“Don’t be so cock sure of yourself,” he sneered as he looked upon the man. The taste of metal seeped into the crevices of his teeth. Lingering and enveloping his mouth, he wanted to rip his own tongue out.
The man in question just looked at him indifferently, as if his lips weren’t busted open and freely bleeding, painting it red. As if Harry himself hadn’t succeeded in almost biting his lips off.
Then he smiled, displaying rows of teeth filled with blood and it curled further in satisfaction knowing it was Tom’s blood. “You forget yourself Tom, you…” Harry made sure to be explicitly clear with the utter contempt and disgust he looked at the man with, that he is far beneath him.
Harry looked down his nose, derision lining the wrinkles of his nose and the lines of his mouth. “You are not just beneath me, you are nothing. Do remember to mind yourself.”
Harry waited, a predator prowling around its victim, waiting in anticipation. He didn’t have to wait as he saw just the slightest crack in Tom’s facade. The way the corner of his mouth twitched down, the faintest clench of his jaws. And wasn’t that a sight, his eyes lidded, the curves of his mouth softening into a smirk.
“You are a nobody playing pretend, you’re rather too old to be playing dress up, no?”
He feels high, all his senses are heightened and all he can smell is the tangy scent of blood, blood mixing with his saliva, threatening to consume him. Just like its owner, it's addicting. The air is heavy and charged, he feels the hair on the nape of his neck stand. He may be a predator but the man before him is no prey either.
He would like to be seen as one but Harry sees him, sees the beast that looks down on everyone, it does not hide nor stalk its prey. No, it thinks itself a God, far beyond the grasp of men, not to be sullied and polluted.
Untouchable.
But Harry does not believe in Gods, let alone the man in front of him. He believes in monsters, even those cut and crafted from the finest of marbles to resemble men.
He wants to see it.
He wants to see what will be left behind when that marble cracks. So he pushes more, this farce has gone on long enough and he grows tired of it. Because Harry, unlike the one before him, wears his markings upon his skin and does not hide them.
His heart thumps to the pelting rain outside, a sickening feeling of euphoria rushing through his veins. Hands itching to put the final nail in the coffin because he knows this man. Knows exactly what to say that will have the marble come crumbling to his feet and to look upon the wretched thing that has made home inside.
“What daddy didn’t spend enough time with you-”
The fireplace lit up, the flames looked to be miserable souls reaching for him, wishing to burn him for his insolence. A sharp shriek and the windows shattered, he could hear the enraged howl of the wind, the rain now pelted into the room with fervor. Harry’s eyes alighted, smiling with his teeth as he turned back to the owner
Oh what an exquisite sight it was to behold.
Harry felt almost giddy off his high.
There Tom stood, the same as before but it was his face. His smile widened, as he took in the flared nose, the tense clenched jaws, he was sure if Tom were to bite down any harder, it would end up being dislocated.
Most of all were his eyes, it was fury and wrath.
The lights flickered to the sway of its owner’s emotion. He could see Tom trying to reign himself in, to once again seal the cracks with plaster. That wouldn’t do.
Harry tilted his head, “ah, I apologize,” he was pleased to see how Tom’s shoulders tensed up. He looked like a snake readying itself to strike. It was sickening how much of a kick he was getting out of this, but it was such a welcoming sickness.
Harry’s grin widened, his eyes a bit crazed. “That would be your moth-”
He hadn’t even been able to finish when long fingers found its place around his neck, unyielding. He felt the press against the soft cartilage of his throat, the pads of fingers twitched at the sides of his neck.
When Tom spoke, his voice was a mere whisper, as if the man was doing everything he can to contain himself and not snap. “And you will do well to cease from pushing me any further. My mercy can only go so far.”
At that, he uttered a choked laugh, right in Tom’s face. Sharp and derisive. Tom took a sharp breath, fingers squeezing a bit harder against his artery. Even with the warning and as his intake of oxygen lessened, he rasped out, “what a merciful lord.”
Tom’s lips curled at the mockery, “you would dare.”
Harry let out another laugh, feral and manic.
“You are no God…” his smile grew sharper, “beastie.”
Tom’s eyes widened and his pupils were mere slits, his left hand came up, wand poised just a few centimeters from his face. Harry could feel the heat of the unsaid spell on his skin, burning and ready to mark him.
He met Tom’s eyes, tenacious to the very end. “What will you do Tom?” His hands came up to grip the hand around his neck, “will you maim me again.”
Tom pushed him back, the thud of his head against the stone walls resounded through the room and he winced at the sharp pain vibrating through his skull.
Tom leaned down searching his eyes, “would you like that Harry? For me to mark you again.”
He looked at the red that bled into Tom’s eyes, much like the red that is still fresh on his lips. Harry runs his tongue along his teeth, sucking on them, Tom’s blood lays heavy on his tongue. Mindlessly, his tongue peeks out, wondering if there were some on his lips as well.
Tom’s hands are no longer on his throat but languidly moves up to cup his jaw. Harry catches his eyes, it's no longer on his eyes but rather his mouth. He swipes his tongue against the bottom of his lips, catching some of the blood there, watching as Tom’s eyes follow the movement with a sort of morbid fascination.
Before he could place it back in, he felt the cold tip of the yew wand, keeping his tongue in place, on display for its owner. Tom rolled the wand between his fingers, coating the white of the yew with Harry’s saliva thick with his blood.
“Is this what you wanted Harry, for me to lose all my inhibition? To just be a mindless beast only driven by its lust. Because I can assure you,” Tom’s gaze came back up to meet his own, he leaned further down. Harry could feel his body heat heat, it envelopes all his senses, burning him.
“From the start, I have been nothing more than a monster led by the reins of desire.”
The wand was removed, his tongue twitched from being out in the air too long. Yet before he could ease it back in, Tom delved down, catching the appendage in between his rows of teeth. Belatedly, Harry noticed and felt just how sharp those canines were.
It didn’t take him long to learn first hand the sharpness of it as Tom bit down. Harry startled, jerking his head back in surprise, only causing the teeth to cut deeper into his sensitive muscle.
Tom opened his jaws, and his tongue slid out to the bottom of Harry’s tongue, and gave a lick following the length of it, edging along the curve of the muscle.
He winced feeling the heat against his sore wound, it stung and burned, making him dizzy. Tom’s tongue lazily swirled around his own, languid and relaxed.
He finally made a sound when the asshole had purposely pushed the tip of his tongue against the opening on his tongue. He glared, retracting his tongue back in and leaned into another's mouth, bottom row of teeth grazing against Tom’s bloody lip before biting down harshly.
Tom’s brows lifted and Harry felt the curve of his mouth against his own. The mixture of their blood was intoxicating. He wanted to drown in it. What a grotesque sight they would have made to any who would have the misfortune of walking in on this moment.
And what a misfortune for them that it would be the last thing they would ever witness. He knows that the beast before him is covetous, and that this was sacred as much as it was a desecration. He would not let anyone witness this, it was for his eyes and his alone.
Harry wondered then and there, as Tom sucked his upper lip, bruising and unyielding. If he would be fine being spirited away by Tom and to be never seen again in this mortal realm.
Tom’s hand gripped the back of his nape and the arm that rested along Harry’s back brought him flush against Tom. And Tom kissed him desperately, but could it be called kissing when his teeth gnaws upon Harry’s flesh as that of a starved beast.
Tom’s greed and desires consumes and burns greatly.
Such bitter want and need.
What an addicting taste it was for Harry.
Crack by crack, the marble broke away and Harry was finally able to see. It was misery and despair but how devastatingly beautiful it was to Harry. He wanted to drown in the creation that is Tom, not man, not God but monster and beast.
Tom was the first to break off, and he softly sighed, resting his forehead against Harry’s. It was cool against his flushed and heated skin, his fingers idly played with the strands of Tom’s hair.
They were a tangle 0f limbs, encompassing one another.
It was heart aching to know and feel how much he belonged there, right in Tom’s arms. He released a tremulous breath. He’s made his decision.
“Take me away.”
Tom had always asked and Harry had always ignored him but now…
Now he's fallen so far into the abyss that is Tom that he could not leave, as they have become so entangled with one another. He could not tell where he began nor where Tom ended. They have become an abomination.
He, himself has become an obscenity that would repulse even saints and sinners alike. He would no longer be accepted by those he loved anymore, they could not understand what he is. No, it was more that they wouldn’t, he’s too far gone in their eyes.
But Tom, he knows Tom understands what he was, is, and what he will become. To Tom he is a kindred spirit, he welcomes him. Yearns for him so destructively and obsessively. And Harry would let himself have that, to let go of everything else and tie himself to Tom, irrevocably.
Tom huffed a laugh against his neck, further burrowing into the delicate skin. Pulling Harry against himself, impossibly close. After leaving a peck, he leaned back, his gaze seared Harry’s skin.
“I’ll have you know that there will be no take backs. I will not let you go, no matter how much you scream and beg.” A hand came up to cup his face, and Harry leaned into it, face plush against the pads of Tom’s fingers.
“Is this a proposal?” He raised a brow, smiling against the other’s hand. Smile stretching further when Tom’s brow raised.
Tom tilted his head, “didn’t know I needed one.”
Harry huffed, rolling his eyes, “wouldn't even give me the courtesy of an answer.” Harry sighed, leaning into Tom, “I doubt I even had a choice in the first place.”
“You were mine, whether you liked it or not. No matter what the fates may have had in store for you. I would cut all your threads and tie it to mine and mine alone.”
Harry stabbed a finger into Tom’s rib, ignoring the sharp hiss, “you could have simply said I love you. You know, profess your love like a normal person.”
Tom sharply grabbed Harry's chin, “and you could have started the conversation like a sane person rather than taunting death. Do you wish to die Harry?” He murmured against Harry’s lips.
“I could make it happen easily. Even your death will be mine. All of it will be.” It was there he had a rather salacious smirk, canines that were far too sharp peaking out.
“You are obscene.”
“Thank you for the compliment but I was thinking more along the lines of both of us being obscene together. You would look ravishing, absolutely delightful”
Harry looked at the way Tom’s irises seemed to bleed and bled into the brown of his eyes. He really was a fool in love.
Harry let out one final sigh, sealing his fate.
“Have your way, you beast.”