Speaking in Tongues

It hadn’t been Harry’s intention. It was only supposed to be a one time thing. At least, that was what he told himself each and every time he burrowed into Tom’s bed to breathe in more of his scent.

Harry was only supposed to indulge in this once and leave things at that. He wasn’t supposed to sneak off with the more worn clothes items Tom owned or the pencil’s he’d often see pressed against the boy’s lips.

But the first time Harry had slipped into Tom’s bedroom, he should have known that it wouldn’t be a one time thing. That getting his fix of the boy would result in absolute chaos from that point forward.

It was how he found himself once again in Tom’s bedroom, Tom’s green jumper pressed against his face as he inhaled more of that rich scent. Harry had never been able to identify what it was, whether it was Tom’s soap or if it was a cologne he tucked away somewhere in his closet of a room.

It smelled like the forest after the morning dew settled in the grass. After the passing of a storm that ravaged the trees, the sky’s darkened clouds shrouding the morning light with its gloom. Harry did not know how Tom managed to capture that smell, but Harry was certainly not complaining.

It was addicting and Harry could not help himself. He burrowed his face deeper into the wool sweater, ignoring the way it scratched at his face to breathe in more of Tom.

He closed his eyes to drink it in, relishing in the note of sweat that lingered on it. It was strangely human that Tom, a boy as untouchable and polite as he was could actually sweat. The boy was never ruffled. He was always impeccably dressed. His hair tamed and brushed to one side with only one riotous curl escaping the restrictive hold on his head.

Harry’s stomach curled pleasantly, suddenly overcome with need.

It should have been his first clue that his crush was a bit...more than a crush. That it was borderline creepy that he would sneak into the boy’s dorm to smell him and steal clothes Harry was certain Tom would not notice missing.

“Planning to take my favorite jumper as well?”

Harry jolted so badly he nearly toppled from the bed.

No.

Tom was not supposed to be back until at least another hour. The boy was a creature of habit. He never strayed from schedule, always following it like a priest followed the word of God.

Harry felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. He couldn’t find the will to look away from the jumper in his grip to glance at the boy that had caught him red handed. The shame burning in his stomach was too much, the knowledge that Tom had finally caught him in the act unbearable.

I fucked up. Oh god, I fucked up.

A thick silence settled around them. Harry was barely breathing, heart beating rapidly in his chest as he tried to think of a solution to this mess. But there was no explanation for why a boy Tom hardly knew was laying on Tom’s bed with Tom’s jumper pressed to his face.

Tom’s favorite jumper no less.

Harry opened his mouth, but only a strangled sound managed to escape his quivering lips. He was too bloody nervous. He hadn’t even grown the bollocks to look at Tom and he was standing a meter behind him.

Harry should at least look at him. It was the least he could do considering he’d been caught with little explanation for his conduct.

But Harry did not dare even when he knew it would only make things more awkward than they already were.

“You could have simply asked for it, you know. I would not have denied a request from you.”

Harry’s heart nearly stopped. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

It was impossible. It was absurd and unreal that Tom would even look in his direction.

Tom didn’t even know him!

“W-what?” Harry asked, finally tearing his gaze away from the jumper and shifting his position on the bed to look in Tom’s direction.

The door was directly behind Tom, the light from the open doorway submerging Tom’s face in shadow. Harry squinted to make out the boy’s expression, to see more than the white button down shirt the boy was wearing and the tight slacks smoothed over Tom’s supple thighs.

But there was nothing but shadow.

And yet, Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away. His mouth felt suddenly too dry, his throat tighter than the knot deep in the pit of his stomach.

“I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. Honestly, Harry…” Tom said, clearly exasperated before closing the door behind his back.

The lock clicked shut and Harry shot the door a startled glance. It echoed in the silent room and Harry tried his best not to panic at being locked in with his crush.

“To think, that I would have to corner you in my bedroom of all places. Is my presence that intimidating, Harry? Do I make you so nervous that even the sound of my voice makes you run with your tail tucked between your legs?”

Harry stiffened, mouth parting open in shock when Tom’s face was suddenly too close.

Before, there was no telling just what expression Tom wore. There was no telling if the boy was upset or amused at having caught him in the boy’s dorm. All Harry had was the almost unassuming tone in the boy’s voice.

But now, Harry knew for certain that Tom was not upset at all.

Tom was smiling, the dimple at the corner of his mouth made more pronounced by the genuine amusement in the boy’s eyes.

Harry had never seen that look in Tom’s face before. Not in all the time he’d been stalking Tom, skirting around him to avoid being caught in the act.

If Harry had known that Tom was capable of such an expression, he would have turned tail and run. His heart was beating too rapidly in his chest, and there was no telling what might happen from this point forward.

It was...frightening.

“...No.” Harry said, finally finding the courage to speak in that moment when Tom finally stopped in front of the bed.

Tom was standing directly in front of him. Centimeters away from Harry’s flushed face. He was so close that if Harry wanted, he could actually touch the boy he’d crushed on all year.

Harry’s vision swam.

“No? Are you certain? You look as though you might faint.” Tom teased, and Harry blinked in surprise when Tom was suddenly level with his face. Their faces so close that Harry could make out grey in the deep onyx of the boy’s eyes.

“...I don’t get it.” Harry muttered, eyes caught helplessly in Tom’s searching gaze.

This was the closest Harry had ever been to Tom. He’d never permitted himself to be even in the same room, and now, they were sharing the same air. With each breath Harry took, he was taking in the warm breaths of Tom’s into his mouth.

Tom wasn’t supposed to know about his crush. He wasn’t supposed to know him at all. They ran in different circles. They were in different years. For everyone else, they were perfect strangers.

But it seemed that Tom had known all along that Harry had been taking his things, if the slight smile of the boy’s lips was anything to go by. If this whole affair was any indication that Tom had only been biding his time. Tom even knew his bloody name!

Harry was at a loss for words. Tom had rendered him entirely speechless.

“How do you think you got into my room so easily? It certainly wasn’t by accident.”

Harry tightened his grip on the jumper when Tom leaned in closer still, his dark eyes flashing with an emotion Harry did not understand.

Had Tom been leading me on all along?

“It’s endearing. That you admire me to the point that you’d chance getting caught time and time again. I was curious of what you’d do if given the chance to come into my dorm.”

Harry scooted back when Tom crept closer as he spoke. None of this was making any sense, and Harry was certain he was losing complete control of the entire situation. The longer Tom spoke the more confusing everything became.

With each centimeter bridged by Tom’s face, the more aware Harry became. Somehow, Tom had seen through him. Tom had known about his sneaking into his dorm. There was no other explanation.

Those black eyes boring into Harry’s wide, green eyes had somehow speared through him to unveil all the secrets he’d buried deeply in his chest, and Harry had had no idea. It was insane.

“Y-you...set me up?” Harry asked, nearly squeaking at the end when his back met the wall of the dorm. He hadn’t noticed Tom had been backing him into it, but now, he was more than aware that Tom had been working him like a predator did its prey.

“Yes. I was wondering when you’d notice.”

Harry’s jaw dropped at the blithe way Tom said it, as if he were merely discussing the weather and not that he’d set up a trap Harry had unwittingly fallen for.

“That’s just...why?” Harry wanted to know.

He needed to know.

“Because I want you.”

Harry gaped, fingers digging into the wool like a lifeline when Tom reached out to smooth his fingers against Harry’s cheeks. They were warm to the touch. The boy’s nails like the rays of the morning sun that often bled from his bedroom window.

Harry’s couldn’t help the helpless sound that left his lips at just how nice it felt.

“And what I want, I take.”  Tom murmured, eyes flashing brightly with hunger before swooping down to lay a soft kiss against Harry’s parted lips.

Harry gasped and before he knew it, his fingers had abandoned Tom’s jumper in favor of the boy’s shoulder. He dragged the boy closer, suddenly hungry for more of the boy’s lips.

He tasted like dark chocolate. Both sweet and bitter on Harry’s lips as he tried to coax the boy to give him more than the chaste kiss he’d given.

Harry wanted more. Needed more than Tom had offered him.

But Tom only laughed into his lips before smoothing them over Harry’s quivering cheeks to kiss his ear.

Harry’s cheeks felt as though they might melt from the intensity of his arousal. His want was a writhing monster in the pit of his stomach.

This was his crush kissing him. This was the boy he’d never thought he could have, now within arm’s length. It was everything Harry could have ever dreamed and it made his insides twist.

“Please,” Harry moaned, but Tom did not kiss him again. His face lingered near his ear, the soft puff of his breaths tickling a sensitive point in Harry’s neck that he hadn’t known he had.

“Patience, Harry. We have this room entirely to ourselves.”