Tomarry One Shots

Stuck With You

Summary: Harry woke up to the rustling of bedclothes, Tom making himself comfortable next to him as he got ready for bed. Their schedules didn't align most of the time, and there were too many times when Harry had wanted to say fuck it and kidnap them both so they had time to rest, for once. Managing an entire government—Tom—and an entire castle filled with mischievous students—Harry—meant that they could only meet each other in stolen moments like this, when Tom was trying his best to stay quiet and not wake him up. Harry felt his heart swell with affection to the man laid down beside him, burning slowly within him enough to light up a thousand suns.

Ship: HarryPotter/TomRiddle

All credit goes to a_sentimental_man on Ao3

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Harry woke up to the rustling of bedclothes, Tom making himself comfortable next to him as he got ready for bed. Their schedules didn't align most of the time, and there were too many times when Harry had wanted to say fuck it and kidnap them both so they had time to rest, for once. Managing an entire government—Tom—and an entire castle filled with mischievous students—Harry—meant that they could only meet each other in stolen moments like this, when Tom was trying his best to stay quiet and not wake him up. Harry felt his heart swell with affection to the man laid down beside him, burning slowly within him enough to light up a thousand suns.

Tom always made him feel like this—as if there was nothing he would do for Harry, and all Harry could do was accept it.

"Tom?" Harry murmured, and Tom paused. Harry could only make out half of Tom's face in the dim light, but the fond look he shot Harry's way was clear as day. Harry felt himself flush underneath the attention, still not used to Tom's whole attention focused on him even though it had been years since they'd gotten married. Harry hadn't been a different man back then, but there was something to be said about growing more and more certain that you would raze the entire world just to see the man beside you be happy and content.

"Did I wake you up, Harry?" Tom asked, concern clear in his voice, if not his gaze. "I'm sorry my love, you can go back to sleep—"

But that was the last thing Harry wanted to do. He reached out to draw Tom back into the bed, enough that he landed on top of him with a quiet oof. He rolled the both of them around so he was on top of Tom, Tom looking stunned but not complaining in the least about the manhandling.

"I'm doing no such thing," Harry said firmly. "It's been too fucking long since I've seen you."

Tom looked stunned for a long moment before a smile lit up his face, making him look more handsome than he already was. "Is that so, my Harry?" he asked, and Harry blushed underneath the intensity of that gaze, the certainty that Tom was his and only his. Tom reached out to cup Harry's face in his hands, and kissed him.

Tom tasted like he always did—of love and warmth and obsession, of the man who'd saved Harry again and again, who'd brought him home despite everything that had happened between them. Harry opened his mouth, deepening the kiss and letting a tongue lap gently into his mouth, making them both moan.

Harry felt the heat pooling into his groin, the urge to touch growing by the minute. It had been a while since they had time like this, and Harry had missed the intimacy that came with kissing the love of his life breathless, necking on the bed like teenagers for a while until Harry got tired of it and made his way down Tom's body, all wandering hands and soft kisses on the side of Tom's neck.

"I see my Harry missed me," Tom gasped out as Harry sucked a hickey to the side of Tom's neck, knowing with no small amount of satisfaction that it would bruise nicely in the morning. Tom would make no move to cover it—he loved displaying the fact he was Harry's, and Harry adored it more than anything.

"More than anything," Harry admitted, no shame in his voice. It only took a flick of his wrist until they were both naked, Harry desperate to feel like he hadn't felt for a long time. Tom was always handsome, and Harry couldn't help the tears that threatened to choke him whenever he thought of how good of a life he had, sometimes. He kissed his way down Tom's neck, licking and biting his nipples while Tom moaned underneath the touch. Tom seemed to have missed their intimacy, too—usually, it was Tom who would be doing this to Harry, who would be taking him apart piece by piece. But Harry was content to give Tom this—especially since having a flushed and panting Tom Riddle underneath wasn't anything he would be complaining about any time soon.

"Harry," Tom gasped, and Harry looked down at Tom, who was looking more and more desperate by the minute at even this little bit of foreplay, his cock hard and aching against Harry's hips. And it wasn't like Harry wasn't the same—the desire was building up, bit by bit until it was all Harry could do to hold on to every bit of sanity he had for the sake of his husband. "Inside me. Right now." The last words were almost a hiss.

And Harry had always been quick on the uptake—it didn't even take him a second to summon a bottle of lube, draping a generous amount over his hand and inching two fingers inside, bit by bit then all at once. It was always a rarity when Tom let him do this; Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd topped, and he was quite satisfied by those arrangements most of the time. But there was something to be said about the way Tom's face was screwed up from the pleasure-pain of the stretch, immediately drawing into a moan as Harry finally found his prostate.

"My love," Tom said, his voice broken and desperate, and Harry couldn't resist crooking his fingers a bit more to make Tom moan, back almost arching off the bed as he got lost in the pleasure. Harry's cock was aching— and when Tom looked at him, grey eyes pleading, Harry didn't need more prompting to replace his fingers with his cock, both of them groaning at the stretch. Tom screwed his eyes shut as Harry fully bottomed out. 

Tom was a vision before him—all soft limbs, bruises blooming at the crook of his neck and grasping his hands tightly on their bedsheets. Harry stopped for a second to take a deep breath before Tom whispered at him to fucking move, and Harry had never been able to say no to Tom, not really. He drew in and out of Tom, both of them incoherent with pleasure as Tom met Harry thrust for thrust. It had been a long time since they'd done this, and it wasn't long before they were both coming with a groan, Harry flopping down gracelessly on top of Tom. It was a testament to how Tom was that he didn't even complain, and merely pressed a kiss to the side of Harry's head.

Harry muttered a quick Scourgify to clean the two of them up, and it wasn't long before they fell asleep like this, encased in each other's warmth and more content than they'd felt in days.