes a little pale, and then smooths itself into something so passive even Tom can barely read him. The older boy’s eyes give him away, though - they dart down, to Tom’s belly, just for a second. “What about-?”
“They didn’t say anything specific,” Tom says, pulling out the seat next to Harry and sitting down, dropping his bag on the floor next to him. “I’m inclined to believe they don’t know. They’re under the assumption it was rape, and likely think I gladly took whatever preventative or abortive measures were provided to me.” The mere mention of it spikes Tom’s anxiety. He grits his teeth lightly, wrangling his expression into careful neutrality.
“Tom,” Harry says, expression going pained, “it was -”
“I know damn well how I feel,” Tom says quietly, truly annoyed now, “and I don’t particularly feel like I’ve been raped . I’m restless and I can’t sleep well, yes, but that’s because I’m still in post-heat and you’re absolutely refusing to be near me. It’s frankly insulting.”
“Are you sure that isn’t just bonding hormones?” Harry asks, self-doubt and self-loathing clear as day on his face.
“ Watch it, ” Tom warns, glaring Harry straight in the eye. “I’ve had four people tell me any mental state is the result of ‘hormones’ since I presented, and that number has been four too many. If you fancy finding out how Malfoy broke three of his ribs tripping down the moving staircases, you’re more than welcome to keep going, Alpha .”
The older boy looks appropriately chastised, and Tom swallows, breathing deeply to calm himself.
“If you must know,” he says, trying to keep his voice level, “what I’m currently experiencing is heat drop .” He doesn’t bother attempting to keep the bite out of it. It’s not even a lie; heat drop, in Omegas, is a phenomenon attributed to lack of post-heat care, and is characterised by insufficient and restless sleep, mood swings or drops, anxiety, and nightmares - all of which Tom has.
For an Alpha to let their Omega go into heat drop is shameful, and Harry knows it.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I wish…”
That none of this had happened . It isn’t hard to fill in the blanks. Tom scoffs, turning away and grabbing his bag again.
“No you don’t,” he says, casting one last glare back at his stupid mate before getting up and leaving the library.
It’s agonising, watching Harry be surrounded by friends and housemates alike, so far away from Tom. Across the Great Hall at breakfast and dinner he laughs along with jokes from a pack of redheads, and gets chastised by the bushy-haired beta he always seems to stick around. He gets cajoled by fellows from his quidditch club in the hall, and they ruffle his hair, leaving their scents all over his body in the process. Harry is popular. It had seemed like a bonus, before, but now it makes Tom want to curl up and cry at the thought of his scent being erased from his mate’s body. Of being forgotten.
He casts the zygote detection spell nightly, clinging desperately to the hope it presents. He takes comfort in the knowledge that Harry is tense even when he’s surrounded by those who adore him, his shoulders never seeming to relax. The way he glances back at Tom often, too, though he shies away when their eyes meet.
Still; waiting is torturous.
Eventually Tom can’t bear it anymore. He can’t sleep - he’s lying in his nest every night, craving a scent that isn’t there, and his stomach twinges with cramps. Stress, Madam Pomfrey tells him when he drops by. It’s too early for pregnancy cramps, but it could also be his uterus adjusting to no longer being filled to the brim. Tom doesn’t have to worry about the small life growing inside of him - yet.
He’s got a feeling that won’t last for much longer if Harry keeps fucking avoiding him, though, and the thought fills him with rage, turning his scent sour-bitter with loathing. He corners Harry in an abandoned hallway, crowding him against the wall.
“Tom,” Harry says, looking down at him worriedly, “I can’t be near you. It’s not good for you.”
Tom feels manic. He grabs Harry’s jaw, digging his fingers in hard enough the older boy winces, and bares his teeth so far his gums are visible.
“You want me,” he snarls. “How dare you deny it!”
“You’re too young!” Harry bursts out. “I can’t ruin you like this!”
“I am carrying your child,” Tom hisses, heat rising to his face as tears cloud his vision. He’s getting emotional. It’s humiliating. He tears his stupid high collar open, revealing the fresh scars littering his neck. “I bear your marks. If there was any time for me to not be ruined , it was before all this!”
Harry stops short, visibly anguished. “Tom,” he says, lowering his forehead to Tom’s and holding the sides of his face gently in return. Tom closes his eyes on reflex, breathing his mate’s scent in deeply. He feels like a starved man. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that. Even with all the marks of mating in the world you could never be ruined. This child - this life does not diminish the value of yours at all.”
“Then why-” Tom starts, hating the way his voice quivers. He tries again. “Why can’t you look at me?”
“Because I took that choice away from you,” Harry whispers, brushing wetness from Tom’s cheek. “You didn’t choose me.”
Tom stills, all frustration leaving him at once. His eyes open, and the path before him is filled with clarity.
“What if I did?” He says, raising his gaze to Harry’s.
The Alpha looks at him, uncomprehending, and Tom tilts his head, slipping his mouth with barely a touch over Harry’s jaw and down to his throat. There’s no collar protecting Harry’s neck from an unwanted bite, because there are no mating glands there. But that’s okay - that’s better, even.
Tom bares his teeth and digs them hard into the side of Harry’s neck.
He clamps down - hard and violent, not stopping until he tastes blood, tangy and warm as it blooms into his mouth. The moan that rises from his throat at the taste is almost involuntary. He expects the fingers that curl into his hair and pull him back, tearing him away from the bite he has made, and his eyes go lidded, blood staining his lips and teeth.
A moment of silence falls over them as Harry stares at him, entranced. Then he surges forward to cover Tom’s mouth with his own, desperation and want so very visible in every move he makes as he mouths against Tom’s lips, tasting his own blood. He grasps Tom close, almost causing them to stumble in his haste, and Tom whines as they move backwards slowly until it’s Tom pinned against the wall this time, Harry sheltering him with his form as they kiss, and kiss, and kiss.
It tastes like copper. It tastes like victory and glory, and Tom cannot imagine a better way to conclude this period of near agony the past week has formed. He sighs into Harry’s mouth, breath hitching when Harry desperately unbuckles his own trousers and grasps his thick cock in hand, pulling Tom’s shirt up to bare his stomach. His gut tightens with anticipation, and he breaks the kiss for just a moment to look down, breathless when he realises what his Alpha intends to do.
Harry’s hand moves fast over his cock, hurried more than anything, and precum slicks his hand as he jerks himself off. It doesn’t take long, and Tom feels slick pool in his trousers as Harry’s knot begins to swell, his cock twitching with impending release, and then thick stripes of cum shoot out onto Tom’s stomach, clinging to his skin. The Alpha groans and tightens his hand over his knot to milk himself onto Tom’s belly, burying his nose against the scars on Tom’s neck, brushing his lips gently over them.
Tom can’t help the breathless laugh that escapes him, even as pent-up as he feels. Harry’s cum drips down to his waistband, slow and warm.
“We’re in public,” he says, closing his eyes despite the grin that threatens to split his face. “I never took you for an exhibitionist.”
“I don’t care if someone sees what they can’t have,” Harry murmurs into his throat. The older boy breathes deep and greedy against his jugular, tilting Tom’s head up gently with a nudge of his nose. “I’ll kill them if they try to touch you, though.”
Tom hums, savouring the lingering taste of blood in his mouth. He wants to get fucked - to cover himself in Harry’s scent and Harry in his, whether cum or blood. He lowers his head to look Harry straight in the eye. “Steal my nest and hide me away, Alpha.”
He doesn’t have to say it twice.
Harry takes Tom in the Slytherin dorms, pressing his chest down into the bed and spreading his cunt with his thumbs before feeding his cock ever so slowly into Tom’s willing body, drawing it out. Tom whines impatiently and pushes his hips back, twisting his hands into the sheets. “Come on,” he whines. “You made me wait a week , Alpha.” He’ll get his revenge for that, one day.
“I’m sorry,” Harry breathes once he’s bottomed out, knot deep and everything, leaning over Tom’s body to press a kiss to his scarred nape. “I was so sure I had hurt you.”
“Well, you did,” Tom manages, clenching down on instinct, panting when Harry’s cockhead presses up against his cervix, where it’s meant to be. “Oh, fuck me already-”
His Alpha listens well, and he draws back slowly, drawing out the maddening drag of his deflated knot against the entrance of Tom’s cunt, and then snapping back in, just the way Tom likes it. Not particularly harsh or quick, but staying nice and deep, where he belongs, just nudging at Tom’s cervix on every thrust in.
Tom doesn’t bother stifling his gasps and breathed moans. Why would he? He wants his Alpha to know he likes it, to convey that he wants what the older boy is giving. He loudens encouragingly when he feels Harry’s knot begin to swell, pushing back, longing to feel wet and full again. It doesn’t take long - Harry’s careful with him, rocking knot-deep in Tom’s body well before he can no longer pull out.
As a result the tipping point of Tom’s knot orgasm creeps up on him slowly, almost, washing over him in waves. He tightens up, moaning and squeezing his eyes shut, biting at the sheets under his mouth. Sparks flicker across the inside of his eyelids.
“Alpha,” he breathes out, breath hitching when he feels Harry come inside of him, the Alpha draping over his body protectively.
“Tom,” Harry pants against his nape, and for a moment Tom’s sure he’s going to bite down. Harry doesn’t, just breathing hard as his cock spurts into Tom’s body. It’s strange; there’s nowhere near as much cum as there had been during his heat and Harry’s rut - though he may be misremembering - and there’s no ache, deep inside, demanding he gets filled as much as humanly possible. Still it’s… nice . To get filled like this, and taken care of like this. Harry hums, rumbling against Tom’s back, and while it’s not exactly a purr, it works to relax Tom all the same. Carefully he gets rearranged to lie on his side, Harry behind him and still knotted into him, and they settle down to wait out the knotting.
“You said…” Harry begins, voice low and careful, one hand coming around to Tom’s bare stomach. “You said you’re carrying my child.” He strokes the skin under Tom’s navel gently before resting his hand there. “Are you sure?”
Tom is annoyed for a split second, because it sounds almost like those idiots who get their lays pregnant and then refuse to believe it’s theirs. But he thinks about it instead of instantly snapping at Harry, and realises it’s a reasonable concern. Heat delusion is quite common for Omegas, and Tom had experienced it himself - the absolute, unwavering belief that he was going to get pregnant, that he is pregnant. The difference between most Omegas and Tom, however, is that he knows unconventional pregnancy detection spells - and had he’d shouldered through the terror to actually check.
“Yes,” he says. “I am.” He waits a beat, and then adds; “I checked.”
“Oh,” Harry breathes, and Tom doesn’t know how to interpret his tone - until the room fills with the scent of fresh Alphan arousal, stirring warmth deep in Tom’s belly. “That’s… that’s incredible, Tom.” The older boy’s fingers tighten over Tom’s skin, cupping his abdomen, right where the tiny clump of cells growing in him should be. “ You’re incredible.”
“My spell was a bit unconventional,” Tom can’t help but explain, a little giddy, turning his head a little towards Harry, though he can’t really see the Alpha. “It’s used for, um, animal breeding. Scientific study. So to get a proper result, you know, that my body’s responding correctly as well, someone with more knowledge will need to check.”
“We’ll go to Madam Pomfrey tomorrow,” Harry murmurs, pressing a kiss to the skin under Tom’s ear. “Where on Earth did you learn animal breeding spells?”
“Professional curiosity,” Tom says a little vaguely, omitting the fact that he’d illegally been trying to create a much-enlarged and theoretically infinite supply of potions ingredients via artificially creating twins or more from fertilised egg cells from whatever species he’d needed ingredients from. It hadn’t worked very well; mammalian animals responded fine, but oviparity had immediately messed up his concepts, and don’t even get him started on seed-bearing plants.
Tom shakes himself from his thoughts, turning a little more until he can meet Harry’s eyes.
“I can do the spell right now, if you want,” he offers.
Harry smiles at him, but shakes his head. “I couldn’t see it from here,” he says, reminding Tom of the fact that he’s being knotted as well as spooned. “We’ll go see tomorrow. I’m curious how they’re doing.” His hand strokes Tom’s belly again, careful and possessive. Harry lowers his voice. “We’re going to have a baby .” It’s soft enough that Tom thinks the older boy may not have intended for him to hear that.
He closes his eyes, resting his hand over Harry’s, and settles in for a brief, much-needed nap.
“Wake up, sweet omega,” a voice murmurs in his ear, and Tom scrunches his nose, gasping when something thick and warm withdraws from his cunt, leaving him empty. Warm liquid trickles onto his thigh, and he smells a soothing combination of slick and cum. “Come on, Tom, we need to head down to dinner. You need to eat for two now, after all.”
Tom smiles at that, cracking open one eye to gaze lazily at his mate, who’s stroking the curve of Tom’s hip down over his outer thigh. “In public?” he asks with slight distaste, not looking forward to that at all.
“We’ll get cleaned up first,” Harry says, petting Tom gently some more before pulling his hand away. “Do you still have my gift?”
Tom’s thoughts immediately shoot to his pregnancy, and he’s confused for a moment why he wouldn’t still have it, before he realises what Harry means. The scarf.
“It’s…” Tom pushes himself to a half-sitting position blearily, unashamed of his nakedness, especially considering that Harry is equally naked at the moment. “The elves must have done something with it. I’d made… a mess. Um. Of it.”
When Tom had been done wanking the soft wool had been covered in slick, spunk and saliva, and hadn’t been fit for looking at, let alone wearing it.
“I think they put it back into the closet where my nest got put, too. When they cleaned it.”
It still stings.
Harry hums and gets up, uncaring of the slick still sticking to his skin, and Tom watches the older boy open the closet where he’d found the remainders of his nest. He grasps the familiar red-and-gold wool right away, but seems to notice something else and sticks in front of the closet for a moment more, frowning.
“Tom?” he asks, and Tom makes a soft noise of acknowledgement. “This is… Did you not use the weighted blanket Madam Pomfrey gave you?”
Tom blinks. “The what?”
Harry tilts his head, looking at him. “It’s a way to help you feel better in private. I’ve heard it’s like being blanketed, just with less accidentally jabbing your elbow into someone’s ribs.” He smiles a little at his own joke, but then frowns again. “It’s something Omegas use after spending a heat with a heat aid or alone, to fill the post-heat need for comfort when there’s no partner to do it.”
“Oh.” Tom sits up fully, a strange knot in his stomach. “I didn’t know.” He hadn’t realised that thing his Alpha did where he laid on top of him and crushed Tom down into the bed with his entire weight was an instinctive response to Tom’s needs, either, instead just kind of assuming it was a part of Harry’s habits during sex that he didn’t mind. That probably explains why he kept feeling like he was going to float away without something to hold him down.
Harry smiles at him sympathetically. “That’s nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about,” he says, grabbing the blanket Tom recognises as having come from Madam Pomfrey alongside the scarf and closing the closet doors. “Here, I’ll show you how it works.”
Harry runs his wrists over the scarf and certain parts of the blanket, rubbing both along his jaw as well before he approaches Tom once more, laying the scarf aside for now.
“Come on, Omega,” he coaxes. “Lay back for me.”
Tom’s obeys easily, only barely remembering that they’ve just had sex before he can part his legs on instinct, too. Instead he tucks his knees together, staring curiously at Harry as his mate folds the blanket once along the shorter side, and then proceeds to drape the whole thing over Tom’s body.
The scent of his mate fills Tom’s nose, and the sudden weight on all the important parts of his body has him sure that if he closes his eyes he could convince himself that Harry is actually lying on top of him.
“Oh,” he says again, feeling a little dumb. “That’s really nice.” His eyes are already drooping, his voice roughened with the beginning vibrations of a purr.
Harry laughs, low and warm, and presses a small kiss to his nose. “Perhaps I should have kept the demonstration for after we’ve eaten,” he says, tone fond. “It feels a bit cruel to immediately pull you out of there.”
“No,” Tom says, but he’s barely audible over his purring. He makes a half-hearted move to get up, though he wants to stay here, blanketed and safe, and doesn’t quite manage to push the blanket off him. “Just let me… put it in my nest. And then we can go up.”
“Alright,” Harry says, and reaches over to pull the blanket down to Tom’s waist, allowing him to sit up easily. “Let’s get washed up, shall we?”
Harry fucks him against the shower wall while the hot water rains on them from the shower head with a hand pressed against Tom’s belly the entire time. He only just remembers to pull out enough so he doesn’t knot and make them miss dinner - though he has no qualms about pressing his inflated knot against the outside of Tom’s sensitive cunt, allowing him to feel the pulsing swell of it as Harry still comes as deep inside of Tom as he can.
Tom’s orgasm isn’t long after; a few tugs at his cock combined with the pressure of the knot not-quite-threatening at his cunt has him spurting against the tiles with a low moan, and he wipes the mess away with a wet hand, pressing his overheated cheek against the cool tiles.
“We should really eat,” Tom says, closing his eyes and not quite managing to stifle his wince as Harry withdraws from his body, a trail of fresh cum following.
“Yeah,” Harry agrees, spreading Tom’s ass with his hands to bare his cunt for better view as cum leaks down from it and over Tom’s softening cock. “You should try being less sexy. Maybe that’ll help.”
Tom laughs. “Did you somehow manage to start your rut twice in one month?” he asks, lightly swatting his Alpha’s hands away so he can stand up properly. “I’ll dehydrate at this rate.”
“I can’t help it,” Harry murmurs, pressing a kiss to Tom’s neck and stroking his belly. “Whenever I think about what’s growing inside you… I just get so hard.”
“Because you put it there, or because I’m pregnant at all?” Tom asks, grabbing a washcloth.
Harry groans, but he shakes his head. “Because it’s you,” he breathes. “Because you want it. I can smell it on you, how pleased and warm you get when you’re reminded of it. How badly you want to keep it. You can’t fake that. It drives me mad.”
“That’s right,” Tom says, turning to face his Alpha fully. “I want to have your pups, Alpha, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” He slaps the washcloth against Harry’s chest, smiling. “Now get clean before I starve.”
Notes:
Tumblr: https://itsevanffs.tumblr.com
Discord: https://discord.gg/k2zQnuV
if you enjoyed it please let me know, since that's the only sustenance i'll be getting from posting this, and feel free to join me next chapter for another very quickly resolved conflict, this time with a side of power couple. cheers!
Chapter 6
Notes:
this chapter was meant to forward the plot somewhat, but i got distracted by blowjobs and finger fucking (as you will see) and then it didn't. so have fun with another chapter of porn with a smidgen of plot. hopefully next time we'll get some plot with porn, fingers crossed.
i'm kind of hoping to get a chapter of either at the expense of the world or hold me down (fuck me up) out soon, so stay tuned for those, unless i get drastically distracted, which is always a threat. also the tags have been updated a little, have a peek at those if you want to be sure you won't be squicked etc. from here it's gonna get nastier and filthier and i honestly can't wait, but i know not everyone shares my interests.
this chapter is the one where tom really wants to suck cock btw. like it comes up every so many paragraphs
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Tom allows himself to be fed by hand down in the Great Hall, leaning back languidly against Harry’s chest as the older boy feeds him fruits and small parts of meat. He’s extremely aware of his previous minions staring at him with equal parts envy and disgust. He’s sure at least one of them intended to get him under control by mating him, and he knows that while he’s not stereotypically attractive in the way that Omegas are meant to be, he still has power . His name means something; his influence is tangible. He may not be petite, or have a pretty and small cock, or have the softness expected of someone of his sex, but he can beat any of those fools in a fight, and they know it.
Pity he doesn’t need their measly political weight anymore, then. A Light-oriented family isn’t ideal for the things he wants to accomplish, but the way Harry looks at him has Tom quite sure it won’t be very big issue. Not that Tom will try anything stupid or dangerous until his pregnancy has concluded. He wouldn’t dare.
Harry presses another piece of meat to Tom’s lips, the inner flesh red with blood, and Tom accepts it with grace, letting his tongue linger on Harry’s fingers as he does. He stares up at the Alpha, a slow, lazy smile curling at his lips. They may not be able to fuck here in front of everyone without getting into serious trouble, but Tom’s not going to stop himself from taking everything he can get.
Harry’s eyes are dilated again, lingering on Tom’s mouth hungrily. The smell of his arousal is thick in Tom’s nose - perhaps this close the scent masking charm doesn’t work. Or perhaps, Tom thinks, more amused at the thought as he spies a few of his housemates nearby turning away and covering their noses, the horny idiot hasn’t bothered to cast at all.
“Harry,” he says, looking his mate in the eyes, not caring to hide his mirth. “Don’t be rude. As much as I love your scent, you probably shouldn’t act like McLaggen.”
Harry blinks, then turns slightly red. “Right,” he says, and a moment later the scent turns stale before beginning to dissipate. “Apologies.” He doesn’t look very apologetic at all, despite his apparent embarrassment - perhaps he’d hoped Tom wouldn’t mind. Truthfully, Tom doesn’t in the slightest; but Harry is Quidditch Captain and has to lead by example.
“I don’t mind,” Tom murmurs, closing his eyes and shifting ever so slightly closer - the little he can. “But the professors might.”
Harry hums, and Tom can tell that the opinions of anyone but them two couldn’t care the older boy less right now. “Eat more,” his mate instructs softly instead, his hand sneaking down to rub at Tom’s side. It’s subtle, and Tom appreciates the older boy not immediately announcing his pregnancy to the entire world. Besides, he still has to do the check at the hospital wing tomorrow.
“I want some bread,” Tom says. “Just a slice or two.”
His Alpha hand feeds him small pieces of soft brown bread, and Tom has never been more content in his life.
They head back to Tom’s room when Tom can’t stifle his restless, uncomfortable squirming anymore, unused to the multitude of eyes on him - on them - at all times after the several weeks of near complete isolation. That, and he’d like to cuddle. Maybe fuck. He’s got half an urge to try and swallow Harry’s cock down until either he chokes or the older boy knots, but that’s probably not a good idea right now.
“I have to get up early tomorrow,” Harry murmurs as they pile into the remains of Tom’s nest after undressing. He’s already settling half on top of Tom, who is lying face-down with his cheek smooshed against an article of his mate’s clothing, their hands intertwined.
“ Hmm ,” Tom replies articulately, sure that will be more than enough to convey his displeasure. He tries to recall what could possibly be so important that Harry has to wake before he usually would, which isn’t late by any means. Then he remembers; Quidditch. He cracks his already drooping eyes open, peering at his mate. “Gryffindor against Slytherin, right?”
“Indeed,” Harry hums. He tilts his head, looking a little puppy-like, but in a way that’s extremely Alphan. Aroused, maybe? Tom can’t quite tell - his Alpha is annoyingly good at masking his inner feelings when he wants to be. “Want to come watch? I’ll win the Snitch for you.”
Tom can’t help smiling at that, and the movement pulls at his cheeks as his fondness just has him smiling wider and wider. He gazes at the older boy, lowering his lashes. “I’m sure we can celebrate properly afterward.”
“Absolutely,” Harry says, eyes dilating. “There’s a party, as there always is, but I wasn’t planning to attend either way.”
Tom considers changing his mind; parties are good for connections, and connections mean power and weight to pull. But, well. He’s got a highly active libido now, and his thoughts are returning to sucking Harry’s cock in a hidden alcove somewhere - perhaps even under the stands, who’d think to look - and he doesn’t really want to deprive himself of that.
“When should we go to Madam Pomfrey?” Tom asks instead, wanting to know before he falls asleep mid-conversation.
“After I come back from training, in the morning,” Harry says. “You can keep sleeping, and I’ll just wake you up then.”
A nod is all Tom can manage before he goes entirely lax in Harry’s arms and falls into a deep, restful sleep.
His eyes open to a light pressure against his cunt and cock, the scent of his mate’s arousal heavy in his nose.
“Alpha,” Tom mumbles, tilting his hips for better access, and he’s rewarded by Harry’s fingers slipping under the damp fabric over his sex and tracing his labia, teasing at his entrance. The older boy’s palm is a firm pressure against Tom’s half-hard cock for him to rut against should he want to. “What brought this on?”
“I put the weighted blanket over you when I left so you’d sleep on,” Harry says, voice low. “When I got back you’d managed to push the lower part between your legs and were rubbing yourself against it. Who am I to deny you pleasure, sweet thing?”
“Are you gonna fuck me?” Tom sighs, grinding his hips forward a little to push his hardening cock against his mate’s palm.
Harry kisses his ear. “Not right now. I’ll make sure you feel good, though.” He curls his fingers, working the tips into Tom’s cunt carefully, and prods lightly at his insides until Tom jerks upon the older boy brushing his knot gland. His hands shoot down and cover Harry’s, but not to push it away exactly, nor to pull it closer - simply to keep it where it is. The area’s sensitive, and Tom’s not sure if he can handle a repeat of during his heat right now.
His Alpha soothes him by stroking his hair and pets feather-light over the gland. It feels nicer than the accidental poke from earlier, and Tom closes his eyes, relaxing his grip on his mate’s wrist and beginning to move his hips again, his cock filling out fast. Harry keeps petting him, sometimes throwing in a stroke with harder pressure that leaves Tom’s thighs shaking and makes his breath hitch - on and on until Tom’s trembling all over, on the verge of release.
“Close?” Harry asks, his own cock pressing thick and hard against the small of Tom’s back, and Tom nods hurriedly, eyes squeezed shut. Just a few more gentle presses, he’s sure will do the trick -
His back arches like a bow and his eyes go wide as Harry almost digs his fingers into that spot, a strangled noise forcing its way from his throat as he comes all over himself and Harry’s hand, messy spurts of cum spraying as far as his chest and slick soaking the sheets under them. And then, almost immediately, the pressure’s gone again, reduced to that gentle petting once more, coaxing Tom through the aftershocks of his orgasm. It feels like a fever dream - like Tom came from nothing at all.
“Shit,” he manages when he can catch his breath again, his hand grasping at Harry’s weakly again to get his Alpha to pull away when the sensation finally gets too much.
“Bad or good?” Harry asks, cleaning his hand off wandlessly and stroking Tom’s bare shoulder.
“Um, good. I think. Give me a minute.”
The older boy hums, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. “I thought I’d build up to it this time.”
Tom laughs a little breathlessly. “The end was a bit sudden.”
“Sorry,” Harry says, not sounding apologetic at all. “I like watching you come like you can’t help it.”
“I literally can’t when you do that, you prick,” Tom says without heat, rolling over to face Harry fully. “You know that.” He eyes Harry’s cock, disappointed to see all traces of an erection gone. He still really, really wants to suck cock. “Did you come as well?”
Harry shakes his head. “Blood redirection charm. Good for minimising blood loss from arterial wounds, I’ve been told, since that’s why we learn it in Defense, but that’s not what I use it for.” The smile he gives is mischievous.
Tom huffs out a laugh and shuffles up the bed a little to plant a kiss on the older boy’s mouth. “You’ll have to carry me to the infirmary, I think,” he says. “I can’t move my legs very much right now.”
“Madam Pomfrey will have a heart attack if I do that,” Harry laughs. “I still remember when I showed up with you, in third year - I think she thought you’d broken your neck, or something along those lines.”
His heart stutters, and Tom sits up, leaning on his hands to look down at his mate. “Wait. You remember that?”
“Of course I do,” Harry says. “You were really small back then, you know. And it’s not every day I encounter someone being pushed around so badly they gain a head injury.” His easygoing smile fades into a frown for a moment. “I wish I could have done more about those idiots from the upper years. I’m sure me interfering back then wasn’t the end of it.”
It wasn’t - but Tom isn’t about to tell Harry that he’d gotten his revenge by convincing the younger siblings or cousins of those very same idiots to let him torture them for years on end in the name of the liberation of dark magic.
Tom shakes his head and tries his best to look a little less dumbstruck; he’s honestly never considered that Harry might remember that moment too, but in hindsight, his Alpha hadn’t been the one with a head injury. Chances are he remembers it more clearly than Tom, even. “They’re gone now, either way,” he says, poking his mate’s nose lightly. “Are you going to carry me or not? I’ll walk the last bit if you’re worried about the matron dropping dead at the sight of me.”
Harry give him a curious look. “What if anyone sees us? Doesn’t that worry you?”
Tom shrugs, recognising the honest question for what it is. “Why should it?” he asks - and that’s that.
Harry lowers him carefully to the ground a few corners away from the Hospital Wing’s main doors and keeps a steadying hand on Tom’s shoulder while he gets used to standing on his own two feet, which Tom can appreciate. He rubs absently at his chest as they walk, pleased to note the earlier soreness shortly after his heat has passed. Perhaps it had indeed just been a result of hormones; Tom wouldn’t be surprised.
“Good morning, Madam,” Harry says softly as they enter, Tom’s hand firmly clasped in his own. Harry’s gripping him so tight he can feel the dull edges of his claws dig into his skin, and the pressure is comforting in the wake of the overly sterile medical environment. “We’re here for Tom.”
Madam Pomfrey’s lips purse tight, and she analyses their clasped hands with sharp eyes for a moment before she nods.
“Any problems?” she asks Tom, waving her wand. The bed next to her readies itself for him, pillows fluffing up to provide a comfortable backrest, and she directs him to sit down.
“No problems,” Tom says, shaking his head, then swallows. He’ll die before he admits it, but he’s a little shy when he continues, shuffling back against the pillows a little more. “I… we wanted to check if I’m pregnant.”
Madam Pomfrey fixes him with another stern stare. It’s not a mean one - Tom can tell she’s genuinely concerned for him. “You do understand that there are risks associated with an underage pregnancy, don’t you?” she asks. “I’ll check, of course, but should you be pregnant and want to continue the pregnancy in full, you’ll have to take very good care of yourself, Mr Riddle.”
“I understand,” Tom replies, eyes finding those of his mate’s. Harry doesn’t seem concerned with Madam Pomfrey this time; just focused on him, as he should be. The Alpha offers a smile.
“If you could please pull up your shirt so there’s no chance the spell will become obstructed,” the matron instructs, conjuring gloves onto her hands. Tom does so, exposing his abdomen, which rises and falls gently with every breath. Madam Pomfrey readies her wand and casts a spell that feels a little like a feather tracing over his insides - and moments later, that very same dot of light Tom had clung on so tightly earlier this week appears, floating gently about an inch over his skin.
“Well,” Madam Pomfrey says, “I suppose congratulations are in order, if I’m right to assume this is the outcome you’ve been hoping for. You’re indeed pregnant, though it’s too soon to really guarantee anything.”
Her face is anything but jovial. Tom kind of understands - a case like his is dubious at best, and he’s young - there’s a lot that can go wrong. But that certainly won’t stop him.
She continues, dismissing the light. “I can check for any abnormalities, if you’d like, to perhaps avoid any nasty surprises later.”
Harry steps closer, squeezing his hand tight and staring down at Tom’s face with eyes brighter than the sun.
“Yes,” Tom breathes, staring at his mate with a deep sort of pride swelling in his chest. “I’d like that.”
About twenty minutes later they’re dismissed with an all clear on any problems that could cause miscarriage - Tom doesn’t even want to think about it - for the time being, and Tom can’t stop himself from smiling as they walk hand in hand down to the Quidditch pitch. They’re right on time: the match is scheduled to start in half an hour, and students are already making their way leisurely to the stands, so Tom rolls up onto his toes and plants a soft kiss square on Harry’s lips before the Alpha can make his way to the changing rooms.
“Don’t let them walk all over you,” he instructs the older boy with a smile that harbours promise. “Just grab the Snitch as quick as you can, and when you do, I’ll be waiting.”
He sits down in the Slytherin stand, not about to surround himself with Harry’s rowdy housemates, and hides his amused smile against the palm of his hand when Malfoy stops dead upon seeing him, going even paler than his natural pallor.
“R-Riddle!” the Beta manages. “I thought you despised Quidditch?”
“I do,” Tom says. He can do things he doesn’t like to get things he does like, however; a skill which Malfoy doesn’t seem to possess. Tom’s already thinking ahead to when his mate wins the game so he can give the older boy his reward, which is making the needless cacophany of the student body around them a lot more bearable. “I thought you were aiming for Seeker?” he asks casually.
“I… I was,” Malfoy says slowly, sitting down a respectable distance away. “They chose my cousin after tryouts, so I didn’t make the team.”
Tom huffs out a laugh, eyes on the field. “Not even the replacement spot?”
“They already had someone,” is the boy’s terse response. Tom can tell he’s getting flustered, so he should probably ease up a little.
“Unfortunate. I’m sure you would be a valuable contribution to the team,” he says diplomatically, running his fingers across the fresh scars peeking over the top of his collar. The two teams are marching across the field now, taking their places. In just over ten minutes the Snitch will be released. “There’s always next year, of course. Perhaps they’ll see reason. How go your extracurriculars?”
“They’re… fine,” Malfoy says slowly. “We haven’t really met up recently.”
Tom knows this - he’s been keeping track of the Knights’ movements even during the moments he could barely get out of bed, and it seems they’re all lost without him to take the lead. Serves them right, to think they could replace him at a whim.
“That’s quite a shame.” Tom keeps his eyes on his mate as the older boy mounts his broom, ascending calmly and beginning to circle the pitch lazily. “Perhaps we could arrange something before the year ends.”
Malfoy perks up out of the corner of his eye, and it’s almost hard not to smirk.
“Then again…” Tom says, drawing out the words as if they truly present him with a dilemma, “My Alpha keeps me quite busy.”
He stares at Malfoy for several long moments, all humour gone from his face, just watching as the boy’s cheeks get paler and paler. It’s satisfying, putting fear into people just by staring them down, but Tom has better things to do. He turns back to the game, just in time to catch his mate’s eye. Harry smiles at him, eyes full of promise.
Thirteen minutes later the game has concluded with a Gryffindor victory, the Snitch solidly in Harry’s hands, and not long after Tom’s got his Alpha pinned against a pillar underneath the stands, shoving at his Quidditch robes to get his cock free as he presses their mouths together desperately.
Harry looks shocked when Tom sinks to his knees in front of him and grasps his Alpha’s thick cock in hand, stroking it to full hardness.
“Tom,” he breathes. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve wanted to do this for days now,” Tom tells him in no uncertain terms, a little breathless, and leans forward to take the head of the older boy’s cock in his mouth.
It feels even better than Tom imagined - the smell of his mate is overpowering, narrowing all his senses down to the taste of Harry’s sweat and skin and and the weight of the cock in his mouth. He swallows quickly around the head, making a soft noise of pleasure before beginning to move forward a little, taking just that bit more, a little deeper. Perhaps he’s over-eager, but Tom honestly doesn’t care. He just wants to be here, right now, Harry’s hands in his hair and as much of his cock in Tom’s mouth as he can manage.
Harry’s head is tilted back when Tom glances up to look, flushed down to his neck and jaw tense with restraint, and Tom flattens his tongue against the bottom of his mouth, loosening his throat as much as he can manage before tucking a stray lock behind his ear and slowly moving further down on Harry’s cock, until the slight swell of Harry’s deflated knot is pressing against his lips and Tom can barely breathe around the girth and length buried in his mouth.
Tom’s eyes water when the head of his mate’s cock brushes the back of his mouth, threatening at his throat, but he makes a protesting noise when the older boy attempts to pull back, and Harry’s smart enough not to go against his wishes. When Tom’s certain Harry’s not going to move he pulls back just a little, sucking gently and meeting the Alpha’s eyes. He’s not quite sure what to do with his tongue, so he just keeps it where it is, raising a hand to wrap it around his mate’s knot and squeeze lightly.
That proves to be a bit of trouble - Harry gasps out, hips twitching forward, and Tom pulls away on instinct, trying his best not to gag at the pressure of a cockhead at his throat. Tom grimaces, annoyed at himself, and moves to swallow Harry’s cock again - but the Alpha stops him, to Tom’s great annoyance.
“Wait-” Harry manages, keeping his voice low, though they definitely won’t be heard over the celebrations still happening on the pitch. “You probably shouldn’t go so deep, or with your hand, or I’ll try to knot your mouth-”
“I won’t die, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Tom interrupts roughly, squeezing Harry’s knot again and sticking out his tongue so he can lean down and press the older boy’s cock up against it, just rubbing the taste of precum against it. “I don’t know what else would concern you. We’re wizards, aren’t we?” He swallows the precum on his tongue, smirking up at his Alpha, and Harry’s eyes are glued to him, blown so wide Tom can’t see the green in them anymore. It’s a shame the Alpha is no longer in rut; his blown-wide pupils paired with eyes that practically glowed green were as arousing as anything.
Absently Tom toys with the idea of spiking his mate’s drink with a rut stimulant - but that’s an idea best left for the summer, when they’ll be together all the time. Hopefully.
Pushing those thoughts away for now, Tom opens his mouth wide and goes down on his Alpha again, not stopping this time when he feels the press of Harry’s deflated knot at his lips and carefully working that into his mouth too, wrapping his lips neatly over the slightly thinner base. Harry gasps out a moan, head thrown back, and like a switch, the knot in Tom’s mouth begins filling out, pulsing against Tom’s tongue. Tom jerks slightly, not having anticipated quite how fast he’d actually get his mouth knotted, but before he can get worried about it, his mind goes curiously blank, jaw and throat relaxing on instinct.
“ Oh ,” he hears Harry say softly, and warm hands tangle into his hair as the knot in his mouth keeps growing. “Oh, gods, Tom, you’re so perfect.”
Tom moans softly, and he begins swallowing on instinct, not long before his mouth is flooded with the taste of his mate’s cum. He swallows and swallows and swallows, aware somewhere in the back of his mind that his trousers are becoming soaked with his own orgasm - a muted, slow thing, setting his nerves gently alight and filling the space around them with the thick scent of his slick.
He can feel Harry’s magic settle over the two of them as the older boy casts a few charms - a scent containing one so the people around them won’t notice, and a cushioning charm for Tom’s knees.
His mate laughs quietly, petting Tom’s hair in soft, repeating strokes as they settle in to wait out Harry’s orgasm. “I don’t think you thought this through entirely,” Harry rumbles, the sound of his voice underlined with a gentle purr that reverberates through Tom’s body extremely pleasantly. “I think they’ll miss us.”
Tom doesn’t care how long this knotting lasts, so long as he can sit here, being good and swallowing his Alpha’s cum for however long he likes. It takes several minutes for the occasional spurts of cum to slow down and then stop entirely, and Tom doesn’t stop swallowing until his stomach feels full and warm with it. He lifts his hands to Harry’s hips, stroking the warm skin there between where his shirt ends and his trousers begin, closing his eyes in bliss.
This is probably the most exposed they’ve been so far during sex, and yet Tom feels safer than ever, all his senses reduced down to his Alpha and nothing else. It should be disconcerting, how absolutely stupid the older boy can make him, but Tom honestly doesn’t care anymore. It’s not like Harry will get in his way in the long run - and if he does, Tom will just have to correct him with force. It’s not like he can’t.
They stay there for what Tom thinks might be ten, maybe twenty minutes, before Harry grabs his wand again and mutters something, and the knot in Tom’s mouth begins deflating fast enough that it jars Tom into clarity. He moans softly, half protest and half confusion, and whines when Harry pulls his now almost soft cock from Tom’s mouth.
“Sorry,” Harry murmurs, rubbing at Tom’s aching jaw carefully. “I don’t want you to get uncomfortable, though. Let’s get inside.”
Despite Tom’s disgruntlement, it’s a good call - when Harry helps him stand, he finds his knees weak and his feet almost numb, his slick and cum sticking his trousers uncomfortably to his skin. Harry takes care of that, too, with a cleaning charm that’s far more gentle than anything Tom could come up with right now. Tom even lets the older boy wipe his cheeks and mouth carefully with a conjured handkerchief, getting rid of the most incriminating signs that they’ve just had sex. He’s so focused on Tom’s wellbeing that he almost forgets to tuck his cock back into his trousers before they leave, and Tom can’t help but laugh at that, covering his mouth loosely as he grins like an idiot.
There’s no way the rest of their year don’t know what they’ve been doing, but Tom doesn’t care. He feels good, and from the way that his Alpha slings an arm around Tom’s shoulders, pressing Tom closer as they walk back to the castle, he’s got an inkling Harry feels about the same.
Notes:
objectively i'm very pleased that my attention span for fics has improved from 10k to 15k to 20k to 25k+, but like i'm seriously baffled that we're heading straight for 40k now and aren't anywhere near stopping. like jeebus. one would think i'd get bored by now, but nope, just frustrated when i can't quite write blowjobs the way i want to first try.
leave a compliment in the comments if you want ^^ it's what feeds my soul. thanks for reading!
Pages Navigation
Limonium on Chapter 1 Wed 15 Feb 2023 03:14PM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:30PM UTC
Comment Actions
chiocchi on Chapter 1 Wed 15 Feb 2023 03:15PM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:29PM UTC
Comment Actions
Laerche91 on Chapter 1 Wed 15 Feb 2023 04:13PM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:28PM UTC
Comment Actions
heiider12 on Chapter 1 Wed 15 Feb 2023 04:29PM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:27PM UTC
Comment Actions
moraneuclid on Chapter 1 Wed 15 Feb 2023 04:41PM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:26PM UTC
Comment Actions
MissyPie25 on Chapter 1 Wed 15 Feb 2023 04:47PM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:26PM UTC
Comment Actions
crowthing on Chapter 1 Wed 15 Feb 2023 04:49PM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:26PM UTC
Comment Actions
BEWDS on Chapter 1 Wed 15 Feb 2023 05:01PM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Wed 15 Feb 2023 06:33PM UTC
Comment Actions
KagariAsuha on Chapter 1 Wed 15 Feb 2023 05:39PM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:27PM UTC
Comment Actions
Alystra_Welbourne on Chapter 1 Wed 15 Feb 2023 06:35PM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:24PM UTC
Comment Actions
detrixx on Chapter 1 Wed 15 Feb 2023 09:27PM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:10PM UTC
Comment Actions
Murtherlove143 on Chapter 1 Wed 15 Feb 2023 10:06PM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:35PM UTC
Comment Actions
eleven_eaves on Chapter 1 Wed 15 Feb 2023 11:43PM UTC
Last Edited Thu 16 Feb 2023 01:32AM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:24PM UTC
Comment Actions
ShiFeng2 on Chapter 1 Thu 16 Feb 2023 09:42PM UTC
Comment Actions
Saralley on Chapter 1 Fri 17 Feb 2023 01:13AM UTC
Last Edited Fri 17 Feb 2023 01:14AM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:23PM UTC
Comment Actions
ToAStranger on Chapter 1 Fri 17 Feb 2023 02:00AM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:08PM UTC
Comment Actions
Tom_r on Chapter 1 Fri 17 Feb 2023 04:14AM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:22PM UTC
Comment Actions
savagedamsel on Chapter 1 Fri 17 Feb 2023 09:09PM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:13PM UTC
Comment Actions
funky_at_heart on Chapter 1 Sat 18 Feb 2023 02:11PM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:22PM UTC
Comment Actions
Maripas on Chapter 1 Mon 20 Feb 2023 06:02AM UTC
Comment Actions
itsevanffs on Chapter 1 Mon 27 Feb 2023 03:21PM UTC
Comment Actions
Pages Navigation