humiliated - harry potter
wolfstar!daughter au summary: when harry gets overstimulated from the feeling of the shirt clinging onto his skin whilst he's helping his dad with chores outside, he forgets a very crucial detail before deciding to take it off. wc: 1k cw: suggestive themes
The sun was searing hot, Harry’s skin going slick with sweat as he helped his dad set up the dinner table outside. He didn’t want to complain about the mundane chore, but it was only midday, and dinner was in many, many hours from now. So Harry didn’t understand why they had to do this when the sun was at its strongest.
“This chair is broken. Could you replace it with another one from the shed please Harry?” Harry nodded at his dad’s request, reaching to take the wooden chair from him. Harry huffed, forearms flexing as he folded the chair back up, before making his way into the shed. Reaching for the nearest chair, Harry made sure it wasn’t damaged before joining James again.
Harry put his hands on his hips, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back to take a short break. In the distance, he heard his dad asking something of him, but Harry was running too hot to understand what he was saying, shirt clinging to his skin uncomfortably.
“Sorry, hold on.” Harry mumbled, tone probably more snappy than he intended. James’s eyebrows shot up at his son’s tone, but his face quickly contorted into one of understanding when Harry pulled his t-shirt off. If it were appropriate, Harry would have stripped out of his jeans too. “Right, what did you say?” Harry asked, wiping the sweat off his skin using his discarded garment.
“Do you think we should move the table closer to the lake? Or keep it near the house?”
“It might be nice near the lake. Since most of the Weasleys have never been here before.” James nodded at Harry’s words, patting his pockets to feel around for his wand. Missing. “Well, help me carry the tables over there.”
Harry instantly regretted his decision, but he obeyed anyway, turning around to walk over to the other end of the wooden table.
A loud laugh had him spinning around again to meet his dad’s eyes. James’s face was both amused and shocked, his mouth contorted into a wide smile. “What?”
“Jesus, Harry. You’d think you were attacked by a mountain lion.”
“What are you on about?”
“I’m on about the state of your back.” Harry’s face instantly went red, and he brought a hand to the back of his neck as he chuckled nervously. “I forgot about that.”
James laughed loudly, jerking his chin towards the table. The smile didn’t leave his face as he and Harry carried down the table closer to the lake. Harry avoided his dad’s eyes the entire time, hoping he wouldn’t tell your parents anything. Your parents, a.k.a, his dad's best friends. After all, it was only last night that you’d given Harry these angry scratches on his back. He didn’t know if your nails were extra long or if he’s just been rougher on you than usual, but he felt the pain across his skin the second he woke up, and now, as sweat seeped over the broken skin.
It took a few minutes of painful silence for Harry and James to transport all the outdoor furniture to their designated place. James clasped a hand on Harry’s sweaty shoulder when they were done, and Harry winced in pain at the sharp sting on the fresh marks, but didn’t dare to say a word as they returned indoors.
The two men entered the house just in time for Lily to walk into the living room. “I was just coming to check up on you guys. Are you done?”
Lily didn’t receive an answer to her question, her husband immediately changing the topic of conversation. “Lily Potter, take a look at your son’s back.” “Dad.” Lily furrowed her eyebrows, walking closer to Harry. She put a hand on her son’s shoulder, encouraging him to turn around slightly. She gasped loudly.
“You better get dressed before Sirius and Remus come to help if you want to keep your life, Harry.” Harry’s face went impossibly darker at the comment, and he miserably hid his back from his mum. “I know, I know. I was planning on getting ready now.”
Harry’s face morphed into one of panic as another voice entered the room, calling out from the kitchen. He didn’t know you were already here. “Alright, everything’s in the oven. I was thinking of getting started on chopping the vegetables for the salad while you get-oh, hey!”
“Hi.” Harry’s voice shook as he greeted you. You cleared your throat, licking your lips as your eyes shot between him and his dad, who was smiling a little too widely for your liking. You took in Harry’s appearance, noting the way his cheeks were rosy – beyond the heat – and how his eyes seemed to flit away from yours every couple of seconds.
“You look humiliated.” You told him, eyebrows raising slowly. “Oh, she doesn’t know. You don’t know.” James was elated, breaking into another fit of laughter. “Oh, Harry, show her.” Harry sighed deeply, only following his dad’s plea due to the look of confusion on your face.
“Oh my god, Harry! I’m so, oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Harry smiled softly at your words, watching as you sped towards him, arms extended, but not touching him. Oh, you looked so guilty. Harry cupped your face in his hands, shaking his head at you. “It’s okay, I, it’s okay.” I like it, he tried telling you with his eyes. You huffed, shrugging your shoulders as you whispered “It’s never been this bad.”
Harry grinned now, completely forgetting his parents were in the room. He dipped his face down, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.”
“We have arrived!” Harry’s head shot up, eyes widening in panic, and he immediately took off, sprinting in the direction of the stairs. The door to his room slammed shut, and only a second later, your dads entered the living room, carrying grocery bags in each hand.
“What was that about?” Asked Remus, turning his head in the direction that Harry had disappeared in. You shrugged, shaking your head. “No idea.”
“Alright… Lily, do you need any help in the kitchen.” From behind Remus, Sirius’s eyes went wide and he shook his head. “Oh no, Rem. You’re not stepping foot in that kitchen. Go help James with the big boy chores.”
