Both obsessed/Tom Riddle (completed)

041 Poison bath.

It was late, the air heavy with the stillness of night as Ernesh sat at his desk, quill scratching away at parchment. He was lost in his potions essay, utterly focused, his green eyes narrowed with concentration. The faint glow of candlelight reflected off his slit pupils, and his forked tongue flicked out occasionally, wetting his lips.

Tom Riddle stepped into the chamber bedroom, his movements quiet and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. He paused for a moment, watching Ernesh, his gaze sharp and calculating. There was a certain satisfaction in seeing Ernesh like this—so utterly consumed by his work, so pliable, so his.

Tom leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of Ernesh's head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips when Ernesh merely hummed in acknowledgment, not even looking up. Without a word, Tom turned and entered the adjoining bathroom, leaving the door ajar just enough to keep Ernesh from peering in.

Inside, he moved with purpose, his footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor. He turned on the faucet, letting the water run warm, almost hot, watching as steam began to rise and curl in the dimly lit space. His fingers traced the edge of the bathtub as he worked, his mind calculating his every move.

On the edge of the sink rested a small vial the love potion he had prepared earlier that week. Tom's eyes lingered on it, a glint of wicked anticipation sparking in their depths. He had read extensively about this particular method. Drinking the potion was one thing—it inspired infatuation, a desperate, uncontrollable yearning. But bathing in it? That allowed the potion to seep into the skin, into the very bloodstream. It didn't just create obsession; it amplified it to an unbearable, all-consuming level.

This wasn't mere curiosity for Tom. This was an experiment—a way to push Ernesh's already obsessive tendencies to their breaking point. He wanted to see how far Ernesh could fall, how tightly he could be bound to him.

Tom unscrewed the vial, tipping it over the water. The potion poured out, shimmering like liquid moonlight as it hit the surface. For a moment, the water sparkled, swirling with iridescent colors before settling back into its ordinary, transparent state. The only evidence of the potion's presence was the faint, heady aroma that lingered in the air—an intoxicating blend of Ernesh's favorite scents.

Satisfied, Tom stepped back, wiping his hands clean. He glanced toward the bedroom, where Ernesh was still hunched over his essay, blissfully unaware of what awaited him.

"Ernesh," Tom called softly.

The response was immediate. Ernesh abandoned his quill and parchment without hesitation, rising from his chair and walking swiftly to the bathroom. He stopped just inside the doorway, his dark green eyes wide and expectant as he waited for Tom's instructions.

Tom smirked, motioning him forward. "Come here."

Ernesh obeyed, stepping closer. Tom began undressing him with practiced ease, removing his robes and shirt, exposing the pale, wiry frame beneath. Ernesh stood perfectly still, his breathing steady, his gaze fixed solely on Tom.

With surprising gentleness, Tom lifted Ernesh and placed him into the bath. The water lapped at his skin, warm and inviting, and Ernesh let out a soft sigh as his body relaxed. He leaned back, his muscles loosening as the heat seeped into him.

Tom knelt beside the tub, his hands moving to Ernesh's hair, running his fingers through the damp strands in slow, soothing motions. His touch was calculated, an almost hypnotic gesture meant to lull Ernesh further into submission.

The potion worked quickly. A few minutes passed, and Ernesh began to shift in the water, his body twisting slightly as though trying to find the perfect position. His forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air, his breathing deepening. And then, his glowing green eyes locked onto Tom's.

Something had changed.

Tom smirked, leaning closer. "How do you feel?" he murmured, his voice low and velvety.

Ernesh didn't respond with words. Instead, he surged forward, capturing Tom's lips in a fervent kiss. His wet hands clung to Tom's sleeves, pulling him closer, his movements desperate and consuming. Tom allowed it, his smirk widening against Ernesh's lips before he finally pulled back.

"Better, then?" Tom asked, his tone laced with amusement.

Ernesh nodded, his gaze glassy and unfocused, his obsession burning brighter than ever. He whimpered softly, leaning into Tom's hand, his body trembling as the potion took hold.

Tom stood, wiping his hands clean, but before he could leave, Ernesh's voice stopped him.

"Join me," Ernesh murmured, his voice soft but insistent. "The bath is still warm."

Tom paused, considering the request. The temptation was there—if only to see what effect the potion might have on him—but he shook his head. "I can't," he said, his tone light but firm. "This was made just for you, love."

He walked to the bathroom closet, pulling out a small box. Returning to the tub, he opened it to reveal a necklace, ancient and gleaming faintly in the dim light.

"This," Tom said, holding it up, "belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself. But I've made it into something greater—a horcrux. I want you to have it."

Ernesh's eyes widened, his breath hitching as Tom placed the necklace around his neck.

"I trust you to protect it," Tom murmured, his fingers brushing against Ernesh's collarbone. "You won't fail me. I know you won't."

Ernesh nodded wordlessly, his lips parted in awe, his gaze fixed on Tom with a near-reverent intensity. When Tom lifted him from the bath, Ernesh clung to him, his wet skin pressed against Tom's robes. Tom dried him carefully, dressing him in clean clothes before carrying him to the bed.

That night, Ernesh was clingier than ever, his hands constantly seeking Tom's skin. He touched his neck, his chest, his arms, as though trying to memorize every detail. His lips found Tom's repeatedly, the kisses endless and fervent.

When they finally lay down, Ernesh sprawled on top of Tom, his head nestled against Tom's chest. He moved slightly in his sleep, his damp hair brushing against Tom's skin.

Tom, oblivious to the lingering potion in Ernesh's hair, buried his face in it, inhaling deeply.

Ernesh stirred, a faint, knowing smile curling at his lips. The potion wasn't fully absorbed yet and now, it was seeping into Tom.

...

...