Chapter Text
Time had no importance in the depths of the Chamber. The mess of their limbs still tied together, their breathing even, their eyes closed. Beside the other and their warmth nothing mattered. While their bodies were now littered with the other's marks, their souls are now, in the calm of the aftermath, seeking the other. In a tangible song of obsession, despair and longing than no other living or non living being could recreate.
Surprisingly, the first to break the silence was Tom. The Slytherin heir decided that having an awoken partner was overrated, decided to give to the other all the pent up obsession he has over him, the carnal way.
Slowly, Tom slipped underneath the blood stained covers to reveal more of Harry's sun tainted skin. He didn't waste any time, he started biting on the other’s thighs enough to draw blood, all while Harry remained unaware. Tom littered the others with crescent teeth marks. Harry was his and his only and it would remain that way forever.
Deeming his work enough for now, Tom decided that no harm could be done to him if he gave up to the carnal urges calling, or more like screaming at his brain to own Harry in every way possible. The latter even deep in his sleep loved the ministrations caused by the other. The state of his rock hard member that Tom started tracing with his tongue is agreeing with the great treatment he receives.
Tom deemed that waking up from an orgasm would definitely put Harry in the mood, to let him do more, to let him do his share of the marking, took half of Harry's dick in his mouth and completed with a messy handjob to stimulate what he couldn't fit in his mouth.
Harry woke up in a muted shout from his first orgasm. He was so blissed out he nearly fell right back asleep, but Tom’s utterly debauched face, with a bit of his cum staining his sinful red lips, was everything he needed to start his day. Harry would gladly indulge him. He wanted no, he needed to be at the receiving end of Tom's power, lust, need and want.
“Already darling?” Harry asked, looking right into Tom's needy soul. “You can do anything you want to me. It is your turn, and rightfully so”. Tom's reaction was immediate, his lips came crashing onto Harry's, the latter gave him all power, all control. It was intoxicating. It was all Tom ever wanted.
He used Harry’s lack of response to push him on his back in the pool of his crimson blood tainted bed sheets. Tom was restraining Harry's body with his own but also with the help of magic. No bounds were needed, here, in the safety of the Chamber of Secret, it was them and them only. Therefore, no need to restrain one's magic, no need to bound one's power.
Harry was rendered useless as he was bound by Tom at all levels. Physically, by the other slender body applying pressure where it was more than welcomed. Mentally, but he was not alone in this, Tom was as enamoured as Harry was. Magically, and it made Harry so lightheaded, To, even at this age was a whole lot more powerful than him. He was restraining him and his magic, alone. He loved being under the control of the other too much for his own good.
Still bare of clothes, Tom conjured a dagger. “It is cursed to mark. Harry James Potter, you are mine and mine alone forever.” Harry was already gone, because he thought, but only for a few seconds about the good side he will, or more like already left behind, and he realised that if it means he could live with and for Tom forevermore, he would make the same choices over and over again. At that realization, a small laugh escaped him.
Tom had deliberately waited for Harry to unknowingly offer himself to him, and a bit of Legitimency was what he needed to know that he indeed swayed the boy over. Now that he had what he desired, he would indulge them both with their more human needs.
The blade pierced Harry's skin on top of his heart. Tom eyed the blood that pulled out of the swallow cut he formed. T.M.R. Harry was his. If anyone would be seeing him naked, they would see, they would know, Harry now beread his mark forever.
Harry was lost once again to pleasure this time. When the blade started picking at his skin, he knew why Tom wanted more. He moaned Tom's name as he came untouched. Then, the other started licking at his wound, and “oohhh, please, please, please” Harry was a crying mess. Tom was kicking all of his barriers down. No one ever tended his wound when it hurt, no one ever held him into a strong embrace, no one ever loved him like this.
Tom was smirking against Harry's skin as he alternatively bite into his neck or added to the ever growing collection of hickeys the short brunette spotted. “Please what my dear?”, he asked, his voice rougher than usual but no less commanding. When the only answer he got was a weak moan, he left the comfort of Harry's neck to look at his delightful face. He was crying. He was crying but also smiling.
Tom's face illuminated, he started rutting against Harry, perfect decorum completely forgotten, a switch had been switched against his will but he could not stop looking at the beautiful mess that was his lover. He smiled back, blood still seeping through his teeth. At that moment, he looked like a proper monster. Blood, smirk, scars scattered along his body and an intense lust to possess.
Harry loved every second of this. His body however was screaming under the assault of sensations. It was so much but he never wanted this to end. He was crying, trashing around and pleading, but he didn’t know if it was to get more or to get away from it all. Tom was watching Harry fighting against himself, and pleading. “My, my, you plead so well my love. I might give you what you need.” The answer was immediate “Oh yess please Tom, anything, anything for you”. The parseltongue mixed with the pleading and a promise was enough to bring Tom to the edge, he did so by releasing an inhuman groan, reminding Harry exactly who was in his bed.
Tom could not stop, overstimulation not being an immediate problem for him. However this time, his thoughts turned darker. He wanted Harry to cry, not just a bit but he wanted, no, needed to see a torrent of tears beneath him. It's with thoughts of tears, pain, pleasures, desire and ownership that Tom started exploring lower. His lover begged in hisses, his voice so used it could not produce proper English anymore.
Even with his lack of experience, Tom still knew the theory behind what he was doing, but it's Harry's moaned hisses of pleasure that tells him he is doing well. A cleaning and lubrication spell later and Tom finally could enter his lover. “Oh Tom! Don't bother with one, start with two. Oh please Tom!” The latter chuckled, of course his lover would be used to this, and just like that, Harry lost his last coherent thoughts. Tom skillfully inserted two of his long pale fingers inside his lover to prepare him for what's coming next.
Tom couldn't get rid of the smirk that plagued his face. His lover hisses of delights and tears of overstimulation were doing things he couldn't name to him. But this time instead of going against it he braced himself for what was to come. Four fingers down, he decided it was enough, and Harry too apparently “Tommmmm, plea- oh! please stop teasing me! I need you! Oh oh yes! Please! You- you need to mark me from the inside!” And that was it. Tom lost any remaining self control. He was glad he chose to go down that path. Now it was his.
“You feel so good my darling Harry” Tom tried to say, sounding the least weak possible. But the tight heat engulfing him in ways he never thought remotely possible was shaking him to the core. Harry's face was wet with tears, oh so delicious tears! His red bloodied mouth from all the kissing was open in silent moan. His eyes were white, they were rolled to the back of his head, as if it would help him with the assault of pleasure he was feeling. And his body, his perfectly, beautiful body was arched to invite him in. How lovely. He had his darling Harry and now his body, devoted to him.
His first trusts were weak, his body still trying to recover from his lover's perfect body. Tom was visibly shaking, not only his body but his entire being was being rewired. They all told him he could not feel things other than anger and what derived from it. But, no amount of anger or no amount of anything could describe what he felt in that moment. He keep trusting in Harry with all the living force he still possessed, he would not lose what he hasn't fully acquired yet.
Harry was whining or at least produced an equivalent in parseltongue. Tom decided he could and would do anything for him. To see Harry's tears, hear his hissed pleas, to feel his body shakes in pleasure. Tom knew he would reach his high soon, after all, all of the pleasures would have to end, but not before reaching the perfection. He reached Harry's face, cradled it between his fingers and kissed him fiercely, while his other hand was doing his best to restrain Harry’s lower body to keep his last trusts going on smoothly, or as smoothly as they can be.
He felt more than heard Harry orgasm, the thigh heat he called perfection sucked him in becoming more of a vice, he couldn't move, his ears were filled with soft soothing white noise, his eyes met the back of his head as his body arched. He shot his load inside of his lover, who was shaking and crying violently, but he couldn't hear what Harry said, everything was muffled by the sound of his own deep guttural moan. He collapsed.
When he woke up, everything seemed to be back as if nothing had happened, except for Harry's body, now completely marked, Tom’s eyes drifted to his lover's ass, from the inside out. He grinned and more tightly than before resumed his role as the big spoon.
The next day, when they finally decided to resurface, they entered the Great Hall for lunch and everything became silent. It started by the Slytherins raising themselves, making space to accommodate the powerful duo. The other Houses wanted to know what was happening, immediately cutting their conversations short. Both of them sat exactly like during their first meal, Harry's thigh against Tom's, right at the middle of the table, their back straight, but this time, their smiles or smirks were deadlier than ever. They would fight with each other and not against the other.
Everything was resuming again, people started eating first then starting new conversation. All except for Dumbledore, who with a knowing look sighed, he would need help with the both of them. He could not let them rise. It would be the end of their world. He didn’t know who Harry was nor how he arrived here, but he felt dangerous. He would dare say even more so than Tom would ever be.
Meanwhile, the two boys Dumbledore was scared about, were announcing their involvement with each other. How they talked and merged their different opinions to create the ultimate guidance for those who seek it. The message was well understood by the Slytherins, they would rise, they would rule, they would salve the despair that Magical Britain became. When they shall do, it would be best for all to stand by them and not against them.
However, the Knights knew that with Harry’s apparition, and now, his involvement with their Lord and his plans, it was all over. Their Lord Voldemort would never rise. He left his place to another Lord, and it would take some time for them to really judge if Harry's influence is great for their Lord or if the prime of Lord Voldemort was stolen away from him by his lover.
Harry was smirking. A deadly smirk. He would rule. He would make the Dark Lord merciful but no less bloodthirsty. No, Harry basked in his lover's bloodlust, he basked in his power and promises of greatness. He knew it was over for the light the moment the crucio red eyes stared at him on the first day,but he would not fall alone, he would bring Tom with him. Afterall, they became too deeply dependant of the other to live without.
Afterall, one cannot live while the other survives. Harry decided that they would both live, if they are together in this, there is no need for one to survive.