Write a Tomarry thing centered around the dinosaur in a dress PLEASE
I fucking love you guys so much you have no idea.
I hope a modern, non-magic au is okay because there’s only so much ridiculousness I can shoe-horn into this.
“Well, what do you
Tom’s eyes flicked
upwards from the canvas, meeting brilliant emerald green and quirking
lips that fought against widening into a grin. His neighbor, Harry
Potter, held the painting in his hands, eyes gleaming with mirth from
behind wire-rimmed glasses that slipped down the bridge of his nose.
Tom rose a brow, pursing
his lips. He meant to say that it was good- even if it was an
absolute lie, the thing was horrid- but when he opened his mouth the
only word that came out was, “Why?”
Harry struggled to
maintain a straight face, lips trembling now with the sheer force it
took for him to clamp tight over the bubble of laughter. “It came
to me in a dream,” he managed to say in a leveled tone.
‘A dream you had while
dying of pneumonia?’ Tom
thought, bringing a hand to his chin and cupping his thumb underneath
it as the knuckle of his index finger pressed into his mouth. Surely,
the delirium of fever mixed with the nebulous presence of death
served as the inspiration. Or some rather intense medications. “It’s
certainly unique,” was the only criticism he offered of Potter’s
therapist suggested painting, and I think she may have unknowingly
unleashed the next Rembrandt on the world,” Potter said with mock
had known the younger man fairly well for him having only recently
moved into the flat beside him, intriguing in and of itself since the
old and charming building was typically too expensive for someone so
young. But he had soon learned that he had inherited a sizable amount
of wealth from his parents upon his eighteenth birthday, and had been
drawn to the flat by the its superb location within the city and to
his university. He was quite sociable, and never hesitated to chat
with Tom when he saw the older man in the corridor, no matter how
stoic or sour his expression.
yet, despite his amicable nature, it still seemed odd that he would
visit Tom to gift him a painting of a velociraptor in
Victorian garb. What sort of
impression had Tom given off that made Harry think this was something
he might enjoy?
took advantage of Tom’s silence, brushing past him and stepping
further into the immaculate flat, chewing his lip as he looked around
him, the painting held to his chest. He hummed in thought before his
eyes widened, and he strode over to the fireplace, settling the
canvas atop the mantle. “You should hang it here. In can be your-
what do they call it? A focal point?” he asked, unable to contain
himself further as a wide grin split over his face.
pinched his lips into a thin line. The painting looked absolutely
absurd among the cool grays and minimal décor of his sitting room.
He had exactly one painting on the walls- a somewhat prized
collection he had purchased from a gallery opening- that hung above
the clean and simple silhouette of a black leather sofa. And even
that painting maintained the monochromatic and minimal theme he was
drawn to, with the brightest color on the stretched and starched
canvas being navy.
thing was garish- with
forest green scales wrapped within a flowing pink gown, the bodice
embroidered with multiple colored daises. Ringlets of blonde curls
cascading from the head of a dinosaur
as its jaw was practically unhinged in a roar.
be damned if that thing ever saw the light of day.
I should get going then. Enjoy your friend- her name’s Patricia, by
the way,” Harry said, practically skipping as he left, closing the
door behind him.
sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he made his way to the mantle
and removed the painting, looking at it with derision. Technically,
it was well done, he begrudgingly admitted. But it was a dinosaur.
Dressed like it had waltzed off
the screen of a second-rate Disney movie. He would be out of his mind
if he left it sitting there any longer.
tossed it into a closet, deciding to get rid of it properly later.
opened the door on the second knock, causing Harry to startle from
the opposite side of it, his hand raised and poised to rap against
the wood. “Oh…hello!” he said, rather cheerily as he smiled.
“Sorry to bother you-”
doubt you really are,” Tom interrupted, gesturing with a wave of
his hand to the table behind him, a bag of take out placed upon it.
continued speaking as if he hadn’t heard him. “I thought I heard
you out in the halls, and I was wondering if you wanted to come over.
My roommate and I have some friends and family over for a game night
and I we wondering if you wanted to join us?” he asked.
leaned against the frame of his door, crossing his arms over his
chest as his lips twisted into a crooked smirk. “We?” he asked,
knowing it was an embellishment. His roommate- Ron or Rob or
something of the sort, he couldn’t really be bothered to remember it-
hated him. ‘The blokes a bit funny is all,’
he overheard him say when he didn’t hear Tom leave his flat,
approaching behind him.
course, he was hardly perturbed by the redhead’s aversion to him. He
was never keen on company or making nice with the neighbors, as it
shrugged, running a hand through his untidy hair. “Don’t mind Ron.
He’s a bit of a prat when he wants to be, but he’s been my best mate
for as long as I can remember. His little sister has a thing for you
is all, and he’s a bit protective,” he said, looking away
sheepishly to glance at the apartment behind Tom.
he said abruptly, frowning as he turned his gaze back to the man in
front of him. “What did you do to my painting?”
hesitated for only a second before saying, “I was robbed.”
was an obvious lie, and he really didn’t even intend to come up with
a more believable one. It was a terrible painting, and there was
absolutely no shame in him confessing to never wanting to display it.
brows rose, disappearing into the ebony locks that fell to brush
along the curve of his spectacles. “Is that so?” he asked, his
voice heavy with skepticism.
was the only thing they took, actually. They were burglars of very
particular taste,” he quipped.
laughed, a lopsided smile brightening his face. “Well, perhaps they
saw the value in it. Certainly worth more than all the other junk
you’ve got in here,” he teased, leaning forward to look pointedly
around the flat.
scowled, unfolding his arms to grab hold of the doorknob. “Enjoy
your night, Harry. And do tell Ron’s sister I said hello,” he said.
The last thing he saw when he closed the door was the smile fall from
Harry’s face, looking somewhat crestfallen as the light in his eyes
was terribly easy to read, like one of the many, many books lining
the shelves that flanked the fireplace. A curious story, however, and
Tom could hardly stop the slight smile, the chuckle that vibrated
within his throat. He didn’t really care for company or his
neighbors, but there was something incredibly delectable about making
Harry squirm in discomfort.
slammed his door, huffing in annoyance as he shrugged his jackets
onto his arms. He should have known he wouldn’t have a peaceful
night. All he wanted was to spend a quiet night in, reading some of
the new case studies and research papers he had gotten his hands on
with a glass of brandy, but it was simply too much to ask. He was
really beginning to grow irate with the familiar tone of a call
coming from work- something of a surprise considering his colleagues
tended to refer to him as a 'workaholic’.
he supposed anyone would be considered a workaholic to that lot,
preferring to hover within the realm of mediocrity instead of
actually using those brains of theirs for something more productive
than gossip. It was hardly a crime to be ambitious, to crave
knowledge and authority and influence within a desire field.
was interrupted by his thoughts as a door opened behind him, a voice
calling out after him. “Hey! Tom!” He came to a halt, sighing in
impatience as he turned to face Harry, his head poking out from the
door to his own flat.
hair was even more disheveled than usual- an impossible feat, really-
and his chin and jaw were coated in short, black stubble. It made him
look a bit older, and a bit handsomer if he were being honest. In a
rugged sort of way, not at all like Tom’s own polished and well-kept
Harry?” he drawled, lips slipping into a smirk as Harry’s jaw
clenched at the sibilant lull of his voice.
are you headed this late at night?” he asked, swallowing thickly as
he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
regarded him for a moment. “If you must know, to work. Emergencies
hardly wait for appropriate office hours,” he said with a
dismissive wave of his hand.
made to turn around again, his head twisted away when Harry stopped
him. “Oh good, you can bring it to your office then!”
sighed, closing his eyes in reprieve as he took a deep breath. He
really considered just walking away, leaving the younger man behind
without even a farewell. After all, there were far more important
matters to attend to. Namely, an A&E overfilled with victims of a
mass shooting. But he found himself turning back to face Harry, brows
knitted. “Bring what to my office?”
ducked back into his apartment for only a second, returning to the
corridor with a canvas clutched in his hands. “I made you a new
painting! And I thought that perhaps it would be safer in your office
at work,” he said, taking several steps until he stood directly
before Tom, gripping either side of the painting as he held it in
front of his chest.
practically gasped at the horrendous things, dark blue eyes widening
as he skewed his lips in unmasked disgust. Three velociraptors sat
around a table, tufts of hair below bonnets. An elaborate spread
adorned the table, flowers within a glass vase in the center as trays
of biscuits and scones and a large, floral tea pot sat around it.
Long claws emerged from lacy and billowy sleeves as they wrapped
around delicate tea cups.
was grinning in almost manic delight, shoulders shaking with just
barely disguised laughter. “Well, do you like it, Tom?” he asked.
pursed his lips, jaw clenching in annoyance. “Actually, if I’m
being perfectly honest, Harry, it’s absolute rubbish,” he said,
speaking in a voice that was colder than ice, as if his words were
venom. The sudden and unexpected malice within them was enough to
make the joy slip from Harry, his mouth falling into a frown as green
Harry said, reeling from the cruelness.
only thing that you are worse at than painting- and by a large
margin, though that is in no way a compliment to your artistic
abilities,” he began, actually struggling to keep the smile from
his face as Harry continued to sulk, shoulders slumping. “Is
snapped forward at that, cheeks burning into a bright crimson as he
stammered. “I am not flirting!” he lied, eyes darting to the left
for a brief second.
chuckled at the obvious tell, taking a step forward so that he loomed
over the shorter man. “Oh, but I believe you are, and between you
and me, your hands are better left for more…arousing
activities than arts and crafts,” he purred, mouth pulling into a
smirk as Harry’s eyes widened at the insinuation, his jaw slacking
another word, Tom turned, striding down the corridor as his neighbor
gaped unattractively in his wake.
I want to abandon all my stories and just write this. I want to write a sequel, and a sequel to the sequel, and just never stop writing about the gloriousness of Harry painting awful dinosaur portraits in a terrible attempt to flirt and Tom tearing him down with his suaveness.
Also, I always headcanon Tom as a surgeon in non-magic AU’s (it’s a field that requires a lot of study and determination, can be very rewarding in terms of professional achievements and recognition, and I imagine holding someone’s life in his hand satisfies his God Complex)
Also also, I’m sorry if you’ve sent me a prompt and I haven’t gotten to it yet. I promise I will, but sometimes it takes a bit for the prompt to speak to me, and this one sang at me like a soul singer pouring her heart out.