When You Say You Love Me

Chapter One

They were ten years old the first time it happened. Harry had gotten on bad terms with his father again and, like always, had gone to the only place he felt wanted. Standing on the porch of the Parker household in the pouring down rain, hair plastered flat against his forehead and body shivering slightly, he had already begun to feel that warmth. Parker warmth. He knew it because it was different than other kinds of warmths (when you're ten years old you notice those kinds of things). It felt like a hug, a loving embrace of a friend in a familiar kitchen that smelled like fresh-baked cookies. And he knew he was home. Or at least the place that was as close to home as he had.

He pushed the button beside the door, listening to the bell chime inside the house, and when the tired-looking, aged woman opened the door he smiled politely. She smiled back and called over her shoulder. Moments later a tasseled head of brown hair popped around the door, attached to a crooked grin that made Harry's stomach flip-flop. Just like it always did.

He couldn't help but grin back as Peter pulled him inside, muttering maternally about him catching pneumonia (how Peter knew such a big and hard to pronounce word was beyond Harry). Harry simply rolled his eyes and let Peter fuss over him as they made their way up the stairs to Peter's bedroom, where the lanky boy bustled around trying to find Harry dry clothes. The shirt hung almost to his knees and the shorts had to be rolled a few times before they'd stop falling down, but Peter claimed they were only a little bigger on him. The boys then lapsed into a giggly argument about whether or not the clothes were his uncle's (they obviously were).

Then the mood went stale. Grins faded and giggles silenced, and soon they were cuddled together, Peter maturely rubbing Harry's back as he cried, sobs muffled in the other boy's shoulder.

"H-he doesn't love me Pete... He never loved me..." Somehow he managed to talk through hiccuping sobs, and Peter held him tighter, nuzzling his nose into his friend's neck. "He blamed m-me. For my mom..." He lapsed into silence then, body relaxing more into the embrace as he drank in Peter's natural warmth. Peter didn't say anything, his unnaturally keen instincts picking up on his friend's silence and knowing that he wasn't done. He could almost hear the gears turning in Harry's head, he was thinking so hard.

"I don't think... I don't think anyone loves me."

Peter stiffened at that, and his heart gave a small, pitying jump. He shifted so that his legs were wrapped completely around Harry and he was as close as possible. He stayed like that for a long while, until Harry's hiccups quieted, and then he pulled away slightly so he could look him in the eyes.

"That's impossible Harry." Harry looked up at him with an innocently questioning expression. "That's impossible, because I love you. And I'm always going to love you."

Harry's heart swelled and then dove almost immediately, making him feel both elated and sick in the same instant. He suddenly felt dizzy, and rested his head on Peter's shoulder, closing his eyes as he thought.

He's only saying that because he feels bad for you.

But what if he means it?

He doesn't, and you know it. No one loves you. Your own father doesn't even love you.

He lifted his head again, looking up at Peter with a fiercely scrutinous gaze, studying his face for any sign that he was lying.

"Say that again."

Peter grinned at the request, even going so far as to laugh quietly before going serious again.

"I love you, Harry."

And the feeling came again.