[It's a body that he's spent a long time ignoring. Starving it, freezing it, exhausting it - survival meant going to sleep pretending it was okay, that you didn't notice, until everything was just a haze you worked through. His time in the manor hasn't fixed everything - the long, ugly scars on his forearms aren't going anywhere - but at least he isn't hurting all the time.
Tim is drawing pleasure from him, and it's both confusing and intoxicating. He reacts to everything like it's brand new, murmuring at the brush of fingers, groaning at the scrape of nails. His own hands find purchase in Tim's hair when the other moves to press his face to Harry's chest.]
Thank you. It's--
[He isn't expecting Tim to slip off of him, and he looks at him with perfect confusion as he settles on the floor.]
cw: suicide mention
Tim is drawing pleasure from him, and it's both confusing and intoxicating. He reacts to everything like it's brand new, murmuring at the brush of fingers, groaning at the scrape of nails. His own hands find purchase in Tim's hair when the other moves to press his face to Harry's chest.]
Thank you. It's--
[He isn't expecting Tim to slip off of him, and he looks at him with perfect confusion as he settles on the floor.]
Tim? What are you doing? Are you alright?