Keep Me Safe (Sequel to Take Me Home)

Chapter Six

Ashton rolled over carefully, so that Harry was on his back on the bed, with his boyfriend straddling him, elbows on either side of his head. The kiss was deep and passionate one moment then in the next it seemed to become frenzied and almost sloppy. Their tongued mashed together and they sometimes missed each others mouths so that kisses peppered their cheeks and chins.

Then Ash began to trail his lips along Harry's jaw, down his neck, sucking in a way that made Harry feel hot all over as he moaned. But then his boyfriend moved back up to his mouth and their hips met and he was starting to feel uncomfortable as a hand snaked up the front of his shirt.

He pulled away and Ash allowed him to, never forceful.

"I want to stop," Harry said, breathing heavily as he sat up. His chest felt all tight at the thought of Ashton seeing his body, seeing all of his scars.

Ashton nodded immediately, hand pulling away, face red from how frantic and fast it had all been. Almost scarily fast. "Of course...are - are you okay? I didn't mean to -"

Harry shook his head. "It's okay. I'm okay, I just..." he trailed off, because it truly wasn't anything Ashton had done. He'd never tried to make him go further than he was comfortable with. It was his own hangups that were the problem. "Do you mind taking me home?" he asked, quietly.

He felt guilty, like he had ruined their night. He just felt all weird and disgusting. His scars were gross and so was the rest of him, and Ashton could do so much better. He just felt low, all of a sudden.

Thankfully, Ashton was good at reading him and understood. He nodded. "Sure, Haz...I'm really sorry if I -"

"You didn't do anything wrong...I - I love you, I just..."

"I know." Harry watched as Ashton gave a small nod and smiled at him. "I love you too," he murmured.

Harry gulped down the lump in his throat and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's middle, both sitting on the edge of the mattress now.

He just wished he felt deserving of that love.

He got home by about nine-thirty. He was pretty sure that his brothers were already in bed, and his parents were curled up together watching the TV downstairs.

He didn't want to disturb them, nor did he want to face their questioning about why he was home already, so he crept quietly up the stairs. The door to his room was open a crack, and he could see through the darkness that Louis was fast asleep in his bed.

He sighed, knowing that his twelve year old brothers must still have been arguing. He knew he'd have to sleep in Louis' bed instead, so he snuck across the landing and peered into the twins room.

The light was off, but Niall's eyes were visibly open as he lay near the edge of the mattress in a foetal position, one arm hanging over the edge of the bed to stroke the fur of Cooper, who was on the floor between the two beds.

He flicked the light switch on slowly and rolled his eyes when Niall huffed and muttered at him to turn it back off.

"I need to sort my stuff out, Ni," he said back, irritated by the attitude. The blond had been snapping at everyone since yesterday and he didn't want to deal with it right now, he had enough on his mind.

"Sort it somewhere else," he said back, tone annoyed but still in the same position.

Harry sighed, not wanting to argue. "Whatever. I'll sleep in with Lou," he muttered, slapping the light switch off as he left the room and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get changed into the PJs that were in the bag he had taken to Ash's.

He still felt guilty, despite how understanding the other boy had been. He wished he could have been normal, but all it took was one little thing and suddenly his head was all messed up again. He stared at himself in the mirror before he put his long-sleeved pajama shirt on, grimacing at the burns on his arms, the faded horizontal slashes layered on top of them.

He was disgusting. Why would anyone ever want someone like him?

He realised then, that he had forgotten how it felt for metal to slice his skin open, and momentarily, he wished he could feel it again. He longed to feel it again...he gulped down the thought though and quickly shrugged on his shirt. He couldn't mess up all of his progress, he just couldn't.

On his way back to his room, he passed by the twins room again. And then he stopped, because he could hear sniffling, muffled as if whoever was crying didn't want to be caught.

He frowned, peering through the gap in the door to see Niall, rolled over to face the wall now, all curled up with the duvet half over his face, sobbing quietly into the material.

His heart ached at the sight and he felt even guiltier now, knowing he had upset his little brother. He sighed, then quietly opened the door and, rather than getting into Louis' bed, he slipped beneath the covers beside Niall.

He tried not to be surprised when his smallest brother rolled over and buried himself into him, clutching softly onto his shirt and trying to hide his tears still. Harry didn't say anything, he just wrapped an arm around his small body and held him close - knowing that whatever comfort he was offering Niall right then, this was helping him too.

He really needed the contact right then.
He really needed to feel like somebody wanted him.

"I'm sorry, Nialler," he murmured, and Niall sniffed, shaking his head but not saying anything.

He always felt sorry for something - whether it be something small and irrelevant or something like his entire existence.

He always felt sorry, and right then, he was sorry he wasn't a better boyfriend, a better brother, a better son. But he was going to do his best.

It was clear that his brothers needed him right then, and that was enough.

EDITED 16.12.21