Harry sighed, stopped. Not like he had much choice. Street was a bit crowded to cross. "Fine. I'm stopped. But I'm fucked if I'm listening to a word you say. I saw what I saw." "Christ, it didn't mean anything, alright?" Karl raked a hand through his hair, winced when a ragged nail snagged the ends. "It didn't." "Then why'd you do it?" "I don't know." Harry's bark of laughter was short, devoid of humor. "You don't know. Well, that's just fucking great. Really. I catch you kissing on your ex lover and you 'don't know' why you did it. Pardon me while I restrain my sympathy." Karl winced again, pain reflecting out of hazel eyes -- not that Harry gave a good goddamn. "Look, I'm sorry. I just..." "Just weren't quite finished getting him out of your system. I get it. Have fun." Harry made a move to side-step Karl and stopped when Karl stepped with him, once again blocking his progress. "What is it?" Harry asked, shoulders slumping, feeling every inch his years. Crazy, fucking, middle-aged...ah well. Not like he hadn't known this day was coming again. "I'm finished," Karl said, stepping closer, voice dropping in that purr that never failed to make Harry's cock hard, blood thick. "I'm with you now. Remember? Chose you?" Harry smiled to keep from screaming. "You only chose me because he couldn't make up his mind about what he wanted. I was the default. 'Good old Harry -- he'll take me back.' Thanks for the favor you did me." "Fuck you." Harry had time to reflect on the irony that he was the one now following Karl, stopping him with a few well-chosen words. "I hit too close to home? You weren't good enough for him, so you crawl back to the one person you knew would take you back." Karl whirled around, hands clenched into fists. "You wanna know why I fucked him, Harry? Why I left you, crawled in his bed and didn't look back? That what you want?" "Be nice for a start." Harry refused to acknowledge the acid each word leaked into his soul. "Because he wanted me. Not some fucking trophy." "Trophy? The fuck are you on about?" "Figure it out." Harry grabbed Karl before he could take off again, fingers digging into muscled flesh. "You were never a trophy. And don't you fucking blame me for the fact that you fucked him. If things weren't working with us, you should've said something. I can't read your goddamn mind." Karl glared pointedly at Harry's hand -- Harry ignored it. "I don't want to have this conversation." "Tough. You're the one that brought it up." Karl took a deep breath, tried to pry Harry's fingers off his arm. "I fucked him, I realized my mistake, and I came back to you. Am I gonna have to apologize for it for the rest of my life?" "No." Harry dropped his hand, already feeling the chill along his fingers, around his hand, up his arm. With any luck, it would numb his heart before it finished shattering. "Just until you convince me you mean it." "I'm never going to convince you I mean it." "Then I hope the two of you are happy with each other," Harry whispered, taking a step back. It would have been easy to drop his gaze, to focus on anything other than the disbelief and reproach in Karl's eyes. But Harry wasn't a coward. He would face this head-on, eyes open. "I don't want him," Karl said, holding out a hand. It hung -- a promise, a plea -- in the air for a few timeless moments before Karl dropped it with a sigh. "Alright." "Yeah. Alright." This time, when Harry walked away, Karl made no move to stop him.
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