"He would kill me—"
"He doesn't need to know—"
"Yeah, not a chance, he'll notice I'm limping—"
"Then stay with me until you don't limp, darling. And a lifetime after that."
Harry shot his boyfriend a scolding look. " 'Where were you?' 'Riding horses at my study buddy's house' won't cut it for him anymore! I'm surprised it even worked the first time. I don’t know who he thinks I know that has horses.”
The boyfriend in question, Tom, smiled wickedly. "Darling, one round? Even a half of a round?"
"How the fuck would we manage to have a half of a round of sex?"
Tom was silent for a moment before answering. "Maybe I can fuck your thighs? I'd love to, your thighs are sexy, sweetheart."
Harry rolled his eyes and pushed the face that was trying to kiss his neck— where Tom knew he would cave in— away. "We can't have sex tonight, Tom. James isn't away for the week like last time, and he isn't on a night shift like he was the time before that, and—"
"I get it," Tom grumbled. "Your dad’s a cockblock."
"Don't call him my dad," Harry said automatically. "He may be other people's father, but he will never be my dad."
Although he didn't look away from his hands, Harry was sure Tom was looking at him with sad eyes. "Of course. James is a cockblock. And an asshole. If you're worried about having sex tonight, I'm fine with that. But if you need a place to stay..."
"Please don't say that," Harry whispered. Glancing over at his boyfriend, he received a silent nod of approval before he curled up in Tom's chest, face hidden in the crook of his neck. "If you say that, I'll be tempted to stay, and James will get more and more curious. If he finds out we're dating—"
"So many 'if's, darling," Tom whispered in Harry's ear, before giving a warm kiss to the shell on the outside. "And he won't find out that we're dating. I won't let him."
Harry laughed. Not necessarily a joyful laugh, but more of a 'you're an idiot but you're my idiot' laugh. "I know you can do many things, but you wouldn't be able to do that for me. The only thing I can ask is that, if he does find out, can you hide me?"
"I'll do you one better," Tom said. "I'll hide with you."
"Tom—"
"Don't," Tom interrupted. "I'm not kidding. I know this wonderful place where you'd be treated like royalty and I'd be with you without James intervening."
"Oh yeah? And where's that, hell?" Harry asked sarcastically.
Tom stilled, but eventually his hand came up to rake through harry's hair. "Yeah," he answered finally.
Harry was silent for a moment, and let the soothing caress of Tom's fingers in his hair lull him close to sleep. "Maybe hell wouldn't be so bad if I'm there with you," he said into the other man's neck.
"Just me and you, sweetheart," Tom reassured.
—
Harry went home later still feeling Tom's cock thrusting in between his thighs.
How did he manage to actually have sex with Harry? How was it that Tom always got his own way?
He walked through back alleys and deserted streets. Of course, he took the longest way home— he would be punished for being late even if he had taken the fastest route.
Harry made it home in one piece. He silently opened the door with the keys he had been oh so graciously given by James before silently closing it behind him. He stayed in the exact same spot for a minute, trying to make out any sounds that would indicate James was still awake. When there were no sounds, he let out a sigh of relief and took off his shoes. Then, he turned around to go to his room. Instead, he screamed.
"Whaddare ya doin' out this late, boy?" James asked. “Do ya know wha time t'is?"
"Y-yes, sir," Harry stuttered, eyes looking at the glass bottle in fear. He had only just scarred over from the last glass experience. "Please, I'm s-sorry I c-came—"
He stopped talking when James sighed obnoxiously. "Yeah, yeah. Go up to yer room. Go!"
Harry down up to his room and shut the door quietly, careful not to make any sound that may aggravate James. Well, he says 'room' when in reality it's the cupboard under the stairs— but it's all he's known as his room. He sat down on his mattress and tried to calm his fast beating heart. That was too close for comfort. Especially with the next day being Halloween. James tended to get more angry and violent towards Harry’s mother’s death anniversary— Halloween night.
Halloween is terrible. He always gets hurt. When he was five, Harry asked James if he could go trick or treating, to which James just laughed and said if he left the house that night, he wouldn't be allowed back in. James didn't even let anyone come in to get candy, he just left a bucket of candy on the porch and let everyone have their fill.
Except Harry.
That was really when the torture began.
Harry had screamed so much that night that he was surprised no one could hear. When he went to daycare the next day, people came up to congratulate him. When he asked them why, the kids had told him he had the best scary house because the loud screams sounded so authentic. Ah, Harry had thought, they had heard, but they thought it was a joke.
Of course, it's not like they expected anything. His father made sure every bruise and cut would be fully hidden by clothing.
That whole day, he wanted to tell his caretaker what James had done to him. But who would believe a small five year old when he was accusing the local priest?
Harry shuddered out of the flashback. It has been a long twelve years. The only good thing about it was Tom.
Taking his phone out of his pocket (crazy, right? The only reason he has it was because it would look strange for a seventeen year old, almost eighteen, to not have a phone), he went to his messages.
To: s/o ❤;
hey, i got home but james was awake
To: s/o ❤;
he was holding a near empty vodka bottle. i'm gonna get slaughtered tmr
From: s/o ❤;
sweetheart, just try to focus on your breathing for now. tomorrow's sunday, so please come over instead of going to mass with your father
To: s/o ❤;
there's no way i'm gonna get out of going to mass tmr. he'll see i wasn't there and kill me tmr night.
From: s/o ❤;
he wouldn't kill you, darling
To: s/o ❤;
he'd hire a hitman then
To: s/o ❤;
listen, keep ur window open tmr cause i'm probably gonna try to escape. if i'm not on my phone by midnight tmr call an ambulance or the cops or smthin idk
From: s/o ❤;
you're worrying me
From: s/o ❤;
please come back here
To: s/o ❤;
and risk him catching me? no thx
From: s/o ❤;
if he drank more than half of a vodka bottle he's probably passed out right now and you can come over and i can feed you sweets until you have diabetes and hold you while we tenderly make love to careless whisper on loop
From: s/o ❤;
and if james comes over i would be quite pleased to punch his nuts before sucking yours
To: s/o ❤;
my saviour
From: s/o ❤;
i'm not joking. i'm worried
From: s/o ❤;
please be safe tomorrow. i'm not going to stop thinking about you
To: s/o ❤;
it's not like i have a choice
To: s/o ❤;
just keep ur window open
From: s/o ❤;
darling, i'll be waiting with the window open, no shirt, fly down, trouser buttons undone, lights low, mars bars™ all around me and careless whisper playing from my laptop
From: s/o ❤;
that’s something for you to look forward to
To: s/o ❤;
why do i put up with u
From: s/o ❤;
because daddy knows you best
From: s/o ❤;
shit i'm hard
From: s/o ❤;
help
To: s/o ❤;
goodnight daddy have a nice cold shower
From: s/o ❤;
fuck you
From: s/o ❤;
can i please fuck you
To; s/o ❤;
goodnight
From: s/o ❤;
goodnight
The last text was followed by a video of Tom grinding sensually into a pillow with 'Careless Whisper' playing in the background. The text that accompanied it said 'this could be us but you're sleeping'
Harry laughed as silently as he could before opening the camera in messages. He quickly took a photo of his eyes up, his left hand over his head and displaying the middle finger. He said 'and this finger could be up my asshole but daddy told me not to play with myself when he's not around'.
It didn't take long for the next text.
From: s/o ❤;
snapchat?
To: s/o ❤;
fuck yeah
Harry didn't get much sleep that night.
—
Harry woke up to fists pounding on his door.
"Wake up!" James screamed. "You're making pancakes and bacon before mass!"
Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Harry yawned before putting on his rarely worn glasses and standing up. He crouched until he left his room and made his way to the kitchen. There, he saw his father sitting in a chair and reading the newspaper. When he noticed his son had entered the room, James snapped his fingers and pointed to the stove. "Food. Now."
Harry felt rage bubble in his stomach but chose not to say anything as he obediently moved to the stove to make the pancakes and bacon. The entire time he had tensed shoulders. What would James do next? Would he flick his drink at Harry? Press his hands to the stove? He didn't like not knowing.
Soon, he had finished the food. Secretly, he stole a pancake and a piece of bacon and walked stealthily to the bathroom to put in his contacts before walking back to his bedroom. Thankfully, James didn't notice.
He opened his phone and went into his and Tom's messages.
To: s/o ❤;
so far so good, not dead yet
Almost immediately, Harry got a response.
From: s/o ❤;
good. keep me updated
Smiling slightly, Harry put the phone back on his mattress before turning around to sort through the small pile of clothes, most of which were clothes that Tom insisted he buy for Harry. That's where the daddy kink came from— Harry had said 'thanks daddy' as a joke and they then proceeded to have mall sex in the bathroom because Tom had a raging boner.
Deciding on black skinny jeans and a loose red jumper, Harry once again left the safety of his room. Quickly, he put on his shoes and waited for his father to come down. Soon, too soon for Harry, they were in the car to go to church.
"Sir, I was wondering if I could go to a friend's house after mass?"
James seemed to ponder the question and Harry couldn't help the hope simmering in his stomach. "Which friend?"
"Ron," Harry lied. He'd just need to tell Ron about it later.
James only hummed as he pulled the car into a slot in front of the church. "Fine. Be back by 6:30 or there'll be... repercussions." He smiled at Harry as if he only told him to have fun. Then, he left the car without saying another word.
—
Church was boring. Everyone was in a right mood because Halloween just so happened to land on a Sunday that year. They thought it was a sign from Voldemort, like they didn't know what coincidences are. Harry just had to bite his tongue and survive until James dropped him off at Ron's.
What seemed to be a hour later, Harry was in James' car being driven to Ron's house. Suddenly, when the road was empty, James swerved to the side of the road and looked at Harry expectantly. "Well?"
"Sir, this isn't Ron's house..?"
James rolled his eyes. "No shit. This is close enough. I don't feel comfortable with you in the car with me today, you might kill me too." The words came out harsh. Harry, accepting his fate, just opened the door of the car and got out. As soon as the door shut, James drove off.
A+ parenting.
—
By the time Harry got to Tom's house, it was around 40 minutes after he'd been dropped to the curb. He knew that, if he had actually been going to Ron's, it would have taken him another 30 minutes. 'Close enough' his arse.
As he got closer, he smiled when he noticed Tom had the window open and was blasting Careless Whisper. When he got even closer, he also realized his boyfriend didn't have a shirt on and his jeans were unbuckled enough so that Harry could see his pants underneath.
Smiling slightly, Harry ducked into the window— thankfully, Tom's bedroom window was at ground level, seeing as his room was half underground, so Harry didn't need to scale a building with no ladder just to enter Rapunzel style. While he was swinging his legs into the room, Tom sensed him and looked up. A smile bloomed on his face.
"Harry!" He exclaimed, relief on his face.
Harry huffed as he jumped down from the window and climbed onto the bed. "I only came because you promised me Mars bars," he joked, leaning over to kiss his boyfriend. He went to lean back to breathe, but Tom held the back of his head to make sure Harry didn't separate. Instead, Harry got comfortable on Tom's chest as they made out.
"You can't keep it in your pants for one day, can you?" Harry asked with a smile on his face as Tom kissed down his neck.
Tom hummed on Harry's neck, and the vibrations it caused where enough for Harry to feel it in his groin. "Let me think about that... yeah, I could, if my boyfriend didn't look so beautiful all the damn time."
Harry felt a blush rise on his cheeks and didn't respond. Tom must have noticed him being unusually quiet, so he stopped kissing Harry's neck and moved up so he could look Harry in the eye. "What's wrong?" He asked lightly.
"It's nothing," Harry discarded, "it's just... you look like a Calvin Klein model and I… well, I don’t."
Harry got like that often. Over the past decade, James had made it very clear that Harry was a waste of space, ugly, pathetic, and a bunch of very choice words. His self confidence had taken a plunge into the Marianas Trench and drowned before getting eaten by sharks. He personally thought he was disgusting, but compared to Tom he looked like a dirty rag. The worst part was that Tom barely knew he was attractive— rock hard abs (Harry could spend a day talking about them to anyone— well, maybe not James), fluffy chocolate brown hair, plump red lips, warm brown eyes with dark eyelashes, and he was 6'5. Compared to Harry and everyone else, he looked like a Greek god.
Tom brought a hand up to weave it into Harry's hair, before leaning in to lightly and softly kiss his lips. "You know I think you're beautiful, right? I don't care what James has to say. Ever since I laid my eyes on you I was mesmerized, darling. Don't put yourself down because some asshole in a position of power decided to make your life shit."
"I know, but..."
"There’s no argument," Tom said. "Now, I'm going to get a basket full of mars bars and I can turn on a movie to play in the background while we talk. How long do you think you can stay?"
"I told my dad I'd be back at 6:30, and considering I'm 20 minutes away from my house, at six just to be safe." A light dawned in his eyes. "Oh, speaking of which, I've got to text Ron..." He reached in to his pocket, feeling around for his phone. When he couldn't find it, he face palmed. "Shit! I left it on my mattress. Can I use your phone?"
Tom nodded and gave Harry his phone. "You know the password," he said. "I’ll be back in a second."
Harry gave Tom a nod before going back to the phone in his hand. Quickly, he turned off Careless Whisper, went into messages and (trying to ignore the heartwarming sight it was to see 'Sweetheart💚' as his contact name,) texted Ron. Harry laughed as he saw the name— it seemed Tom remembered every story Harry told him.
To: Weasley Is Our King;
hey this is harry, if james asks u can u pls tell him im with u
Almost immediately, Harry saw the three dots appear on the screen before Ron responded.
From: Weasley Is Our King;
shit mate no can do
From: Weasley Is Our King;
im out of town for the week remember?? he knows
From: Weasley Is Our King;
dad got a call from work about smtn going on with his a branch in manchester or smtn and we all needed to go with him for some fuckin reason
From: Weasley Is Our King;
trust me mate id rather not be here
From: Weasley Is Our King;
have fun getting that dick tho😏
Harry felt his heart drop directly out of his asshole when he reread all the texts for the third time, hoping he had misread them. But no, the texts didn't magically delete themselves. This was real.
And Harry was fucked.
There was no way in hell that James had forgotten that Ron wasn't in town. He must have known from the moment Harry asked. Was that why he had agreed so easily?
The only tiny part of his brain that wasn't freaking out was trying to rationalize with him. 'There's no way he'll know you're with Tom right now, or even that you're dating. The only way he'd ever figure out is if he went through your phone, which is—'
Harry's heart stopped.
James could go through Harry's phone. When Harry had first gotten it, James jailbroke his phone to make sure he could never change the passcode. If he got Harry's phone and looked through the messages, he'd know for sure Harry and Tom were dating. Even if he only looked through his photos, he'd see multiple photos of himself and Tom doing couple things, and Snapchat would be even worse. Instagram would be fine, seeing as only a select few of Harry's friends knew about their relationship, but still. Harry was so fucked.
His heart started beating a mile a minute and suddenly he got very lightheaded. Harry could feel his eyes start to tear up. James was going to kill him.
That was when Tom walked back in and saw Harry freaking out with his phone clutched in his hands and tears starting to form in his eyes. He quickly put the box of Mars bars on the ground, and ran over to his boyfriend. Sitting down next to him, Tom quickly put his arm around him while using the other to scoop Harry up and place him safely in his lap, cocooning him.
"Harry what's wrong?" Tom asked, one of his hands rubbing Harry's thighs and his other massaging his scalp as he whispered in his ear. "Please tell me, I can't help unless you do."
Harry tried to take a couple deep breaths before answering. "J-james probably knows," he sobbed, "I left my phone at home and he knows the password and he knows Ron isn't home and he's gonna kill me and he's gonna kill you and—"
"Darling," Tom interrupted lightly, trying to calm Harry down, "what's this about Ron?"
Harry sniffed. "I told James I was going to Ron's instead, but I texted Ron so that he knew too but he reminded me he was out of town and James knows which means he's gonna be confused and look through my phone and—" Harry sobbed, unable to continue. "I didn't delete our text messages from last night."
Tom hid Harry's face into the crook of his neck as he listened to him cry once more. Instead of saying anything, Tom kept kissing random places on Harry's head in an attempt to calm him down. Soon, Harry calmed down enough to only whimper.
They stayed like that until Tom's phone rang. Out of curiosity, Tom reached for it and saw the contact photo— it was Harry, wearing one of his sweatshirts and smiling up at him. Harry must have seen this, because he started crying even harder.
It was James.
To try and calm his boyfriend down once more, Tom picked him up and quickly set him down onto the bed, making sure his head was properly set on the pillows. Then, he stood up and answered the call.
"Who is this?" Was the first thing he heard James say. Tom thought he sounded like a drunk gorilla. Not impressed.
"You called someone you don't even know?" Tom drawled. "Not the best first impression for your future son-in-law."
Tom could hear a growl on the other line. "What the fuck are you doing with my son?"
"At the moment, nothing. Just in case you're too drunk to notice, I'm on the phone with you."
James took a few very noticeable deep breaths. "Who are you to my son?"
"You saw his contact name, didn't you?"
"You're not his father!"
Tom rolled his eyes. "I know you're not innocent. To answer your question, I'm the one that loves him enough that he doesn’t think about how you hit him sometimes."
James was silent for a moment. "You know? The bastard told you?"
"Of course I fucking know!" Tom hissed. He saw Harry start crying even harder, so he leaned down and kissed his cheek before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. "And no, he didn't tell me. It's kind of hard to ignore scars littering someone's back and bruises everywhere. Now, tell me... are you going to fucking make up for being an abuser to my sweetheart, or am I going to have to threaten you until you do?"
"It's not like he didn't deserve it!" James yelled. "He's the reason Lily's—"
"He didn't deserve that shit!" Tom yelled. "Fuck, listen to yourself for once! Your wife died in a car accident with Harry in the seat in the back, yes, but you're religious! Shouldn't you believe it's a miracle he's alive, the last piece of her? I'm not religious but fuck, I think that!"
"You're not religious?" His voice dropped three octaves.
Tom smirked and lowered his voice. "God doesn't mean shit to me," he said, "and you'd better believe that I could fucking kill you from fright if you knew what I am."
"Where are you?"
Tom sent him the address in messages.
"You'll regret that," James laughed evilly.
"Oh, I'm sure I won't."
As soon as the call was over, Tom re-entered the room and climbed into the bed, making Harry latch on to him.
"What happened?" Harry asked.
Tom wiped Harry's wet cheeks. "He's coming over to try and kill me," he whispered.
Harry tensed and looked up at Tom in fear. "Tom, this isn't a game. I know you like joking around and you have this sense that you're immortal but you're not and—" he sobbed, "I don't know what I'd do if you die."
"I won't die," was all Tom said.
Harry looked up and Tom felt his heart swell when he saw the red-rimmed eyes. "What did I just say about you thinking you're immortal? Please don't fight him, Tom. I-I'll leave and draw him away from you if it comes to that."
Tom was silent for a moment, processing what Harry had said. "No," Tom whispered. "You're not doing that. Just let me take care of him and then we can leave."
The silent 'where' was left unsaid. Harry was whipped enough that he would follow Tom anywhere, and Tom was too scared to tell Harry where.
Harry kissed Tom's chin, which was very strangely adorable and warmed Tom's heart. "You better be careful," he warned, "you don't know how hard he can hit."
Tom growled. "And the fact that you know that gives me enough motivation to hit him harder. Harry, you just stay right here and wait for me to come back up, okay?"
"And if you don't come back?"
Green eyes met brown in the warmest way possible. Tom leaned in and kissed the tip of Harry's nose. "I will," was all he said.
They were silent, and opted to only sweet kisses and caresses, until they heard a car park into the driveway. Tom quickly kissed Harry's lips one last time before getting up. Before he could get too far, a small and delicate hand clasped around his wrist. Turning back, Tom saw that Harry was biting his lip. "If you die, I'm going to kill you."
Tom smiled warmly and smoothly brought Harry's hand up so he could kiss the palm. "If I die, I promise I'd let you beat the shit out of me."
With that, Tom let go of Harry's hand and left the room, taking great care into closing the door behind him. With great steps, he walked over to a seemingly inconspicuous floorboard near the fridge. Crouching down, he lifted up the board with ease to reveal a weapon he had been hiding from Harry for a while now— Voldemort's trident.
Well, it was Tom's, but saying 'Tom's trident' sounded slightly less terrifying, although it made great use of alliteration.
With great care, Tom removed his trident from the ground and placed the floorboard back into position. As he stood up, he let the waves of power course through his veins. Of course, even without his trident Tom would be able to beat James' ass, but Tom had said he would frighten the shit out of him, so he might as well pull out all the props.
He just worried that Harry would think of him differently. In a perfect world he wouldn't, but if Harry becomes scared of him, well...
For Tom, good things never really last.
He knew he should have told Harry when they first got together. Especially when he found out about James. But every time he tried to tell Harry, he found himself unable to. Tom had never been scared to lose anything, but Harry was different.
He shrunk the trident down to about an inch before he placed it in his pocket. Then he ventured outside, where James was waiting for him.
With a gun.
Tom sneered. James thought a gun could harm him? Foolish. He couldn't wait to see his face when Tom pulled out his trident.
Silently and unnoticeably, Tom looked to his left and into his still open bedroom window. Harry, obviously scared shitless, was holding a pillow tight to his chest as he gazed on in horror. He must have seen the gun.
"You really think I would have come here unarmed?" James taunted. "Ha! I always preach about how faggots are stupid. Of course, I'm always right, so this isn't surprising."
Tom let his eyes wander over to James. He was wearing an all dark outfit, as to not be seen. Tom still wasn't wearing a shirt and, last he had checked, his pants weren't done up, and he didn't remember whether or not he had fixed that. Now was not the time to check.
"And I always say that the people who are too fanatically involved with my loving father always end up meeting me instead of Him," Tom retorted, "and it appears that I have, once again, been proven right."
James snorted. "Is this the kind of bullshit you've been spewing at my son?" He looked over at Harry. "And you think this is going to beat me?"
Harry glared at James. "He could beat you any day of the week, James," he said. "I'm just wondering whether or not you have the balls to face your sins."
"I have committed no sins!" James yelled, his eyes blazing in unhindered fury. "I have only ever done what my lord and saviour has told me to do! You," he pointed at Harry with the gun, "did not deserve to live that night."
"I was one!" Harry shouted. "It was not anyone's fault except for the drunk driver that hit us! And now that I think of it, it's kind of ironic, isn't it? That a drunk was the one to kill her and yet her husband, who loved her oh so dearly, has become one himself. Look what you have done! She would hate you! Look what you have done to her only child! I am the only thing left of her! Her blood runs in my veins! Imagine her face once she has seen my scars. Imagine her face once she has seen all my nightmares. Imagine her face once she has felt my fear of seeing you, her loving husband, every single fucking day! She'd be disgusted."
Wow, Tom thought. That was a good speech. Harry had probably been keeping that in for twelve years.
James got a better grip on his gun. "Lies!" He screeched. "All lies! You killed her! You're the reason she's dead! And now— now you're going to meet the same fate as her!"
Harry's eyes widened as he saw the gun point directly as his forehead. It was better him than Tom, he guessed.
However, just as James shot the bullet, Tom intercepted it.
With his body.
Harry himself felt pain rocket through his heart as he saw Tom get shot by James. He flicked the pillow to the side and ran up to the window, just in case Tom fell through and Harry would need to catch him. However, Tom didn't move at all. Harry's panicked cries turned into confused calling's of Tom's name. Soon, Tom moved— but it was only to cock his head to the side.
"Did you really think that was going to kill me, James Potter?" He asked darkly. "All that's done is anger me. Now, this isn't child's play. Put the gun down."
When James made no move to put the gun on the ground, Tom flicked his hand and the gun was sent shooting at the garbage bin, effectively falling into it.
James made confused stutters. "But... that shot right into the heart..."
Tom tutted. "You couldn't think it would be that easy, could you? Fool. I did tell you I could kill you from fright just by knowing who I am. So, would you like to know who I am?"
Now scared, James quickly shook his head. Tom chuckled darkly. "Well, you don't have a choice."
James' legs suddenly shot together and his arms shot to his torso, seeming like they were glued there. Tom wasn't trying to be gentle as he forced James to turn left. He wrote 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' in the air using his finger, the words seeming as if written using fire. "A seemingly inconspicuous and normal name, isn't it? No one would assume anything. Not even you, a deeply religious man."
"What... do you... mean?" The words came out as if it were a struggle. Of course, this was because Tom was constricting James' airways. It wasn't like he was going to live much longer anyways.
Taking one last longing look at Harry, knowing it may be his last, Tom smirked and flicked his hand. The letters in the air rearranged themselves into:
I AM LORD VOLDEMORT
James started crying. "Get back, devil! I have done nothing—"
"You hurt Harry!" Tom raged. His eyes were, without a doubt, now red. "You hurt him in more ways than I can count! Out of everyone in this entire godforsaken world, he is the one that deserves it the least! You didn't even try to love him," Tom sneered. "Hell doesn't have a deep enough layer that deals with your treachery. I'm sure that, once I have you within my grasp, the judges will rule that I will personally deal with you."
"Please," James begged, "I'm sorry—"
As quick as lightning, Tom drew his trident, regrew it to its natural size, and stuck James' head in between two of the prongs. He lifted enough so that he would not be able to touch the ground, and his whole body was supported by his ears. When he lifted his hands to try and free himself, the trident burnt them enough that he was forced to let go.
"How many times had Harry asked for mercy!" Tom exclaimed. "How many times had you beaten him close to death, only for waking up five minutes late! How many times had I wanted to rip through the house and burn your internal organs one by one until I could stuff you with your own ashes like a turkey on thanksgiving? I should have done this two years prior, but I must admit I was too much of a coward to lose something I have been waiting Millenia for." He lifted the trident up higher, causing James to shriek. "But now I will not back down until I can permanently torture you."
"God would never—" James chocked.
"You think you've earned a way to heaven just by preaching half-truths and beautiful lies? You think that telling people that there is some supernatural being looking over their shoulder and judging whether they are right or wrong is going to save you from a fate of eternal damnation? Foolish mortal."
After this, Tom pushed James off of his trident, the points at the ends tearing through the skin under his ears. Intelligently, he stayed down. Or maybe it was out of fear. To make sure he stayed down and out of the way, he slammed the bottom of his trident to the ground and watched as a searing white-hot cage encased James.
Shrinking the trident and placing it back into his pocket, Tom looked around for Harry. Last he had seen him he was in Tom's bedroom but, with a quick inspection, he was not there anymore. Tom closed his eyes tightly. Of course Harry wasn't going to stay. Someone so wonderful could never stay with the Devil.
Suddenly, Tom heard the door open and shut. "You have a lot of explaining to do, asshole!" Harry shouted. "You didn't think that I may want to know that my boyfriend is literally the Devil, huh? And letting me believe you were going to be killed!" Harry started pushing on Tom's chest. "I. Thought. You. Died! I thought James had fucking killed you, Tom! Imagine seeing the person you love shot right in front of you!" Harry stopped suddenly, his eyes becoming watery as he gazed up at Tom's face. "Why didn't you take me away from here as fast as you could?"
Tom's heart melted and he immediately leaned down to capture Harry in a warm hug, and Harry hugged him back. Feeling the hot tears on his chest, Tom nearly started crying as well. They were because of him. "I was selfish. I love you too much and that love made me not want to lose you, and I thought for sure that if you knew I'm the Devil you would leave me and never look back. I couldn't tell you that I can't be shot dead because you would figure me out, and I didn't want my last moments with you to be spent with you angry with me, as selfish as it was. And I couldn't take you away, however much I wanted to, because of the same reason." Tom sobbed and hid his face in Harry's neck. "I'm so sorry, darling."
They were silent for a moment, crying into each other, before Harry pulled back and wiped his face. "You're an idiot of you think I'd leave you because of that, Tom."
Tom's eyes shot wide open. "What?" Was all he could say.
"You're still Tom. It's not like in the past couple weeks you've suddenly turned into a different person. Besides, I love you. I never want to leave you. And, since you're Lord Voldemort, we can have some very kinky sex that you have been holding me back from."
Tom stared into Harry's face, looking for any lies, but all he could detect were truths. He gathered Harry up in his arms again and kissed his face all over.
Harry giggled and lightly pushed Tom's chest back, as he didn't really want it to stop. "I think we have a little someone to deal with right now, don't you think?"
Pulling away, Tom looked mischievously into Harry's eyes, who mirrored the look. They kissed and, as if it were only a dream, the three men and the cage disappeared from sight.