Notes: Drabble based on a one word prompt, Want.
Thomas could not help himself. If there was one thing he lived for, it was making his half-brother as uncomfortable as humanly possible. The shocked look on Butters' face as Thomas affectionately pressed his lips to Harry's dark hair was an added bonus. And, almost unfortunately, so was the intoxicating scent that struck Thomas's nose, the softness of the hair against his mouth, the way Harry's shoulder tensed under his hand. Thomas could feel his Hunger rising quickly to the surface. He wondered what would happen if he trailed down to Harry's lips, clutched dark hair in his fingers and kissed Harry slowly and sensually. Kissed him until his own lips were bruised and swollen, until Harry was gasping for air and giving as good as he was getting. But Thomas just grit his teeth, blinked away a silver shine and pulled back to grin at a thoroughly stunned Harry and a sputtering Butters. Would have been a great way to make a timid mortician spontaneously combust, he thought to himself.