#alwfh

“I picked up a little bit when I was in Japan recently.”

“Nice,” you say. “How long were you there for?”

“A little over a month,” he says into another bite of toast, smearing a bit of jam on the side of his mouth. You have an instinct to reach over and wipe it off for him, but stop yourself before your body can act on the thought. He licks up the jam with the tip of his tongue and then wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand. You look away, thinking about how it’s too early in the morning to think about his tongue. You clear your throat and try to focus on getting to know him a little better. You’ve noticed that he hasn’t really opened up about himself very much, so you find yourself always wanting to know more. He’s got that mysterious, intriguing quality about him that won’t stop drawing you towards him.

“What were you doing there so long?”

“Just travelling around, you know,” he says. You’ve noticed that his answers are often vague, so you try to lightly prod him for some more information.

“What was your favourite place in Japan?” You ask, hoping for a lengthy story that says something about what he likes.

“Probably Tokyo,” he says. You wait for him to continue but he doesn’t say anything more.

“I’d love to go someday,” you say, trying to continue the conversation without feeling like you’re interrogating him. “Any recommendations?”

He hums and thinks for a minute before responding. “Do you like animals?”

You’re a bit thrown by the seemingly random question but don’t hesitate to answer him. “I love them! Except lions, they’re scary.”

“I don’t think you’re very likely to run into one in Japan,’’ he laughs. “I only asked ‘cause seeing the deer in Nara is a must.”

“Ooh, I’ve heard of that!” You respond enthusiastically.

“It’s amazing. There’s so many and they come right up to you,” he says.

“That sounds so cool.”

“It is. And I did a Japanese cooking class that was awesome, so I’d recommend that too.”

“Yum, what’d you make?”

“Okonomiyaki and a killer ramen,” he looks pleased to report.

You beam at him, thrilled that he’s engaging with you and seeming more animated than yesterday. “You’ll have to give me the details of where you went.”

He agrees with a warm smile and then turns the conversation back towards you. You talk about the places you’ve been recently, and discuss the long list of places that you both want to visit in the future. The conversation is so natural and comfortable that you stay there talking until the hostel’s breakfast room is cleared for cleaning. You’re not sure what to do next, so you ask a staffer at the hostel’s front desk. She recommends a few options, but you and Harry decide on Elizabeth Park for its gardens and Vancouver city views. Neither you or Harry have been there, so you get to experience it for the first time together. If you’re honest with yourself, you don’t really care where you go or what you do as long as it’s with Harry.

You have to take public transport there, and spend the whole train ride sitting next to Harry with the top of your thigh pressed up against his. You feel like your leg is on fire from the smallest contact, and the fire spreads throughout your body. This isn’t something that usually happens to you – there’s just something about Harry that your body instinctually responds to. The longer you’re sitting next to him, the more you have to stop yourself from pressing your thighs together. It’s something you can ordinarily get away with in public but Harry would definitely notice. You’re a bit annoyed that you’re already itching to touch yourself because of Harry and it’s only mid-morning, but at least you can blame the low hum of vibration tickling your body through the seat from the train’s running engine.

When you finally arrive at the right stop, you leap up from your seat in relief. You see Harry furrow his brow a little but he doesn’t say anything. Walking from the station to the park, you try to steel yourself with several deep breaths of fresh air. You walk with Harry in a comfortable silence and mentally reprimand your body for misbehaving already.

The park is beautiful and rich with colours that shine vibrantly in the sun. Your eyes flit between the soft greens of the flourishing trees above you, to an overgrown patch of violets in every shade of purple and blue you could imagine, to the glimpses of multicoloured roses in various stages of blooming. There are tennis courts with families playing, the odd runner or cyclist, and dogs of all sizes making new friends across the lawn. It feels peaceful and alive in a way that downtown Vancouver didn’t. As much as you love the city, there’s something special about nature that makes you feel happy and at home. Everyone is always in a rush in the centre of cities, hurrying from one place to the next without really looking around - but here, time is irrelevant and you can just enjoy your surroundings without feeling stressed.

You take another deep breath, basking in the feel of the sun pressing down against your shoulders like warm breath across your skin. It’s a pleasant light burn that relaxes your muscles and tugs a smile at your lips, causing Harry to smile at you in response. He can see how much more at ease you are in this environment, even more so than when you went to Stanley Park yesterday.

You continue to walk together in a comfortable silence, and the path that winds around the park and gardens only become more beautiful at every turn of a corner or round of a bend. When you come across an impressive large glass dome of a greenhouse, you’re in awe of how the sunlight reflects off of the interlocking triangular panels of the structure. It somehow manages to look futuristic at the same time as perfectly fitting into the landscape. In front of the building is an array of fountains built into the ground, and you can’t help but giggle as you watch a group of children chasing each other through the water jets. Everything about this place is peaceful yet joyful, and you find yourself more relaxed than you have been in a long time. You almost forget that Harry is next to you, until you turn to find him watching you with a grin on his face.

“What?” You question him. He only shakes his head and mumbles that it’s nothing, walking further down the path ahead of you. You follow him and consider asking him again what his grin was for, but the thought immediately leaves your mind when you see the first view of Vancouver ahead of you. It’s breathtaking, especially on such a bright and sunny day, and it leaves you staring with your mouth agape. You can see downtown, the water, all the way to North Vancouver, and even further to the snowy mountains in the distance. You’ve expected a nice walk in the park and maybe a pretty view, but not this. This - stumbling upon sights that surprise and excite and astonish you - is why you love travelling.

As you look out over the spectacular view of Vancouver with a lovely stranger at your side and a sense of ease in your heart, you feel a sense of gratitude wash over you. Travelling is a luxury that you certainly haven’t taken for granted, but in moments like this you feel overwhelmed by how lucky you are to have these experiences. You get to see the world, meet new and interesting people, and create memories that will last a lifetime. You get to try new foods, learn about new cultures, and sometimes even jump out of your comfort zone. It can be scary, but it’s worth every minute.

Remembering that Harry is beside you, you try to swallow your emotions and hope that they’re not showing on your face. You’re not upset, just a little dazed by how happy and lucky you feel in this moment. These are the moments that you live for.

“Y’alright?” Harry breaks through your thoughts to ask you. Perhaps you weren’t as good at hiding your emotions as you thought.

“Yeah, fine,” you mumble in an unconvincing drawl that causes Harry to furrow his eyebrows at you. But he doesn’t push you on it and accepts that you must not want to talk about whatever was going through your mind. “Lunch?” He asks and you nod your head with a smile. There’s still quite a bit of the gardens to walk through, so you decide to see the rest and then find lunch after exiting from a different side of the park that you entered from.

The path winds down a steep hill around every type of flower and plant that you can imagine. You stroll slowly to try and take it all in, but there’s so much to see. You don’t know that much about the flora, but it’s pretty to look at. It’s clearly been well designed and carefully maintained to be kept in pristine condition. If you lived here, you’d love to come to these gardens to read or draw for a few hours.

Once you reach the end of the park, you and Harry find a cute little cafe to have some lunch. You both grab some sandwiches and chat about mundane things like the best flavour of milkshake and the best cartoon. Harry’s adamant that the best cartoon is one called Big Mouth, which you can’t argue with since you’ve never seen it, and your choice is the cartoon Daria that you grew up loving. Harry also loves Daria, and mentions that he used to love watching it with his sister Gemma. It’s the first time that he’s mentioned any family members, so you’re a little surprised but do your best to not show it on your face. You want to know more about his family and his life, but you also don’t want to push him away or freak him out. It’s clear to you that’s he’s a very private person and will tell you whatever he’s comfortable with in his own time.

~

You’re pretty exhausted from your lack of sleep and anxiety last night, coupled with the long walk in the sun through Elizabeth Park, so you decide to spend the late afternoon by taking a nap in Harry’s bunk. Once you mention a nap, he agrees that it’s a good idea and then promptly leaves you in the dorm alone. You promise to meet him at the hostel’s downstairs bar area after dinner at 8pm, so you know you have plenty of time to rest and grab some food later. You hate wasting your time in Vancouver like this, but you know that you’re too tired to do anything anyway. You don’t want to push yourself too hard and get sick, like what happened to you when you were travelling in New York City.

As soon as you climb into Harry’s bed, you’re engulfed by the smell of him and the feeling as if he’s there with you. It’s comforting and homely and a little musky, but in a pleasant way. You curl yourself beneath the tangled sheets and breathe deeply into the thin pillow until all of your muscles relax. It doesn’t take long before you fall into a deep sleep.

~

By the time you force yourself out of Harry’s bed and finish a quick dinner from the Tim Horton’s across the street from the hostel, it’s already five to 8. You hurry back to the hostel to meet Harry at the bar, but find the area littered with people. Everyone is animatedly chatting with one another, some holding glasses of beer that they drink in eager gulps. You don’t know any of them, and already feel a bit overwhelmed by the unexpected crowd of people in the small bar area. You’re just deciding whether to abandon your promise to Harry and head back to your room when you feel a light touch on the small of your back. You jump a bit at the feeling of the hand on your back but relax when you turn and see Harry’s vibrant green eyes shining at you. The mostly empty glass in his hand and his slackened eyelids tell you that he’s clearly had at least one drink already.

“You coming?” Harry asks you with a hopeful smile.

“To… where, exactly?” Your eyebrows furrow and you wonder if he told you before your nap and you somehow forgot.

“The pub crawl!” He drawls in an excited tone, prompting a whooping shout from a few people surrounding you.

“Oh- um, I… I dunno,” you say, stammering your words as you think through the unexpected suggestion.

“It’ll be fun!” Harry’s face lights up even more. “I mean, you don’t have to,” he clarifies and lowers the volume of his voice so that only you can hear. “But I want you to come.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the familiar genuine expression paired with a more unfamiliar timidness. You’ve never seen him look even slightly unsure of himself until now.

“Okay,” you say softly in response. If Harry wants you to spend the night with him, then you’re going to say yes even if it pushes you out of your comfort zone. You’ve never been on a pub crawl before, and it makes you nervous. But maybe that’s a good thing - travelling is all about experiencing new things, meeting people and having fun. You’re about to say something more to Harry, but you’re cut off by a booming voice that floats over the crowd in ringing precision.

“Alright, who’s ready for the pub crawl?” You hear, and turn your head to see the tall bearded man who checked you into your room. He has an Irish accent and a warm, laid back smile. “I’m Ben, I’ll be leading us around to the five pubs of the night.” Another whoop breaks out from the group that’s already grown by a few people since you arrived. “I have a map of where we’re going for each of you in case you get lost or want to leave. It’s a half hour per pub, so don’t get too comfortable.” People are starting to talk amongst themselves so Ben raises his voice to make sure he’s heard. “At the bottom of the map you’ll see a band which you can rip off and put around your wrist, it’ll give you 20% off all drinks and one free shot per bar.” A rapturous cheer fills the space, and you can feel the energy of the group prickle your skin like electricity.

You grab a map from Ben and mill out of the hostel’s front doors along with everyone else. You’re heading to a bar called The Tap first, which is only a few blocks away. Most of the group are deep in conversation the whole way there, but you and Harry walk beside each other in silence. You spend the walk listening to two girls behind you conversing in rapid Spanish, only catching a few random words that you know. It’s a good distraction from the constant awareness of Harry’s presence next to you.

When you arrive at the first pub, you head straight for some booth seating near the back. At least half of the group head to the bar for their first round, so you figure that you might as well wait it out as you’ve never been assertive enough to be served quickly at a bar anyway.

Harry slides into the booth beside you, followed by Ben and a few other people that you think you’ve seen at breakfast or in the hostel’s hallways before. Classic rock plays on the overhead speakers, and Harry hums along with it perfectly. His voice is smooth and rich as butter but there’s also something else in his tone that’s raw and real. You can’t imagine how he must sound when he’s probably singing if he sounds this good merely humming. You turn your head to look at him in interest, but he stops humming as soon as he catches your eye.

“What?” He asks. You don’t know how to respond, or what to say, or even exactly what you were thinking. You just found yourself astounded by this mysterious man who you happened to meet by chance and couldn’t stop thinking about. What was it about him? How did he seem so comfortably familiar yet surprise you at every turn?

“Nothing,” you reply, darting your eyes to your lap.

“You alright?” Harry asks into your ear so that the others in the booth can’t hear the question.

“Yeah, fine,” you say, but Harry raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “I’m just a bit tired still, s’all.”

He quirks his lip up and starts to get out of the booth as the people next to him get up to let him out. “I know just the thing.” He heads towards the bar and Ben takes Harry’s spot next to you.

You strike up a light conversation with Ben in Harry’s absence, mostly about how he started working at the hostel and what his favourite places in Vancouver are. When Harry returns, you notice that he’s clenching his jaw and not as relaxed as he was before. He’s holding two drinks and two shots, and you gulp at the ease with which he’s holding so much in his large hands. Harry slides into the booth opposite you and passes over a dark brown drink with a thick layer of white foam resting on top of it. He explains that it’s an Irish coffee which is black coffee with whiskey and sugar mixed into it, to both wake you up and start your night of drinking. A clear liquid in a two shot glasses sit next to the beer that he bought for himself. You thank him profusely for the drink and take a sip of the rich concoction that you hope makes you loosen up for the rest of the night. It’s strong, and not very pleasant, but you happily drink it anyway.

As you slowly enjoy your drink, you talk to Ben and a girl named Sian from Scotland. You don’t talk very much, but you enjoy the easy company and the conversation around you. Across from you, Harry silently nurses his drink and listens. He darts his eyes towards you occasionally and looks as if he’s holding himself back from saying what’s on his mind. You wonder whether he’s thinking about you, because you certainly can’t stop thinking about him.

By the time you’re only halfway through the Irish coffee, you already feel more awake and social. You start to talk to Sian and Ben more, but Harry remains quiet. You try to include him in the conversation, but his mind seems a bit far off.

When Ben calls for the group to move on to the second pub, you haven’t had your shot or finished your cocktail. Harry hasn’t had his either, so you make eye contact with him and gesture towards the tiny glasses. His lip quirks up for the first time in a while, which you consider a small victory that you’ll take. You don’t know why he’s acting so weird, but you also don’t want to ask him about it. Maybe he’s just shy.

The shot feels like acid crawling its way down your throat. You’ve had shots before, but you don’t usually have them so early in a night of drinking. It leaves a nice warm feeling in your stomach, but you don’t think you’ll have any more shots from the other pubs. Looking up, you find Harry giggling at your scrunched up face from the shot. You reach over the table and playfully whack him on the arm, to which he only giggles more. Even though you can still feel the uncomfortable acid burning your throat, you think that it was worth it to get Harry laughing and smiling again.

On the way to the second pub, the cool night air doesn’t feel as chilly anymore. You’re very comfortable in your t-shirt and jeans, and don’t feel as underdressed anymore. While some of the other girls are in nicer clothes and heels, others are wearing similar casual outfits as you. Harry isn’t dressed up either, and the pubs aren’t exactly fancy venues. The second place is even more grungy than the first, but it feels homely and welcoming with its dim lights and cute little tables for four. As you walk in, you can sense Harry’s hand hovering behind the small of your back. He guides you both towards the bar to get drinks together, and you don’t bother to debate why he’s bringing you along this time. He orders you both a beer, and you thrust the money at the bartender before Harry gets a chance; seeing as he paid for the last round.

You would’ve been happy to continue talking to Ben and Sian, but they’re already deep in conversation at a full table. You notice that Harry is pleased about something, but you let the curiosity escape you when you spot a table with two chairs free. You end up talking to a couple named Mateo and Sofia from Argentina, who are a bit reserved at first but lovely. Harry speaks up a little more in this conversation, asking the couple about their favourite cities to visit in South America. You mostly listen as they talk about the national parks they’ve all visited and the ones they’re yet to trek. You’re just happy that Harry seems to be in a better mood and more engaged than before, so you’re not fussed that you don’t know what they’re talking about.

You go to the bathroom and grab yourself and Harry another beer on the way back, enjoying how the rich malt coats your throat. You see Ben at the bar and chat to him for a bit, mostly about different types of beer. It’s not a particularly interesting conversation, but you nod your head and smile anyway.

When you return to the table and hand Harry his beer back, he thanks you but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. You wonder what he might’ve talked about with the Argentinian couple while you were gone - perhaps the discussion about national parks turned dark or became awkward in some way.

Before you know it, you hear Ben call across the bar that it’s time to head to the third venue of the night. The crowd whoops and skulls their glasses before filing out the door with significantly more enthusiasm than the first pub. You stumble a little when you stand up, suddenly noticing the alcohol in your system. Harry is by your side in an instant, holding your upper arm gently and asking if you’re okay. You tell him that you feel fine and just stood up too quickly, but he doesn’t seem convinced.

The fresh air is delicious on the walk to the third pub. You feel like you have a little pep to your step from the warm buzz of alcohol flowing through your limbs, and you enjoy the feeling. You’re not quite drunk, but you’re definitely in the happy tipsy zone where you feel on top of the world.  It’s giving you a pleasant dreamy feeling, almost like you’re floating as you walk next to Harry.

Once you turn a corner onto a main well-lit road, Harry slows you both down to take the pub crawl map out from his pocket and look closely at it under a flickering streetlight. Other hostel guests in the group pass you by without question.

“How are you feeling?” He asks you again, this time looking you dead in the eyes. “Do you…” he takes longer than he usually does to think before he finishes his sentence. “Do you want to… go back to the hostel? Instead of goin’ to the pub?”

Your eyes widen at his question, wondering what it could mean. Does he want what you do? Could he be suggesting something that has gone only unspoken between the two of you for the past few days? Or is he merely being a gentleman who wants to make sure that you don’t get too drunk and get back to the hostel alright?

You realise that you’re merely staring at him instead of giving him an answer, but he’s patient and waits for you to think it through.

“Um… yeah. That’s a good idea.” You finally decide to tell him, realising that you were only excited about the pubs because you got to be with Harry at them.

“Okay, cause we can just walk down that way to get back,” he says with an outstretched hand pointing down a street. “And the other pubs only get further away.”

“It’s a plan,” you say, immediately regretting the choice of response.

The journey back to the hostel is mostly silent, but your mind is racing. In fact, you find yourself so distracted wondering what Harry is thinking about that you end up tripping on your own feet and nearly falling face first onto the gravel sidewalk. Luckily, Harry catches you in time - even though he’s tipsy himself and probably has slowed reflexes. You take a deep breath and thank him for saving you from both the injury and embarrassment. He probably thinks that you’re more drunk than you are, but you’re sure that you tripped because of the distraction of him - not to mention that you’re already uncoordinated at the best of times.

Harry’s not showing his alcohol intake as much as you are in his body language, but you can see how tipsy he is based on his flushed face, narrowed eyes and far-away gaze. He looks over at you every few seconds, and keeps one arm held very closely behind your back in case you stumble once more. You know that you shouldn’t - but you’re tempted to trip up a second time just to feel his firm hands on your arm and waist yet again.

~

When you finally arrive back at your room, it’s dark and you can hear light snoring from the Japanese girl that you saw Harry speak to this morning. Thinking back to then, you can’t believe how long ago that felt considering you barely knew anything about Harry this morning. You feel like you’ve never learned more about a person in a single day until today. Once Harry follows you into the room, you can only see by the light of the moon. It casts a pale glow in one long streak on the wall next to the window. Once your eyes adjust, you can tell that the other bed above the Japanese girl is still untouched. She’s fast asleep and facing away from you, and you can see that she’s got an eye mask on and neon yellow ear plugs in.

You stumble through the room, blindly making your way the few steps towards the bed with your arms pointed out in front of your body. When your hands collide with the metal divider of the bunks, you stop abruptly in your track. Before you can say anything to Harry, he runs directly into you, pushing you into the bed. You hit the metal of the bed and it sounds worse than it feels, either because of the alcohol or the reverberation of the sound in the quiet room. Either way, you’re not very bothered by it because you’re distracted by the butterflies in your stomach screaming about being right next to a bed with Harry this close to you.

“Oh shit, are you alrigh’?” He asks you frantically and unnecessarily loud.

As a response, you start to giggle uncontrollably, and he joins in as soon as he realises that you’re fine. You’re both trying to smother your laughter so as not to wake up your roommate, and luckily you notice no change in her consistent snores. As your bodies both shake with laughter, Harry suddenly takes your shoulders in his hands. You jump a little, not expecting the touch. You’re still facing away from him and he’s chillingly close behind you. He begins to lazily massage into your shoulders, slowly moving his hands like waves on your skin. His touch is firm yet careful, and you feel immediately relaxed and comfortable under his hold. You’re both in a trance from his movements, almost paused in time, but you sense that he would let go of you in a heartbeat if you showed any signs of discomfort.

“But really, are you okay? That sounded bad,” Harry says, all the while loosening the tense muscles in your upper back and neck. You don’t mean to do it, don’t even realise what’s happened until after the sound leaves your mouth, but the massage feels so good that you let out a light moan. Your hand shoots up to cover your mouth in an instant.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” he says with a satisfied chuckle, and you’re really glad that he can’t see how embarrassed you look right now.

“Guess we should get to bed then,” you say. Except that neither of you move. You think back to your conversation this morning, where he offered to swap beds with you and even joked that you could share a bed. It was an easy flirtation to laugh off this morning, but it’s feeling far more tempting and possible now. You look up at the top bunk with dread, knowing that you won’t sleep again if you have to go back up there. You’re frozen in place, undecided on what to do next, when you hear the sound of fabric brushing against skin from behind you. When you turn around to look at Harry, your eyes go wide. He’s taken off his shirt and is already undoing the top button on his jeans.

“What the fuck?” You say, eyes wide and voice strained in shock.

“What?” He calmly whispers back. It takes him a few extra seconds because of the alcohol, but he manages to pop out the button of his jeans and bring down the zip. You’re taking the opportunity to appreciate his myriad of tattoos that still stand out despite the lack of light in the room, and your tipsy mind lets your eyes linger on his body even though he’s clearly noticed your gaze.

“Why are you taking off your clothes?” You manage to ask.

“Are you planning on sleeping like that?” He says, gesturing up and down your body.

“Well, no, but…” you stammer, unsure of what to say. “I’ve got pajamas.”

“So are you gonna get into them or just keep standing there ogling me?” He says with one eyebrow raised. You can feel the embarrassment rush over your face, so you turn towards your suitcase to pluck out your matching set of summer PJs. You make sure that he isn’t facing you and take off your shirt, replacing it with the soft red tank top that’s most comfortable to sleep in. You then take your bra off under your shirt, only slightly struggling with the clasp and straps. You can hear from the bed’s straining springs behind you that Harry is climbing onto the mattress and getting comfortable. It’s surprisingly loud in the nearly silent room. The only other things you can hear is your roommate’s light breathing and the distant sounds of Vancouver still alive with nightlife. You glance behind you again to make sure that Harry is still looking away, and see that his face is lit up by his phone screen. You quickly shimmy out of your jeans, feeling the cool air on your legs raise goosebumps across your skin. You’re a little dizzy trying to put on your silk pajama shorts, and end up needing to hold onto the bed’s metal railing to keep your balance. The Japanese girl is still breathing evenly and clearly in a very deep sleep.

When your shorts are on, you turn back to the bed and pause, unsure of what to do. You feel like your brain needs to catch up and process everything without the sight of Harry almost naked in the bed before you. He’s under the covers, but you can’t help but think about the glimpses of his body that’s burned into your memory. You feel hot and cold at the same time, and shiver at the odd sensation. Harry senses your presence and looks up from his phone to find you awkwardly motionless in front of your shared bunk bed.

“You coming?” He asks.

Your confusion shows on your face with a frown and furrowed brows. He responds by pulling back the covers and shifting his body over as close to the wall as he can get. You finally understand in your tipsy haze that he’s offering you a spot.

“But it’s a single bed.”

“I’m a cuddler anyway,” he says in a tone that is far too calm and collected for the present situation. The light from his phone screen turns off but you still catch his cheeky expression.

You’re conflicted. You like Harry, and have enjoyed all of your time with him so far, which has felt like so much more than two days. But you don’t really know him that well, and this is something that you never do. You try to remain a little objective about the fact that you’ve barely known him two days, because you feel as if you’ve known him for years. He’s so easy to talk to, kind, thoughtful, genuine, and funny. His smile brightens up every room and you feel such a natural chemistry with him that you can’t deny.

You don’t know if he just has a flirty personality or is genuinely attracted to you like you are to him. You’re already mortified at the thought of making assumptions and being rejected by him. Your skin begins to prickle with the familiar feeling of panic. Your options are to return to the top bunk, or sleep in the same single bed as Harry. The choice should be easy, but your tipsy mind is faltering at the thought of your body pressed up against his.

His confident smile is replaced with concern when he sees panic in your eyes. “If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll go up to the top bunk and you sleep here, it’s really fine.”

You think for a moment, considering why you’re so hesitant. It’s not that you don’t want to crawl into the bed with him. You do, more than anything. You want to be that person who does this kind of thing on a whim because it feels right. But you’ve always been the type to overthink and miss opportunities that you later wish you’d taken up.

As you contemplate your next move, Harry watches you patiently. After a minute, he tries a new approach to convince you to join him.

“You’re not thinking of going up there again, are you?” He raises a brow. “You wouldn’t even make it up there in one piece given the state you’re in.”

“Hey, I could get up there if I wanted,” you say, slightly slurring your words. This only further proves his point and he giggles at your grumpy scoff.

“Oh, really? You wanna try, then?” He’s mocking you now, but you don’t care because his dimples are on full display and his eyes are shining - even in the dim light. This is when you give up, and decide wholeheartedly that you’ll join Harry tonight.

“I like to be up against the wall, if that’s okay.” You say in a soft voice.

He grins widely and shifts back to where he was initially, allowing you the small space tucked into the wall. You’ve always felt safe there, as it helps to keep you grounded from your anxiety.

Harry seems relieved at your decision, even blushing a little bit. The only problem for you now is that you need to climb over and on top of him to reach the empty space in the bed.

Resting your knee against the side of the mattress next to Harry’s thigh, you duck your torso down so that you’re parallel to his body. Leaning over him, you can almost feel electricity between your bodies. Your hairs are standing on end, like they are pulling you down towards his body. Your mind falters at your proximity to him, and his scent of mint and gin. There’s another scent that catches you, something musky and floral that you’ve never come across. It’s comforting and warm, and makes you want to melt into him until you smell the same.

As you lift your leg over his body, your inner thigh grazes against the outside of his thigh, skin to skin. You shiver at the contact and he takes in a sharp breath. You feel like you’re immediately more intoxicated from the overwhelming scent and grazing touch of him alone. Hovering above him, you pause for a moment and make eye contact. Even in the dim light, you can see how light and soft his green eyes are while looking upon you with enlarged pupils. Your brain tells you to move towards the wall, but your body stays put above him. And as you don’t go anywhere, Harry shamelessly moves his eyes down your body.

His gaze feels like fire, or ice, or anything that takes control of your body and encompasses you in the feeling alone. He drags his eyes back up to yours, and you swear that his pupils are so large that there’s barely any colour left there. His muscles are tensed and you notice that his skin bares the same goosebumps as yours. You don’t dare look down at his body the way he’s glanced over yours, even though you can sense his eyes daring you to.

After what feels like minutes but must have been only seconds, you manage to pull your leg over his body to gracelessly land in the bed next to him. Your back hits the freezing cold wall and it sends a sudden shiver down your spine, leading your body to instinctively jump away from it – straight into Harry’s arms. You don’t even realise what’s happened until it’s too late. Your chest is pressed firmly against the soft warmth of his naked torso and your face is only a breath away from his. Harry seems just as surprised as you are, but he doesn’t move away. You let out a shaky breath, taking a moment to notice how his lips are slightly parted and glistening against the reflected moonlight. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth and glances down between you where your bodies meet. His forehead brushes against yours with the movement and the light touch causes you to arch your back even further into him. On any other night or with any other person, you might be embarrassed at such a response to someone barely touching you. But you can’t find it in yourself to care, and it’s not just the alcohol talking. Harry’s intoxicating all on his own – and you feel unbelievably alive being this close to him.

You make eye contact and hold it for a few moments, both daring each other to protest or move. He keeps hold of your gaze and slowly snakes his hand along your side – up your thigh, over your hips, and into the dip of your waist. It feels like your body has ignited, set ablaze by his rough fingertips taking their time with your shivering body. You realise suddenly that one of your arms has become numb while crushed under your body but you can’t find it within yourself to care. Harry, still holding eye contact with you, trails the hand on your waist behind your back and presses lightly so that you’re tightly held in his arms. You can feel your nipples hardening against his chest and wonder if he can feel the sensitive nubs poking into him through your tank top.

There’s a pause where you both even your breathing, him just holding you close, before he adjusts his hips to shift sideways and meet flush against your own. You draw a sharp breath, feeling how hard he is against your upper thigh with barely any fabric between you. Your mind jumps to life and your arm finally moves from your own thigh across to his. You get as far as the hem of his boxer briefs before he breaks the silence.

“We shouldn’t,” he whispers, sounding unconvinced himself. “You’re drunk.”

“So are you,” you challenge him. He lets out an exasperated breath.

“I want you,” he says with surety. “But we can’t if… you’re not able to… think about it properly.”

“Harry, I wanted you before I had any alcohol. And I feel it but I can also still think clearly, I promise you.” He looks at you for a moment as if considering your words and then gives the slightest nod.

“We don’t have to have sex right now,” you say, shocked by your own confidence and the boldness taking over you. “I just want to touch you. Is that okay?”

He shivers out a quiet yes, and your hand continues to move up his thigh and over his hip. You bypass his cock to tease him a little and travel up his tensed torso, tracing your hand over his tattoos as you’ve imagined doing for the past two days. He begins moving his hand again too, going back down your body until he’s cupping your ass and squeezing gently. You’re exploring each other’s bodies silently and all you can hear is the sound of your heartbeat reverberating in your ears.

Your fingers dance across his shoulders and back until they land on his stomach, tickling the trail of hair just above his crotch. You move lower and lower until your hand pushes the band of his underwear down his thighs, releasing his cock to spring up against your joined bodies. You look him in the eyes as seductively as you can manage as you reach down between you and wrap your fingers around him. You both breathe in sharply – him from the feeling of you finally touching him, and you from the shock at just how big he is.

He’s already rock hard and throbbing in your hand, and you haven’t even done anything yet. You squeeze him gently, marvelling at how your fingertips can’t touch each other around his thick shaft. You keep your hand in place and let your thumb wander over his head, caressing along his tip until you discover all of his most sensitive spots. He’s biting his tongue but can’t stop himself from breathing in heavy, shaking bursts. You can feel that he’s too dry, so you remove your hand from around his shaft and lift it up to your face. He looks confused for a minute, and then his eyes widen in aroused surprise as you very slowly lick one long stripe from the base of your palm to the tip of your fingers. You keep eye contact with him the entire time, and he lets out a light hiss when you dip your fingers into your mouth with sucked in cheeks. You don’t know what’s gotten into you but you have no plans to stop – you feel hypnotised and utterly helpless to stop whatever it is you’ve begun.

When you return your hand to his cock, it’s gotten even harder and seemingly even bigger than it was just a moment ago. You slick your saliva up and down his shaft, squeezing a bit as you reach the base. Around his tip, your touch is smooth and feather-light. You familiarise yourself with the feel of him, imagining how the bump of the thick vein on his side would feel inside of you. He’d be the biggest you’ve ever had, and you can feel yourself dripping into your underwear at the thought of him fucking you. Once the image is in your head, it stays there while you work at him and feel him unravel before you. It’s a powerful feeling – knowing that you’re the reason that he’s feeling so good and beginning to squirm in your arms.

Your hand twists and turns as you work his shaft, making sure to graze the underside of his cock with your thumb every few thrusts. A few times, you even feel him twitch in your hand. His hips begin to jut up into your hand, matching your rhythm and allowing you to run the full length of his shaft with each thrust. He’s clearly concentrating on remaining quiet but can’t help the tensing of his muscles and rough pulls on your skin with his free hand. He runs his fingers up your back and buries his hand into the hair at the base of your scalp. He closes his hand into a fist and your back arches at the dull pull of your hair.

You make eye contact yet again and this time it’s more intimate than ever. Your hand slows down and holds firmly in one place as you both look over each other behind hooded eyes. Harry then uses the hand in your hair to push you towards him, and your lips lock. It’s immediately passionate and wet, as you seem to have skipped past the hesitant or innocent first kiss that you might’ve had. You’re doing things out of order but neither of you care because it all feels so right. He tastes exactly like he smells, but somehow even sweeter. Your tongues dance together in an easy and natural rhythm, without any stumbling or awkwardness that often comes along with a first kiss. You let Harry lead the kiss and fall even further into the intoxication of him. Your mind is in the clouds, and your body is following instinct.

When you finally part from the kiss, panting and blurry-eyed, he moves his sweaty torso back a little bit so that he’s no longer pressed completely against you. He glances down between your bodies at your stock-still fingers around his cock and bites his lip.

“Go on,” he says, and you shiver at the command. You continue, and Harry releases the arm pinned under him so that he can explore your body with both hands. You do the same and he shivers when your second hand wraps around him. He dips his fingers under the hem of your tank and sighs when he drags them up to massage over your bare breasts.

“So beautiful,” he whispers in a tone of heavy arousal.

“You’re so big,” you respond with the first thing that comes to mind. He chuckles lightly and his dimples appear in a smug grin. You’re not usually so forthcoming with thoughts like this, but something has seemed to take over you tonight.

“This is all I’ve thought about,” he admits, sounding truly vulnerable and unsure of himself for the first time.

“Me too,” you reassure him. “I wanted you since the first time I saw you.” You brush your fingers against the head of his cock, collecting the pre-cum beading up. His mouth opens in a relieved but pained expression, and he presses his sweaty forehead down against yours.

When he collects himself, he returns to a self-assured smile. “Oh, I know. I saw the way you looked at me in the towel when we first met,” he whispers in a deeper voice than you’ve heard come out of him.

“Can you blame me?” You say, playing into the praise he’s clearly enjoying. “Been thinking about touching you since then.” You’re both speaking in the softest whispers you can manage, basically breathing dirty thoughts into each others’ mouths.

“What have you been thinking about?” He asks you, his voice strained and husky. “Tell me.”

“Touching you,” you whisper, barely audible. “Like this.” You squeeze your hand harder than you have yet and twist at the same time, eliciting a deep groan from the back of his throat.

“I wanna touch you too,” he moans, moving his palm from where it rested on your breast down your skin until it hits the top of your shorts. “Can I?”

“Please,” you mutter. You help him move your shorts far down enough for him to access your underwear, but you need him too much to take the time to fully remove them. Every part of your body is on fire, and every touch of his hand against your skin reverberates through you like waves. He takes a moment to tease you by dragging the tips of his fingers along your soft inner thighs, which sends chills down your spine and makes your head instinctively fall back. But then he lightly brushes his fingers over your vulva, and it takes everything in you to not loudly moan at the feeling. You can feel that you’ve soaked through your underwear, which might have embarrassed you on another day, but today all you can do is push your hips up towards his fingers to urge him on.

Harry catches your eyes in the dark and watches you as he hooks his thumb into your underwear and pulls it out of the way. He bites his lip and stares at you intensely when he first runs his fingers through your folds, clearly enjoying the way that your mouth drops open at his touch. He collects your arousal over his fingers and drags it up to coat your clit before circling against its hood with the pad of his ring finger. It feels so overwhelmingly good that your muscles begin to clench and your thighs instinctively try to close around his arm. He doesn’t hesitate to move his leg so that he’s holding yours open and apart. He then leans forward and starts kissing your neck, all the while circling your clit with masterful fingers, causing you to feel like you’re going to fall apart. It usually takes longer for you to get to this point, but you’ve wanted Harry so badly since the moment you saw him that it’s like you’ve been wound up and ready for days.

After a minute, you feel something warm twitch in your hand and realise that your palm is still loosely wrapped around Harry’s cock. You’ve been too overwhelmed and distracted to do anything for him, but it only turns you on more to think of getting him off at the same time that he’s getting you off. You suddenly squeeze him tightly and rub your thumb over his head, and he lets out a surprised squeak that cuts through the silence of the room. Your breath catches in your throat at the reminder that you need to be as quiet as possible, but there’s absolutely no way that either of you can stop now. You test another squeeze around him, and he exhales lightly in relief. He can’t be that far off at this point, but you don’t care because neither are you. And it’s not just the fact that you’d both been drinking a bit earlier in the night - there’s something about him that’s electrifying and sets your body alight in a way that it never has before.

You already think you’re going to burst from the way Harry’s touching you, but it gets even more intense when he brings his middle finger down to tease your entrance and press into it slowly. He replaces his ring finger with his thumb so that he’s still touching your clit, except that the added element of his finger inside you makes you want to scream. When he presses a second finger in and moves them around against your walls, you know that you’re absolutely done for.

All you can focus on is pumping your hand up and down Harry’s shaft, but his fingers feel so good that you struggle to keep a constant rhythm. Harry’s movements also become messier as they go, as you both become frantic and desperate for your releases. When you can barely hold on anymore, and Harry is clearly on the verge of cumming too, you meet each others’ mouths with a passion that you’d both been hiding but wanting to let out. As his tongue dances against yours, you’re overwhelmed with the fact that all you can feel and breathe and sense is him. And he brings something out of you so powerful that you’ve never experienced it before.

It’s more blazing than fire and more chilling than ice, and it encompasses every cell in your body. Harry holds down your shaking legs with his own but he can’t stop your chest from curling in on itself until your forehead presses between his neck and shoulder. And for one extended moment, everything stops. Even your breath stops for the rush overtaking your body in waves of flaming relief. Time doesn’t exist - only feeling does. Only you and Harry and every place that your bodies meet.

At some point, the tension ebbs out of your muscles and your body starts to relax. And that’s when Harry starts to shake and curl into you just as you did to him only seconds before. You focus all your energy on working him through his release, and you swear you’ve never seen a more beautiful sight. You can see the sweat beading on his bent forehead in the low light and his lips are a plump cherry red. His eyes are tightly shut and his expression almost looks like one of intense concentration. He holds on to you tightly and restlessly bucks his hips into your hand, until you feel the viscous warmth pool across your fingertips. His body goes limp against yours and you both take a minute to catch your breath and listen to the now thundering silence.

In the absence of his whispers and kisses and heavy breathing, you can hear the distant sounds of cars and people hollering on the street. The hostel’s downstairs bar plays dance music that you can feel the bass of if you concentrate. Someone just went to the toilet down the hall, or maybe the sound is a person taking a late night shower. Your roommate is still snoring lightly, thankfully unaware of the night’s events. It’s almost shocking remembering that the world is still here all around you.

But the loudest thing that you hear is your own heartbeat hammering away in your chest. You can feel it reverberate where Harry’s fingers just were, like your body is mourning his touch. You don’t know what to say or do now - but you’re feeling more sober than ever.

You don’t regret it, not for a single moment, but you’re a little worried that he might. Your mind whirrs at the thought of every worst case scenario that could follow such a high - what if he doesn’t want to spend any more time with you after tonight? What if he goes into the top bunk to avoid cuddling after your orgasms?