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At the sound of Harry's scream, both Ethan and Simon come running, entering the open-plan kitchen from different rooms in the large suite.
"What- holy shit!" Ethan interrupts himself, staring wide-eyed at the blazing fire that's currently swallowing up a good seventy percent of the kitchen.
"How'd you do that?" Simon asks of Harry, partially demanding, partially panicked.
"I didn't!" Harry defends himself, stuttering messily over an explanation, "I-I come to make my-my-s-self a drink, o-only to find th-this! I had no-nothing to do w-with i-it!"
Whilst the three talk, the smoke alarm continues to bleep incessantly, having gone off some time before Harry's scream, but inaudible from the rooms the boys had previously been in. The blaring noise masks their speech, irritating their ear drums but alerting the hotel staff at the same time.
"Excuse me, excuse me!" A staff member suddenly comes toddling through hastily, his face covered by a small, simple gas mask. The covering seems appropriate for such a large fire.
The man is tall, not bulky but clearly strong. He moves to stand in front of Harry, gently warding him back. He doesn't stop until all of the boys have left the kitchen.
The friends are then guided out of the hotel room completely, and at the same time a different man and woman enter the hotel room, these ones armed with the equipment to actually put out the fire and find out what caused it.
Left to wait outside their room alone, the men stand in silence for about a minute before anyone actually speaks.
It's Simon who speaks first, saying something along the lines of what they're all thinking, his tone hush with a hint of amazement in it, "They've got a whole on-site fire department going on. What the fuck."
"I was just thinking that," Comes from Ethan at the same time as, "That's actually quite cool, y'know," does from Harry.
It's a good ten minutes until the three workers finally exit the hotel room, the first man's arms laden with the Sidemen members' bags.
"I'm afraid the room's no longer inhabitable for now," is the first thing the man holding their bags says as he places them on the floor - it's a good thing none of them had taken anything out of them yet.
"The gas was left on (unsupervised) for too long, which is what enabled the fire. Most likely the actual flame was caused by a light or something being turned on, it's as easy as that in this situation. It's not safe for anyone to reside in there until it's all aired out. Plus, the kitchen is all charred, so that needs to be fixed."
"Oh, right," Ethan lets out, the words released breathily, laced with confusion. "What are we supposed to do then?"
"You'll have to go down to the reception and ask for a replacement room. Have you used the kitchen yourselves at all?" When Harry shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowed, the worker nods. "Okay, so it was likely a mistake on the chef's part."
More baffled than anything else, the three friends each pick up their own bag from the floor, making their way down to reception slowly, mostly silent the whole way down.
Down at the front desk, the three are greeted by a cheery brunette woman, who seems all too happy to help and far too apologetic.
"We've had a few issues with that particular room's stove for a few weeks now, but none this extreme," she tells them, typing something into her computer and clicking the mouse as she does whatever it is she's doing. "I'm afraid we're all out of rooms of that standard, at the minute," she tells them carefully, her eyes flicking up to them as if expecting an angry outburst. That particular thought doesn't sit right with any of them. She clicks a few more times with her mouse, types at the keyboard with a little more urgency. "My apologies. We're quite busy this time of the year - we're going to have to downgrade you."
"That's completely fine," Harry tells her. His words and then Simon and Ethan's agreeing nods appear to calm her immensely.
"We'll literally take anything you've got," Simon adds, to which Ethan supplies a broom closet joke.
"Well, I can assure you it'll be bigger than a broom closet," she promises them, daring a wink. It's soothing to the boys that she's now at ease enough to joke with them a little bit. "And you'll be fully refunded for the cost difference... which between you and me, is quite vast." At the end, she tacks on a, "Too vast," which is barely audible, little more than a murmur as it is.
From beneath her desk she collects two key cards and from behind her she collects a wooden hotel key chain, a small metal key attached to the chain. She hands them over to Simon, who stands directly in front of her with the younger two on either side of him.
"Two room keys, just in case, since there are three of you, and the key to the balcony." She informs them as Simon takes the keys.
They thank her diligently, only parting from her after she tells them the room is on the third floor, room eleven. The first door, which means it's beyond easy to locate.
~•~
It's evident how much smaller this new room is in comparison to their previous one, but it is no way small. It's still prestigious, despite being one of the hotel's cheapest rooms.
The suite has a kitchen, just like the other one did, though it is a tad bit smaller. Barely. If it wasn't for Ethan's over-keen eye in this moment, then neither Simon nor Harry would have realised so by themselves.
There's still a balcony, though this one is smaller and without a pool, which means they'll have to travel down to the hotel pool if they fancy a swim at any point during their stay here. There's a fancy bathroom, no office, but the table near the kitchen is nicer, in Harry's opinion. (After Harry verbalises his opinion, Simon takes a moment to really look at the table, before coming to the same conclusion; the table in this suite is nicer.)
The biggest difference, honestly, is probably the fact that this suite only has one bedroom. Inside, there is one double bed and one single bed.
"Are we gonna play for the double?" Harry asks, feeling it unfair to use the same scoring as the last room.
The other two nod, but Simon makes no move to do anything about the decision. Ethan, at least, does a spin before staying where he is rather than moving.
"You two play, I'll just share the double with the winner." Simon says, half expecting protest from at least one, if not both, of his friends.
Harry doesn't say a word, but Ethan opens his mouth as if he's going to say something, only to close it instead.
"Nah, you know what, that's fair."
Harry nods along with Ethan's words, following the older men out of the room and back into the posh kitchen.
Eventually, the three finally settle on a game for Harry and Ethan to play, though when they play the proceedings are by no means fair. Simon very obviously hinders Ethan, though he still tries to act sly, even after both Harry and Ethan point it out to him.
"Aw, unlucky, Ethan." Simon grins, his eyes teasing. He brings an arm up slowly to pat Ethan on the shoulder, the action nothing if not condescending.
Ethan scowls, rubbing his arse which is - probably - sore, or gearing up to be if it isn't already. "Mate, if you wanted to sleep with Harry, you could have just said so."
Harry chokes, even though they all know Ethan doesn't mean it in the way it sounds.
Simon, on the other hand, doesn't grace Ethan with a response. He merely grins again, his expression taking on a level of cheek that inspires the need within Ethan to slap Simon. He, by no small amount of effort, resists the urge.
~•~
That night, they all head to bed at the same time. Ethan climbs into the single bed clad in only his boxers, whilst Harry does the same in the double bed.
Simon lingers out of bed slightly longer than the other two, having not immediately stripped himself of his clothing when he entered the room.
As Simon ponders, Harry watches him from the middle of the double bed, tucked safely beneath the duvet.
The night is warm, which is why Harry can tell Simon, "You might be a bit warm if you go to bed in all that," and get away with it. Simon smirks at him, seeing his words for what they are, but otherwise doesn't acknowledge that he so much as heard Harry.
When Simon finally climbs into bed, forcing Harry to shuffle backwards to make enough room, he's still wearing his top and shorts.
"You're so lame, Minter," Harry whispers, though there's no real heat behind his words. He and Simon are laying face to face, their faces mere inches apart.
"G'night boys," Ethan mumbles, receiving two low, quiet replies from the other bed; one after the other.
~•~
It's not long after Ethan falls asleep that he wakes up, naively thinking for a second that it's actually morning. A glance to the still-curtained windows quickly debunks that assumption.
"Simon," he hears from the other bed, barely a metre away from him. "Simon," says Harry's voice, again, resulting in Ethan's furrowed eyebrows.
After that, Harry doesn't speak again, but Ethan can clearly hear his laboured breathing, his stuttered breaths and hiccupped moans. His nose scrunches when he realises what is happening, refusing to turn over. He stubbornly keeps his back turned towards his friends in the other bed.
Momentarily, Ethan wonders why he can't also hear Simon, but he diminishes that thought before it gets the chance to fester.
Grumbling inaudibly, Ethan squeezes his eyes shut. It doesn't take long before he's slipping back into dreamland.
~•~
The second time Ethan wakes, he doesn't let his mind fool him into thinking he's gotten a full night's rest. Instead, he listens intently, smiling - despite his best efforts - at the giggling coming from the bed over.
He doesn't even try to stay awake, his blinking morphing into something much more, much deeper, without him realising it.
The smile doesn't once leave his face, not even when he's no longer conscious.
~•~
The third time Ethan rouses from his slumber, he spares a thought that this is getting ridiculous. It was sweet the second time, but he really doesn't need to know how Simon sounds when he comes. Nor how Harry sounds when he begs, however amusing Ethan personally finds the situation.
"... S-Simon, I-"
Groaning, Ethan forces himself out of bed. He stands with a hunched back, his hand scratching at his stomach as he walks the small distance from his single bed to the shared double. His eyes stay half open the entire time.
Quite rudely, if you were to ask Harry or Simon, Ethan allows himself to topple forwards onto the huge bed. He climbs up, pushing and pulling until he successfully forces himself between his two friends.
"That's enough, boys," he says, not receiving a response during the time that he's awake. From the shock of his actions, most probably.
~•~
"Stay," Ethan warns, sternly, the forth time. He rolls over onto his side in order to face Harry, in order to show his younger friend his unimpressed stare.
Harry pauses, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, like a puppy scorned for getting into the cat's food bowl. His leg is still thrown over Ethan's hip, his attempt to reach Simon obviated. He pouts, his eyes pleading for his own way. To be fair to him, he quite often gets it with Ethan.
"I just wanna cuddle with him," he whines.
"No. You can cuddle me instead."
At the same time as Harry huffs and buries his head in Ethan's chest, long, faintly muscled arms wrap around Ethan from behind. Simon's breath in his ear is hot as he leans in to whisper, "You're a dickhead, you know that?"
"Yes," Ethan shrugs, unapologetically. He has no reason to be sorry, nor guilty. There's not enough room in this cramped bed for any regret.
"At least you're aware." Harry mutters sullenly. As if as an afterthought, he adds, "Ya bastard."
~•~
The fifth time Ethan wakes up, by his body's own means, a quick glance to the curtained windows informs him that it's light outside, which means it is finally morning. He doesn't know what time, and his phone is too far away to check, but it's obviously some time after dawn since the sun is up.
Ethan has never claimed not be a vengeful man, which is why he has no shame in leaning in close to Harry's ear, nibbling briefly at his best friend's earlobe before moaning loudly in his ear.
"Simon!" He moans, his eyes twinkling with unrepressed glee, "Oh, oh, Simon - there, right there! That's it, fuck, oh,"
Harry wakes abruptly, his usually bright eyes dim and shielded. His eyebrows are furrowed, his nose scrunched distastefully. He tires to shuffle backwards, away from Ethan's slow, strained humping, but there's not enough room on the bed to do so. Ethan just about manages to grab him in time, preventing him from falling off the bed.
"What the fuck," Comes from behind him, Simon's body heat suddenly ripped away from him as the taller man pulls back voluntarily. Thin arms unwrap themselves from around him. "Ethan, just what are you doing?"
Peering over Ethan, as well as down beneath the duvet, the tension leaves Harry when he realises he misunderstood what was happening. If a pang of guilt didn't echo around in his chest, then Ethan would find the shift humorous.
"You dick!" Harry yells, pushing harshly at Ethan's chest with both hands. "Why would you do that?"
Ethan only shrugs at Harry's demanding question, choosing not to answer politely. "Felt like it, didn't I? You two kept me up half the night," a bit of an exaggeration, but the other two don't need to know that.
"Oh, Harry-" Harry interrupts Ethan's continued fake moaning by slapping his arm, and not lightly.
"Come 'ere, Haz," Simon prompts softly, ignoring both Ethan's behaviour and Harry's retaliation.
Grinning, perhaps a tad evilly, down at Ethan, Harry climbs over his friend without a word, though he does make sure his heel makes pressured contact with the back of Ethan's knee as he does.
"Whoops," he says against Simon's neck, smiling, as he hears Ethan huffs out a pained sound. "I'm so clumsy!"
Simon chuckles, using both hands to guide Harry's face away from his neck, shivering unnoticeably as Harry's lips move away from the pale skin there. He brings Harry in for a kiss, both of his large hands on either side of Harry's face.
During the kiss, the pair continuously shuffle backwards, ignoring Ethan's protest as they budge him further and further towards the edge of the bed.
Suddenly, Ethan finds himself falling. He now no longer rests on the side of the double bed; rather, he's lying on the ground, winded. His body makes a nice thud sound as it collides with the wooden flooring of the bedroom.
"Well-" Ethan mentally flounders for something to say, "fuck you both. Go and fuck yourselves. Fucking-"
Ethan goes to continue, except he goes absolutely silent at Simon's mumbled words, "Don't mind if we do."
Ethan doesn't bother leaving the room, or even standing up. He lies on the floor with his arms crossed, listening with one ear as his friends put on a show he can't see and exaggerate their noises, their cries, just to irk him.
"This is the last time I do anything nice for the two of you," Ethan announces when he thinks they're done.
"Shut it, Ethan." Simon tells him, dropping a pillow on him from on top of the bed. "You're detrimental to our relationship; you'd actually be doing us a favour if you did nothing."
Still sounding sleepy, Harry adds, "But you haven't even done anything nice yet."
Ethan doesn't respond. Instead, he stands from his position on the floor, heading for the bedroom door. As he walks, he holds out his arm the entire time, his middle finger aimed at the two men sprawled out on the bed.
Neither care, preferring to lose themselves in their cuddles than pay attention to Ethan's odd (to put it nice and simple) antics.