Chapter Text
"I'm sorry, Harry, but I really can't give you more time than that. If it's all up to me, I'd give you a month but mom's not lenient enough."
Harry sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "You don't have to apologize, Oliver. It's not your fault I couldn't pay my own rent. I'm more than grateful already that you managed to convince your mother to give me more time."
"Don't be silly, Harry. I owe you more than that."
"No, you don't," Harry quickly says. "You don't owe me anything at all, man. I've joined the team because I want to."
"And only when you did that we managed to bag the championship for three years straight. My father is so damn proud, you had no idea!"
Despite himself, Harry chuckles at the glee in Oliver's voice. "It's a team effort, Oliver. Don't undermine our team's power."
"Yeah, yeah. Ever the noble Potter, aren't you?" Oliver chuckles. "Anyway, I have to hang up now. Tell me if you still can't pay the full rent in a week's time, I'll think of something to help you with mom. Okay?"
"Alright, Oliver. Thank you so much. Good luck on your business."
"And good luck with finding a new job, mate. I hope the Potter luck works again."
Harry snorts, and then the line ends. He throws his phone on his bed as he plops himself on it. He puts his arms on his eyes and bites his lips to prevent himself from crying out of frustration.
He's exhausted. Amidst all the struggles he's facing at the same time, he just can't take it anymore. He couldn't ask Hermione since she's as stressed as he is with all the organization and clubs she's in on top of her academic works, and he can't ask Ron either since he barely pays his own tuition on time.
It's just too much for Harry. He doubts he'll be able to find another job in a week's time and juggle all of his university stuff and varsity pressures if he ever finds one.
Should I just off myself? That'll be the easiest way to end this bloody miserable life.
As quick as the thought came, he immediately shoved it away. He mentally scolds himself for even thinking about it. Ron and Hermione would never forgive him if they learned he so much as thought about it.
No. That's not a good idea, not at all.
Harry lets out a shaky sigh when he hears the doorbell ring. Despite not wanting to face anyone right now, he doesn't want to be rude in case it's the landlady— which he hopes is not.
Thankfully, it wasn't. Although he's not sure he's really that grateful of who it was standing outside his flat instead of the landlady.
"Good afternoon our dear Harrykins—"
"— your favorite twins are—"
"— here to inform you of—"
"— this one in a lifetime opportunity—"
"— that we learned just a few minutes ago!"
Harry blinks. "What?"
"Oh, right. That's so rude of us, Forge."
"You're absolutely right, Gred. We should've gone inside first before telling dear Harrykins here."
"Why don't you lead us, dear brother?"
"This way, Gred!"
With that, George walks past Harry with Fred in tow, inviting themselves inside Harry's small unit without waiting for the owner's permission. Like they always do.
Shaking his head, Harry mentally prepares himself for another exhausting hour with the twins.
He sees the twins sitting comfortably on the couch, feet prop on the small table in front of it. He sits on the couch across the two red-head fellows, an eyebrow raised questioningly.
"Okay. We won't beat around the bush—"
"— Oliver had told us—"
"— that you're struggling to pay—"
"— your rent here and that you're—"
"— going to find a new job—"
"— so we're here to help you!"
Harry averts his gaze from the twins, shame filling his chest. He doesn't want anyone else to find out his financial struggles, especially from the Weasley family who had struggled more than he does and yet managed to have five of their children graduate, and the other two still in college like him. And they're working students like him as well yet they weren't this pitiful.
Fred and George exchanged looks, a knowing glint in their eyes as they nodded, as if they had agreed on something.
"Harry, look at us," George says ever so softly.
"You don't have to feel so ashamed of it, Harrykins," Fred adds. "Especially with us. You know we're a family, right?"
But Harry still didn't look up.
"We didn't come here to make you feel ashamed of your struggles, Harry. We're here to help you with it."
"That is, if you'll agree. Personally, I don't think you'll ever agree to it. I told George so."
"Well, we'll never know unless we try, don't we? And it's worth the try if it all works in the end, isn't it?"
That piques Harry's attention. He lifts his head and looks at the twins in confusion. "What are you talking about? And no twin talk right now please. I'm really not in the best mood to decipher your way of talking."
"Worry not, Harrykins!" George exclaims. "We're going to be serious. Aren't we, Fred?"
"We are, George," Fred nodded and almost immediately, their faces went serious. "Alright, Harry. Hear us out first, okay?"
Although doubtful, Harry just nodded.
"So, we've come across this job post on social media. Are you familiar with VolTech Innovations, Riddle Investigative Services, and TMR Corporation?"
Harry shakes his head. "But that sounds prestigious and expensive. Are they hiring? Because I doubt an undergraduate like me can be accepted."
"Yes," George answers at the same time Fred says. "No." It made Harry even more confused seeing the twins blurting out different answers at the same time. It's such a rare occurrence, and Harry doesn't know what to make of it.
"Okay?" Harry trails off.
"They're sort of hiring? But not in the aforementioned companies," George explains. "The CEO is looking for a personal assistant. One he can bring everywhere and can order around with anything even outside of the work, which a secretary can't do."
"A personal assistant that can be ordered around with anything and everywhere," Harry repeats blankly. "You know I'm a college student, right?"
"This is why I told George you wouldn't agree. The salary is high, but a personal assistant's job almost has no break."
"But at least the pay is worth it. Harrykins can even quit his part-time job and still have pocket money."
"Wait, how much exactly is the pay?"
Fred and George exchanged brief glances, with the latter smirking knowingly before responding to Harry.
"According to the job description, given that a busy man like the CEO requires so much help for his other errands, which means a bunch of workloads for his personal assistant, it ranges from thirty-five thousand to fifty thousand pounds. There are also other benefits which include additional payment if the CEO requires your service during your day off."
Harry's eyes widened. "T-thirty to fifty thousand pounds?" He asks in disbelief. That's more than what he needs! It can solve more than one of his problems!
But as quickly as the happiness and excitement came, realization dawned on Harry that he might not be able to juggle the work with his university workloads.
He wonders if he can negotiate the time with the CEO. The salary is too high for him to pass it up. Maybe he can just quit the basketball team and his part-time job?
No. He promised Oliver he wouldn't leave the team, and he owed Oliver a lot. He also loves playing, so he just can't give it up.
"It's up to you, Harrykins. But just a small warning; if you want it, you need to decide quickly. The CEO is a rather popular man and his business is well-known. A lot of people flock to apply for the job, but rumor says no one lasts for more than a day at the job so up until now, the job post is still up."
"Thanks, Fred," Harry says dryly. It makes him overthink how tedious and difficult the job is if no one lasts for more than a day. Not even the prospect of a handsome boss excites him.
"Anytime, Harrykins. Anytime," the twins happily reply.
×××
"I honestly don't know what to advise you, Harry," Hermione softly says. "We're thinking of the same thing: it's a job you can't just pass up because the salary could really help you a lot right now but it will take too much of your time if you accept it. I heard personal assistants are supposed to be with their employer most of the time. And you have classes too aside from all the other schoolwork they dump on us. It might get exhausting for you."
"Yeah. Don't wanna get burned out," Harry agrees. "But I think it will just be the same if I find another job, isn't it? The salaries for part-time workers aren't that high, and yet it will take too much of my time as well."
"Just try it, Harry. No one's going to shame you if you won't last long in that job. The twins said no one lasts for more than a day, right? An addition of a university student in that pile of people wouldn't be noticeable," Ron exclaims from the kitchen.
"Ron has a point," Ginny adds.
"I do have those moments," Ron replies. "Besides, no harm in trying, isn't it?"
"It's all up to you, Harry. If it doesn't work, we'll help you look for another job," Hermione says, smiling at him in that comforting way that makes Harry feel like everything would be alright.
His friends always make him feel that way, which is why he immediately calls them after talking to the twins.
Harry smiles back, "Yeah."
"And who knows? You might charm the CEO and he lets you negotiate with your schedule," Ginny jokingly says. "Maybe the Potter luck will strike again."
Harry just gives her the stink eye. Ginny raises an eyebrow at him. "What? You're a very pretty boy. Why do you think Draco or Theo were head over heels for you? Your intelligence?"
"Hey! My IQ is quite alright, thank you very much," Harry exclaims, a frown on his face.
"But it wasn't exactly your charm, like our Hermione here," Ron adds as he plops down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn.
"Are you saying I'm not pretty, Ronald?" Hermione raises an eyebrow.
Ron pales, making Harry and Ginny burst out laughing.
"I didn't say that! I just said your brilliance is your charm," Ron quickly responds. "Don't put words in my mouth. You're pretty, 'Mione."
Ginny rolls her eyes when Hermione blushes and averts her gaze from Ron to her book. "Okay, enough with that before I vomit. Back to your pretty boy."
"Quit it, Ginny. It won't happen."
"Just try and seduce the CEO. You might turn out to be a sugar baby rather than a personal assistant! Better thing if you ask me," Ginny grins. "Just don't forget to treat me if you ever succeed!"
"Bloody hell, you and your imagination Ginevra!" Harry splutters, glaring at the youngest Weasley. "A sugar baby? Seriously, Ginny?"
"What? It's a real thing. If I don't have my own handsome and rich boyfriend, I'd find a sugar daddy who would spoil me. There are some people who have too much money that they don't know what to do with, so they spend it on other things, you know? Though most of them ask for something in return, which I honestly don't oppose at all as long as they're hot. Never mind the age gap."
"Ginny!" Ron shrieks in disgust. "Stop that talk! Bloody hell, I don't want to hear my baby sister talking about sex in front of me!"
"I'm not a baby anymore, Ron!" Ginny retorts with a frown.
"Still, you're my younger sister! It's so weird to hear you talk so casually about it!"
Hermione and Harry just shares an exasperated look at the siblings' bickering.
Once they cool down, Ginny returns her attention back to Harry.
"On a serious note, go for it, Harry," she says. "After all, what could be worse than getting fired or quitting after just a day of employment?"
×××
"Number 69!"
Harry immediately sits properly. He's number seventy. After two hours of waiting, he will finally see if he can pay his rent and other necessities for this month, or start packing his things and finding another place to stay.
He looks at the other applicants. Most of them are women. Some wore formal attire, but most wore a revealing dress. They're probably on a mission to seduce the CEO, which annoyed Harry to no end.
While he wants the job for its salary and benefits that will help him in his living costs, there are the other people who seemed quite privileged in life, lining up for the job not because they need it, but because they want the CEO.
And if they're lucky, they can get the work while those who actually need it would try to look for another job.
Such an unfair world he lives in.
"Number 70!"
Harry takes a deep breath before following the woman. The previous applicant is striding out with heavy steps and a massive frown on her beautiful face. It makes him feel even more nervous, seeing the 69th applicant get rejected.
They stop in front of a door with the CEO's nameplate on it. Just reading the name sends a chill to his whole body.
"Wait here," the woman instructs him, to which Harry nods in response. She knocked three times before entering.
"CEO Riddle, here's the seven—"
"Let's conclude for today. I am exhausted by the persistent flirtation from individuals within my own company. My schedule is far too occupied to spend additional hours listening to countless applicants prattle on with frivolous and flirtatious remarks."
Harry clenches his fists. Just his own damn bad luck, getting cut off right in front of his face! Damn rotten luck, and damn those people for ruining his chance!
"Noted, sir," the woman says, making Hardy's shoulder sag in defeat, only to perk up again when the woman adds; "but I already brought along the seventieth applicant. Can you consider him the last applicant before we cut off today's interview session?"
There was a moment of nerve-wracking silence that had Harry squirming in his place, anticipating the CEO's reply like a prisoner waiting for a judge's verdict. It's more like that to Harry now that he's counting to pay for his rent in this job.
And after what felt like an eternity, the CEO finally spoke.
"Fine. But make sure that's the last. I've got more important things to do."
"Yes, CEO Riddle. I'll have it delivered to the remaining applicants," the woman says, then he turns to Harry and motions him to enter. He silently thanked the woman before entering. The woman shuts the door behind him, leaving him alone with the CEO.
He looks around inside the office with his mouth slightly parted. On one side of the room, a series of bookshelves lined with leather-bound books and meticulously framed awards. A mahogany cabinet stood nearby, housing a collection of fine spirits and crystal glassware that Harry knows cost more than his yearly expenses. The walls featured paintings that spoke of wealth and refinement without being ostentatious, and the room carried a faint scent of wood and cologne.
He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Harry curses inwardly for getting distracted and looking like a fool seeing something expensive for the first time. He stands straight and turns to face the CEO, whose dark eyes are already trained on him. The intensity of his stare that was directed to Harry unnerves him. If he had less courage, his knees would've given up right now. The CEO, Tom Riddle, exudes too much power and charisma, and his impeccable looks and commanding presence in addition to his intense eyes and calculating gaze can just make someone melt on their spot.
"Uh... good afternoon?" Harry awkwardly greets, mentally berating himself for that stupidity.
He could almost hear Hermione doing it. Oh, honestly, Harry. Can you be more awkward than that? That's a well-known CEO you're having an interview with!
Much to his relief, the CEO didn't seem to care about his awkward greeting. Although he noticed how the side of his mouth twitched a bit, amusement flickers in his eyes for a brief moment before it all returns to his impassive expression. But his eyes remain intent on Harry.
"Have a seat, Mr...?"
"Potter. Harry Potter," Harry quickly answers, having regained his courage and confidence. He then takes a seat on the chair in front of the CEO's desk. He sat straight, making sure to look confident in front of the CEO who was staring at his every move.
It's only his stubborn pride that prevents him from shaking in nervousness.
"Mr. Potter..." Riddle drawls, almost a purr. His velvety voice sends goosebumps on Harry's skin. The way he spoke of Harry's name sounds so... sultry. "How old are you?"
"I'm twenty-two years-old sir, turning twenty-three at the end of July."
"Still studying?"
Harry nodded. "I'm in my last year at university."
"Course?"
"I major in Creative Writing."
"A scholar?"
"Uh... no?"
"You're not sure?" Riddle asks, arching one of his perfect eyebrows.
Harry feels his cheeks burning in embarrassment. "No, I'm not a scholar."
Riddle hums. "Any other job you have? I require a personal assistant who's fully committed to me."
Harry already feels like he will not be accepted for this job.
"I have a... part-time job in a small bookstore near my university," Harry answers.
"Are you in dire need of money that you're willing to handle two jobs?"
Harry looks away as he bites his lips, missing the hungry glint in Riddle's eyes as he follows the movement.
"I am," he responds in a small voice.
"University and rent fees, I presume?"
Harry nods. "And other living necessities."
Riddle hums, but didn't say anything else. It makes Harry lift his head to look at the CEO. The lack of professional questioning confuses Harry, since it's what Hermione told him to expect from such a prestigious company. Hermione even drilled a series of questions to him in which Harry had no choice but to answer, just so he can pacify his nervous and anxious best friend that he can handle an interview.
"CEO Riddle, sir...?" Harry calls nervously. "Am I rejected?"
Riddle tilts his head and shoots him a questioning look. "Why would you think you're rejected?"
"Well, you just said that the job requires a full commitment of the applicant's time. And I just told you I'm a struggling college student, which means I can't fully commit my time to you."
"And yet you still tried to apply for the job?"
Harry swallows nervously. "I thought there was no harm in trying..."
"Indeed," Riddle drawls again. Then he leans forward, a glint in his eyes that Harry couldn't decipher. "Tell me, Mr. Potter. Are you willing to negotiate for this job?"
Harry's eyes widened a bit, "A negotiation?"
"You leave that part-time job you have and commit all the time you can give to this job."
All the time I can give? Does that mean what I think it is?
"Yes, Mr. Potter. I'm willing to negotiate with your class schedule so it wouldn't coincide with your work here as my personal assistant," Riddle smirks, as if he knows exactly what Harry is thinking. "That is, if you agree with my terms and conditions."
"Are you kidding me? Of course I agree!" Harry exclaims, and immediately regrets it as he realizes he's talking to his soon-to-be employer, his boss. He blushes, then clears his throat in embarrassment. "I mean, I agree with it, sir."
Riddle didn't seem offended by his enthusiastic response. If Harry's not mistaken, he even looked amused as he continued staring intently at Harry.
He raised an eyebrow. "You agree with it?"
Harry nods.
"Without hearing the conditions first?"
Harry halts for a moment, but then he nods again. Riddle smirks.
"If you say so," Riddle says, then he takes out a paper from one of his neatly arranged folders. He reads it for a brief moment before passing it to Harry. "Sign here. The other one is your copy."
Harry takes it and signs his name on it without even bothering to read all of its contents. Later, he'd realize how big of a mistake it is and Hermione wouldn't let him hear the end of it.
"Alright, Mr. Potter, or should I call you Harry?"
Harry places down the pen and meets Riddle's eyes, that looks far too pleased which makes Harry's stomach churn. "You can call me Harry, sir."
"Alright, Harry. Do you have any other commitments for today?"
"No, sir. I only have classes from Monday to Thursday," Harry responds. "But I still haven't resigned from my part-time job. Maybe I should do it—"
"Consider it done, Harry."
Harry's brow furrowed in confusion, "Sir?"
"You don't have to worry about it. I'll have my secretary do it."
"But—"
"For now, you will return to your place, pack your things, and go with my personal driver. He knows where to bring you."
"Pack my things? Why would I pack my things?"
The smirk in Riddle's face makes Harry rethink his life decisions. It's far too smug for his liking, as if the CEO just won something worthy of the world.
"Because you'll live with me from now on."
×××
"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking! The offer is far too good for me to even think of refusing it!"
"And now look at what's about to happen to you because you didn't hear his conditions first before agreeing to an offer as good as that! Honestly, Harry Potter, you have no sense of survival at all!"
"How the hell am I supposed to know that's his condition? And excuse me, I have a great instinct when it comes to survival. Far better than anyone you'll ever know."
"Yes, because you just signed a contract with a well-known man without even bothering to read the content!"
"In my defense, I was too excited to read it. And you've said it yourself, he's a well-known man. Surely, he wouldn't do something so vile that would ruin his reputation?"
"Harry, he's a wealthy and handsome man. A flick of his money and a few flowery words, he can hide all the vile things he did so it wouldn't reach the public's knowledge. He can kill you right now and still return to his work without so much as worrying that anyone will find out and pin the blame on him."
"Well, thanks for your outstanding support, I guess. That kind of relieved me from my worries," Harry mutters dryly.
"I won't apologize because it's your stupidity that leads you in your current predicament," Hermione sternly says. "I can't believe Ginny had predicted it."
"I didn't seduce him!" Harry exclaims, mildly indignant.
"I know, Harry. But Ginny and Ron told you your pretty face is your charm, and it must've worked on the CEO."
"I doubt it's like that. A lot of the previous applicants are way too gorgeous for him to even notice me."
"But he did, didn't he? He wants you to move in his place. He wants you to quit your part-time job so you can work for him in your free time. He paid for your tuition in exchange for it. And then he wants you to work for him after you graduate." Hermione says.
"It's impossible, Hermione," Harry says. "But I think I know why. You know how all the other applicants were trying to seduce him instead of applying for the job? Maybe he sees that I genuinely need the job. You know, he took pity on me. Didn't Ginny say there's rich people like that? Those who have too much money in their disposal that they didn't know what else to do with it, and so they'd spend it on someone else. Maybe Riddle is impressed with me who's willing to take multiple jobs even while studying?"
There was a moment of silence. It stretches for a minute that Harry glances at his outdated phone to see if the line has ended, but he sees it's still on-going.
"'Mione? You still there?"
"Yeah, still here. I just... didn't know what to say. Honestly, Harry. You can be pretty stupid sometimes, you know?"
"Hey, stop insulting my mind. I'm just stating one of the probability, and the most likely one to be true."
"See, that's just your nai—"
"Mr. Potter?"
The phone almost fell on Harry's hand out of surprise when he heard Riddle's personal driver knocked on his door. He almost forgot the man. He was so engrossed in his conversation with Hermione.
"I-I'm coming, Mr. Lestrange! Just give me another minute," Harry yells out. He quickly bids goodbye to Hermione then he chucks his phone back inside his pocket. He surveys his flat one last time to check if he forgot something and once he's done, he leaves the place with a heavy sigh.
"I'll take that, Mr. Potter. Follow me," Lestrange takes his things from him, which is not much, then he strides away. Harry follows behind, almost running just to keep up with the man's fast pace.
How he abhors tall guys with long legs.
"Mr. Lestrange?" Harry calls out hesitantly once he's inside the car.
"You may call me Rabastan, Mr. Potter."
"Only if you call me Harry."
Rabastan glances at him from the mirror and Harry flashes him a smile which the driver didn't return, but Harry already realizes that he doesn't actually show much of his emotions so he didn't take offense to it.
It was a twenty minute ride. They entered a subdivision that Harry is very familiar with since it's a really popular and expensive one, only the richest people live there. Then they stop in front of a humongous gate, a guard opening it for them. There was quite a distance before the car finally stopped in front of what Harry assumed was Riddle's mansion.
On their way inside, Harry refuses to have all his things carried by Rabastan. He took the smaller ones and let the older guy handle the larger and heavier things.
Harry looks at the place and feels anxious about even stepping on the floor. It was so neat and clean that he thinks he can see his reflection on it, and that one wrong step would lead to a crack. But upon seeing Rabastan walking carelessly, he has no choice but to follow through. He didn't want to look stupid just standing at the entrance.
Rabastan leads him upstairs, on the left wing of the house. He put down Harry's things carefully on the floor before turning around to look at Harry.
"This is your room from now on, as per Mr. Riddle's order. There's an intercom near the door that you can use if you want something, and one of the maids will follow through with it."
Harry definitely won't use it, but he didn't bother voicing it out.
"You can freely roam around the place, familiarize yourself with it because you'll be staying here for as long as Mr. Riddle wants you," Rabastan continues. "And for your classes, I will drive you to your univ—"
"What? No!" Harry immediately refuses.
Rabastan raises an eyebrow, "Why not?"
"Because... because I don't want to! That's too much," Harry says, blushing. "I'm just Riddle's personal assistant. It's already too much that I live here in my employer's house, but to even use his car and have his personal driver drive me around? No."
"Well, you really have no choice. If you haven't noticed, Mr. Riddle lives in a subdivision. In the farthest part to be specific. There's no public transportation around here as well. The only option you have is to let me drive you out of the subdivision and to your campus, or just walk outside until you find a bus or cab. Your choice."
Harry bites his lips in frustration, knowing Rabastan was telling the truth. He noticed it as well, but didn't put too much thought into it.
"... fine," Harry sighs in resignation.
"Good," Rabastan blankly says. "And speaking of Mr. Riddle, he told me he might go home late. You will eat dinner alone for tonight. Just ask the maids in the kitchen for anything you want, they'll serve it to you."
Harry grimaces, but doesn't say anything.
"Anything else?"
"No. I'm fine. I'll just... unpack for now," Harry responds. "Thank you, Rabastan."
Rabastan didn't say anything. He just nodded his head before leaving Harry alone in his new room.
It takes almost five minutes before Harry pulls himself out of his staring contest with the door and proceeds to unpack his things.
An hour later, Harry lays down on his bed and stares at the chandelier in his room. Now that he's alone and has nothing to do, everything that happened to him in just a span of five hours comes crashing down. Suddenly, he feels overwhelmed.
Did I make the right decision of signing with Riddle?
Because this isn't what Harry imagined when he decided to apply for the job. He didn't expect to suddenly move out of his previous flat and move into his employer's outrageously huge and expensive mansion, resigned from his part-time job, and had his remaining tuition fees paid fully by his employer.
He vehemently refuses to have his tuition paid by Riddle since he can pay it using his first salary, but Riddle had told him it's one of his terms and conditions— the one that Harry unthinkingly agreed without hearing for it first. Now, he's terribly regretting it.
Just the other day, he had a breakdown over what to do to pay for his rent and other necessities. Now, everything he needs to pay for isn't a problem anymore since his boss has already paid for it, even though he still hasn't started on his job.
He even lives in a mansion he only dreamt of as a child, for free. Free foods, free electricity, free internet, free water. Everything is free here.
It just feels... so wrong. Like he just signed up on something he will definitely regret later on.
His gaze went to his phone when it suddenly lit up. Harry frowns as he sees a message coming from an unknown number.
Did you settle already?
Confused, Harry replies: who's this?
And almost immediately, the reply came. Your boss.
Harry's eyes widened.
Harry:
Oh. Sorry, sir.
CEO Riddle:
No problem, Harry. But you didn't answer my question.
Harry:
What?
Ah. Yeah, I've settled in already. Rabastan helped me.
Thank you, by the way. For the job, rent, and my tuition fee.
CEO Riddle:
You are more than welcome, Harry. Education is very important. I have money to help, and you seemed like an ambitious guy. It would be a shame not to help you.
Harry:
You shouldn't really have bothered with my rent and tuition fee since I can use my salary to pay that, but thank you, sir. Like, a lot.
Although Harry really feels like he's missed something during their contract signing, which leaves him more confused than anything else.
CEO Riddle:
Again, you are more than welcome.
Have you eaten?
Harry:
No. I'm not yet hungry.
CEO Riddle:
What are you doing then?
Harry:
I'm just lying down on my bed.
CEO Riddle:
Can I see?
Harry frowned at that, confused. See what? Him? Lying down?
Although he's still confused, he took a picture of himself lying down on the bed. He hesitates to send it upon seeing his state in the image. His unruly hair scattered around the pillow where his head is resting, his large, green eyes behind his thin, gold spectacles staring directly at the camera, not knowing where else to look as he took that picture, and his lips slightly parted, unsure if he should smile or not. In the end, he sent it, not wanting to make the CEO wait for his response. The only consolation he had is that the picture's quality is not quite good, seeing that his phone is quite old and the camera's quality isn't on par with the latest ones.
Harry:
Sir?
CEO Riddle?
But ten minutes had already passed and still no reply from the CEO. Harry feels nervous, thinking he made a mistake. He quickly deletes the image, hoping to every saint out there that his boss hasn't seen his message yet.
To occupy his already chaotic mind, he leaves his room and goes down. Maybe if he eats something, his mind would settle down from all its worries.
But just as he was passing on the living room, the door slams open and reveals a disheveled Tom Riddle. His tie was loosened, sleeves folded halfway his arms, and his hair in disarray. His dark eyes trained on Harry, pupils dilated as he took large strides towards Harry's direction.
"S-sir? I thought you'll be lat—" Harry didn't finish whatever he's supposed to say when Riddle grabs his arms and without warning, smashes their lips together. One of his arms held his head, the other wrapped on Harry's waist.
Harry freezes, completely taken aback by the greeting he received from his new employer— his new and extremely hot and insanely attractive employer.
Riddle kisses him fiercely, mouth moving on Harry with urgency, as if Harry would disappear any moment. Harry's hand moves up to his chest, attempting to push Riddle away. The attempt was futile, for it didn't have any ounce of strength in it and Riddle is far stronger than he is. His hand was easily captured by Riddle's larger and firmer ones, trapped on the wall he didn't notice he was already leaning at. So when Riddle's tongue demanded entry, Harry didn't let him.
The hand on his waist slides down to his arse, squeezing it twice which elicits a surprise gasp from Harry. Riddle takes advantage of it and lets his tongue explore Harry's mouth, tasting every inch of it like a starving man.
Harry's resolve crumbles, melting into the kiss. He moaned in Riddle's mouth when his large hands grabbed a fistful of his unruly hair and tilted his head upwards for better access. His knees almost lose their strength from his boss' intensity, devouring his mouth as if it's his last supper.
The intensity of the kiss leaves them both breathless. Harry pulls away to catch his breath, but Riddle doesn't let him move far. Their foreheads are touching, both panting from the kiss.
When Harry regained his composure, although still panting, he looks up at his boss: green eyes questioning and confused. "What... what was that for?"
Riddle chuckles. His velvety voice sends chills down Harry's spine. Instead of responding, Riddle kisses him again on the lips. And then kisses him again and again and again, as if he couldn't get enough of Harry's lips.
Not that Harry's not enjoying it— he does, or he won't let his boss do it again and again even if he's smoking hot and is exactly Harry's type— but he's really confused about what warrants him the best snog he's ever got from the most attractive bloke he’s known. So he puts Riddle in arms length then covers his swollen lips to stop his boss from devouring it again.
"Well...?" Harry trails off. "Is that your way of greeting...?"
"Harry," Riddle mutters, his eyes— his captivating dark brown eyes, roams all over Harry's face. "Do you have any idea what that photo did to me?"
What photo— oh. Oh.
Harry feels himself blushing so hard even his ears turn red as he remembers the picture he sent to Riddle. So Riddle finds it attractive? Which is why he suddenly kissed Harry? Is that why he went home early? Because he wanted to kiss Harry?
"I was in the middle of a meeting with a bunch of idiots when you send that photo. When I asked if I could see you lying down on your bed, I did not expect you would really let me see you in that state," Riddle's eyes flashed darkly, a small smile on his lips. "I had to cut the meeting short and cancel the rest of what I have to do for the night so I could go home and see you. I didn't know the image of you standing inside my house would stir something inside me, especially remembering how you look in the photo."
Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't even know what he was thinking, letting his boss kiss the hell out of him. The day has been confusing and overwhelming as it is, having his employer kiss him just added to it.
So Harry did what he always does when he's in the middle of something he didn't know what to do.
He runs.