Collecting Harry's things from Tony’s is possibly the greatest moment of James’ life.
“Try not to be too much of a smug twat,” Harry says, watching James knock enthusiastically on the door.
“I wouldn't,” James replies, not even vaguely insulted. His face is starting to ache a little from the smile that's been on his face the last couple of days.
Since Harry chose him.
Diane opens the door and James can feel Harry deflate slightly at how tired she looks. He settles his hand at the small of Harry's back, thumb stroking softly, and is pleased to see Harry’s shoulders straighten again.
“Harry,” Diane sniffs already on the brink of tears. James tries his best not to roll his eyes too hard. “I'm sorry, he can't come in.”
James laughs and gets an elbow in his ribs.
“We just came to get my stuff,” Harry says. “Please, Diane. I don't want to cause any trouble.”
“Well you should have thought of that before you ran off with him,” Tony says, appearing behind Diane suddenly like he'd been summoned into existence just to ruin James’ day.
“I won't be long,” Harry says, still with a pleading tone in his voice that James knows all too well. It took him years to let go of the desperation he had to make his dad love him.
Of course, Tony does love Harry, James supposes. Not enough, but more than Mac ever loved him.
“You could go out for half an hour and leave us to it,” James suggests, trying to be diplomatic for Harry's sake.
“As if I’d trust you alone in my house.”
James wants to point out that he wouldn't want to steal any of Tony’s cheap tat and that if he had his way, he and Harry would have just gone shopping to replace Harry’s things since he'd like to burn anything Ste touched anyway.
Instead, he gives Tony a tight smile.
“It'll be quicker with two of us.”
Tony looks like he wants to keep arguing but Diane nods so they're inside a second later.
Ste is on the sofa, arms folded over his chest, determinedly watching the TV. Harry stumbles at the sight of him and James catches his hand, gives it a brief squeeze before letting go.
They head towards Harry's old bedroom quickly and James closes the door behind them.
“They all hate me.”
James crowds in close behind him and settles his hands on Harry’s hips.
“They don’t hate you. It’s me they hate. I’m the one who seduced their darling boy away from them.”
“You’re loving this aren’t you?”
Harry laughs and leans his head back against James’ chest. “It’s not your fault.”
“Couldn’t help yourself, eh?” James slides his arms around Harry’s waist. “Can’t say I blame you.”
James tilts his head and kisses him softly; his hand brushes against Harry’s dick through his shorts.
“We can’t,” Harry says, though he doesn’t move away.
“My dad’s in there. And Ste.”
James works his hand under the waistband, curling around Harry’s stiffening cock.
“You want to though,” James whispers against his ear, enjoying the way Harry’s eyes flutter closed and the way he moans. “You want me to get down on my knees right here.”
“You’re twisted,” Harry says, but he’s smiling as he pushes into James’ fist. “We really can’t. We’re supposed to be packing.”
“How much do you really need?”
“For the last time,” Harry sighs, “I need clothes.”
“I beg to differ.”
The door opens suddenly behind them and they jump apart, Harry immediately kneeling to grab a suitcase from under the bed. James starts pulling the clothes he knows for a fact are Harry’s out of the drawers.
“Five minutes,” Tony says.
James wants to snap at him, spit every tiny bit of vitriol that’s been building up over the years back in his face. How dare he treat Harry this way? How dare he turn his back on him again?
“James,” Harry says quietly, drawing his attention. “Don’t.”
He won’t embarrass Harry again, or hurt his family, even if they deserve it. He turns back to the drawers to finish collecting the clothes.
“Is it the money?” Ste shouts from the living room. “It can’t be his personality.”
James ignores him, turns with an armful of clothes which he dumps in the now open suitcase lying on the bed.
“What else?” he asks quietly and Harry points to the bedside cabinet.
They’re alone again now, but the door is still open and Tony and Ste are arguing with each other, low enough that James can’t hear what they’re saying.
“It’s not true.”
“Of course it’s not,” James says, offering Harry a genuine smile. “The number of times I’ve tried to give you money...”
“I mean I have asked for it…”
“I’ve got plenty.”
“I know it’s not the money,” James says. “If I thought it was we wouldn’t be together.”
And even if that’s only partly true, James will never admit it.
“I love you.”
It doesn’t matter how many times Harry says it, James will never get tired of hearing it.
“I love you,” James assures him. “And I’ll love you, even more, when we get out of here and I don’t have to listen to them anymore.”
Harry smiles and reaches over to grasp James’ hand. “Thank you. For not saying anything.”
“Best behaviour. I promised.”
“And that means you get a reward when we get home.”
“I’ll have to be a good boy more often if I get rewarded every time.”
“Not too good though.”
They’ve been leaning closer and closer to each other as they spoke until they’re finally a hair’s breadth apart and James catches Harry’s mouth in a kiss.
Tony clears his throat behind them and they go back to packing the bag, finishing up in a couple of minutes. The fact that Harry’s life can fit into one suitcase and a backpack makes James doubly angry and he silently vows to spoil him rotten every chance he gets.
He follows Harry back through the apartment, pausing near the door when Harry turns to say goodbye. They don’t wait for a response though and Harry walks out ahead of him with his head held high. James has never been more proud of him.
“Alright?” he asks when they close the front door behind them.
“Yeah,” Harry says, taking hold of James’ hand and threading their fingers together. “Let’s go home.”