A Walk in the Park--Larry Stylinson

Scorn

Louis couldn't suppress the gasp any more than he could have schooled his features into a poker face.

Harry was in love with him!

The therapist, of course, showed no reaction. He was trained to be unassuming and nonjudgmental. He stole a glance at Louis, and seeing the young man's shock, he decided not to dwell on the words Harry had just spoken.

Seeing how Louis was stunned, the doctor gave him a minute to compose himself. He began to write on his notepad in an offhand way until he felt Louis was enough in the present to continue with the session.

Just like Harry to drop a bomb like that in front of a stranger! But was Louis mad at him? No, of course not. He'd probably felt safer saying it here than chancing having Louis freak out at home. Not that Harry was afraid of him, but the fact that he'd never said those words to him before was probably enough to make Harry leery of a questionable reaction.

"So, I understand there is a problem with intimacy?" Dr. Meeks directed this to Louis.

"Well, erm, yeah. On Harry's part. It's . . . difficult for him."

"And how do you feel about that?"

Typical shrink question, thought Louis. But he had to be cooperative, and humor the guy because Harry needed help. After all, he himself was not qualified to do it.

"I'm patient . . . I hope," Louis said, tossing Harry a glance to see if Harry agreed.

Harry nodded. "He is," he agreed.

"Okay, so Harry, we know you've been treated roughly by someone else. Has Louis ever treated you roughly?"

"No, never," Harry shook his head firmly.

"And you know he never would, am I right?"

"Yes, I do know that."

"What, precisely, is it you're afraid of, Harry?"

Oh boy. This was where it was going to get interesting.

Harry tried to put on a brave face. But instead an instant later, he crumpled. There wasn't any forewarning. He just collapsed, like a balloon devoid of air, flopping back against the back of the couch, his head thrown back as well, whereas he'd been sitting on the edge before. As if he hadn't the strength to sit up straight any longer.

"Harry, you do need to talk about it. It's the only way we can get to the bottom of it. The meat of the matter."

Geez . .. Louis really wished the therapist hadn't used that particular expression. He would have laughed, but this wasn't the time nor the place.

"Well, I . . . I'm not sure what exactly it is," Harry floundered. "I just don't want it to turn into what happened in the past."

"And what makes you think it might?"

This guy was relentless with his questions! Louis almost wanted to tell him to fuck off and drag Harry out of there. It seemed like too much pressure. But, upon reflection, he realized it must be necessary. It was the guy's job, after all. It might be a little painful for Harry, but if this would help him, maybe they'd both be grateful for the outcome . . . someday.

"I don't know. I'm just . . . nervous."

"How far have you gone, sexually, if at all?"

Louis knew the questions had to be asked, but he felt somehow violated. And felt violated for Harry as well.

"Just huggin,' kissin,' and kinda rubbin' against each other," Harry said bashfully, his face turning bright red.

"With clothes off or on?" was the next question.