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He may be looking at blue, but all he sees is red.
Harry had believed the emotional instability to be exorcised from him in conjunction with Tom Riddle, but that couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be, given what he felt now.
Hiding his surprise at the fact that his glass hasn’t shattered in his hand yet, Harry focuses on his mental walls. The normal comfort of blocking himself off instead feels suffocating, his mental sanctuary becoming as stifling as the four walls of his childhood cupboard.
He turns to leave the crowded Grimmauld Place kitchen, holding his breath to restrain the urge to scream or cry or do something equally dramatic.
Not him. He’s not even sure who the ‘him’ of the thought is—either, both? He just knows that he can’t watch them hold hands and exchange kisses at every family function for the rest of his life.
Anyone but him.
Harry had been doing so well. He and Gin had amicably divorced a few years ago, the two of them realizing that their childhood attachment had well and truly run its course. He had been on a few dates—nothing serious, but fulfilling enough he had thought—and he had stayed far, far away from Teddy.
He could still remember the last time that Teddy had pursued him with stunning clarity.
“Don’t tell me what I want or don’t want, Harry.”
Harry took a deep breath before bringing a hand to Teddy’s cheek. “I know, Teddy. Believe me, I know how it feels. More than you’d know.” Thinking that the first adult to want you unconditionally has hung the stars and moon is practically a rite of passage for a lifelong orphan. “You’ll outgrow me. You’ll want something more someday, and I can’t risk our relationship to give you that.”
When Harry had encouraged Teddy to find someone closer to his own age, he hadn’t exactly pictured James.
“Harry? Are you okay?”
Good gods, anyone but him.
Harry squeezes his eyes shut, fighting the anger welling up with every fibre of his being.
“I’m fine, Teddy. What are you doing up here?”
He bites his lip, and Harry has to avert his eyes to avoid doing something incredibly stupid. The hours he’s spent imagining those lips on his, even wrapped around his—
“Saw you leave,” he mumbled with a shrug, turning his gaze on the floor before lifting it to meet Harry’s. “I wanted to make sure nothing was wrong.”
Everything is wrong. Teddy’s wrong, Teddy with James is wrong—and, above all, Harry is most certainly wrong.
“I can’t take it.” The admission slips from Harry’s lips before he can stop it. Teddy’s brows furrow in the way that reminds Harry starkly of the now thirty-year-old’s childhood, the way he would frown when he couldn’t figure something out.
“I’m sorry?”
“You shouldn’t be—I should be,” Harry hisses in frustration before pulling Teddy into the nearest room, slamming the door a bit more than was warranted. “I can’t do it. I can’t see you like that, with him. I can’t tolerate resenting my own son, nearly hating him, for putting his hands on you.”
“What— what are you saying, Harry?” Teddy steps closer, and it’s the worst move he could’ve made.
Harry’s self-control collapses like a line of dominos, those two steps causing a chain reaction they would likely both come to regret. Before he even registers the movement, he has Teddy pushed up against the wall, one of his legs slotted between his thighs.
“I need to stop wondering.” Harry knows he likely makes no sense, and sees Teddy’s pupils dilate as he speaks. “I need to know.”
“Harry, please,” Teddy breathes against his cheek, and he strikes before he thinks better of it. His lips press hard against Teddy’s, his tongue easily parting them to caress Teddy’s as he tastes him. Teddy lets out a soft, sweet whine that goes straight to Harry’s cock, his erection pressing into Teddy’s hip.
“Fuck, Teds,” he pants against Teddy’s neck, the soft skin and overwhelming scent of him driving Harry absolutely mad. “What do you need, love? I’ll give you anything, I just can’t—”
“Shh, shh, it’s alright.” Teddy reaches a hand up to Harry’s cheek, rubbing it softly as their breathing slows, their foreheads pressed together. “I just need you. I know I can’t, or shouldn’t, but if there’s even a chance—”
Harry cuts him off with a kiss, his hands working on the buttons of Teddy’s shirt as he licks into his mouth. “Need you—all of you,” Harry says briefly before pushing Teddy’s shirt off of his shoulders and moving his hands over Teddy’s chest to thumb gently at the piercings. Teddy arches into his hands, his nipples pebbled under the attention as he mewls for “more, more, more.” Harry’s never seen a more magnificent sight than his godson falling apart in his hands. Harry knew he could put him back together—he always had, after all.
“Turn around, love.” Harry moves his hands to Teddy’s hips, rotating him to brace himself against the wall as he kneels behind him, unclasping his trousers and pulling them down his legs along with his pants.
“Harry, oh gods,” Teddy moans, his arse wiggling slightly in anticipation before Harry grasps his cheeks and pulls them apart. Nearly salivating at the sight of Teddy’s perfect, pink hole, he licks across it firmly, his cock pressing almost painfully against the front of his trousers at the high-pitched whine Teddy lets out, his hips bucking backwards wantonly.
“Perfect, Teds,” he murmurs against him before sucking wetly at Teddy’s puckered skin, his tongue delving into the tight entrance. “You’re perfect.” He loosens him with his tongue until Teddy’s a whimpering mess, his knees buckling at each intrusion.
“Harry, fuck, please,” he pants, a desperate edge to the sound. “Need you—fuck me,” he adds, and—as if that wasn’t clear enough—“need your cock, Harry.”
Truly, was there any way he could deny him? Now that the dam had broken, he doubted he’d be able to ever again.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers roughly into Teddy’s ear after standing, his hand guiding his cock to nudge against Teddy’s wet hole. He conjures a bit more lube in his hand, slicking his cock before pushing the head in.
“Is this alright, love?” He knew he’d never forgive himself for what they had done in this room—James’s childhood bedroom, for fuck’s sake—but he’d certainly never recover from hurting Teddy.
“More, Harry, need more,” he moans, leaning his head back against Harry’s shoulder. He wishes that he could face Teddy for this, but also knows that the likelihood that he’d fall apart would be exponentially greater. He pushes deeper, Teddy’s arse squeezing him gloriously inch by inch.
“Gods, Teddy, you feel so good,” Harry breathes into his neck, placing gentle kisses to the skin just below his turquoise hair. Teddy shudders under his mouth, and Harry pulls back slightly to give him a slow, deep thrust.
“Fuck,” Teddy whines, one hand winding behind him to wrap around Harry’s neck. “Feels so good—even better than I’ve ever imagined.”
Teddy’s words spark a flicker of awareness in Harry’s mind. “You imagine this a lot, hm?” He knows his next words are a mistake—the guilt emulsifying with some horrible, depraved need in him to claim, to make it known that Teddy is his.
“You imagine how I would feel when you’re with him?”
Him—said as if he’s a stranger, some arbitrary entity—not one of the few people Harry loves unconditionally.
Teddy whines in response, causing Harry to reach around his body to toy with a nipple piercing. “It’s a simple question, love,” he breathes against the shell of Teddy’s ear, his fingers rolling over the cool metal and rosy bud.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Teddy chants, and whether it’s a confession, a response, or something far less planned, Harry can’t know for sure. He grips Teddy’s hip hard as he slams into him, Teddy’s whimpers growing louder as he begs for Harry to keep going, don’t stop, never stop—
“Are you going to come for me, Teddy?” Going to paint the wall of your fiancée’s old bedroom with your cum? goes unsaid, the cruel, bitter words echoing in Harry’s mind—though he’d sooner Crucio himself than cause Teddy unnecessary pain.
“Harry, yes, fuck, gonna come—” He lets out one final cry before shuddering in Harry’s arms as his orgasm courses through him. He comes hard—his release coats the wall, his own clothes, Harry’s hand bracing them.
“Such a good boy—so good for me, Teds,” Harry groans, thrusting a few more times into him before he pulses in Teddy’s arse, emptying inside his godson. Teddy moans at the sensation, slumping against Harry as they both come down from their highs.
Harry doesn’t dare let go—though he’s not sure whether he’s keeping Teddy together or if Teddy is the only thing anchoring his feet to the floor. His knees want to buckle as the scorch of white-hot shame courses through him, the enormity of what they had done finally breaking through his fucked-out state.
“Teds.” He nuzzles at the juncture between Teddy’s neck and shoulder, trying desperately to use his scent to ground him. “Teds.”
“Oh gods.” Teddy’s broken voice bounces off the wall in front of him, his body giving way with just enough time for Harry to hold him as they both slide to the floor. “I can’t believe—when he finds out—”
Harry knows it’s inevitable, but the fact that Teddy says it so surely has his insides twisting with panic. “Maybe he won’t. If— if it didn’t mean anything, there’s no reason to hurt him, is there?”
He watches the back of Teddy’s head with rapt attention as he turns slowly in Harry’s hold, his blue eyes wide with guilt and sorrow. Much as he’d like to look away—to avoid the emotional rollercoaster—he can’t leave Teddy to deal with his mess alone.
“Didn’t mean anything?” Teddy echoes in a dead voice, the words ending in a disbelieving scoff. “What, just a pity fuck for the one that almost got away?” He shakes his head, his lower lip trembling but voice steady with fury. “Who needs a stag do when you’ve got Harry Potter to fuck you in his son’s bedroom?”
“Teddy, I didn’t mean that—”
“I’ve been in love with you for nearly half my life!” he shouts, the last word cracking as the first tear escapes from his eye. “You can say you didn’t feel anything, but don’t you dare say it didn’t mean anything.” Teddy lets out a humourless laugh. “You think I would’ve destroyed my own engagement for less?”
Without a second thought, Harry pulls Teddy to his chest, his hands running over every inch of him he can reach as he sobs reassurances and apologies into his hair. They’d figure it out, Harry would tell James for him, Teddy could have both of them, Harry would disappear if that’s what it took to make things right.
At Harry’s last desperate attempt to soothe Teddy’s pain, Teddy sits up straight and takes Harry’s face in his hands.
“No. You don’t get to leave me.” Teddy runs his thumbs across Harry’s cheekbones, the comforting touch making Harry feel much younger than his forty-seven years. “Not now that I finally have you.”
And he did. Teddy possessed Harry completely. But still, Harry had to ask.
“And what of James?” He fears the answer, but still, he continues. “Did you love him? Was he just there for you to fill a void or—”
“I did— I still do. I know I’ll love Jamie one way or another for the rest of my life.” He leans his forehead against Harry’s, speaking his next words into his lips. “But now that I know how it feels to be with you—it wouldn’t be fair. To stay with him. I’d always have one foot out.”
His honesty would be refreshing if it wasn’t so catastrophic. Harry thinks of James—his beautiful, trusting Jamie—and wonders once again how he could have been such a horrible father.
“Teddy—it’ll crush him.”
“He’s resilient. You don’t give him enough credit.” Teddy cards his fingers through Harry’s dark hair pensively. “Would you rather he has to divorce later in life because his marriage wasn’t fulfilling?”
“You could be happy with him, you know.”
“Maybe. But doesn’t he deserve better than a man who would shag his father at his own engagement party?”
Harry lets out a slightly pained noise at the crude but unfortunately true remark. “This was all me, Teds—you can’t think of this as a reflection on yourself.”
“I’d do it again.”
“Fuck, Teddy,” Harry groans, drawing back slightly and burying his face in his hands. “You can’t say things like that.”
“It’s true. Jamie deserves more.” Teddy stands, pulling his shirt back over his shoulders and closing his trousers. “Not until everyone’s gone, of course, but I’m going to tell him that.”
Harry knows the expression on his face is one of abject horror. “We can’t just—”
“I know. Trust me, I know.” Teddy gives him a sad smile as he stands as well, and leans in to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek. “But I’ll wait this time. Now that I know—it’s not in my head, and it’s not one-sided—I’ll wait as long as necessary. James deserves happiness, and so do we.”
Happiness. After ignoring his own needs for so long—or having them ignored for nearly his entire life—could he actually experience selfish happiness?
“You’ll wait?” he asks quietly, and his elevated heart rate calms as he feels Teddy reach for his hand.
“As long as you need. No one will ever take your place again.”