You Didn't Get It Wrong

When Harris could move again at last, he pulled on a robe and made his way to the spare room. Joshua's wet clothes and wallet had migrated there from the bathroom, and though he had taken his phone, perhaps to call a friend, everything else was there still. Harris wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that Joshua had been sufficiently distraught to leave so many of his things behind.

On the one hand, Harris was terribly worried for him out there in borrowed, ill-fitting clothes. He was worried enough, in fact, to consider calling Joshua and telling him anything he might want to hear just to get him back into the house.

On the other, it meant that Joshua would have to come back eventually, and they would be able to talk.

But what- Harris thought miserably- did they really have to talk about? What had happened was already very clear. They both fundamentally misunderstood the relationship they had; neither of them would ever see the future they had imagined or retrieve what they had believed the two of them had shared in the past.

Harris leaned against the wall beside the bed, feeling like such a fool he could hardly believe it. None of this was Joshua's fault. Of course he had misunderstood Harris's interest- how could he not? The question Harris couldn't answer was how 'he' had misunderstood 'Joshua's.' For a while, Harris had managed- even with Joshua pressed up against him, kissing him- to believe that Joshua still saw him as a friend, even a father figure. He had managed to think that Joshua was merely giving Harris what he thought Harris wanted. But the broken look on his face before he ran… That was not the look of someone who was offering sex to a person they believed expected it- and it showed that Harris was more hung up on Joshua's past than he had believed that he had thought so, even for a moment. That was the look of someone who had just realized that the person they were in love with was not in love with them.

Their entire relationship replayed behind Harris's eyes in brilliant Technicolor, and what an idiot he had been. If he had not been himself, but an outside observer, he would never have thought for a second that the person he had spent so long trying to identify- the person Joshua wanted- had been anyone other than Harris himself.

When Joshua's aura first turned red- open, interested, ready- it had been Harris he looked at first, Harris he said hi to in that faintly awed tone, as if he had come out of a fog and seen him for the first time.

When Joshua's aura began to turn purple- the start of strong affection for a person in particular- it had been when Harris accepted that Joshua put Eliza first without question, when he was so good with her himself.

When Joshua's aura turned blue- affection turning into something stronger, deeper- it must have been at some point after the wedding, after all of Harris's assurances that all he cared about was Joshua's happiness.

When Joshua's aura began to turn green- wanting a relationship to last, believing it really could- it had been when Harris let him in despite his mood, asked him to stay and he must have thought-

When Joshua had smiled like that he must have thought-

Harris put his head in his hands, eyes almost prickling, and slumped against the wall before he slid down it and hit the floor.

'Ѕтαу.'

'Уσυ яєαℓℓу ∂ι∂и'т нανє тσ ѕℓєєρ σи тнє ¢συ¢н.'

'Αℓℓ Ι'м ѕαуιиg ιѕ тнαт ι gσт тнє нσυѕє αℓℓ тσ муѕєℓf. Уσυ ¢συℓ∂- уσυ ¢συℓ∂ ѕтαу.'

Six months… had it really been that long? Harris supposed it must have. And six months of dating was a long time to wait for a kiss- because Harris could remember, now- especially after Harris had made a more… sweeping declaration- all the times Joshua had expected, and wanted, Harris to kiss him. Six months was a long time to wait for more.

Harris's lips were still tingling from Joshua's kiss. He could still taste him there. Harris rose, gazing down at the bed. Before he went to Harris, Joshua had- at some point- lain there long enough to leave a very faint depression. Harris thought of the way that Joshua had looked when he came to him, all ruffled hair and soft smiles, never really doubting that Harris wanted him, only wondering why he was taking so long about it.

'Of course not,' Joshua had said when Harris explained that no, he had never seen him that way. 'Of course not.' Like he had been a fool all this while to think otherwise.

Harris's legs seemed to give out underneath him, so he lay down, face pressed into the pillow. It hardly smelled like Joshua at all, just the shampoo Harris kept in the spare bathroom. But he strained and he managed to find traces. How dearly he had loved Joshua's scent. How he had loved holding Joshua in his arms. How he had loved to be the one to remind Joshua how it felt to be touched gently.

And how he had loved seeing Joshua's beautiful heart unfolding for him.

His hands curled into fists. How Joshua felt about him wasn't the only thing that would have been as clear as day to Harris under different circumstances.

Under different circumstances- if Harris hadn't been what he was- Joshua would perhaps not have been wrong about him. Harris didn't know how they would have met- how they 'could' have met- but how could he have failed to want him? And even if he had intended only friendship, how long would it really have taken for him to kiss Joshua's lips rather than just his forehead or his hand- once he knew that that was what Joshua had wanted? And if Joshua had invited it, how long would it have been before he pressed that beautiful body into this bed and done everything, everything Joshua would permit? Surely not six months. Surely not as long as that. Not if he had 'known.'

Harris wasn't even sure that Joshua was wrong about him now. Oh, he had never for a second considered that there was more than friendship between them- but now that he did he would be lying if he claimed not to want it.

He hadn't known, until Joshua, how much he ached to touch and be touched. Just the same, he'd more or less forgotten about sex, hadn't put desire and himself in the same thought, until Joshua had reminded him. After all, the necessary equipment was still there, and judging by how every part of Harris pulled taut as bowstring at the thought of having Joshua touch him as a lover- and touching him in return- it was all in working order. That warm, lovely body had been on top of his, those soft lush lips pressed to his face, and he wanted them back. More than that, he just wanted, anything- everything- Joshua might be willing to give.

As he realized all this, Harris's first thought was that he should keep it to himself, allow the wall that had sprung up between them to stand. He would be taken away from Joshua, either assigned another charge or banished altogether- and surely, if Joshua had to get over Harris- and he 'had' to- wouldn't it be easier to do that not knowing that Harris had felt the same after all?

Harris dismissed the thought almost as soon as he had considered it. He remembered again how Joshua sounded saying 'of course not' like that. No. No matter how much it could hurt both of them in the long run, he couldn't bear for Joshua to doubt even for a moment that he deserved everything Harris could give him and more.

Harris sat bolt upright on the bed.

It was so forbidden it didn't even bear mentioning. It was so impossible that Harris had never considered the option. But he had fallen in love with Joshua- he just hadn't realized it until now.

He went back to his own bedroom, retrieved his mobile, and returned to the spare room, lying back on the cooling sheet as his call went to voicemail.

"Joshua," he said, looking at the ceiling above him. "I'm so sorry. You didn't get it wrong, I did. Please come back. Please."