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27. Why Don't We Go There

27. Why Don't We Go There

As soon as he had shut the door to his own hotel room, he fought the urge to throw the nearest lamp against the wall.

He easily could have just let Scott keep going. He could have made sure that Scott was taken care of, that he enjoyed every moment of it, that he felt safe, and loved, and cared for.

But he couldn't bring himself to do it when he felt that Scott wasn't... physically responding... the way that Harry was.

His conversation with Louis echoed through his mind, and he cursed his best friend's name for ruining this... again.

He had planned to have a discussion with Scott soon. About how he wanted to do this. About what he liked, what he didn't. That was the mature thing to do when you love somebody, right?

Harry's heart stopped.

Love.

Shit.

He scrambled to get himself ready for bed. That word had been floating around his brain for the past couple of weeks. He had almost let it slip out of his mouth several times already.

Scott didn't seem ready to hear those words, so he kept them to himself.

And Harry refused to cross that line physically with him until he was ready to hear those words.

So he should be proud of himself for sticking to that plan, right?

He grabbed Scott's key along with his own, and clamored back to his boyfriend's room.

His heart only broke slightly when his knock went unanswered. He used the key, and made his way through the pitch-black room.

"I took your key with me," Harry whispered, crawling onto the bed and tucking himself behind Scott, placing a kiss to the back of his neck. "Don't be mad. Couldn't go to sleep without you, not like this."

He wrapped his arms around Scott's body, and placed a kiss to his shoulder. "Scott?"

"Mmm?" Scott mumbled.

"I..." Harry started, but his voice broke. He didn't want to cry.

"You what?" Scott muttered, aggravated.

"I love you," Harry whispered.

The silence was deafening. Scott's body was rigid against him. Harry rested his forehead against Scott's back, right between his shoulder blades, and waited.

It felt as though Scott was ripped from his grasp in the next moment, and he nearly sobbed out loud.

But the light on the bedside table turned on, and Scott flipped over, his blue eyes searching Harry's.

Like he was looking for the lie.

Harry maintained his gaze, trying to convey his feelings through his irises.

"I love you, too."

The words were hardly audible. Harry couldn't help the smile that spread across his face.

"You do?"

Scott nodded, and suddenly, Harry could see it in his eyes, too.

They loved each other.

This was going to be okay.

When he awoke the next morning, the sheets next to him were cold.

He panicked for a moment, until he heard the door open and shut.

He watched as Scott made his way back towards the bed, clutching two cups of coffee in his hands.