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“So you’re the new flat mate?” Louis asks eyeing the bounce of curls in front of him. “Zayn wouldn’t let me do the interviews because he says I’m too judgmental.” He mentions bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Harry feels his heart start to rave because maybe Louis doesn’t like him and he will have to go back to the dorms with his roommate who smells like a baked Halloween pumpkin, and leaves his socks behind the door.
“I definitely think Zayn made the right choice this time, curly.” And then Louis bounces back over to the desk and leaves Harry to practice his breathing.
--
Harry doesn’t really try to make friends, it just kind of happens sometimes. And he is more than thankful that he moved into this new flat. Because Louis is always happy, and Zayn is really peaceful and likes to just read and think and smoke (a little contact high never hurt anybody right?). And Liam is the best, he likes to cook just like Harry does, and he likes to make sure everyone is out of the flat in the morning and on their way to classes.
And he’s really thankful for Louis, Zayn, and Liam’s friends too. The flat crossed the landing has two of their friends in it too, Niall a blond Irishmen who likes to kiss Liam sometimes but Harry isn’t quite sure if they’re dating or if this is just a thing they do. And Bay who lives with Niall and likes to let herself in in the morning in just a t shirt, and rummage through the already empty kitchen.
He’s not sure why he likes he, but she smells nice and she ruffles his hair when she passes him outside, and she hasn’t made any sort of pass at him.
And it’s nice.
--
Harry soon realizes that Bay doesn’t hit on him because she in fact has a boyfriend. His name is William and he’s built like a brick, he has jet black hair kind of like Zayns and he has the worst attitude.
“We’re all waiting for her to drop him.” Liam says one day in a café while they all wait for her arrival. “He’s just a dick.”
“Plus she doesn’t date—like never.” Niall adds nuzzling closer into Liam. “He shouldn’t get to be anything to her, not a first of anything.”
And so Harry realizes that it’s okay for him to think about her before he goes to sleep because her friends don’t even like who she’s dating, and maybe—if he’s really lucky—he’ll finally get to pursue someone, instead of being pursued.
--
Harry’s luck finally becomes more positive and a little negative for Bay, one night when they’re all out at the pub. It’s their group, William, two blondes he’s never met before and a red-head. Something tells him that Bay and this red-head don’t exactly get along, because she is distant and every time a word leaves the red-heads mouth Bay snickers under her breath.
But it isn’t until William speaks up about an hour into the night, that Harry finally starts to get interested.
“Guess who’s pants I finally got into!” He yells, gaining a few wandering eyes outside of the group. And Harry can all help but tense up next to him “she must not be the type of girl who’s very verbal about her sex life.” He thinks, that is until the red-head slaps a hand on Wills thigh.
“Shut it Will, this isn’t anybody’s business.”
And then Bay really tenses up. Because it wasn’t her pants that he got into. And soon Will catches on too, furrowing his brow and leaning over in Bays direction. “What’s got you all upset?” (Like he doesn’t already know.)
“I didn’t know you were sleeping with other people.” She squawks out.
“I didn’t know you weren’t.” He retaliates. “I mean look at you and Niall, you live together and sleep in the same bed half the time.”
“Niall.” She stutters, obviously trying to find some sort of answer. “Niall likes to fuck Liam, Will! How dumb are you?” (So Liam and Niall are dating.)
And then she’s gone—and everybody is really confused.
--
“Harry you need to go get Bay out of the shower, the movie is about to start.” Zayn give Harry a little push and then plops back down onto the couch.
“Why me?” He asks, trying to hide the flush in his skin.
“Because we’ve all been friends since we were kids, and we’ve already seen her naked.” Niall chimes in. (Not that it would phase him.) “Breathe, there is a fucking shower curtain Haz, just knock and let yourself in. She needs to hurry up.”
So harry does, knock and then let himself in. And it’s not fair because he’s sure they did this to him on purpose. The curtain only has color halfway up—so the other half is well—very transparent.
“Hey Bay. The um—the movie is about to start.” He doesn’t wait for her response just jogs out, because he can already feel himself starting to grow.
It takes a good thirty seconds before Zayn sees Harrys problem and can’t help but snicker and point it out to Louis, who points it out to Niall who whispers it in Liams ear. And before he knows it he’s at the bottom of a dog pile, and all the rubbing isn’t helping his cause.
But he’s saved by the bell when the bathroom door swings open and all the boys freeze.
“I don’t even want to know.” And then Bay waltzes off towards her room.
“Bay wait!” Louis shouts, jumping up from the pile. “You need to give Harry a blowjob!” He yelps out, a quick punch in the balls and he’s still laughing at his own joke.
“Uh—no.” Bay chuckles and tries to turn back towards her room.
“Why not you gave Zayn one once.” Louis reminds her, Bays face instantly pink.
She tries to use the excuse that they were 15 and he asked and she is just that good of a friend, but Louis doesn’t let anybody live anything down, and before he even gets to finish his joke she’s slammed her door and promptly locked herself in her room.
--
Harry knocks and hold his breath, because what if she’s really mad. But she signals for him to come in, and the door is unlocked.
Bay is sitting indian style on her bed and she has a sociology book laid out in front of her. She smiles and closes it and pats where the book was, and Harry sits, even though he’s sure he’s about to throw up.
“Are you mad at me?” He asks quickly, intaking breath again.
“No.”
“Just Louis then?”
“I’m not even mad at Louis. Sometimes he just needs to be yelled at to get it. Doesn’t think before he speaks—that boy.”
And then she smiles and thank God because he loves that smile.
“Did you really have a boner?” She asks, and there is humor in her voice. (But that might give him a boner again, so he tries not to think about it.)
“Uh—well—I—Yeah.”
“You know if you talked a little more, I don’t think we’d be in this position.” He thinks he’ll do it—ask her out—even though he’s already been following her like a lost puppy and then; “Will you go out with me then. This way you won’t have to hide off of your boners.”
And she’s smirking hard against the dense air in the room, and then smirking against her own hand to hide her laughter, and then smirking against hips lips.