Chapter Text
What am I doing?
The thought makes laps in Harry’s head as he waits for Tom to pull out of the parking lot first so that he can follow the man to his house. The question stays with him as the whole crew takes different exits when they reach the roundabout, signaling one last goodbye by flicking on their high beams for a second before they drive away. Harry does usually take the same exit as Tom but this time, rather than separating as they reach their usual intersection, he follows instead.
Harry keeps a safe distance from Tom as they drive through the city. It surprises him that they actually don't live too far from each other; it will probably only take Harry twenty minutes to return home.
Just take a quick look at Tom's car and let him know if he needs to bring it to the workshop or not.
In case the car does need work, Harry wonders if Tom would bring it to Marauders Engineering. It would be great if the Miura SVJ can be photographed inside the workshop. Having another rare car to work on would make his mechanics happy and it would be a great portfolio for marketing purposes too.
As Tom slows down, Harry does too. The Huracán's blinker turns on and then Tom is turning into a driveway lined with lush hedges, the paved driveway twisting so that there is privacy between the road and the house. Of course his house is fucking nice, Harry thinks as the building comes into view. It isn't a large house but it's extremely well built, the combination of old brick and modern windows with their black frame definitely fits with Tom's aesthetic.
Harry brakes to a stop as Tom does as well and then the automatic garage door opens. He laughs when he notices that the garage is almost as wide as the house. Truly a petrolhead’s dream. As Tom reverse parks, Harry turns the ignition off and gets out of the Mustang. The Huracán’s idling noise is loud inside the garage as it echoes off the walls, but soon enough Tom turns it off.
Distracted by the clean garage, Harry walks inside to look around at the dark cabinets on one side and then at the two other Lamborghinis sitting quietly. The garage is wide enough that Harry can easily stand between the cars with his arms stretched out and not touch any of them. Hearing a car door opening, Harry finally asks, “Are all your things in black?”
Tom looks amused as he closes the Huracán’s door. “Not everything. I like green too,” he replies. He motions at the still open garage door and Harry glances at it, his Mustang gleaming from the bright lights in Tom’s garage. “Do you mind if I close the door? It’s almost four and if you would like to start the Miura the V12 can get really loud,” Tom says.
“No, go ahead. Let’s not disturb your neighbors,” Harry replies.
As the garage doors start lowering, Harry returns to look at Tom’s cars. The Aventador is closest to him, sitting between the Huracán and the Miura. The car is clean and well-maintained but Harry can see dirt on the tires. He bites back a smile, glad that Tom wasn’t lying when he said that he uses the car frequently. Harry has been around too many clients that drive their cars only during the weekends or even not at all, much to his frustration.
But he’s not here for the Aventador, he’s here for the Miura, and so Harry moves along, letting out an awed sigh as he looks at the rare vintage car. He walks around it, admiring the sleek curves. Harry can tell that it has been restored lovingly and from what he can see, nothing seems to deviate from the original when it first came out in the 70s. The paint is a flawless black and Harry can see Tom stepping closer in the reflection.
“It’s so beautiful,” Harry sighs. “Where did you restore this? It looks too authentic to be done by anyone other than Lamborghini themselves.”
Tom chuckles from beside him. “You have really sharp eyes. It was restored by Polo Storico. It took a long time and the shipping from Italy had me worried a little bit but here it is now.”
Harry turns to look at Tom, grinning wide. “I knew it. No wonder it looks flawless.”
“I try to use it regularly but unfortunately there is only one of me and I have three cars to maintain,” Tom says.
“How many times a week do you usually drive it?”
“Similar to the others, about two or three times,” Tom answers, moving to lean against the Aventador. His hands are back in his pockets and Harry is starting to wonder if there’s another reason for him to do so aside from trying to look laid-back.
Harry shrugs, keeping his eyes locked on Tom’s. “That’s actually quite a decent amount. I like how you actually use them all and not let them sit as a display piece.”
“Well, why else would I want the car if not to drive it?” Tom asks.
“You’d be surprised by the number of people who do,” Harry scoffs. “Well, let’s see what’s wrong with the car. Start it up for me?”
Tom’s lips quirk up into a smirk and he pushes off the Aventador. “Of course, Harry.”
Harry watches closely as Tom moves past him, close enough so that their hands brush against each other. He forces himself to stay calm as Tom’s gaze doesn’t really leave him until he is some distance away, opening a door that leads inside the house. Harry lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when Tom disappeared from the doorway momentarily. When he reappears with the key in his hand, Harry gives him a small smile.
“Would you like to do the honors?” Tom asks when he’s next to Harry again.
Harry can’t help but to let out a laugh. “You’re really spoiling me today, aren’t you? First the Huracán, then the Miura.”
Tom holds up the key between them. Harry follows the movement, but his eyes snap back to Tom when the man starts to talk. “I can spoil you every day if you would allow me,” Tom says, gazing at Harry intensely.
Feeling himself flush a little, Harry decides to roll his eyes. “Again with the teasing. You really need to stop.”
He startles a little bit when he feels a hand around his, not expecting the contact. Tom’s hand feels hot on his skin as the other man lifts Harry’s hand up, twisting it slowly so that it’s palm up. As Tom lowers the Miura’s key on Harry’s hand, he says, “I’m not teasing you. I am simply making a promise that I intend to follow if, I repeat, if you would allow me.”
Harry gapes a little bit, feeling his face warm even further, and then Tom is chuckling. “I’ll let you think about it. For now, the Miura is yours to sit in and start.”
“I thought you were going to say that the Miura is mine,” Harry jokes, closing his fingers around the key, trying to calm down his erratic heart.
Tom removes his hand from Harry as he laughs. The loss of contact is a welcome thing because Harry is starting to think that he might get a heart attack if Tom never releases his hand. “Apologies, darling, that unfortunately might not happen,” Tom says. His eyes lock on Harry’s and he smirks. “Unless you persuade me. Somehow.”
Harry swallows. Okay, Tom really needs to stop with this 'darling' thing. “Let’s just start the Miura for now,” Harry breathes out.
He takes a step back away from Tom and turns to the car. He opens the door and sits inside, the vintage leather seats cool against his back. Harry pauses to admire the whole interior and runs his hand on the gated gear shifter before inserting the key into the ignition which is unusually placed near the gear shift.
Harry’s left foot presses down on the clutch and turns the key, while his right foot presses on the throttle slightly as carburetor based engines need a little fuel to actually start. As the V12 roars to life, Harry lets out another sigh. The engine is loud behind his ears. He turns around to look at the engine visible from the cabin, separated by a sheet of glass. From what he can see everything looks fine but Harry thinks that he should actually look at the engine too from outside. He’s already here anyway.
When he gets out of the car, Tom is simply standing there, a hand on top of the car, expression unreadable. Harry knows that Tom is keeping his gaze on him as he pulls the pin next to the driver's seat that allows him to release the latch that keeps the rear part of the car closed.
Harry is used to having eyes on him whenever he works on different cars in the workshop as his mechanics sometimes learns from him, but having Tom eyeing him is making him somewhat flustered. He focuses on lifting up the engine cover that doubles as the rear part of the car carefully, letting the guide wires hold it in place as he lets go.
The sound of the engine without anything covering it is amplified in the garage, loud and fierce as it idles. From what he hears, the idle is actually stable. He listens in a while longer and then reaches towards the throttle lever and pushes it in, revving the engine manually. The growl of the V12 is fantastic.
He straightens up, hands on his hips as stares at the engine. “Well, from what I can hear, it actually sounds pretty smooth. It probably only needs a tiny adjustment but nothing major,” Harry says. “I’m not going to open the air filter because if I do, I might start obsessing over it.”
Tom tilts his head slightly as if he’s considering something. “Like I said, you’re the pro, Harry. I believe you.”
Harry shoots Tom a small smile and pulls down the Miura’s clam shell, muting the engine back a little. He presses down on it before moving back to the driver’s seat, pushing back the latch and putting the pin back in place. The engine sound seems to still be echoing in Harry's ears as he turns the ignition off. After exiting the car, he stands beside it and taps the roof once fondly. "I can tune it quite easily, you just have to bring it to the workshop," Harry says.
"I will do so tomorrow then," Tom says as he takes a step forward towards Harry, eyes dark and intense.
There is that look again, Harry thinks, like he wants something from me.
Tom moves closer still, a hand now resting on the roof of the Miura as he somewhat traps Harry in between the open car door and himself. Granted, Harry can still move around him but it feels like he's caught, pinned under a gaze that seems to want to unravel him.
Harry is about to ask Tom why he’s looking at him like that when Tom beats him to it, speaking first. "Given the dynamics of our friendship prior to this day, I do have to ask. Why are you here, Harry?" He asks, voice dropping low.
Inhaling slowly, Harry answers with the steadiest voice he can manage from the unexpected question. "You asked if I would like to take a look at your car."
"I did," Tom says, his gaze steady. "You could've easily told me to deliver it to your workshop, but no, you wanted to come here."
"As a petrolhead I was curious about the car," Harry counters. He knows he’s definitely not lying about that.
Tom hums, looking like he doesn't believe Harry. "Is that truly all the reason you have, darling?"
"Would you stop with that?" Harry sighs, frustration creeping into his voice. He stares at the floor to avoid Tom's intense gaze, his breath not really filling his lungs. "Don't call me darling. I am not your darling."
"Yet."
Harry thinks he heard wrong, whipping his head up so fast that he feels lightheaded. "What did you say?"
"You are not my darling yet," Tom says, enunciating each word clearly in that low drawl.
Harry feels a shiver run down his spine. He thinks that his hearing might've been ruined by the Miura's V12 growling in an enclosed space from earlier. "What?" He finally snaps out in his flustered state.
"Ron is right, you know? On the surface I was teasing you—" Tom continues, moving even closer, "—but I think you know that I do have an underlying motive for my behavior. You understand what I'm trying to do on a subconscious level at least, because not once have I seen you truly get angry at me."
Harry scoffs. "I do get angry with you, you just didn't—"
"No, Harry, you get irritated and frustrated, but never truly angry," Tom says, cutting Harry off. Harry stands his ground even when his brain is yelling at him that Tom is now standing too close. "And that made me think that you know that I'm flirting with you and that you actually like it."
"I didn't think you were flirting with me," Harry splutters, voice slightly high.
"Then what did you think it was? Every time I tell you you're gorgeous, every time I tell you that I want you, that it was all just plain words?"
Distracted by the barrage of words from Tom, Harry is only now realizing that Tom’s other hand is on the door of the Miura, basically bracketing him in. Harry is barely paying attention now to the car that his back is leaning against, more focused on how close Tom is to him.
"No, Harry, my words carry weight and I don't play around," Tom says, voice low. "You know that we balance each other out. Don't deny it."
Harry knows he’s not going to deny it because he knows that he can only geek out completely over cars with Tom, and Hermione was right, as usual, that he does like it when Tom challenges him about anything. He’s aware that Tom likes it too every time Harry counters him with a different perspective, their discussion always spiraling into an endless conversation which their friends have to break up after a while because it would interfere with whatever gathering they were having.
It takes everything in Harry to stubbornly keep his eyes on Tom's. His eyes are so dark and Harry finally realizes that it's because his pupils are blown wide. Oh, Harry thinks, he wants me. "You never answered my question," Harry says, voice level.
Tom arches a brow. "Which one?"
Harry presses himself back tighter against the Miura when Tom leans in. "During the meet," he replies vaguely, not really wanting to elaborate. He knows that Tom will understand anyway.
"Ah, about how specific my taste in men is?" Tom asks in return with a smirk, like he's just trying to embarass Harry further.
Harry can definitely count Tom's eyelashes if he wants to. "Yes," he answers instead.
"Fine, I will tell you," Tom says low, eyes flitting down to Harry's lips. "He's obsessed with cars and is an amazing driver who owns a beautiful Mustang which is parked outside. He has black hair, a gorgeous face, and the most stunning green eyes I've ever seen."
"Sounds familiar," Harry breathes out.
"It should be. He's standing in front of me," Tom whispers.
Really, Harry should have expected this, but he still lets out a gasp when Tom finally kisses him. Fuck, Tom kisses like he drives. It’s intense and almost unforgiving in the way he holds Harry close, lips and tongue insistent and he's definitely, definitely, not letting Harry breathe.
Harry kisses back, lost in the feeling of his whole body being set alight, as if Tom's lips and tongue are sins he has been dying to taste and finally does. Like he's going too fast in a car and he's going to crash and burn.
With his befuddled brain, Harry actually manages to shove Tom away, creating the perfect space for him to pull his fist back and then connecting it hard with Tom's jaw. The punch is so solid that Tom staggers back. The other man looks extremely bewildered, hand holding his jaw which Harry is sure will bruise tomorrow.
But then Harry is grabbing the front of Tom's shirt, pulling him back in for another open-mouthed kiss, because, well, Harry wants more. Fuck it, he thinks, crashing and burning are sometimes inevitable.
"You're giving me mixed signals here," Tom growls out between kisses, pressing his body flush against Harry. A hand comes up to cup Harry's jaw, keeping him where Tom wants him as he continues to kiss him.
"Bedroom," Harry manages to gasp out when he tilts his head back as Tom’s hand grabs at his hair. He pants as Tom starts to leave bruising kisses against his neck. "Is that clear enough?"
Tom lets out a breathy laugh. "Very clear."
Ginny Weasley: Everybody
Ginny Weasley: I hv an important announcement
Hermione looks at the Doing God’s Work chat window on her laptop and slowly grabs her triple shot iced latte. She has managed to survive her morning meeting without her coffee but now she needs to stay awake for the rest of the day being alone in her office. She has a lot of work to do but Ginny’s message is too tempting to ignore. And it's almost lunch time anyway.
Pansy Parkinson: What is it
Pansy Parkinson: Guys I'm SO sleepy WTF
Ginny Weasley: Oh this WILL wake u up
Blaise Zabini: Spill it babe
Blaise Zabini: What is it?
Draco Malfoy: Straight up no dramatics pls
Draco Malfoy: I’m on espresso num 3 of the day
Draco Malfoy: And my damn father is dragging me in all his meetings
Draco Malfoy: This better b good
Hermione Granger: Is it a good announcement?
Hermione Granger: Sounds important.
Ginny Weasley: It is Hermione, it is
Ron Weasley: The suspense tho
Forwarded from: Tom Riddle
Thank you for the flirting input.
Pansy Parkinson: ?
Pansy Parkinson: Tom saying THANKS??
Blaise Zabini: Flirting input?
Draco Malfoy: We'll explain later
Draco Malfoy: U weren't there at the cafe
Ginny Weasley: Yes but anyway
Ginny Weasley: The best part is this
Forwarded from: Tom Riddle
[Image]
Hermione stares at the image Ginny has just sent and promptly chokes on her coffee. She coughs hard as incoming chats flood the window, the group sending out their reactions in a flurry of capitalized texts. Eyes watering from trying to inhale a proper breath, Hermione reads the chats.
Pansy Parkinson: ???????????
Pansy Parkinson: WAIT A GODDAMN MINUTE
Pansy Parkinson: THATS
Ron Weasley: A SELFIE???
Ron Weasley: TOM?????
Blaise Zabini: WHY R U LOOKING AT TOM
Draco Malfoy: THAT IS
Blaise Zabini: BEHIND
Pansy Parkinson: IS THAT POTTER
Draco Malfoy: POTTER
Ron Weasley: WHAT
Ron Weasley: HARRY NO
Pansy Parkinson: HARRY YES
Blaise Zabini: BRO????
Blaise Zabini: OMFG THEY
Draco Malfoy: FUCKED
Blaise Zabini: FUCKED
Pansy Parkinson: HOLY SHIT
In the photo, Hermione can only see half of Tom’s face, a smug smirk plastered on it. The photo is taken from a higher angle, showing a section of Tom’s neck marked with love bites and his bed. Behind him on the bed, she can see Harry’s head resting on a raised pillow, glasses off as he squints at his phone, obviously distracted and not realizing that Tom is taking a picture. Both of their hairs are mussed and it's evident that they've just woken up. The angle allows Tom to cover up Harry’s body who is obviously not wearing a shirt and Hermione definitely does not want to know if Harry is fully naked or not there.
Ginny Weasley: I ALMOST DIED
Ginny Weasley: PANIC ATTACK
Ginny Weasley: THERE I WAS WONDERING WHERE TF TOM IS
Ginny Weasley: WE HAD AN ANTIQUE DELIVERY AND HE’S NOT IN OFFICE
Ginny Weasley: AND THEN THAT
Ron Weasley: About FUCKING time though
Hermione Granger: I choked on my coffee, fucking hell.
Hermione Granger: Also, you need to pay up Ron LOL
Draco Malfoy: Finally the idiots are together
Ron Weasley: WAIT I LOST MY BET W HERMIONE
Ron Weasley: NOOOOOO
Hermione Granger: YESSSSS
Hermione Granger: Anyway, is that a bruise I see on Tom?
Blaise Zabini: Hickeys
Blaise Zabini: Yeah
Hermione Granger: No, on Tom’s jaw.
Ron Weasley: OH YEAH U R RIGHT
Pansy Parkinson: ASSDSJDHGFDLFSF LMAAOOOOO DID HARRY PUNCH HIM
Draco Malfoy: LMAO I’M NOT SURPRISED IF HE DID
Ginny Weasley: I’ll ask Tom IF he comes into office
Ron Weasley: I don’t think he’ll go to work Gin
Ron Weasley: He’s got someone TO DO
Pansy Parkinson: RON LMAO YES
Hermione Granger: I think this calls for a celebration. I say we add them in this group chat.
Draco Malfoy: Sure y not
Draco Malfoy: We can finally tease them outright thank FUCK
— Blaise Zabini changed the group name to CONGRATULATIONS YOU FINALLY FUCKED —
Ron Weasley: Perfect name
Blaise Zabini: Do the honors Granger
Hermione laughs as she picks her phone up to add both Harry and Tom into the group chat. Fucking finally.
“What is this?” Harry asks, staring at his phone. He sits up straight and stares in horror at the group chat he has just been added in. “Oh my god.”
He’s still looking at the chats that’s coming in through the group when he feels the bed dip beside him. “What?” He hears Tom ask, a strong arm slipping around his middle. Harry shivers a little when he feels Tom press a kiss on his bare shoulder.
“The group chat is called ‘Congratulations you finally fu—’” Harry cuts himself off, turning to look at Tom with disbelief. He finds the man trying to look innocent, eyes slightly wide with hair in disarray and actually looking irresistible. “You truly are a bastard,” Harry laughs. “You told our friends.”
Tom gives him a smirk. “You already know that I am one,” he says, leaning in to kiss Harry.
Harry lets him, letting out a low sound as Tom licks into his mouth. “I’m not going to deal with the group chat, you owe me that much,” Harry says when Tom allows him to breathe.
“No, you have to deal with them, darling. You already punched me,” Tom deadpans.
Harry laughs as Tom pulls him close, making him lay back on the bed. “You deserved the punch,” he says, not fighting back as Tom takes his phone away, setting it down on the nightstand.
Tom seems to ponder the statement for a little before he acquiesces. “I suppose I did,” Tom says before he dips in to kiss Harry’s neck. “Now, I have an idea on what we should do now, and then I’m thinking we can have lunch, and then a drive?”
“Dibs on the Miura,” Harry gasps out as Tom’s kisses go lower.
He feels Tom laugh against his skin. “It’s yours to drive, darling.”
Well, then Harry has nothing to protest about. Sounds like it’s going to be a great day.