Chapter 9: Men Can Cry Too
Tristan woke up as he felt something moving on top of him. He then freaked out when he felt something rubbing his chest under the blanket. Not thinking it was Mia as his little bun didn’t go to his room to sleep, he slowly uncovered his chest and cried out a little. It wasn’t just something, it was a pale long hand. It was rubbing his chest while the other was wrapped tightly on his waist. He felt the hands’ owner breathing on his neck, dipping their face on it.
He moved away lightly to confirm his guess. And fuck! It was really Harris, hugging him on his bed. And he was fucking on top of him, sleeping like a child. He was in between his legs as he could feel the friction between their cock.
‘When did he come here and why was he here?’
Harris stirred, moving his hands as if finding something. He was about to stand up when Harris threatened him after he didn’t move again to his side. Still confused, he let the pale man yank him and he sprawled beside his sleeping figure; only to find they were in an uncomfortable position.
It was so hard to sleep again having someone on his bed, a man, gripping tightly on his waist.
Instead of going back to sleep, he kept on staring at Harris’ deep slumber who was embracing him like he was a pillow. There were minutes when Harris whimpered or murmured something in his sleep. He found himself raking his locks to prevent him from waking up.
He almost got crazy thinking about what was happening. Until morning came.
He gradually got up, avoiding waking up the pale man. Mia asked about Harris first when he saw her standing outside the room with a teddy bear in her arms. She asked her to go outside first as he didn’t want her to catch a fever too.
After a minute, the pale man woke up not remembering why he was in his room. He thanked his inner self because of that. At least they wouldn’t feel awkward. He went outside the room and came back after a minute of calling his friends that he couldn’t make it to the school.
He froze on his feet, on his bed was Harris, sleeping. But dry tears were apparent on his cheeks. Why did he cry?
He lightly sat down near the pale man. He didn’t know why but he felt the urge to caress his hair. His hand went down to his cheeks, slowly wiping the dry tears. He then hummed a song as if wanting the pale man to sleep deeply to forget the reason for his tears. He didn’t realize he fell asleep too until a warm hand poked his left cheek.
“Hm.” He groaned a little. He had a sleepless night as he stayed all night, watching Harris again. It had been two fucking sleepless nights.
“You’re too heavy. You might crash me into thin pieces.” A hoarse voice winced below him.
He quickly opened his eyes. His face constantly flushed, he was on top of Harris. Literal having his weight above him. He froze again feeling the smack on his head.
“Get off me. I can’t breathe!” Harris hissed and wriggled below him.
He rolled beside the pale man, rubbing his head. He glared at Harris as he was loving to smack his head. “I couldn’t believe you! I helped you all night just to receive a beating!”
“Why are you on top of me?” The pale man asked instead, rolling his eyes.
“I fell asleep, okay? Sorry about that.” He murmured. He bit his tongue to avoid himself from discussing what happened last night.
Harris narrowed his eyes.
“What now? I’m telling the truth.” He was kind of irritated when he noticed Harris’ reaction. He had the look that he was rape or something.
“You just said sorry. Wow, first time!” Harris exclaimed, placing his hands on his chest.
He raised his eyebrows. Harris was really the most fucking confusing person he had ever know. Mood swing? Because he was mad at first and now he was fucking laughing over him.
He got the chance to scan the pale man. Harris was laughing so hard, not to mention he had teary-eyes, grasping his stomach. ‘Fucking dickhead’ He was making fun of him.
‘But hey! I like how he laughs, he’s beaming.’
Harris stopped laughing when he perhaps noticed that he was gawking at him. “What?”
“You should laugh more, it suits you.” He grinned.
He saw a blush trailed on his cheeks down to his throat. He counted one to three and waited for his smack but Harris did otherwise.
“Fuck you!” Harris punched him in his arms.
“I already fucked you many times…” He then wiggled his eyebrows and continued. “...in my mind.”
Harris narrowed his eyes and paled. “Dirty-minded dickhead!” He picked the pillow and smashed it right to his face.
An audible laugh echoed in the room. His shoulders were shaking as he regained his position. “Nope, I just have a sexy imagination.”
He stopped laughing when Harris looked at him intently, leaning forward, not breaking their stare.
Not knowing the reason, his heart beats fast as Harris leaned closer again, enough to feel his breath smacking his face. ‘Fuck! Too early! Too early for flirting. Stop beating fast, poor heart.’
He moved away, could no longer stand their awkward position. Changing the topic quickly, he asked Harris. “Anyway, why did you always lock up after having a little talk with Mia or me? Or after you cooked?” He asked full of curiosity. He hoped he could have his answer now.
Long silent. Then he heard Harris sighed, his head hanging low. He thought he wouldn’t answer so he sat up and got ready to take off the bed. But Harris grabbed his wrist. ‘Like he always does’
Harris looked up and said, “Mourning.” One word. Just one word but he felt the pain, sadness, and guilt behind it as he looked into Harris’ golden orbs.
“M-Mourning to?” He sat on the bed again not minding Harris’ hand on him as he felt him gripped hard.
“I am still mourning for my grandma’s death. It’s just—It’s . . .I am feeling guilty and sad because I was not there on her last day. She means so much to me. What kind of grandson I am, right? It hurts! I chose my career here over her. If only I could turn back time. Fuck! I’m so ambitious!”
Harris’ sudden outburst made him stiff. He didn’t know that there was a big reason behind his actions for the past week.
He was shocked when Harris lunged on his lap, gripping his shirt tightly like asking for support. He heard sobs and sniffs after. He didn’t know how to comfort a crying man but his hands unconsciously made way to Harris’ back—rubbing lightly up and down. Harris cried louder and he was startled, thinking if he had done wrong or what.
“Hey, I don’t know how to comfort you but don’t cry.” That was the best option he only had. “Men don’t cry.”
“Men are human too. Humans tend to cry to ease something deep inside them.”
He almost chuckled at their conversation. Harris was crying but still found a way to talk back like he always did.
He thought wisely before his words came out from his mouth. “For sure she understands you. And she’ll be sad if she sees you like this. You have to be strong for her. I know she’s happy for you because you’re pursuing your dream.” He said, still patting his back.
Harris looked upon him, and he silently cursed. He felt something stung his heart seeing his tears. He wanted to wipe those tears away.
“H-How did you know that she is happy for me?” Harris asked with his low, innocent voice.
He scratched his back head. He meant those words as figurative and consoling, not literal. And for Harris’ condition now, he didn’t know if he was just teasing him or not. “I can see ghosts, you know? Actually, she’s behind you now. She said you look ugly.”
A loud and painful smack reached his head, almost dropping off his head. “Fuck you!” Harris hissed.
‘Damn! Why did he love smacking me? I could be stupid for this!’
He gave the pale man a silent treatment. But not long after, he heard a snore from him. Harris was resting his right cheek on his chest, arms clinging on his neck and his legs were wrapped to both sides of his waist. ‘Looks like a Koala’ He never knew when this happened to them, being touchy and all to each other.
‘Oh, it’s just only Harris, not me!’
When he felt cramps, he tucked the pale man on his bed—again. ‘Whose room is this again?’ He asked himself. He checked his fever first and when he found that his fever was already gone, he left him a note that he needed to do something for a while.
“Little bun, I need to go outside. Your P’Harris is already okay. Just wake him up when it strikes 12, you both need to eat. Wait, is it okay for you not to come with me for now?” He asked Mia. He found her doing some drawings in the living room.
“Yes Phi, it’s okay. P’Harris might need me. I need to take care of him.” She answered without glancing at him.
‘Oh. I’m jealous!’ He pouted.
He patted his niece and gave her instructions not to go outside without someone.