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Teddy knew what he was doing was wrong. He knew that he was making Hugo feel cheap and used and unbearably hurt. He knew that Hugo longed for the day when Teddy would embrace him in public, make it known that he loved Hugo. And he did love Hugo.
But how could he tell him that Hugo as his lover couldn't compete with his family. Hugo couldn't take the place of Uncle Harry, the only father he had ever known. His caress couldn't replace Aunt Hermione, who was the only reason he'd managed to pass his Auror's exams.
Hugo's heated flesh couldn't replace Aunt Ginny's soft words of encouragement and commiseration, would never compare to Uncle Ron's quidditch rants.
Hugo's laughter would never fill the hole left by the loss of Lily's giggle's when he made funny faces. His smile would not replace James' smug grin when returning home from a date.
How could he tell Hugo that his love simply wasn't enough to make the loss of his whole world worthwhile? As he sat, flirting with a woman who in truth held no attraction for him, he swore that he would never let it happen again.
But he knew it would, it always did. Because Teddy was his own worst enemy.