Chapter Text
“How much for a night with you?”
“Five Galleons,” Harry says, turning towards the guy who just slipped onto the bar stool beside him. The voice sounded weirdly familiar, which doesn’t make much sense. Most of the people Harry knows aren’t even alive yet.
Harry almost chokes on his own spit. He would have recognized that face anywhere.
Tom Riddle raises an eyebrow, somehow managing to convey confusion and concern at the same time. Harry averts his eyes. He was never good at hiding his emotions, and Riddle caught him on the wrong foot.
“This is my free night, though,” Harry lies. “Sorry.”
He’s not going to have sex with a twenty-year-old Tom Riddle. He won’t sink that low.
“Hm. Not even for twenty-five Galleons?”
Harry swallows. That’s a lot of money. It should be enough to finally afford that new coat he will need for the winter. And yet, Harry hesitates. He can’t risk changing the future. He still hopes he will, somehow, find a way to return to his friends. It’d be stupid to risk that just because he doesn’t want to freeze.
But why should Riddle sleeping with some whore change history? That’s ridiculous.
“Alright,” Harry sighs. “But only if you pay for the room.”
***
“Is there anything you don’t want me to do?” Harry asks when Riddle closes the door behind them.
“Don’t touch me below the waist unless I ask you to.”
Harry blinks. That’s an odd request.
“Anything you don’t want me to do?”
“Yes,” Harry says and starts listing off all the things he won’t tolerate, half-expecting Riddle to interrupt him halfway through and walk away. He wouldn’t be the first one to do so. But Riddle just listens intently and nods at the end of it.
“Take off your clothes.”
Harry shrugs out of his robes, trying not to think about the absurdity of the situation. It doesn’t really work. That’s not exactly a surprise, of course, considering that he is about to have sex with a guy who will turn into a mass murdering lunatic.
Soon, they are both naked, and Riddle crawls into the bed, beckoning Harry to follow him. Riddle pulls Harry against him, chest to back, and it’s a shock to feel how smooth and warm Riddle’s skin is. After pulling the blankets over them, Riddle exhales softly, and Harry relaxes his muscles consciously.
Riddle lazily moves a hand over Harry’s chest and stomach, rubbing his nose softly against the back of Harry’s neck. Harry shivers and leans his head forward slightly to give him better access. The corners of his mouth move upwards into a small smile. Who would have thought that Riddle enjoyed foreplay and such gentle foreplay at that?
Riddle moves his nose from Harry’s neck to his shoulder. His soft exhale gives Harry goosebumps of the pleasant kind. Harry moves slightly backward, pressing his back more firmly against Riddle’s chest. It’s been ages since he felt so warm and comfortable. He already dreads the moment Riddle will inevitably get tired of cuddling.
Riddle’s hand stops moving above Harry’s heart, and he digs his fingernails into Harry’s skin, gently enough not to hurt. Then Riddle replaces his nose with his lips and kisses his way from Harry’s shoulder to his neck. Harry lets out an encouraging hum once Riddle reaches his neck and licks the sensitive skin there before moving lower to tease Harry’s collarbone.
Harry twists in the hold Riddle has on him. “That tickles.”
Riddle laughs quietly, a sound jarring enough to make Harry blink. Then he presses his lips so softly against Harry’s collarbone that it feels like all of his bones are turning into goo, leaving him lax and malleable.
The hand pulling on Harry’s shoulder doesn’t come as a surprise, and yet Harry seems incapable of suppressing his disappointment. Apparently, he’d been more touch-starved than he realized — which is ironic since he spends a lot of time touching people out of necessity.
Harry doesn’t fight it when Riddle turns him around and pulls him against his chest, face to face this time. Riddle’s eyes flicker over his face. It’s impossible to miss the thoughtful glint in them.
Riddle pushes a hand into Harry’s hair, and Harry’s eyes almost slip closed as Riddle caresses his scalp. There’s something oddly relaxing about it.
“Look at you,” Riddle murmurs, pressing his lips to Harry’s temple. “You’re perfect. You know that, don’t you? You know exactly what you’re doing to me.”
Harry frowns slightly as Riddle presses soft kisses all over his face, getting closer and closer to Harry’s lips. He has no clue what Riddle is on about, but this doesn’t seem to be the best moment to mention that. So he just hums and parts his lips slightly when Riddle finally reaches his lips.
Riddle’s lips are incredibly soft. Softer even than Ginny’s and Cho’s had been. Harry exhales shakily through his nose and hesitantly returns the kiss.
This has to be the gentlest kiss I ever got.
While their lips move against each other, barely even touching, Riddle pulls his hand out of Harry’s hair and moves it down his back, along his spine. Riddle’s fingers stop right before the swell of Harry’s arse before slowly moving upwards again. Harry shivers and presses himself more firmly against Riddle, the friction of his hard nipples against Riddle’s chest more than a little distracting.
When Riddle brushes his tongue against Harry’s lips, he opens his mouth on instinct, eager to get more of this, to be held and caressed and kissed until he forgets who and where he is.
After what felt like an eternity, Riddle presses one last kiss to Harry’s lips before he draws back and pulls Harry’s head against his chest. Harry presses a few lazy kisses against Riddle’s warm skin and closes his eyes. He wants to take a moment to enjoy this warm, fuzzy feeling inside of him before Riddle inevitably moves on to the main event of the night.
***
When Harry wakes up, he’s alone. That in and of itself isn’t surprising, of course. Most of his clients leave after a few rounds. The confusing part is that Harry and Riddle didn’t even get to the first round. Harry must have nodded off against Riddle’s chest. Harry lets out a frustrated hiss and bites his swollen lips.
Well, that’s certainly one way to avoid paying. I should have known Riddle wouldn’t have that much money to spend.
Harry rolls onto his side and freezes.
There are ten stacks of coins on the bedside table, each consisting of five Galleons. It’s ten times as much as he usually gets from his customers and twice as much as Riddle and Harry agreed on.
Harry rolls back onto his back and stares at the ceiling for a long moment. Then the corners of his mouth start twitching, and before he knows it, he’s grinning like a madman.