camp cherry | hs

fifty five

i just got 11K what-

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HANA

Eventually, Harry manages to calm down and slow his sobs to small sniffles.

"Hey, why don't we go to your treehouse now?" I suggest softly, still hyper-aware of Harry's sensitive and vulnerable state.

"Alright," he agrees shortly, which worries me greatly, but I keep quiet, not wanting to disrupt his relative happiness, - or that he's at least not crying. Although, all I want to know is what's going on inside his head right now because it looks like it a lot to deal with alone judging by the dazed glaze over his bright eyes.

The blankets are still spread across the floor, pillows stuffed into corners and the fairy lights soon switched on by Harry, illuminating the many posters littering the walls.

"Could we sleep in here?" I ask spontaneously, Harry frowning in confusion but nodding slowly.

"I guess, I'll set an alarm so we can go home—uh, back, back to my cabin," he stutters, a joyous smile taking over my face as he calls his place 'home.', "before breakfast."

"Sounds good," I murmur, resting my cheek on Harry's shoulder as we both sit with our backs flat to the wall. Harry has to bend his legs as they don't fit, but I stretch mine out comfortably, tapping the opposite wall with my tiptoes.

"Cherry," he speaks, his voice shaky almost as if he's nervous, and I hum to confirm that I'm listening. "Hug?" he mumbles, lifting his arms in a request that I just can't deny. Climbing onto his lap and crossing my hands behind his head as I comply, smiling softly at how tightly he squeezes me.

"Are you alright?"

"No," he answers truthfully. I kiss the side of his head gently for his honesty, my hand lacing through his fluffy hair.

"What's wrong, Harry? You can always talk to me," I whisper reassuringly, retreating so I can observe his face and the few tears falling from his bright eyes.

"I feel like if I hadn't have told him I was bi, he would've told me, and because I came out first he thought it would've been awkward and I would think he had a crush on me. I just—what if it's my fault he had to hide who he was? And I've done that for a long time - I know how horrible it is," he rambles, letting it all out which is a very good thing, I suppose.

"Harry, there could be and are a million reasons why he didn't come out, and you being yourself proudly isn't one of them. It's not your fault at all," I assure him, embracing him again and feeling his soft lips press to my neck.

"I know I say this all the time but you're so perfect."

"I love you."

"I love you so much," he repeats, eyes locking onto mine as he takes my hand and firmly hooks his little finger around mine. We spend the next hour or so simply talking, discussing everything we can think of. I tell him some mortifyingly humiliating stories from my childhood that has us both in stitches from laughing so hard, and he does the same, except he also discusses some of the worst beatings and things his dad has said to him that he'll never forget.

At about 1AM, we're laying in complete silence, bar the tweeting of birds around us and the occasional hoot of an owl. "Han," Harry catches my attention quietly, his head tilting to look at me.

"Hm?"

"Treehouse sex?"

"Is that even a question?" I laugh shortly, flipping so I was straddling him, my legs by his hips and my back straight. His teeth sink into his bottom lip and I can feel his already growing erection pressing into me. "Have you ever had sex in here before?"