words: 1970
genre: light (?) smut, angst, cheating!
A/N: Hey guys... long time no see!
Take this cheating oneshot I have had in my drafts for a long time.
Beware, this is very out of character!
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"You're not the only one."
The words had been repeating in Simon's head since Harry had drunkenly muttered them that night.
"Back home, he's there."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm unhappy, Simon." His voice was barely above a whisper, but Simon listened ever so closely to ensure he heard every word. "Can't do it anymore. Too much."
He fell asleep shortly after, left hand on Simon's bicep and mouth slightly parted, his soft snores occupying the white noise in the room and the chirp of the crickets outside. He was peaceful in his sleep. So unlike Simon's all-too-aware awaken state.
Now that Harry had fallen asleep, Simon had the time to ponder on the thoughts that were now occupying his mind. Had he really been so stupid to get involved with an already coupled person?
He lay ever so still for as long as he could remember, conscious of his movements as to not wake the sleeping body next to him.
Why did he still care?
It took him an unusual amount of time to drift off into sleep, but once he was out, he was out cold.
He awoke in the morning with an uneasy feeling in his chest, and an all too soon migraine. He rubbed his head and sat up, his stinging eyes meeting Harry's.
"Morning," the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a smile, "didn't think you'd sleep this long."
"What time is it?"
Harry reached over to the bedside table and checked his watch. "9:27."
"You were up early then," he yawned as if on cue, "sobered up?"
"Hm. I had a comfortable pillow to sleep on." He nodded his head towards Simon's chest, which unfortunately didn't explain the uneasiness he felt in it. "I was about to go downstairs, if you'd like to join-" He went to get up, but Simon grabbed his wrist, holding him back, and interrupted him.
"Harry."
"What is it?"
He had no time to plan what he wanted to say. He needed to get it out in the air, though. He needed to not beat around the bush, he needed to let the other man know that he couldn't stand to participate in a cheating relationship.
"Last night, you said you were unhappy." Harry's eyes widened, and he appeared panicked. "Someone is back home, and you're unhappy. It's too much."
For a second, Harry stammered. It was clear that he was struggling with deciding on what to say. "Last night? I was drunk, and, well, you know? You know how drunk people are. I'm sure I meant nothing by it." He laughed uneasily, awkwardly, but Simon wanted the truth. His face turned stern, and his voice took a serious tone.
"Harry. Tell me the truth."
His breathing paused. He visually tensed up. "I'm so sorry." He averted his eyes from Simon's and lowered his head, hanging it in shame. "His name is Alan. My partner, if that's even the appropriate title. We've been together for a while. I-" his voice broke, and a sob came from his throat. Tears that had been threatening to flow trickled down his cheeks and onto his chin. "I don't love him anymore. I haven't loved him for a long time. We don't get along. He's too much."
