He breathed deeply, watching the skin revealed, little by little. Enthralled, he ran his eyes over his lover, now naked, robes lying in pools around his feet. As if he feared that Tom would drown in them and disappear, Harry stepped forward quickly, stopping just inches from him.

Without words, Harry led Tom to the bed, gently urging him to sit. He looked so fragile there, looking shyly up at him, trusting him with his vulnerable state. And Harry, young as he was, felt a sudden surge of power. It lit up his eyes, stoking the fires already burning with want. For he was here, before him. And he, the Boy Who Lived, finally felt that for once, he had complete power over this creature.

Slowly, he pushed Tom on his back, smiling tenderly, showing him that yes, it’s all right… what we’re doing. But those eyes, so much like his own, only stared back, honestly wanting whatever Harry desired… And trusting him with his self.

So fearless, his Tom.

Harry could hardly breathe. His excitement rankled him. It ran down his body in millions of little points, ordering him to claim this boy before him. But he kept his urges in check. There would be time for that later. Right now, there was something more important.

With great care, he gripped Tom’s ankles with his hands as he moved lower, bending over his lover’s body.

Then, suddenly, he let go. Tom raised his head and looked at him questioningly. Harry didn’t reply. Instead, he spread his hands over Tom’s skin, fingers splayed over his calves, curving around their lovely shape. Then, barely touching him, the hands traveled upwards. Teasing.

Tom caught his breath as he felt the faint whispers of warmth on his skin, barely grazing him, driving him wild with every inch. He moaned as Harry reached his quivering thighs. He felt those gentle fingers tickle his limbs, naughtily staying away from his aching member. They moved to the side, spreading over his groin as he clutched the sheets with his fists to keep himself from going out of control.

Harry took care not to press too hard, keeping his touch light as he brushed the length of sinuous muscles under Tom’s pale skin.

For he wanted something this rare to be wonderful.

The hands teased his nipples, scraping the tips ever so slightly—the pure, delightful hint of a touch.  He couldn’t help himself. Tom bit his lip, trying not to groan with the sheer torture of it all. He was far gone by now, he couldn’t even think. All he was able to do was feel; his body housing his arousal, barely able to hold him from reaching out and stopping that endless torment. For he knew that only one thing would make Harry happy tonight:

Submission.

And he was more than willing to accede.

But as he felt those fingers slide into his own hands, Harry’s demeanor changed. For one strange moment, he looked at Tom oddly, head tilting slightly. Nervous, Tom swallowed. There was something… threatening there, and he fought a small urge to sink back into the sheets. Instead, he gripped Harry’s hand, imprisoning them with his fingers, daring the boy to do what he wanted.

And Harry suddenly lost control. He pressed his body into Tom’s, covering the whole of his lover with himself. They kissed hungrily, their teeth almost biting into the flesh of their lips. And they must have done so, for Tom tasted the sharp sting of blood on his tongue. It only turned his lust, and he thrashed wildly as Harry bucked against him, their weeping cocks between their hips.

He almost cried as he felt it… his lover’s heated length. And all of a sudden, friction was no longer enough. Gasping, Tom spread his legs, willing the other to himself, wishing to bring an end to this exquisite pain.

Harry cupped Tom’s buttocks, his eyes closing as he kneaded the firm globes with his fingertips. He wanted to bury himself inside Tom, tear into him instantly and release his lust into this sinful body. He could almost imagine the tightness closing around him, and he hardened even more with the thought. Knowing that he won’t be able to hold out much longer, he inserted two fingers into Tom’s mouth. And the Slytherin joyously complied, sucking on his digits eagerly. Saliva dribbled down his cheek as he whipped his head to the side, pink mouth closing around Harry’s skin.

His fingers wet, Harry brought them down and prodded Tom’s entrance. The boy sobbed, silently begging him for more. He raised his hips against Harry’s hand, wanting to feel all inside. Harry inserted his fingers, torturously slow, inside him. He prodded, thrusting gently as the other boy bucked beneath him, coating Tom’s insides with his own moisture.

He took his fingers out, ignoring the boy’s disappointed whimpers beneath him. Harry raised Tom’s hips slightly, preferring to see him as he did this. For a second, he paused, resting his dripping tip against the aching hole, as he locked his eyes on Tom’s.

Then he entered, gradually, easing his length completely into Tom’s pliant body. As soon as he was fully inside, Harry withdrew, before forcing in again. His thrusts grew faster, drowning Tom with their strength.  The Slytherin felt the delicious assault on his prostate. He moaned, panting, hips moving to their rhythm, as Harry rode him with no remorse, bringing him closer to the peak with each plunge.

Just when he thought that he could no longer stand it, Tom heard Harry shout, and felt the rush of heat inside him. He came moments later, Harry’s fingers wrapped around his cock, spraying them both with his come. The night, it seemed, echoed with their cries.

They wound down together, wrapped around each other’s arms as they waited for their breathing to calm. Harry was still inside Tom, their bodies joined as they cooled, tired lips touching Tom’s neck.

Minutes later, Harry raised his head. He smiled at Tom, green on green.

After all, the night was long.

And submission could go both ways.

End.