in which your husband and Harry's wife dragged you both into a situation you didn't want to be in, but as it turns out, everything happens for a reason
Warning: 18+, smut, mentions of cheating/swinging, dom/sub dynamics, angst, slow-ish burn ( swing...
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Harry sighed heavily while closing the door to the hotel room behind him. He leaned against it as he watched the young woman pace the room and look around, wondering how he was going to let her down easily.
This was a mistake. He never should have agreed to this.
"I can't do this." She suddenly turned to face him after staring at the bed for a long while as if lost in her own thoughts.
Harry straightened up as a huge wave of relief washed over him and made to reply but she went on, agitated. "I'm sorry. I know this must be disappointing, but I just can't go through with it. It's got nothing to do with you, please don't feel bad–"
Harry approached her and let out a light chuckle, "Please, no need to explain yourself. I feel exactly the same. I was struggling to find a way to break it to you myself."
"Wait- really? You're not just saying that?"
He placed his hand over his heart. "Swear to god. And don't worry, it's got nothing to do with you either... I just... Well, as corny as it sounds, I realized what a huge mistake this was. Agreeing to this. I love my wife. We don't need this. I'm sure she must've freaked out by now, too."
"Oh, thank god." The woman clutched the neckline of her shirt and sighed in relief smilingly, the both of them chuckling at the realization they were on the same page about this. "I'm going to call him. I know it's against the rules but like you said, I'm sure he's backing out too by now."
Harry was already dialling his wife's number but his serene expression faded as soon as it went straight to voicemail. "Hm. She must've not turned her phone back on yet. She'll call me back."
"Same here." Harry didn't miss the slight tremble in her hands.
"Hey. It's alright..."
But she kept trying her husband's number again and again and soon she was panicking, pacing the room nervously.
Harry tried his wife's number again, too. Voicemail. He was trying to keep himself in check, and decided to distract himself by reassuring the young woman. "Hey. Let's give it a moment. Let's not jump to conclusions. Come, let's just sit for a bit, we're on edge."
She nodded frantically and sat on the edge of the bed next to the man. She placed the phone in her lap and her forehead in her hands, resting her elbows on her knees and tried to breathe in deeply to calm herself. "Why did I ever agree to this? What if he's actually going through with it?"
Harry placed his own phone next to him on the bed after he double checked it wasn't on silent. He rubbed his face, squeezing his eyes shut. "I didn't want to. She did. It was her idea."
"Same here. He brought it up..."
"The whole way here I kept expecting her to freak out and tell me to turn the car around and go back home. That this was a mistake. That we don't need this. But she never did. If anything, she was giddy. Felt sick the whole time. I tried to hide it from her and not be a spoilt sport because I had agreed to it, after all... I don't think I spoke a word the whole ride here. She didn't even notice."
