Harry didn't tell Sirius he was hurt.
He didn't tell his guardian that inside he was breaking, shattering into a thousand pieces and the only way he could cope was trying to find some control in the chaos that was his life, so he controlled his meals, he ate precise portions and threw up in silence precisely an hour after every meal and ignored Molly Weasley's cry of him being a skinny, growing boy, because he didn't want to grow anymore he didn't want to feel that pain that came with growing up.
Harry didn't tell Sirius how much his kisses hurt
He didn't tell his lover that those little whispers in his ear and kisses came with a price because when Sirius had Harry pinned Harry against the bed and fucked him until he bled he whispered James' name and it killed him tore his already fragile heart into little pieces and made him want to kick and scream...but he stayed silent and let Sirius have his way, he lay back and allowed Sirius to get on with it even when he found Sirius with Remus more than once, sloppy drunken kisses that meant nothing according to Sirius but Harry knew different and pretended he had forgotten, that he hadn't seen the look between his Father's best friends as their hands touched and their eye's met and he drowned, forgotten in the shadows
Harry didn't tell Sirius what the cuts felt like
He didn't tell his world that the little malicous voices and the emptiness his heart felt caused the razor to touch his wrists, he didn't tell him the droplets of blood were the physical sign of the overwhelming pain filling him to the brink and then spilling, until he was empty and the feelings he had once felt were laid out on his pale skin staining it red.
Harry didn't tell Sirius about the first time he had tried to commit suicide
He didn't tell the man who said he loved him that the pills hadn't worked, somehow his magic had negated the effects of the chemical's in his body, he couldn't tell Sirius about the greyness of the world around him, colours seemed pale in comparism to the shadows that now consumed his world both filling him with feeling and stealing it away, the shadows taking his heart and caressing it.
Harry didn't tell Sirius he was a nasty drunk
He didn't tell his best friend how his punch left flower like bruises along his body and how he would be humiliated forced to undress and move around naked, how he wasn't allowed to talk and his eye's had to be covered by sunglasses so Sirius could pretend he was James Potter, he didn't tell about the times Sirius had stumbled into the house- three in the morning smelling of ciggerettes and Remus- and if Harry was asleep he would drag the covers down and run his hands down Harry's body waking him up and then if Harry objected he would brutally rape him and hit him, calling him a whore or slut screaming at him that he wished James had survived and Harry was dead- why was Harry not James?
Harry didn't tell Sirius he wished he had died that night instead of Ron and Hermione
He didn't tell his torturer that it hurt so much sometimes he wanted to scream and the images of Hermione choking on her blood as Ron tried to save her before being hit by an Avada Kedavra and fell on top of her haunted his dreams twisting them into darkness, he stayed silent because screaming required an energy he didn't have from the tears he kept crying
Harry didn't tell Sirius that he was possessive and controlling and Harry had broken so much
And the tears dried up, he felt numb- so numb, he just faded through life- like a ghost, Sirius' bruises covering his chest and arse, his own cuts littering his arm marring his pale skin, dark hair cascading beautifully around an empty face and dead emerald eye's- his mother's eye's- Sirius' kisses only meant so much when he tasted like chocolate- when he tasted like Remus.
Harry didn't tell because Sirius didn't care and Harry was so tired
The consuming, overwhelming, seductive darkness drowned him and he was born again as another man's lips touched his.
Another man fucked him. Another man teased him. Another man claimed him. Another man healed him.
Another man loved him.
And the other mans kisses were long and they were beautiful and Harry couldn't believe the beauty that came from the three simple words
"I love you."
Three simple unassuming words a jumbled collections of symbols with an added meaning that could move mountains and his simple reply of Thank you was more than enough for him.
The boy-who-lived.
The boy-who-was-abused
The boy-who-fell-in-love-with-the-wrong-man
The boy-who's-whole-world-was-destroyed
The boy-who-is-the-Dark-Lord's-consort.
And the three simple little worlds taught the boy-who-lived to destroy the world.
Harry didn't tell Sirius as he stared down at his past lover and carer's broken body because his lovers lips had touched his neck softly as spells and curses were thrown at Padfoot the man-who-broke-Harry's-heart by the man-who-had-fixed-him.
Screw the consequences
Amor Vincit Omnia
So yeah, my first oneshot...well ever so :)