Zim sneered at the human-flesh bugs, his skin crawling with the unpleasant way they rubbed all along his body without a care. Thankfully, Zim's backpack kept him from loosing his control and slipping back into Irken green when his mental processors wanted to short out. He flinched harshly when a woman near groped him and scuttled far away as fast as he could. A soft small hand caught him and pulled him into a store front, his contact blue eyes raking over his . . . savior.
Zim stopped the sneer, his lip not quite curling but the small fleshy human—it might have been male, but he wasn't sure—saw it and cringed away as if waiting for a blow. "I'm sorry," the British accented boy—that voice could not belong to a female—said with a soft sadness. "I was just trying to help you out. I sorta understand since that kind of stuff generally happens to me too often to count."
Zim blinked. "What?"
The boy blinked back. "The groping. I hate when it happens to me, but if you're fine with it . . ." He finally looked up and Zim had to stop his gasp. His eyes. Eyes so green that the color of the Earthen grass and Irken skin paled in comparison. Zim had never seen such a color on any human that wasn't a book or cartoon character.
"N-no, no. I detest being mauled without my permission." Zim stepped back out of the human boy's personal area and looked around. "But I am . . . somewhat lost. I am looking for clothes but these shops," he sneered at the very thought of buying clothing from these pushy vendors, clothes that were too restricting and claustrophobic. "Let us say that they are inadequate for my needs."
The boy grinned. "Well, then, maybe I can help you. I'm Harry."
Zim returned the gesture a little more stiffly. "Zim."
Harry grinned wider and pushed his hideous black framed glasses back up on his nose. "So . . . what kind of clothing are you looking for. From the looks of it, you would be better off finding one of the specialty shops for teen rebellions and anarchy."
Zim's face split in half with his "evil" grin. "I like the sound of that. But . . . It's nothing restrictive, is it?" he asked with a frown. He hated closed up tops and shirts. Only cotton and mild forms of synthetic fabrics didn't burn his skin . . . though silk was really nice. Just impractical.
Harry grinned lopsidedly, his hair falling in a short tangle revealing a small scar in a peculiar shape. "As long as the fabrics are natural, I may be able to wear it." Zim had long since given up keeping things like this secret. As it turns out, the more humans that knew his inability to wear synthesized clothing due to a severe and unusual "allergy", the more he was able to get from them. Harry nodded, his eyes unfocused as he thought silently. He opened his mouth to say something when a largely obese male came up behind him.
"Harry, get outta here, man. Mum is having kittens and Dad is super pissed. I don't know what set them off, but I'll tell them something," the teen said in a rush. Harry looked up – and up and up – to the taller male.
"Thanks, Dudley. How's the necklace holding up? And the earrings we gave Aunt Petunia?" Dudley tugged on the thin cord around his neck that, until seconds ago, had not been visible. If Zim had been a human he would have thought he had over-looked it. Being Irken, he had been trained to notice things out of place. The tingling accompanied by the necklace revealing itself set his perimeter alarms off.
"The necklace might need a replacement soon, and Mum never takes out the earrings . . . but I'm worried. There's an Autumn Ball at the YMCA and she's gonna insist on wearing her big gems." Harry nodded and patted Dudley on his arm.
"Alright, cousin. I'll ask Bill, Fred and George to replace the necklace and add a large shiny bracelet for Auntie to wear. I doubt Vernon could do anything, but better safe than sorry. Be careful, I'm not going to be able to buffer the sounds."
Dudley just nodded before moving on, his face slipping into a mean unintelligent look. Zim found the transformation fascinating. Harry beside him held out his hand, a soft look on his face. Not even thinking about it, Zim took the hand and felt the same tingle go up his arm, the same as when the giant boy had held his necklace into view. Only, this one was followed by another tingle that had nothing to do with whatever had bothered him before. Harry looked at him with a sharp expression that smoothed out as he tugged a slightly punch-drunk Zim along.
"You're not human, are you?" Harry murmured with a light dawning in his brilliant green eyes. "That's why you felt . . . odd. Not in a bad way, though." Zim shook his head, Harry's words making him freeze up. He tried to tug his hand back but the little black-pelted human beast wouldn't let go. The smile of understanding made Zim wonder just how knowing this child could be.
"You will not tell anyone," Zim stated in an order that had Harry scowling.
"I know that! I may look little and stupid, but I'm far from young or an idiot. I may include myself in moronic activities at times, but with a good head on my shoulders and a brilliant young witch at my side." Harry near growled at Zim making him raise one fake eyebrow. "And I do not like orders. Any kind. So don't get used to ordering me around, Zim," he snarled without too much heat.
Again he led on, Zim being tugged along like a bob on a fishing line. Zim felt mild humor run through him. Other than revulsion and spite, he hadn't had any true or good emotions messing with his ability to hide here on Earth. Now this little dirt-child had him wanting to do things . . . it was quite bizarre.
"Where are we going, Harry?"
Harry looked over his shoulder grinning. "In from America is this little shop called Hot Topic. I think you might like it, really." He stopped as a group of Asian school girls bustled through, their insipid conversations making Zim roll his eyes. What he wouldn't give to not know a language of this insipid little mud ball sometimes. Though his height was one of the good things to come out of it. Less gravity, less pull on his bones, the more he grew and the better his bones adapted to the environment. It had been an Irk sent blessing that he had been so young when sent to this world.
Harry stopped short, Zim plowing into his back and near knocking Harry over. The shorter teen was stiff with terror, the kind that an Irken or wild beast can taste in the air from their prey. Zim looked to where Harry was staring so hard to see a woman with a horse-like face baring down on them. If Zim didn't know better and hadn't seen the color of her pallid skin, he would say she was a Tragorn fem. Deciding that Harry was at the very least a decent human with a good sense to him for figuring out that Zim wasn't human, the alien endeavored to save him from the righteous fury on the woman's face.
"I have an idea, Harry," Zim whispered into his ear. Harry looked back at him, his glasses slipping further off his nose. Zim took the beastly contraption and stuffed it in his sub-pocket. "It might hurt, but I can maybe help you hide your face in any crowd."
Harry's eyes widened, his breath sharp and fast in his chest as he tried to not hyperventilate. He wasn't succeeding yet. "What? What do I do?"
Zim tugged Harry to the side of the traffic flow, running his long fingers through the hair of the human teen trembling in his arms. Just what would make this human child so afraid of such a tiny and somewhat ugly human fem? "Look at me, Harry." He looked down with his blue contacts into soft fearful eyes that held a look of trust he hadn't ever received by his own virtue. "I'm going to give you what you humans call a kiss, but it's more than that. It is a mild transfusion of my essence for yours and it will affect your body in unusual ways. I have never done this with a human, and only once with an alien being. It might hurt, it might break down your molecular structure and rebuild it, but it will change you enough that identifying you should be more difficult."
Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His eyes sought Zim's as he pressed his lips together for just a moment. "I . . . yes, do it. Change me."
Zim took a breath and then pulled Harry closer, his mouth closing over the soft one of the human. His lips moved slowly, Harry following tentatively as he tried to copy Zim. His tongue coming out to touch the seam of the lips, Harry gasped and Zim filled his mouth. The transfer would take seconds, but Zim could tell it was going to take more than a few measly seconds to distract the human fem. Mentally commanding his Pack, he sent out a few marble-like cameras that should bowl the woman over . . . or a passerby, but it would move her attention from Harry for a short while.
Harry held tightly to Zim, his mind blank with a strange numbing pleasure. This was a first, his first French kiss and the feeling of stifling arousal that made him moan into the exchange. Zim's essence filled his mouth and poured down his throat like ambrosia, Harry's body taking it in with ease. Zim was receiving some of his own essence, a little trickling in against the flood that Zim was producing. Harry's tongue slipped into Zim's mouth, the muscle getting cut on one of the sharp razor teeth and making him blink in mild curiosity. Not even Veela, werewolves, or vampires had razor teeth. Just what was Zim?
Zim felt the blood fill his mouth and he pulled back, his hand over his lips as he forced himself to swallow the unusual offering. If he was half honest with himself, he would say that he actually enjoyed the taste of the crimson fluid as the boy panted for air. If all humans tasted like that, he might have to do that more often . . . maybe. Or just with this human that he knew tasted good.
"Harry!"
The shriek of a banshee creature had Zim cringing along with his human Harry. Zim looked to see the horse woman standing there with people laying in the floor behind her, her hands on her hips as she near flared with rage and anger. Zim held Harry close, feeling the boy's body slowly changing, moving and becoming slightly softer to the touch, the hair curling around Zim's finger instead of sticking up towards the sky of its own violation. The face when Zim looked had shifted to another person's and the eyes had changed shape from a cat-like tilt to large round globes of shimmery cuteness that made even the hardened bastard of an alien – AKA Zim the Irken – want to coo.
"Harry! What are you doing, you filthy beast?" she hissed, grabbing the human teen by the arm and wrenching him around to face her. She balked when the teen she held didn't look like that freak Harry, but a tiny almost too feminine girl with just kissed lips that were bruised and red, the eyes like lanterns of emerald light in a delicate face. Even the hair, while the same color, wasn't the wild mess she knew Harry's to be, but a soft confection of curls that made the teen seem childish and doll-like. She released Harry unknowing it really was him.
"I'm sorry, dear. I thought you were my nephew."
Harry, feeling elated that this horrid cow of a woman didn't recognize him, looked up at her with the best look of a kicked-puppy he could manage. "If that is how you treat him, I can see why he wouldn't want anything to do with such a terrible woman such as you." Even his voice was different, husky and soft instead of cracking and strained. It was as he continued, his watery look becoming genuine as he asked questions he couldn't when he was thought of as Harry. "I hate to think that if the softest of the family is like this, what is the uncle like? Probably a bully. I wonder what cruelty he could have done to you and yours to make you hate him if he is as young as I. I wonder if his parents know that you're such a mean creature that you would take your Hell out on him. What is his crime? Existing? I would wish for you to leave that boy alone since you can't seem to care for him."
Harry turned back to Zim, his arms going around the Irken's neck as he pressed close. Zim let his hand fall naturally to hold the waist of the small human teen, his lips quirking up in the need to press the laughter back and under control. It wasn't so hard when little droplets of saline – he thought they were called tears but he couldn't be sure – touched his shirt and blotted on his neck. Actually, a blatant scowl folded across his face, the stinging from the human water making his skin tingle a little, but not burn. If he could say it without being a fool, he would say that this human was very pure in body since even his saliva hadn't tingled in pollution when in Zim's mouth. His mind ground to a halt as the horse woman let out a choked sob.
"Why – Why would you say something like that?" she cried scandalized and horrified all at the same time.
Harry peeked at the woman he once would have fondly called Aunt but now despised everything about her and her ugly treatment of himself. "Because, anyone willing to call a child a 'filthy beast' that cannot defend his or herself against an adult or authority figure is not a good person. Not a beautiful person. Not someone I want to associate with because if you treat your own blood that way, how much better would you fake your like of someone who is genuinely kind and friendly? Someone who gives everyone a chance even when others think that they do not deserve it? How many people would that make you take advantage of?" Harry snuggled into Zim's neck. "Just what kind of beast does that make you?"
The horse woman left with a stunned face, tear tracks drying down her cheeks. Zim glared after her, his eyes narrowed. His hatred had focused so solely on this dirt worm that it startled him when he realized just how violent his need was to break that fool female in half. He was not the physical type, not one to dirty his hands like a human-beast.
"I'm sorry, Zim," Harry whispered into the Irken's neck, the sound faint and muffled. Zim looked at the black curls that bounced softly against his hand, the teen shaking with repressed emotions. When those green, green eyes looked up, they held his attention like nothing on this Irk-forsaken polluted mud ball had been able to since day one. Not even that stupid human child Dib-stink distracted him to this degree.
"Who was that filth?" His voice was a growl of menace that skittered up Harry's spine in mild foreboding.
Harry grinned, watery and sad, but a grin nonetheless. "Now, now, Zim. No killing my Aunt. She isn't nice, but she is the only family I have left. Now if you're talking about Vernon . . ." Harry snuggled under the Irken's arms and as close as he could get without literally wrapping his body around the being he held. "So, shopping still on?"
Zim felt his instant recoil of any nice and-or pleasant emotion completely voided when Harry hugged him tighter. He mentally sighed. "Sure, Harry."
"M'kay. Come on, intrepid explorer of Earth, let's get you something to wear." Harry had his hand again and was pulling him along. Zim felt his eyes roll in a human expression but it seemed fitting for now. He actually relaxed and enjoyed the wonderful sensation of contentment while it lasted . . . until Harry finally asked. "So, Zim, just what are you? I can feel the difference just by being within ten feet of you, but it's not like anything I've felt before."
Zim felt himself freeze up, his spine straight and his manner reverting to a cool masked shell that was cold and menacing. Harry didn't even seem to be disturbed by it. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me, I was just wondering. You can call it a gift of senses. Maybe a curse sometimes." Harry winked at Zim, his good humor being restored slowly but surely. "Oh, come now, Dementors are a lot scarier when they're cold and frozen since, hey, they suck the life and soul out of you . . . usually literally. You rate on a scale of 1-to-10 a good six, maybe seven if you put more umph into it. Dementors are way up there, around ten, eleven. Even Voldy-moldy is just an eight or nine, depending on his mood and intentions. Oh, here's the store. In we venture," Harry laughed softly, his voice a little husky from tears but still a happy sound.
Zim didn't even know what to think. This little human was just so . . . so damn frustrating! That was it. He opened his mouth to say something when a bubbly fem teen came up to greet them wearing a skirt so short it should be illegal – and was in some areas – with thigh-high six-inch platform leather boots that laced all the way up. Her top was more her bra with a see-through white tee-shirt sliced in the front and without a solid back, the shirt divided and tied in knots that kept the cotton material flat against her body like a second skin. Her hair was buzzed in the back and long spiked-up curls in the front with bright neon blue streaks throughout the entire blond mass. Her eyes were green, not Harry's green, but more like a soft jade. Her lip rings glinted when she smiled and waved them in.
"Welcome to Hot Topic. What can I do ya for?"
Zim watched as Harry grinned at the girl and held out his hand, "Harry. This is Zim," she shook his hand and chuckled warmly. "Nice to meet you, ma'am. We're here looking for something that Zim and maybe I can wear if I can afford it." Harry pointed to the still silent Zim as he stood behind the human boy, the alien flashing several credit cards at the shop girl. "He is allergic to . . . um, synthetics?" Harry turned to Zim for confirmation, the alien already having hidden the plastic as he nodded. "Yes, synthetic material. I've seen several of your shirts around the neighborhood and thought they were more likely to be a more natural fabric."
The girl grinned even wider. "Sure, my com padres. We have a whole wall dedicated to clothes like that. Our newest shipment of silk pant-and-shirt sets made it in just last night and you're more than welcome to try them on. Not to mention all the weird things we carry for our more unusual customers."
She winked at Harry making the teen blush from hair to neck and Zim felt his jaw clench in intense dislike of this fem girl because of it. Harry's tentative question brought him from his reverie of how painfully he could kill the fem.
"Do you, ah, sell wizarding stuff?"
Zim would have laughed if the girl hadn't turned so serious. "Maaaaaybe."
Harry looked at her hard, glanced around, then said one word. "Metamorph." The girl blinked. Then did it again, rubbing her eyes as she did so.
"Did I miss you not only casting a spell, but doing so in a country where it is illegal to do so until you're seventeen?" Harry shook his head hard. "But, but, but . . ."
Harry smiled kindly. "It's a gift. Maybe. A curse, sometimes, but useful for staying out of too much trouble and generally alive if in pieces."
The girl squealed, her voice rising into the glass-shattering range. "O. M. G! This is so cool. I'm a squib since I can't cast regular spells, but I can morph or boil a mean cauldron when I need to. Come on in, then, and see what we can do for you. Or to you," she said with a shark-like grin that should have terrorized the poor and unknowing masses. She led them back to the inventory entrance, opening the door just on the inside and to the right that should had led to the other mundane human store called Ladies in Waiting. It did lead to a store, alright, just not the one Zim knew it physically should. "This, gentlemen is Hot Magic, the more magical side of Hot Topic. All our synthetic material in on that wall, and only about half. The rest is wholly natural and non-polluted. Think of it as a mass wizarding Green Day taken to a whole new and Earth friendly level. What we can't make function with electrical power, we make work with Earth Power. Oops, gotta go! Have fun, we have customers on the other side."
And she was gone. A whirlwind of bubbling joy that was almost sickening and obnoxious . . . but better than what Zim was used to. "Are . . . all humans like that?"
Harry laughed, his face bright. "No, but some are. You need more clothes, so let us go a-hunting." Harry led the way, Zim tagging along behind with a bemused face as Harry touched all the fabrics, comparing them by feel to Zim's own. "I think you might like this. It's a type of dragon hide. More expensive, maybe, but good for wear and tear. Oooh, or this one. Spider-silk. So soft . . ."
Zim watched as Harry picked and weighed, oohing and awing over certain kinds, rejecting others on contact. He came along behind the black haired teen, touching the same fabrics and things, some burning to the touch others soothing. As it turned out, Harry was quite adept at picking the things Zim himself would wear. Or in some cases just want. There were a few he wasn't too sure about, but Harry seemed to love the thestral and unicorn leathers . . . just not separately. Harry would touch the thestral hide and shiver, then the unicorn and literally glow. It was a fascinating show for the magically deprived alien.
"What if you touch them together?" Zim questioned with a wondering air. Truthfully, he wanted to see what would happen, his scientist mind racing with ideas. "I think something really . . . different will happen. Not bad."
Harry looked at him, his eyebrow up. "Okay." He shrugged and touched both at the same time, gasping as a frozen sensation swept through his body followed by a warmth that swirled around the cold and made it bearable. He sighed and opened his eyes – when had he closed them to begin with? – and grinned at Zim as the feeling filled him up and left him happy and content. "Brilliant. Just brilliant, Zim. I feel . . . I don't know, but it's just like flying." Harry let go and his face visibly lost the look of absolution, a look Zim felt half disappointed it wasn't where he could see it anymore.
"Wow . . . I've never seen that before. How cool, man!" The girl was back, her eyes bright and making Zim come this close to blasting her into dust. "I want to see what Pegasus hair will do to you. I wonder if you'll actually fly or not." She ran around the counter in the far corner and under the leather flap before coming back out with a bolt of shimmering gray fabric that literally seemed to be trying to fly off.
Harry laughed as the girl was jerked to the side before she righted herself with a scowl at the cloth. "Oh, no you don't. I might have the perfect person to finally buy you, you aggravating piece of lint."
Harry put his hand over his mouth as he giggle-snorted in an effort to not laugh, Zim feeling some humor fill him. "It seems . . . enthusiastic," Harry got out as he choked.
The girl glared at the gray fabric, pitching it to Harry who caught it without actual thought and held the now docile cloth. Harry's face lit up with a grin so wide it split his face almost in half. "Wow . . . just, just brill."
Zim nodded at the shop girl. "I want these fabrics. I need four in the style of my current shirt, probably the most durable. Purple, dark green, dark pink, dark blue, gray, and black are acceptable. I need a whole new wardrobe that will fit in with the rest of the humans, pants, shirts, under clothes . . . everything. Is there anyway to finish it by tomorrow?"
The shop girl laughed. "I mean, like, hell yeah. That's easy as long as we can have clothing that you've worn and about twenty minutes to wait. How about it, mister Zim? Got time?"
Zim nodded with a reserved look. "What will you need at this time?" Harry's face went a little red as he looked anywhere but at Zim. The girl laughed evilly—she seemed really good at it—and strolled over to grab Zim's shirt hem. Zim grabbed her wrist, the temperature in the shop dropping drastically. "If you needed my shirt, just let me know, human. I do not take kindly to being mauled."
Harry put the cloth down as he came up behind Zim to lightly put his hands on the Irken's shoulders. "Zim, she was kidding." Harry let Zim feel the fingers going down to reach his hand. "Come on, release her before you break her." Zim didn't want to, he wanted to break her for touching him, but the slim fingers getting in under his and between the girl's wrist and his grip was making him slowly think again. Harry slowly pressing against his back, head just high enough to see over the thin shoulder really caught his attention as emerald eyes looked at him with pleading and warmth. "Please, Zim, no hurting the little fleshy human, okay? She's a good person, just a bit more forward than you expected."
The girl backed up and moved away slowly, hands out to show no harm meant. "Sorry, Zim hunny, but I didn't mean to set you off. I was just playing around. Since Harry was taking my forwardness pretty well, I thought you might too." She grinned. "I know better now."
Zim took a breath and let it out, his hand clenching and releasing rhythmically around the smaller and more fragile one in his grip. "Zim, is there anything that might help you calm down? A hug? Some quiet time? Maybe a strong sensation that makes you feel more in control?" Harry let his other hand, the one not trapped by Zim, travel over the alien's chest in an effort to sooth him like Hermione did Harry. He wasn't sure if it was working, but he wouldn't let Zim be hurt for something so stupid. He might not know the Irken well yet, but Harry liked him . . . liked him a lot. He was good under all that gruff.
Zim held his breath, his mind flickering back to just an hour before when all thoughts of hate and killing and death hadn't been pounding his brain. "Harry," he rasped out, his voice more syllabic and breathy than he liked. The teen came around to look at him, those green eyes comforting. "Come here."
Zim let Harry's hand go and pulled the young human boy close, wrapping his arms around the ebony-haired human before latching his mouth onto Harry's. Harry went with it willingly,wrapping his arms around the Irken's neck as the alien took his mouth and ravished it desperately. Actually, Harry had been hoping for a repeat of the feeling of having someone like Zim kissing him senseless and just absolutely mind-blowing. The tongue was forked and prehensile, moving of its own violation and enticing Harry to groan into the kiss as the Irken took his mouth. If Harry had to call it anything, and Hermione would so put it with this label, he would almost call it mouth sex.
Zim felt the world melt away, his mouth moving over and in Harry's, his tongue flicking out and twisting around the young human's tongue, wringing another soft sound from the boy. He liked those sounds, no matter how odd it seemed, and let his thoughts go to fully appreciate the taste and texture of someone that he could physically take into his mouth, his body, without being burnt or hurt. How delicious he tasted too . . . almost like Irken made chocolate wrapped in a unique flavor with no name or label. And the feel! Like hot living silk that stroked and caressed his mouth into giving a purr that vibrated all the way down. When he finally pulled away, Harry was glassy-eyed, grinning, and a bit unsteady on his feet. Zim felt that way too – just slightly, mind you – but couldn't help but want to repeat the performance. If this is what humans felt, no wonder they kissed everywhere with no care for discretion.
"I think I'm calmed down now," Zim stated with a grin. The shop girl was sitting over to the side fanning herself.
"I'm glad someone is because I'm not and I know poor Harry can't be. Wow . . . just yowhza. I wish I had a camera. The yaoi fangirls are gonna freak when they hear of this." She popped off the side counter and slowly made her way over. "Can I have your shirt now, or should I let Harry retrieve it? When he gains coherency and thought back, anyway."
"Oh, ha-bloody-ha," growled the black-haired teen, his green eyes unfocused but his mind was intact . . . maybe. He wasn't so sure right now. "I'll do it since I prefer not to wind up on the floor. That and I have this thing about waiting at least a day before jumping back into trouble or saving people." Harry looked up at Zim, his eyes like stars as he captured the Irken's attention without having to say anything. "May I please have your shirt?"
Zim for some reason couldn't speak, so he nodded as he swallowed hard. Small deft hands raked up the pink shirt, touching the smooth scaled skin of his waist where his pants left off like fluttering butterflies. Zim sucked in his breath, his eyes widening. What was this feeling bubbling in his stomach? It was hot and clenching and making him hard in his tight pants, something that had never happened before. Of course, the tingling of magic running over his nerves might have had something to do with it too. However, when those electrifying eyes looked at him like that, he could say it was from that look alone.
Harry placed his hands flat against Zim's skin, skimming the shirt up as he ran his hands up that smooth flesh that felt like hot silk over steel as he traced the indentations of the abdomen muscles up to the pectorals, the musculature different than a humans. It was fascinating, really, and Harry took his time exploring before he finally pulled the shirt up and off, letting his fingers run over the arms and neck of his savior. Zim shivered and bit back a groan of disappointment when Harry finally let go. The shop girl stood there, her eyes slightly glazed and her jaw hanging open.
Harry handed her Zim's shirt and she snapped out of her funk, wiping her mouth with a napkin in case she had drooled. "I'll-" her voice was too rough and she cleared her throat. "I'll be right back. Harry, try and get him out of his pants without tackling him to the floor. Please . . . or not."
Harry went red and Zim grinned. Maybe becoming friends with that forward human fem would be worth it to get Harry to be more forward since Zim had been tempted to all but claim the ebony-haired teen as his own by now. After analyzing the feeling – once he could think anyway – Zim had placed it as sexual arousal. He had never experienced it before but when it is described so accurately, what else could it be? And seeing Harry blush over him was beautiful indeed. Yes, he would keep in touch with this human fem.
Harry wrinkled his nose at Zim. "I am not taking off your pants, mister. I might be . . . um," Harry went so red his ears blushed with him. "Okay, I have no idea why I took off your shirt like that but don't get used to it, Zim. Now, off with your pants. The shop girl needs them for accurate measurements or your pants won't fit correctly." Harry stepped back out of Zim's personal bubble and waited for the Irken to do as he was told. Of course, Harry couldn't know that Zim was enjoying watching Harry too much to show how much he hated being told what to do. He'd get to that eventually . . . maybe. If he remembered later. Why was there a 'later' at all? Zim scratched his head and sighed. It really didn't matter, did it?
"If you insist, little human," Zim grinned as he shimmied out of his pants and let them puddle on the floor, watching as Harry's eye went wide. Zim was cackling madly on the inside at the look of sheer disbelief combined with a curious light just begging for answers.
"Oh, Merlin, you're naked. Why don't you wear underwear? Why can't I find normal people who wear underwear?" Harry lamented in a theatrical fashion as he grabbed up a length of fabric and wrapped it around Zim's waist. "Ron doesn't, Hermione only wears thongs, and, Zim, you don't wear underclothes either! Am I the only sane one to wear underclothes?"
Harry looked up to see Zim grinning madly before his face was grabbed and pulled in for another kiss. If this kept up, Harry wouldn't be able to walk, much less run from sexy what-evers that where so well endowed he wondered if the horse cried when it happened.
Zim pushed Harry back, the teen holding the fabric around Zim's waist just barely as he was pushed back and over one of the tables stacked with bolts of magical fabrics. Harry tried to gasp out that this wasn't right, but the tongue invading his mouth and suckling his tongue had him gasping for another reason. Zim was careful in his attack, stroking Harry's neck and sides softly, delicately running his hands down the teen's sides and up his back. Harry's knees were on either side of him causing Zim to come into full frontal contact, the human boy all but purring with the attention. There was something hard against his stomach and he reached down to remove it. When he grasped the length through Harry's over-sized trousers, Harry arched up into the touch, moaning wantonly causing Zim to start. Whatever it was he had grabbed, the reaction was superb as Harry completely surrendered to the Irken's domination.
"If you two have sex on that fabric, you're going to have to buy it."
Zim looked up and snarled at the human woman, his teeth bared in a sharp grimace. The shop girl took a step back before grabbing his discarded pants, turning around and leaving. That taken care of, the Irken returned to his human, licking the neck that was stretched like an offering before him. Zim took it, biting and marking the flesh, half tempted to bite hard enough to taste blood. Not yet, his mind whispered. Wait, it cautioned. He heeded the warnings, but only just barely.
"Zim . . . Zim! S-stop, please. I'm gonna—Oh, Merlin! ZIM!" Harry arched under the Irken, his body pulled tight as he came in his pants, body aching with orgasmic ecstasy. Zim pulled back, licking his lips and watching as Harry came down from his high. He would wait. Only when he claimed this tiny human, his Harry, would he release himself.
"Zim, we're going to have to buy this stuff, ya know," Harry said once he could breath properly. "I, for one, do not have the funds at this current moment to purchase any of it. And I'm sticky." Harry grimaced, his face pulled awkwardly in a small frown.
Zim grinned. "We shall see, shall we not?" He pulled Harry close so that the teen straddled his waist. "Think my clothing is done?"
Harry stuck his tongue out. "You git," he groused humorously. "What am I to do with you? And why do I let you do whatever you want, I wonder."
The shop girl came back, her face pink, but composed as if people had sex in her store every day. "The pants will be done in another ten minutes or so. And since Harry might need more clothes, I'll need to see him for a fitting. Shouldn't take long at all."
Harry scooted forward and off the table, Zim standing imposingly before him. Harry gave him a pleading look. "Please, Zim? I need something to wear home and stained jeans are not my favorite wear."
Zim rolled his eyes. "Fine. But," he leaned in close. "If you take too long, I will come after you."
Harry grinned and scampered off after planting a sweet kiss on Zim's cheek in thanks. Zim touch his face, a blush tinging his cheeks a curious blue-red.
In the back of Hot Magic, scissors cut and trimmed as needles sewed and stitched gracefully in tiny stitching. One was almost finished and looked like Zim's old shirt, only it was a deep and sturdy purple. A black and a pewter gray mass were floating nearby to be finished, clearly more shirts for Zim.
The girl lead him to a stall in the far back corner of the small hall . . . a shower stall. "Take a quick wash-up, Harry. There are towels to the left and cleaning things on the right. When you're dry, call me and I'll send in the tape measure."
As Harry was getting undressed in the small shower room, the shop girl talked to him through the paper thin door. "I don't get why you let him push you around, Harry. I mean, yeah he's totally seme, but you're too head strong for a normal uke type." Harry leaned out the door and looked at her.
"What are you talking about? And what is your name? I seem to keep forgetting to ask," he fired off smoothly as he stepped into the frothing water head.
"Name's Candy Michelson. And I meant Dominate and Submissive. 'Seme' and 'uke' are terms used on the bulletin boards and in the chat rooms since everyone hates typing out the longest word imaginable." She paused and Harry could hear her mind working. "So, how long have you known this Zim?"
Harry answered truthfully. "Today. Just over an hour ago, actually."
Candy was quiet several minutes. "Okay, that is unusual. Why do you let him all but maul you, then? I mean, even the most submissive person would want to know something about their partner."
Harry scrubbed his hair and body while thinking that over. "What can I tell you? He's one hell of a good kisser." Candy laughed and Harry grinned into the water. "But, I don't know. He makes me feel safe. I don't get that feeling often. Pretty much never, really. I cherish that more than anything else right now."
Candy chewed on her hair. "So, you are that Harry then. Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived. Why do you put up with all that mess from the papers?"
Harry had frozen before the girl practically blew his fame to smithereens by ignoring it. He coughed as he swallowed water the wrong way. "What? I mean, yes, I am that Harry. What can I do about the papers? I've held about none of all the publicity. Know nothing of what is written nine times out of ten. Heck, I didn't even know they were writing about me until Malfoy opened his gob and spouted off like a water sprinkler."
Candy looked at the door. "Seriously? How horrible. Can't you hire a lawyer or something? Reduce the stupid stuff and get to the nitty-gritty?"
Harry blinked. "You know, I never thought of that. Merlin, am I a dunce or what?"
Candy snorted a laugh. "Yeah. Right. If half of what I read about your adventures are true, it's a wonder you finish any of your school work on a regular basis in time to hand it in to the teacher. And pass the class. I couldn't do that. I know I wouldn't stand a snowball's chance in hell if it came down to it. And if you want, I can ask some of the girls about a good attorney that would black-ball the papers so bad, they'd be permanently limp."
Harry gurgled a laugh as he stepped from the shower, clean and trying to get dry enough. "If you can, go ahead and send in the tape. I need something other than a towel to wear when I go back out there with Zim. If I don't . . . well." He shrugged.
Candy snickered. "Hah! You got that right, Harry. Just hold still as the tape measures you up right quick. Ten minutes and I'll have simple set ready. I'll use that Pegasus fabric and the thestral and unicorn hide for the next one. These won't be anything fancy, just good to wear anywhere." Four seconds later and the tape was gone, Harry blinking at the sudden departure. "Thanks, Harry," Candy called.
Harry nodded, grabbing a wrapped comb and relieving it of its wrapper. Though he couldn't tame the mass, he was willing to groom it well. It was then that he actually noticed that his hair was still curly, though his eyes had mostly reverted back to normal. Even his body was still slightly soft and feminine, Harry scowling at the curve of his hips. Then he thought of Zim's reaction to him, to his body as it was and felt his entire body flush. Maybe being a bit feminine wasn't too bad. Towel around his hips, he stepped from the steaming shower and into a shirt . . . of sorts. Candy was on the other side of it, her grinning face putting him on guard.
"Okay, what did you do? And is Zim the master mind of it?" Candy stuck her tongue out.
"No, you goof. It's one of your new shirts. Think of it as a thank you gift for Zim buying so much stuff. And for that floor show."
Harry scowled and plucked the shirt from her hands, pulling it on one handed so that his towel wouldn't dessert him for the floor. It was a stretchy fabric, not tight, but form fitting and Harry felt half naked just wearing it . . . Oh, yeah, he still was. "No pants?" he teased.
Candy laughed and threw a pair of shimmery black fabric at him, the bundle catching him in the face. "Thanks, you hoyden. Jeez, ask for pants, get smacked in the face. Hey, where's the underwear? Where's the room for the underwear?"
Candy laughed so hard tears came to her eyes. "You're supposed to wear them as is, Brit. Not ruin the line with drawers."
Harry scowled. "Yes, well, you Americans are heathens. So there."
"You're such a girl, Harry. Just put them on. Zim won't even notice if you don't tell him about it." She canted her hips as a smug smile graced her lips. "And just think, if you want, it's all easy access."
Harry spluttered as Candy flounced off like a diva queen with a wink.