Bonded

Chapter Eight

Harry flopped backwards onto his bed. The day had been incredibly draining and it wasn't even over yet.

After Isaac brought them both home Harry went straight to his room to unwind while Isaac went to find Daniel. Daniel would most likely be found working overtime in his office. The man was always trying to get ahead, never truly taking a break.

Harry had heard Ollie, on the phone, in his own room nextdoor. He was likely talking to his parents. They lived in a smaller town a few hours away but Ollie liked to call them every weekend to chat and catch up.

Everyone being busy meant that Harry likely had a few hours to himself. He slid some headphones into his ears, while selecting some music on his phone. He secretly liked to pick music from his home country when he was listening by himself. While he could no longer understand the language he liked to close his eyes and just listen. Sometimes certain words would jar memories from his childhood. They were always of his parents and while he couldn't remember their faces, it warmed his heart to catch little glimpses of their brief time together.

Harry was restless and fidgeted while he laid around and listened. He was too awake to sleep and he wasn't zoning out into his music like he usually did. A part of him wanted to walk around the house and maybe watch TV or something but tensions were high this weekend and it was like walking on egg shells wherever he was around his partners.

Normally things weren't quite as bad, where he felt the need to hide away, but at times like this Harry wished he had a hobby. Some type of art or passion to kill the time. He had thought about trying different things but valued household calmness over not being bored. His partners would most often encouraged and support his desires, but they were displeased just often enough for him to worry about it when bringing up a new interest. He knew his lack of activities was primarily his own fault but couldn't bring himself to do anything about it.

The problem wasn't that they didn't support his every whim, but that he couldn't predict which activities would receive their blessing and which ones would not. At first he tried to assess their thoughts, in order to avoid the things they wouldn't like, but there never seemed to be any rhyme or reason to their support. And everytime they got upset with him, he would get so emotionally worked up and bothered that it would throw off the atmosphere in the house for weeks, disturbing everyone.

And so, today, he did nothing, just laid on his bed, listening to music .... and just .... thinking. He let his mind wonder, thinking about Slaven and his restaurant, and how he felt everytime he ate there. It made him think about how Slaven offered him a job and place to stay, and wondered what it would be like to live with him and his wife. Harry envisioned life under Slaven's roof as peaceful, joyful bliss. He also wondered if living with his biological parents, before they died, felt the same.

There was a knock at the door that he barely registered through his music. He sat up, and pulled out his earbuds. "Come in," he called to whoever was on the other side.

Ollie poked his head in. "Hey bud, I can hear Daniel calling you from downstairs."

Harry mentally rolled his eyes at Ollie's term of endearment, but lifted up the earbuds in his hands and jingled them in response.

Ollie chuckled, "I see, why don't we go down and see what they want together."

"You don't need to go with me," Harry seethed, questioning his motives.

Ollie shrugged, "he called me too."

Satisfied with the response, Harry walked beside Ollie as they descended down the stairs together.

Seeing Isaac in the living room, Ollie walked off to sit beside him, leaving Harry to enter the kitchen on his own.

Daniel was sitting at the island, with his cellphone and laptop out, still working away. Harry tentatively approached him, trying to be quiet, as to not disturbed him.