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The music was thumping loudly in Ethan's ears as he and Harry were making their way across the room to the bar. Harry, in front of him, wasn't quite steady on his feet anymore and was perilously swaying as he walked. Ethan tried to reach out to steady him but there were too many people and he already had a hard enough time squeezing past them.
Harry apparently had an even harder time seeing as he stumbled right into a group of blokes. To keep himself from falling he grabbed onto one of their arms. But with that, he not only made him drop the pint he was holding but also stepped right onto his white creps.
Ethan grimaced. This wouldn't end well. And he was absolutely right.
A look of rage instantly crossed the guy's face. "What the fuck, bruv?!"
And Harry, in his drunken state, just shot an apologetic smile at him. Which unfortunately came across as a smug smirk to people who didn't know drunk Harry. Ethan realised this too late though. When he tried to open his mouth to apologise in Harry's place, a fist was already flying towards Harry's face. It landed with a crunch. Fuck!
Harry stumbled backwards and Ethan rushed over to keep him from falling over. He was holding his cheek, a perplexed look on his face. Ethan gently removed his hand from the spot and found a small cut on his cheekbone that was bleeding. Motherfucker!
Anger boiled up inside Ethan. How dare someone hurt Harry! Harry never meant anyone harm. Why would you take an accidental stumble so personally?
“Are you alright?”, he asked. Harry just nodded in a drunken stupor.
Taking Harry’s assent as a sign that he was capable of standing on his own, Ethan turned around to the now snickering group. They were apparently congratulating themselves on how bloody cool they were. Wankers!
With much more force than necessary, Ethan shoved the culpable man and barked, “What was that for, you divvy cunt!”
He would have added a punch to the shove, but the guy’s mates got in between them. While struggling against them, he continued shouting abuse at the guy.
Feeling safe behind a wall of his friends, the bloke retorted, voice dripping with condescension, “Tell your boyfriend to watch where he puts his feet next time.”
Fuck this guy! Ethan finally freed himself from the people trying to hold him back and landed a satisfying punch right in the arsehole’s face. Damn, that felt good.
Before the other man could retaliate, Ethan felt strong arms wrapping around his chest from behind and pulling him away. Security had caught on to the situation and the guard was now sternly explaining to him, that they could continue the fight outside or leave. Frustrated, Ethan held up his hands in surrender and hissed, “Fine, fine, we were leaving anyway, no need for force.”
The security guard just stared at him, unimpressed and waited. With a last dirty look in the direction of the bloody chav, he grabbed a still dazed Harry and stormed out of the crowded bar.
He was still fucking fuming. Looking at the state of Harry’s face in the streetlight didn’t make it any better. “Arsehole,” he muttered to himself as he inspected the injury. “Does it hurt?”
“Just a little”, Harry said quietly. The blood had already crusted over and formed a dark red line on his cheekbone. It was just a small cut, but Ethan couldn’t resist brushing his thumb over it. It felt hot to the touch. Harry's eyes met his worried gaze. And then slipped down to his lips.
Quickly, Ethan pulled away. The boyfriend-remark from earlier still echoed in his head. To conceal it, he added, “He was probably wearing a ring. There wouldn’t be a cut otherwise. And you’re definitely going to have a purple cheek tomorrow.”
“At least I can finally brag about having been in a proper bar brawl,” Harry joked. The ‘proper bar brawl’ sounded more like ‘whopper-bore-ball’ and he was still swaying a little. There was no point trying to get back into the bar. Also, Ethan really didn’t feel like being here anymore.
“Let’s get a cab. This night’s in the bin anyway.” It was only twelve-thirty on a Saturday, but Ethan’s mood was completely ruined.
The car pulled up a few minutes later. Harry fell asleep pretty much immediately once they got in the back. Ethan gave the driver Harry’s address. He would just sleep in Harry and Cal’s spare room, which wasn’t an unusual occurrence, but he wanted to make sure Harry got home alright.
When they arrived, Ethan had to remove a very sleepy Harry from his shoulder.
“Keys”, Ethan demanded in a whisper as they got out. Taking the offered house key from Harry, he opened the door to their dark entry room. There was light coming from the living room though. “Cal?”
Calfreezy stuck his head out of the door. “Back already?”
Ethan ignored the question. “Do you have some ice?”
“Ice?” Confusion showed on his face. As soon as Harry stepped into the light though, it turned to alarm. “Lord, what happened to his face?”
“Some chav happened. Do you have ice now?” Ethan repeated impatiently.
Harry had managed to wrestle off his shoes and jacket and now slinked past Ethan to the couch. “We don’t have a freezer,” he answered in Cal’s stead and sat down.
Cal opened the fridge door. “I can offer cold beer?” He held out a glass bottle for Ethan to take it to Harry. He took it and gently placed it on Harry’s cheek, causing him to wince.
“So what did you do to deserve this?”, Cal inquired curiously.
Harry seemed too preoccupied with the pain to answer, therefore Ethan said, “Stepped on this bloke’s Yeezys.”
Cal laughed. “Oh yeah, that deserves a shiner. This is going to look pretty tomorrow.”
Harry sent an irritated grimace his way. “Fuck off.”
“Oh no, what are the fans going to think when you show up like this on the next Sidemen Sunday?”, Cal continued teasing him.
When Harry didn’t respond, he turned to Ethan. “I take it you’re sleeping here? The covers are in the top drawer of the dresser if you need it.” He held out his glass of water in a salute. “Gonna hit the hay now, good night you two.”
After Cal had gone to bed, Ethan procured another cold beer bottle for Harry. Both bottles stayed unopened, amazingly and Ethan put them back into the fridge when they decided it was time for bed as well. Though Harry was way soberer by now, Ethan still deemed it a good idea to make sure Harry got into his bed alright.
Totally exhausted, Harry barely bothered to take his hoodie off and slipped under the covers in his t-shirt and joggers.
He looked cosy, all snuggled up with his eyes shut tight. Ethan tried to leave the room and shut the door behind him quietly when he heard Harry mumble something. “Behz? Can you stay just a little? I am cold.”
Who was he to refuse the pleading look from such blue eyes? Ethan sighed and turned around, sitting down on the edge of Harry’s bed. He made a move to tuck Harry in more so he would warm up, but Harry lifted the cover as if telling him to get in.
Fine, if he insisted. Trying not to think about it too hard, Ethan lay down next to Harry and let him drape the blanket over him. Ethan settled in, lying stiffly on his side.
Harry didn’t have the same qualms and snuggled into Ethan’s chest. Ethan didn’t dare breathe for a moment. He keenly felt Harry's cheek pressing into his shoulder and his hand resting on his hip bone.
Now Ethan, behave! He allowed himself to carefully stroke Harry's blonde locks since he seemingly needed some comforting. He expected Harry to fall asleep right away anyway, so he wouldn’t have to worry too much.
However, when he looked down into Harry's face, he was staring back up at him. Ethan swallowed.
“Aren’t you tired?”, Ethan asked softly.
In lieu of an answer, Harry kissed him.
Ethan's brain stopped computing. All it registered were Harry's soft lips on his and Harry's hands on his body. They felt like they belonged there.
Before Ethan could process and reciprocate the kiss, Harry pulled away with a sharp inhale. “Sorry!” He looked haunted, his big eyes showing immediate regret.
Something inside his chest gave in and sent all his repressed feelings pouring out.
Harry didn’t understand. Ethan needed to make him. “Bog…” This one word, spoken tenderly, held everything Ethan meant to say. Everything he hadn’t wanted to admit to himself over the last few months. Like how he felt differently about Harry than all his other mates. But that just meant different in a best-friend type of way, right? Like how he wanted to protect Harry from any harm. How he wanted to keep him close at all times. How he wished him luck for dates but never really meant it. How he revelled in the moments Harry held onto him because he needed comfort. He hadn’t allowed himself to see it for what it was. That he was utterly in love with Harry.
Until now. Until Harry went against all his instincts and showed him what bravery was.
Gently, he grasped Harry's face in his hands. Looking into his eyes, so open and vulnerable, he couldn’t believe how he had managed to lie to himself for so long.
Ethan didn’t think words could do all the thoughts swirling around his mind justice, but maybe action could. So he kissed Harry, a familiar ache guiding his lips.
Harry let out a surprised little gasp, but quickly caught himself and melted into the kiss. The only things holding him upright were Ethan’s hands on his face. The kiss tasted of alcohol a little but mostly it tasted of Harry. A taste Ethan hadn’t known he adored so much.
They slowly sunk back into the pillows, Harry's hands wandering to Ethan's back. Ethan shuddered. Harry's touch set every one of his nerve endings on fire and he never wanted it to stop. He deepened the kiss and pulled Harry closer, keenly feeling Harry's body under his.
When they finally broke apart, both out of breath, Ethan just stared at Harry's face for a moment. His blue eyes big, his lips pink from kissing. Ethan couldn’t believe it was all his to kiss.
“Bog”, he said again because words failed him.
“Me too”, said Harry because he knew exactly what Ethan meant to say.
Relieved, Ethan sank down next to Harry, gently caressing his face. Harry burrowed himself into Ethan's shoulders, draping one leg over Ethan's so he could get as close as humanly possible. Ethan held him like that until he fell asleep, basking in the knowledge that this was a possibility, this was his future. What a wondrous concept.