#spread (2009)

Los Angeles was not the top of the list of places Jenna had ever planned to live, but now that she was here, despite the noise, and the rude people she encountered, and the weird smells on some of the side streets, she was pretty sure she didn’t ever want to leave. Her apartment was tiny compared to anything else she’d ever lived in - it was a bedroom, a bathroom, a closet, and half a kitchen, with a balcony to make it worth the cost. Honestly, living by herself, Jenna didn’t care - all her friends were hundreds of miles away, and she was sure as shit not about to invite her coworkers to that place (not because she was embarrassed, but because most of them sucked).

But the best part, she had to admit, was the brunette across the hall.

She’d only been living there a few months, though a quick look around her apartment would argue that considering she hadn’t finished unpacking yet, so she didn’t really know any of her neighbors. She’d seen several of them, in passing, or from her balcony as they left or arrived, but she hadn’t actually met them, she didn’t know anyone’s names. The guy waved at her, if they saw each other on the balcony, apologized if he was loud and she stumbled out in the early hours, or the late hours. But she still didn’t know his name.

(It didn’t stop her, that morning, from leaving early enough to grab a gift card from the donut shop around the corner, and coming back to tie it to his doorknob, before she knocked, and bolted, to make it to work on time.)

Friday night.

Jenna had been looking forward to Friday night, she was going to get off work, come home and change, and go out for the night to drink, to dance, to have fun. But then she didn’t get out of work until well after seven, grumbling and swearing the entire way out of the office building, as she maneuvered through weekend traffic (fuck, every day was weekend traffic, as far as she could tell), and pulled into her spot under her apartment. The mood to go out was gone as soon as she realized she’d be stuck late at work, so she was grateful for delivery as she slid off her shoes and headed upstairs, already tapping at her phone to put in an order for dinner.

By the time she was out of the shower, her food was there, and she settled in on her bed to watch something dumb, and mindless.

The sound of giggles and thumps on her door woke her a few hours later, and she sat up, brow furrowed. When they sounded again, she groaned, grabbing up her things and dumping them in the trash as she moved to the door. Through the peephole, she could see the guy from across the hall, grinning and blushing, as he wobbled in front of her door. Frowning, Jenna tugged it open, pushing her red hair off her face.

“Hey...what’s going on, you okay?” she asked, confused, as he giggled, and grinned at her so wide, his whole face scrunched up.

“Hey! Pretty lady! What’re you doin’ in my apartment?” he asked, as Jenna laughed softly, confused.

“I’m...in my apartment, you live across the hall.”

“What?” he asked, smile gone, brow knitted together. “Nooo. No, this is my apartment, I just can’t find my keeeys.”

Jenna knew it the second he grinned at her, he was so drunk. She considered, for a second, digging his keys out of his pockets for him, but, not wanting to make things weird, she instead just smiled, and reached for his hand.

“Come on in, let me get you some water.”

“Pretty lady nice,” he whispered, as Jenna blushed brightly, and shut the door behind him, leading him to sit on her bed. “This isn’t my bed...where’re my frogs?” he asked, swatting the end of her bed as she moved to the fridge.

“Probably in your apartment. This is my apartment, and I don’t have frogs,” Jenna replied. He tilted his head back, blue eyes surrounded by red as he blinked at her. “Drink this.”

“Pretty lady so nice.”

“You can call me Jenna...strange man who lives across the hall.” He took a swig of the cool water, moaning as it ran down his throat, before letting her take the bottle, and set it on the nightstand. For a moment, they were quiet, before she could see him blinking slowly. With a sheepish smile, Jenna took his hand, helping him stand up again.

“‘m tired, Pr-...Jenna...Pretty Jenna.” She blushed more, shaking her head.

“That’s why I’m gonna get you to lie down, but, I wanna ask you to take off your jacket and your shoes,” she replied, moving her blanket back, as he shimmied and bounced, giggling, until his jacket came off. The shoes were harder for him, fingers fumbling, until she caught his hands, and smiled. “I got it.

“Nice Jenna.”

“You are so drunk, I cannot wait until tomorrow,” she mumbled, shaking her head as she pulled his boots off, and maneuvered him until his head was on the pillow, feet tucked under her blanket. “I have a fan, do you want the fan on?” He scrunched up his face, before nodding a little, as she smiled, turning to click the small fan on her nightstand on. The second the cool air hit his face, he hummed, and wriggled down against her bed.

“So nice.”

“Get some sleep, handsome fella. I’ll put the trash can here if you need it.”

“Nice Jenna,” he mumbled as he shut his eyes. Jenna smiled at him, biting her lip, before she sighed, and stood upright.

After tucking his boots at the end of the bed, and setting the garbage can by the bed like she promised, Jenna put a bottle of aspirin by the water, and clicked off all the lights except for the nightlight in her bathroom, in case he got up in the night and didn’t know where he was or what was going on. With a shrug, she dug her sleeping back out of the closet, quietly unfurling it and snagging a spare pillow off the shelf in her closet, before she laid on the floor, and drifted off.

                          The balcony door was open a crack, Jenna standing outside to sip her coffee. The guy from across the hall was still asleep in her bed, but the bottles had been moved, and the bathroom door was partly shut, so she knew he’d gotten up and some point and gone right back to bed. It made her smile, that he wasn’t so freaked out that he bolted. She still didn’t want to wake him up, so she lingered outside, enjoying the knowledge that she didn’t have to work, as she sipped her steaming drink. Movement inside caught her eye, watching him shift and sit up, curling forward to rub his face. With a small smile, she stepped inside, holding up her hand and giggling as he jumped. 

“It’s just me, don’t worry,” she chuckled, as he groaned, waving.

“...I am so fuckin’ sorry about last night, I hope I didn’t do anything stupid, I was so trashed.”

“Oh, yeah, no, I got that when you insisted this was your apartment, and kept calling me Pretty Lady.” His groan made her laugh again. “It was cute.” Lifting his head, he smiled a little, and rubbed his neck.

“You are pretty. You’re my neighbor, right?”

“Jenna.” He clicked his tongue, nodding, before patting his chest.

“I’m Harry, and I’m so sorry I threw myself at you last night.” Jenna laughed, putting her cup down, and pouring a second cup.

“Cream? Sugar?”

“Uh...splash of milk?” he said, twisting to face her. Jenna nodded, stirring it in, before she grabbed her cup, and moved to sit by him on the bed.

“You didn’t really throw yourself at me. I was gonna just let you into your place, but I didn’t want to cross a line by digging for your keys, so, I just brought you in here. Figured you’d feel better if you slept some.” Harry chuckled into his cup before sipping the dark liquid, groaning as it rushed across his tongue.

“Still.”

“Look, my night was going to be binge eating and marathoning something shitty on TV to make up for working two hours later than I wanted and pretty much wrecking my night...and sleeping, which I was doing but not intentionally when you showed up. You actually made my night a little more enjoyable.” Harry chuckled, taking another drink, before he sighed, and rubbed the back of his head.

“Still...I really appreciate you takin’ care of me last night, you didn’t have to. Not like we know each other.” Jenna hummed and shrugged, holding her cup between her hands, swirling the liquid along the bottom.

“No, but, we are neighbors. And I have been meaning to come introduce myself. Not like this, but,” she laughed, as Harry’s shoulders shook with his own laugh.

“Yeah, me too, same here,” he replied, shaking his head. “Still, Jenna, really.” She smiled over at him, and shrugged again. “You gave me water, meds, put me to bed? And coffee?”

“I’ve got stuff to make breakfast too, I just gotta find my skillet,” she laughed quietly, as Harry snickered, and shook his head.

“I’m not letting you cook breakfast,” Harry insisted, smiling. Jenna hesitated, swallowing the last drops in her cup, before she stood up to get a refill, hiding her blush from him. “But if you’ll let me, I’d like to treat.” The cup slipped in her fingers a bit as she put it on the small counter space, and she turned, curious.

“You wanna buy me breakfast?”

“It’s literally the least I could do. Is...can I do that?” Jenna blushed, but nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You don’t have any other plans this morning?”

“Just unpacking,” she admitted, shaking her head. “I’ve still got a bunch of boxes in the closet, and in the corner, and hidden under the bed, I just...keep stopping to make room.”

                            Harry’s lips quirked up in a small smile as he nodded, and looked around. The place was similar to his own across the hall, but hers looks a bit more put together, cleaner, organized than his own. That was something he blamed on sharing his place with Nikki now and then, constantly having a roommate in and out of the small space, taking some of his stuff, bringing it back, over and over.

“It looks nice, though. My place looks like shit,” he admitted, grinning over at her at the startled laugh off her lips. “Look, lemme go clean up and change and feed my frogs-”

“Yeah, you mentioned your frogs last night...how many do you have?” she asked, curious, as Harry looked up at her.

“Three...two tree frogs and a bullfrog,” Harry replied, slowly smiling as she bit her lip. “...do you wanna see them?”

“...I...really?” Laughing quietly, Harry climbed to his feet, letting her take his empty cup as he looked around, and picked up his shoes, as Jenna picked up his jacket. “Where are your keys, by the way? You couldn’t find them last night.”

“Right here,” he told her sheepishly, pulling a small key ring from his jean pockets. Jenna’s laugh was sweet in his ear as he led her across the hall, pausing to unlock his door, before he pushed it open and led her inside. “Sorry about the state of the place.”

Jenna shuffled in behind him, glancing around quickly, and shrugged. Yeah, it looked a little messier, but not in a bad way. Just more lived in, like this was his home. Jenna smiled at him, and shook her head.

“It looks fine,” she insisted, leaning down next to the end of his bed to peer in the terrarium at the frogs. “Well, hey there.”

“My friend Nikki mocks ‘em. Does a good Kermit impression, but it’s exhausting.” Jenna chuckled, looking up.

“Is Nikki the one I keep seeing around? Tall, lanky, face I could slap?” Harry’s laugh was so full it made her blush, as he nodded his head.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s him. Honestly, he’s my best friend, but he’s a huge asshole sometimes.” Jenna snorted, shaking her head a bit as she looked back in at the frogs.

“Well, to mock your frogs, he’s gotta be. Frogs are cute. Pretty much if it’s not an arachnid and it’s not about to hurt me, it’s cute,” she admitted, shrugging, looking up at him again as she stood up.

“Don’t like spiders?” he asked, moving towards his closet to put his shoes and jacket away.

“Uh, pretty sure it’s not so much that I don’t like them, more like, I hate them with the white hot fire of a thousand suns and I’m petrified of them.” Harry’s laugh was perfect, head shaking as the sound bubbled from his chest, as he dug out a change of clothes.

“Well, don’t worry, I don’t have any spiders...and if I do, not for long,” he replied, as she glanced down at the frogs looking up at her. Smiling, Jenna pushed her hair off her face, and motioned to the door.

“I’ll...I’m gonna let you clean up and change, I’m gonna go change, too…” she told him, starting back to the door.

“Okay. I shouldn’t be long, I’ll come knock,” he promised, glancing over with a grin, as she waved, and closed the door behind her, heading back across the hall to her place.

             When she answered the door, Jenna didn’t think twice about what it meant, really. She was just going to help Harry. But he was so nice, and he had the best smile, and he just made her feel comfortable. They went out for breakfast a few blocks away, a little hole in the wall with good bacon. Jenna really didn’t feel alone in the city anymore, after they headed back to their building, the way he grinned at her, and hugged her tight before letting her go.

“Thanks again, for last night…”

“Anytime,” Jenna promised, biting her lip. “I’d rather you drunkenly mistake my apartment for yours than fall down the steps or get hurt.” Harry smiled brightly, and nodded, chuckling.

“Still. Look, uh...I don’t have any plans tonight. You wanna catch a movie or something?” Jenna parted her lips, surprised, before he quickly held up his hand. “You don’t have to, it’s not, I mean, I just, you know, I figured it’d be fun to do something without me being trashed.”

“No, it’s, Harry, it’s okay,” she laughed, shaking her head, catching his hand. “You just surprised me, no, I...I don’t know what’s playing or anything, but a movie sounds good. But I have a shit ton of movies in my closet, we can always...I mean, I have a TV.” Harry laughed quietly, rubbing his neck as he nodded.

“Let’s do that. There’s a pizza place downtown, best pie, seriously. So...I’ll bring dinner?” Jenna grinned, nodding.

“Sounds good. Seven?”

“Sounds good!” he laughed, squeezing her hand before they headed into their apartments.

             It was easy, after that. Jenna was happy to have a friend that was across the hall, not across the country, and Harry always seemed to have fun when they got together. It was usually for breakfast, or a beer over a shitty movie, at least once a week, but it was still friendship, and it still made her feel good about living in Los Angeles.

              Several months after his first time knocking on her door, as Jenna was setting up for movie night, she heard a laugh outside before a knock, and, smiling, she padded over, pulling open the door. Harry grinned at her, before he looked over his shoulder.

“Hey, I know it’s movie night, but...hey, Nik, c’mere.” Jenna looked up, smile fading a little, at the sight of the friend that Harry had talked about, that she’d seen but never met. “Hey, Nikki, this is Jenna, Jenna, Nikki.” Biting her lip, she waved at him, looking back at Harry with an uncertain look. “Nikki’s plans fell through, so I was just gonna go with him to the bar...is...is that okay?” Jenna stared at him for a minute, brow furrowed, trying to figure out what he was telling her, before she cleared her throat to hide the way that weighed in her stomach.

“Oh...oh, yeah, no, that’s fine,” she finally said, forcing a small chuckle. “Uh...yeah. We’ll just...we’ll have movie night another time, no big deal,” Jenna told him, shrugging, hoping he couldn’t hear dinner cooking behind her. “You two have fun.”

“Thanks, Jen. You’re the best,” Harry chuckled, ducking in to hug her quickly, before turning to pat Nikki on the arm, jogging down the steps. Nikki glanced at her, but she ducked her head back into her apartment and shut the door, turning to look over at the stove. Chewing at her bottom lip, Jenna let her shoulders fall, and moved to the kitchen to shut everything off.

                The laughs in the hallway were loud as she drifted in and out that night, but Jenna didn’t really register any of the noise until she heard one particularly loud cackle. Jerking upright, she held her breath, looking around, before she heard the noise outside. WIth a heavy sigh, rubbing her hands over her face, Jenna threw her blanket back, and padded towards the door, peering through the peephole to see Harry and Nikki by his door. He seemed to be patting his pockets, as though he couldn’t find his keys, and despite her urge to go back to bed, Jenna felt bad about leaving him in this state.

               Forcing a breath through her nose, Jenna clicked on her light, and unlocked the door, peering out as Harry turned, cringing at the sight of her.

“Hey! Pretty lady!” She couldn’t help chuckling, and shaking her head, hoping she didn’t look as tired as she felt.

“Harry, did you lose your keys again?” she asked gently, as Harry shrugged, sheepish.

“Maaybe.” Nikki snorted beside him, as Jenna sighed, and stepped back, waving them in.

“Come on. You guys can share the bed.” Harry scrunched up his face, and stuck out his tongue, blowing a raspberry as they shuffled in.

“I don’t wanna share with him, he smells.”

“I don’t smell,” Nikki whined, pushing Harry as Jenna shut the door, rubbing her eyes. God, she was going to regret opening the door.

“Your breath smells, an’ you sleep with your mouth open,” Harry grumbled, the two stumbling towards the bed. Jenna sighed, caught him, and shook her head, sitting Harry down, before she dug her sleeping bag out of the closet.

“Okay, both of you stink right now, so shut up,” she told them, as Harry giggled, and scrunched up his face.

“I do not.”

“You smell like beer and smoke. It’s bad on him, but fine, you smell fine,” Jenna conceded, blushing a bit as she rolled out the sleeping back, and nudged Nikki, pointing. “You get the bag.”

“Camping!” Nikki laughed, toppling awkwardly down on the bag as Jenna rolled her eyes, and tossed him a pillow. With a shake of her head, she turned to Harry, helping him out of his shoes and his jacket, before flipping on the fan, and tucking him in.

“Nice Jenna.”

“I know, I’m nice,” she told him, disappearing from his sight and returning a moment later with medicine and water, both of which she set on the nightstand. “Now go to sleep. Both of you.”

“Nice Jenna.” She smiled, glancing down at Harry, before turning and stepping over Nikki to click the light off. As soon as the room went dark, her smile was gone, and Jenna quietly moved to the chair in the corner, curling up in it, hoping she could fall back to sleep in the silence of the room.

                       Softly whimpering, Jenna shifted, twisting around, as she curled up more, feeling herself slip between sleep and waking, before snuggling back into her pillow. For a few minutes, Jenna clung to sleep, fingers clenching at her blanket.

                      Until she realized she was in her bed.

                      Eyes opening, she furrowed her brow, and rolled carefully onto her back, glancing around her apartment. She could hear snoring from the floor, but after a moment, and blinking repeatedly, Jenna caught sight of Harry slipping back in from the balcony, pausing to flick the cigarette butt off the balcony, and wiping his hand on his shirt.

“...did you put me in my bed?” she asked softly, as he looked up, surprised.

“Oh...yeah...you seemed uncomfortable, and...he’s still sleeping on your other bed,” Harry replied, apologetically, as you glanced over, seeing Nikki snoring against your spare pillow. “Sorry about last night, Jen.”

“It’s okay,” Jenna replied, waving her hand, and sighing, glancing over at her clock. “Ugh. It’s still early, come back to bed.” Harry blinked at her, startled, as Jenna flopped back on the bed.

“...I can just...I can go home…”

“Nope,” she replied quickly. “He’s your friend, you can’t leave him here...but the bed’s big enough,” she insisted, adjusting her body closer to the side. “Come back to bed, too early to be up and about.”

“...you want me to share the bed with you?” he asked, and Jenna hesitated, brow furrowed at the uncertainty in his voice.

“...I...Harry, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t okay,” Jenna replied quietly, shrugging, without looking over at him. “But I won’t make you, or anything. I just...didn’t think it was a big deal, considering we share the bed during movie night.”

                      Harry chuckled, knowing he had to give her that one, before he moved across the floor, and climbed onto the bed behind her, nestling down on top of the blanket. Jenna scrunched up her face, and shifted, pressing her face into her pillow to muffle her sigh as she let her eyes shut. Any chance she thought she had of falling back to sleep was gone, worried she’d been seeing more in their friendship than was actually there.

                      Even after being there almost a year, now, he was the only real friend she had in the city. Her coworkers were okay, they carried conversation well enough, but she wouldn’t call them friends, not really. It wasn’t like they hung out together, or invited her to join them after work or anything, and she was relatively okay with that. But she’d been so sure that there was more to the friendship she’d made with Harry, that he liked her - hell, the first time they met, he called her pretty lady, he didn’t stop flirting with her. But aside from him saying it the night before, he hadn’t brought it up since that first night.

                      Jenna wasn’t a stranger to being mistaken. She just didn’t like the way it felt.

                      When Nikki finally woke up, Harry nearly shoved him across the hall to his place, mainly so his friend didn’t get sick all over Jenna’s apartment. He flashed a grateful smile back at Jenna before closing her door, but as soon as it clicked in place, Jenna got up, digging out her laundry basket, and dumped her sleeping bag, pillow cases, and other bedding into it. After tucking her jar of laundry change into the corner of the basket, she tucked her feet into her shoes, grabbed her bag, and left, locking up behind her as she hurried to her car, desperate to get out of her apartment.

                      After doing the laundry, Jenna was reluctant to go home, and instead, she drove out to the beach, spending the rest of her day with her toes in the sand, taking a break to grab an ice cream and a water. She didn’t go in the water, but she tried to relax as best she could otherwise, watching the clouds roll across the sun. The breeze cooled down, small spats of rain landing on her skin, but Jenna didn’t mind, staying firm in the sand as she watched other people bolt like they’d been struck. It was a couple more hours before finally giving in to the rumbling of her stomach. With a sigh, Jenna got into her car, glancing out the windshield as the rain started to come down a little stronger. She paused to order pizza, before she headed back home, barely getting her door shut and her basket put down before she heard the knock on the door.

                      The box was half empty, Jenna curled up amongst her clean bedding as she watched the movie on her TV, chewing absentmindedly. The sudden plunge into darkness made her shriek, flailing a bit as she blinked rapidly. It took her a few seconds to realize it wasn’t her, it was the power, as she carefully climbed off the bed, patting around her night table for her small flashlight.

“Jenna?” Harry called through the door, as she blushed. “I heard you shout, you okay?” Carefully making her way across her room, Jenna tugged the door open, peering out at him as he moved his flashlight off her face. “Hey! You okay?”

“Yeah, I just...I was watching TV, it...it startled me,” she admitted, shaking her head. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay...do you have a flashlight?”

“Yeah, it’s on my nightstand,” she replied, leaving him at the door, and moving to dig it out of the drawer. As she clicked it on, she turned around to see him, squinting at his flashlight. “You know, it’s not all that late, I’m surprised your home.”

“It’s Saturday, I thought we could do movie night tonight,” Harry admitted, shrugging, as Jenna snorted, and shook her head.

“Yeah, uh...good luck?” Chuckling a bit, Harry shook his flashlight, and pointed behind him.

“We can take a drive, see if the theaters are still on?” he offered, smiling. “I owe you movie night.” Jenna turned away from his light, shining her flashlight on the bed as she picked up the pizza, and shrugged a bit as she moved to put it on the stove.

“I mean...you don’t have to.” Harry furrowed his brow, chuckling a bit.

“Is that you saying you don’t want to go? Or…?” Jenna considered it, before looking down at herself, and sighing.

“Let me change my clothes,” she finally agreed, smiling, and moving to grab something to change into before shutting herself in the bathroom.

                      The theater was running, but after seeing the thick line down the block, Jenna and Harry shared a look before driving on, moving aimlessly until he finally headed up to the cliffs overlooking the water. The rain grew heavier as he parked the car, chuckling a bit as he shut off the car, back windows cracked just enough for air.

“What were you watching before the power went out?” he asked, curious, as she snickered, and shook her head.

“Scream. It’s my favorite scary movie,” Jenna replied with a slight shrug. “Actually, it was just at the part where the principal sees the killer in his office when the power went out, which is part of why I shrieked,” she admitted, as he tossed his head with a laugh. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I can’t help it, that’s awesome,” Harry replied, bumping his arm with hers. Jenna blushed, snickering, as she rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, about last night,” he told her. Jenna glanced over, curious. “You know...bailing on you, and then waking you up.”

“Oh...yeah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” she answered, shaking her head. “I just ate some junk and fell asleep.”

                      Jenna didn’t want to add she’d only fallen asleep about an hour before he woke her up, because she couldn’t relax - she’d gotten so used to their movie nights helping her relax, that when he cancelled the night before, she had trouble readjusting.

                      Harry peered over at her, lips ticking up a bit.

“Still. Look, I’m actually gonna make it up to you, so we’re gonna do two movie nights this week, okay? You get to pick the movies.” Jenna laughed, shaking her head.

“You seriously don’t need to do that, Harry, it’s fine. This is nice,” she insisted, leaning back in her seat and looking out through the windshield.

“I know I don’t need to,” Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “I want to. It was kind of dick last night, dropping plans at the last minute. And I would’ve invited you,” he started, as Jenna scoffed.

“Harry…”

“But we went to a strip joint - not sure if you would’ve wanted to go? - and I’ve got a feeling you don’t like Nikki.” Jenna blushed then, rubbing her neck, before she laughed softly.

“I don’t...hate him? But he makes a lot of noise when he comes and goes, and when I hear him yammering on the balcony in the morning, he sounds like a jackass.” Harry snorted so hard, Jenna had to turn and look to make sure he was okay.

“He’s just really cocky. Like, absurdly confident. Spent a long time getting any girl he wanted.” Jenna grumbled, making Harry snicker as he leaned on the console towards her. “He, uh...yeah, he learned his lesson, at least as far as that goes. It was kind of like a sweet karma,” Harry promised, smirking, “so he’s actually better now than he used to be. Still kind of a jackass, though.” That made her laugh, the sound actually making Harry blush as he looked at her, not realizing until she leaned forward that the rain was easing up.

“Hey...I think it’s stopped...you wanna get out for a few?” she asked, turning her head to look at him, fingers catching her hair to tuck it behind her ear. With a soft smile, Harry nodded, climbing out with her, and pausing to grab one of his jackets out of the backseat to rest on the hood as he pulled her in, and sat with her.

                      For a few minutes, they were quiet, the rain barely even spitting now, nothing that bothered either of them, watching the waves crash on the shore. He felt her shift a few times before glancing over, biting his lip as she rubbed her arm. The temperature had dropped with the sudden storm, but Harry, sheepishly, hadn’t noticed she’d come out without her coat. Shrugging his shoulders, he pulled off his hoodie, looping it over her shoulders as she jumped, and glanced over.

“Oh...are you sure?”

“Yeah, I got this,” he smiled, tugging at the long sleeved plaid shirt he had underneath. Blushing, Jenna quietly thanked him, sliding her arms into the sleeves as she hugged the soft fabric to her body.

                      Their knees knocked together, the two sharing small smiles, and soft chuckles. Jenna felt nervous for the first time in a long time, not used to spending this kind of time with Harry. The time they were together was usually with terrible food, ridiculous movies, or beer (or all three), not leaning into each other on the hood of the car watching the water after a storm. It felt romantic, as she chewed at her bottom lip.

“...hey, Harry?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound as anxious as she felt, as he bumped his arm against hers, and turned his head.

“Yeah?”

“I was...I wanted to talk to you...about something.” When he nodded, something she caught in her periphery, Jenna furrowed her brow, and cleared her throat. “...look, I...I really like you, Harry, and I don’t...I don’t mean as just a friend, kinda...kinda more than that?” she said, almost like she wasn’t sure, tilting her head in his direction. “I mean...I’m not...I’m not asking, I do...like you as more than a friend. I mean, you’ve been a great friend, I just...I really...I have a crush on you,” Jenna admitted, biting her lip, “and I was...I was wondering if maybe we could go out...on a...on an actual date...if you want?”

                      Harry didn’t say anything, or move, so at first, Jenna just figured he was trying to filter through her rapid fire speech, but after a moment, she lifted her head to look at him, heart thumping violently against her ribs as he just...stared at her. She wanted to press him, ask him to just say something, but whatever was hiding behind that surprised look was most likely something she didn’t want to hear.

                      The words were on her tongue, nevermind, and I’m sorry, just forget it, but before she could take a breath to get the strength to say them, the skies opened up again, the water not even starting easily, pouring down on them hard enough make her squeal, startled, the two darting back into the car. Harry bit his tongue, twisting the key in the ignition to start the car, glancing over at her as she curled up, almost as though she were hiding in his jacket. Sighing, Harry buckled his seatbelt, flipping on the wipers as he drove them back through the city to their building.

                      Harry had barely parked before Jenna unhooked her seatbelt, and opened the door, grabbing her bag from between her feet as she got out of the car, and started inside, tucking her bag under the jacket to keep it somewhat dry as the rest of her got soaked as she jogged up the steps. It had been such an uncomfortable ride, both of them silent as Jenna tried to figure out how to unsay what she’d told Harry. She just wanted to go inside.

                      Jingling her keys, Jenna huffed, trying to quickly find the one for her door, when she fumbled them, flinching as they clattered at her feet. Before she could pick them up, she felt a hand curl around her elbow, pulling at her.

“Harry,” she started, sighing, turning towards the pressure.

                      His other hand cupped her jaw, lips smashing against hers, before she could finish her thought, his cold, wet lips sealing over hers. For a second, Jenna stood still, eyes wide, before she let them fall shut, and curled her free hand around the back of his head, kissing him back almost carefully. The feeling of him pulling away made her whimper, panting softly as his forehead bumped hers.

“...what….” she started, at a loss for words, as he sighed, thumb rubbing across her cheek.

“Of course I wanna go on a real date with you, pretty lady,” he murmured, making her laugh, surprised.

“...really?” she asked, opening her eyes to see him, as he nodded, sliding his hand up her arm to cup her jaw in both hands. Jenna blushed, face warming against the chill of the storm, as she leaned in, brushing her lips against Harry’s again.

                      The door slammed against the frame as they stumbled into his apartment, her jacket and bag and his overshirt shrugged off and dropped to the floor, before she rucked up his t-shirt, moaning at the feeling of his warm abdomen twitching beneath her cold fingers. The giggle was soft in her throat as they stumbled onto his bed, one arm curling around her waist to haul her up far enough to keep her from kicking the end of the bed, and he leaned away from her, just long enough to drag his shirt over his head, arms falling to catch himself on the bed only to see she’d tossed her shirt too.

“Pretty lady,” he mumbled, making her blush, her hands curling around his head to pull him down as she kissed him softly, bumping her nose against his.

“Handsome fella,” she replied faintly against his lips.

                      As their lips slid together, the chill from the storm quickly disappearing under the warmth of their breath, Jenna dragged her fingers down his chest and abdomen until she plucked at his belt, the studs on the leather digging into her palms as she yanked it open, before plucking the button of his jeans, her hands slipping inside the dark, damp denim to warm his hips, and along the small of his back as she pulled him closer. Harry shifted his weight to one hand, dragging his other hand across her shoulder to pull down the strap on her bra, fingers trailing down her chest to cup her breast in his palm.

“Hey, man, you weren’t answerin’ your phone, so I was think-oh, come on dude!” Jenna scrambled for the blanket, yanking it over her as Harry pulled back and twisted around sharply, to see Nikki in the doorway, shaking his head but not leaving.

“Damnit, Nikki, I didn’t give you the key so you could walk in without fucking knocking, man,” Harry snapped, moving to cover Jenna, as he climbed to his feet. She groaned, rolling up into a ball away from the door, and swearing softly at herself, as Harry moved towards Nikki.

“Dude, I tried to reach you, you weren’t answering your phone, man.”

“Clearly, I was doing something better than entertaining you. Get out, go find someone else to take you wherever,” Harry ordered him, pushing him towards the door.

“Finally gettin’ the girl, eh, Harry? Nice, nice, okay, let me know how it goes, I’m gonna go to the bar.”

“Out!” Harry laughed, shoving Nikki into the hall as he shut the door and flipped the locks. With a sigh, he turned, blushing, to see Jenna fixing her bra, pushing the blanket off her as she moved for her shirt. “...Jen.”

“I should...I should go,” she said quietly, humming as Harry caught her around the waist, bumping his nose against hers as she looked up at him.

“Please stay...We don’t have to do anything, but...just ignore Nikki. He’s better than he used to be, but he still thinks the Main Mission is to have sex with whoever we want. That’s not how I think,” Harry promised. Jenna bit her lip as she looked up at him, before leaning up, lips brushing his.

“I really like you, Harry,” she admitted, voice low, as he reached up to brush her hair off her face.

“I really like you too, pretty lady.” Her laugh was sweet as she wrapped her arms around his waist, head resting on his shoulder as he hugged her back. “Stay?”

“...okay,” she agreed, laughing as he pulled her back onto the bed, and fumbled them around until their feet were tangled together, her head nestled in against his chest. “Harry?” she whispered, fingers playing lightly with the big silver ring on his pinky, as he tilted his head a bit against hers.

“Hm?”

“...you owe me breakfast in the morning.” The warm rush of his breath as he laughed into her hair made her blush, and grin, as he kissed the top of her head.

Driving west down the 105 had never been so exciting. Harry recognized the route as you led him through Gramercy Park, spending enough time in Jesse Owens growing up to call it his old stomping ground. You thought it was funny and slowed as you passed the park, offering him a glance at the past. It wasn’t what he remembered. Cleaner and he jokingly whined about it as you pulled forward and continued toward your home. The car wasn’t as flashy as it could be. He liked that. Filled with details from your life, the vehicle wasn’t for show, it was well used, unlike the shiny silver cars he used to press bored housewives against, hoping their husband’s would turn a blind eye or at least that the backseat is wide enough for two. That wasn’t his thing anymore. Not really. 

The bright blue door stuck against the thick white stucco exterior, but you looked marvelous leaning into the wooden turquoise backdrop as you pulled him in for another kiss. Harry pushes his hands against the door, caging you in with his arms as best he could before they dropped to your body again. Why would he stop touching you when he didn’t have to? You pull away long enough to unlock the door, but while you’re fiddling away with the key, Harry is doing his best to distract you. Hands up the front of your shirt, lips against your shoulder and cheek, his hips urging you forward until both of you stumble over the threshold and it’s his turn to be backed into the other side of the door. The house matches your car, lived in and comfortable yet well out of his price range. His eyes are drawn to the open floor plan and the colorful details that fill it. Though your lips are still dancing with his, moving down to his neck and chest, the intimacy of the ride and the front steps has evaporated in the bright entryway, it has no place amongst empty shelves. You were clearly still moving in after the changes as he found plastic tubs lining the entry, ready to be unloaded back into the fray. The most evidence of life is in the kitchen, but Harry’s eyes are falling everywhere else. It’s new, he can tell, and even without having seen it before, he wholeheartedly approves of the changes you made. It’s smaller than the houses his friends like to haunt, but he likes it. He’s enamored with the space and with the way you pull away from his kiss, he knows he’s been caught. Shit. Maybe he is just like Nikki. 

“You seem pretty distracted,” you pointed out, stepping away from his wandering hands to follow the wandering of his eyes instead. 

“It’s an impressive space,” he grins, allowing himself one final sweep for effect before gazing upon your shrinking form. 

“Yeah, I get it,” you snap, ignoring Harry’s falling smile to turn back into the kitchen. He’s still standing there dumbfounded when you close the refrigerator, eyes on your throat as you drink from the glass water bottle and widening as an identical bottle is thrust into his palm. His eyes, blue in both color and mood, follow your movement to the other side of the island. Your mouth drops open just as he’s about to speak and he shut himself up immediately to listen. “Look, I like you and I want this,” Harry can't ignore the defeatist tone in your voice, but he still revels in that admission. “Can we… can we just pretend this-“ your hand goes out to encapsulate the room around you. “-isn’t why you’re here?” 

Harry stopped in his tracks, choking on the dust of his empty pockets. These moments lose something once the veil is torn. Its innocence, the initial sweetness, where she’s just a girl and he’s just a boy and that even if he had something worth going home to he simply wouldn’t want to. It loses something when they call it out too fast, though his friends would disagree. Harry can’t help, but feel dirty in a way his friends simply couldn’t. One look at you and he knew you saw through the simple proposition. There’s no denying it, you drove him there yourself, unlocked the door for him, kissed him back when he’d pressed you up against it. You took one look at the torn sleeves beneath his vest and the leather chain that dangled from his neck and knew that he’d probably be gone when you woke up, like you’d wanted the first time. That’s how these things go. 

“I’d take you out first, but it’s kind of late…” he noted slowly, hoping you weren’t about to drag him out for another overpriced meal. Harry glanced over your shoulder and you broke into a teasing smile. 

“And we’ve already established that you can't afford me.”

Harry snorted and nodded his slowly. “That is true,” he said, before smiling back. His hands wouldn’t stop moving if his life depended on it. Long fingers with a mind of their own dancing up your chest to cup the breasts he’d pictured too many times while alone. “You… you’re totally out of my league.” You grinned, clearly it was the right thing to say. For the first time, Harry didn’t feel like he had to backtrack with a woman. 

“I’m here,” Harry grins, leaning on his elbows to meet you halfway across the clean white countertops, “for only one thing.” You hum and lift your eyebrows expectantly, but the posture you held isn’t disinterested. Your mouths are a breath apart once more and Harry wishes he had something better to say. “You,” he whispers, feeling the gentle caress of your upper lip against his, just before you’re backing away from him again, this time to laugh. 

“Okay,” you shake your head and Harry thinks it’s in disbelief, like even you are surprised that his cheap charm is working. At least he hoped it was working. You’re still shaking your head as he slinks around the counter, eager for another touch. “Pretty smooth for a guy called Harry.” 

Now he’s the one laughing and the sound catches him off guard. He can’t remember the last time he laughed so earnestly with another person. Friend or fix up, it didn’t matter. The city of angels had all but sucked him dry of these honest displays that you pull from him so effortlessly. There are no words for this kind of surprise, so he’s kissing you again and it’s as honest as his laughter. Your smile is caught between his lips and your hands are curled tight in the thin fabric of his t shirt, fists digging into his lower back. His hands come up to either side of your neck and he can feel the vibration of a lingering giggle against his palms. It isn’t usually like this and he wonders if somehow, despite the simple intent being out in the open, the sweetness has remained. He wants it to. He doesn’t want to be gone in the morning, doesn’t want a one time thing, but that’s what you’ve been building up to and he’s so vexed by the feeling of your body under his hands, he doesn’t care that you’ll leave him too. Just before he can totally lose his head and his hands can wander too far south, you’re parting for breath. 

“Am I going to see you again?” You ask quietly and the words hold meekness he didn’t think you could muster with all your confidence. The girl who’d ran from her own hotel room to get away from him was worried he’d be the one absconding next. Not a chance. 

“Guaranteed,” he grins and accepts the kiss you offer from your tiptoes. In a flash, you’re moving through the house and Harry is free to gaze upon your wealth all he pleases and ponder what Nikki has presented for him, even though he knows it’s poison. Inexplicably, though, his eyes don’t move from where you’re moving, more captivating than anything else in the space. Greedily, he follows, wanting more than to just watch. You giggle when he catches up to you and without knowing where he was headed, he pushes in your bedroom door on the first try and closes it tight behind you. 

[ click here for  S M U T  you filthy animals ]

“Okay….” you sighed, drawing his attention up again. “That was better than I expected.”

“You doubted me?” His voice was loud in the suddenly quiet room, no wet sounds or heavy breathing to hide the faux offense. He rolled away from your legs until he was laying on his stomach next to you. You turned to the side and brushed his hair back again. He could quickly become addicted to a feeling like that and he was sure that there was just a mess atop his head. “Your mistake,” he teased. 

You only hummed in response and leaned in to kiss him once before sliding away and disappearing into the bathroom just like he had before. Harry rolled onto his back, folding his arms behind his head as he waited for your return. When your appearance wasn’t immediate, he propped himself up to watch through the half open door. You were already dressed again in a t shirt and athletic shorts that fluttered below the curve of your butt with every step you took. You were opening and closing drawers,he watched -like a creep- as you pulled your hair back to wash your face. 

“Should I go?” He asked, already starting to stand and move toward his clothes. When you poked your head out of the bathroom, your toothbrush was hanging from your mouth and you seemed entirely unphased. 

“If you want to,” you offered shortly before disappearing back into the bathroom. Harry put his white t shirt back on, tugging it down over the waist of his boxers and kicked the rest of his clothes into a pile by the door. He took two steps before turning back and making sure everything was laid out across the bench at the foot of your bed. 

Testing out those fresh hardwood floors, Harry slid by on his heels, socks gliding over the dark surface like an ice skater only to stop and lean his chest against the bathroom door frame. Only his head and one arm were technically in the room with you and he waited, watching you from up close this time. You didn’t look at him right away, instead choosing to spit and rinse while keeping your eyes on the white marble basin in front of you. Only once you were finished and had wiped your face clean did he reach out to take you by the arm, thumb brushing over the thin skin at the inside of your elbow. “What if I said I didn’t want to go?”

You smiled and once again, he thought that maybe he’d said the right thing. “Then stay.”

“Okay, I’m staying.”

“Good.”

“Great.” 

You shook your head at him and didn’t resist when he pulled you closer. “Now there’s only one thing left to figure out…” he said, voice a sultry whisper as he looked longingly at your lips. “Do you have an extra toothbrush or should I just use yours?” 

You made a disgusted face and pushed at his chest. “No way,” you shook your head. “I know where that mouth has been.” Me too.

Harry tossed his head back to snort, but followed your lead as you pulled open a drawer on your left under the second mirror. Everything he could possibly need laid out in one place. Toothbrush still in its plastic package, toothpaste, a small gold colored bin that held travel-sized shampoo and conditioner. Huh.

“This isn’t your boyfriend’s stuff is it?” He lifted his eyebrows in the mirror, watching you finish up your routine by rubbing an orange gel into your cheeks and neck. 

“Ha, no. The last thing I need right now is a relationship.”

His question was meant as a joke and you’d responded with an equally easy tone, but the second you left the bathroom to give him some privacy, Harry locked eyes with himself in the big round mirror. Not a smile in sight. 

A/N: I’ve never posted a chapter like this with a break in it before, so I’ll apologize now incase you hate it. Once again, in case you missed it, here is the dirty stuff. I don’t know if this is how I’ll do it in the future, but for this one, that’s just where we are. Otherwise you’d have a 4,000 word chapter cause my fingers wouldn’t stop making Harry the cutest lil horn dog. really. 

He didn’t know you. Not really. A one night stand, a handful of parties, one long yet entertaining car ride and most recently a clandestine tour of another man’s wine cellar that he’d definitely be thinking about later, but in reality you were still strangers to each other. He still didn’t want you to get the wrong idea. Now that he’s hustling down the winding walkway from Darius’ back patio to the street, he doesn’t waste time trying to figure out why he cares so much. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he tried, kicking up his feet in a jog to catch up. The jingle of the chain clipped to his belt loop was louder out in the open and he self consciously tucked it into his pocket. He thought he heard you say you didn’t care, but you didn’t stop walking away from him either. “Would you look at me?” You spun quickly to face him and Harry nearly found himself putting the ass in asphalt as he tried not to plow through you. You’d caught him off guard and suddenly he wasn’t sure what to say. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Smooth.

After a few tense seconds, your hands dropped from your hips and dangled freely in a resigned posture. “I’m not hurt, Harry, you don’t owe me anything.” His immediate response was to argue, but he hardly knew what he disagreed with. “You’re a grown ass man, kiss whoever you want,” you shrugged. “Just because I’m not looking for a relationship doesn’t mean I wanna screw up someone else’s.”

“It isn’t a relationship,” he defended even though he believed you. You didn’t look upset. You didn’t look happy to see him either and he selfishly wanted that part back. Textbook people pleaser and he was kicking himself for it. “She calls me when she’s bored.”

“So you were bored?” You clarified and he didn’t like it. He didn’t kiss you because he was bored. He was bored, but he wanted to kiss you. That fact hadn’t changed since he met you. He might have forgotten for a moment, but the second he spotted you, it all came back to him. Not because he was bored. No.

“I didn’t say that,” he frowned awkwardly.

“You came out tonight… with a girl that only wants you when she’s bored.” Yeah, so? “Either you’re a gigolo or you were bored too.”

Harry was almost certain there was a wrong answer, but he wasn’t sure if there was a right one. You must have sensed his nervousness because the grace you offered in the form of a teasing smile felt like cool water splashed over his face, the fever instantly gone. Once he could breathe again, Harry grinned back and shoved his hands in his pockets, stepping up next to you as you resumed walking down the hill. “I’m not a gigolo.”

“Too bad,” you laughed and he knocked his hip into yours. You returned the gesture and he stumbled a bit off balance…. and now all he could think about were those hips, wider and clearly more powerful than his. He knew what it felt like to grip them tight. The term “for dear life” came to mind. But what else would they do to him if he was given the opportunity? He was more than a little eager to find out. 

“So…” he slurred, looking around the car lined street, significantly quieter than the house. “We’re not going back, right?”

“Right,” you laughed. Before he got the chance to suggest something stupid like going back to his place, you saved him from the embarrassment. “I’m starving,” you looked over your shoulder at him and Harry grinned back.

“I can always eat.”

He’d said it so confidently fine with spending more time with you, but he hadn’t expected to be standing in front of a fancy restaurant at 9:30 on a Thursday night. He certainly hadn’t padded his wallet for something like Taix when he left his apartment thinking he’d be dipping into a party and then out of that girl’s bed well before midnight. The only thing padding his wallet was a condom and unlike all of the cash folded behind it, it apparently would remain unused.

“No one just craves French cuisine,” he teased, hoping you’d agree and pull him away for a burger and fries.

“I do,” you quipped back, not even bothering to look at the menu. You were on a mission and as a waiter in a crisp white shirt and black bow tie approached, Harry guessed he was about to find out what it was. Short ribs and a beet salad. A weird craving. “I’ll never finish it all, so get something different and have some of mine.” It was a genuine offer, he could tell and he smiled back. A small, shy little quirk of the lips that made you frown and the smile fell away completely. He’d planned on offering to pay for your meal, but with the wine that was promised to be paired with the meal, it was going to be well over $50 for you alone. Beyond what he was able to swing that night.

“Uh, French onion soup looks good.”

“And for your entree?” The waiter probed. Shit. Harry looked back at the slick leather folder in his hands and realized he’d ordered from the Hors d’oeuvre menu. After hemming and hawing for too long, you politely asked the gentleman on your left to give you a few more minutes to decide and Harry was equally relieved and embarrassed.

“Ok... What’s the deal?”

“What do you mean?” Harry didn’t have to look across the table to know what you were getting at. 

“Get the Steak Frites, it’s good and you said you wanted fries,” you said simply, as if it was obvious. It was anything but. He tried to argue and you pushed back, but not rudely. It was a good place, you pulled him from his plans, he deserved something tasty to close out the night. All good and valid points. Harry didn’t have much by way of macho pride, but the miniscule amount he kept tucked away was a little sore anyways. 

“I can’t afford this place,” he admitted sharply before tucking his forehead into his hands, realizing that the surrounding tables had heard him. It wasn’t like it was shocking. He was wearing a leather vest and his shoes had distressed blue and white stars stitched above worn rubber soles that were more gray than white now. It wasn’t a fashion statement, it was just him. Clearly he didn’t belong there. He wished he could ignore that for you, for no other reason than wanting to see you again. The way the night was going, he wasn’t sure he’d get another chance. 

“You couldn’t afford to eat at the Roosevelt either, but you did,” you pointed out and he rolled his eyes.

“This is different,” he said through his teeth. He wasn’t mad, just uncertain. He couldn’t get his footing with you and it was frustrating. Yes he’d taken you up on your offer to linger at the expensive hotel after sex, but having dinner after a steamy make out felt different. He just hoped you wouldn’t ask him how since he had no clue. It just was.

You waited a moment, but when he didn’t have anything else to add, you nodded and waved the waiter back over to your table with a smile. You reached across the table and squeezed his forearm gently. Harry looked up from his shame and smiled back, still awkward but appreciative. Finally, you were leaving and he could stop making an ass of himself.

“Steak Frites,” you said and his eyes widened to the size of the dinner plates he couldn’t afford. You asked about cocktails and Harry knew his mouth hung open, having a conversation in code right in front of him about whiskeys he’d never even heard of. But you can’t make a real Old Fashioned out of Old Crow. Not in a place like this. Once the garçon was satisfied with the order, you turned to look across the table and held out your hand. “It’s on me, Harry. I was the one that wanted to come here, it’s only fair.” He took your hand and didn’t let go until he had to, dishes and drinks suddenly occupying the middle of the table and your attention.

Half way through the meal, which even Harry had to admit was the best he’d had in years, pride be damned, a stout gentleman in a heavy white coat emerged from the kitchen expressly to interrupt your meal. He planted a big kiss on each of your cheeks and Harry stumbled slightly while trying to stand with his hand outstretched. It was batted away and he received the same treatment, stiffening at the feel of a thick mustache against his cheeks. The conversation was short lived and that’s when Harry learned your secret to scoring tables at fancy French restaurants without reservations. You have to know the chef. Duh.

Once the conversation was just the two of you again, Harry felt more at ease, forgetting the venue and the price of the drink warming his rapidly filling belly. He didn’t feel out of place when it was just the two of you joking and sharing anecdotes like you had in the front seat of his car. It was surprising how easy it was. He was so pleased even the beets tasted better. Usually they were like chewy dirt discs to him, but off your fork, they were divine. Maybe it was the hand that fed him that was divine. Either way, the night ended too soon. The bill paid without him even pretending to reach for his wallet. The rip of Velcro against a faux Parisian backdrop would have been too much embarrassment and he was glad he hadn’t gotten the soup so his wallet could stay firmly tucked in his back pocket. You called a car like it was nothing and asked if he needed a ride after having walked from Darius’. He started to decline, but your face told him not to. He’d be a damn fool to deny himself a dark backseat with you pressed up against him, so he held the door for you and slid in until there was no room between you. Your head was a comforting weight on his shoulder and Harry had to remind himself that it wasn’t a movie. Or a real date. Or a date at all. What was this?

He didn’t get the answer before his apartment was pulling up on the right and he scowled at the balcony through the car window. Before he could reach his door, you leaned out the window, chin propped up on your folded hands to harass him once more, thank him for his company, and remind him to call you if he decided to run away from any other obnoxious parties. He told you to call him if you had any more cravings for expensive cuisine and were feeling generous. You laughed and waved before slipping back into your seat without another glance. The car drove off, taking you with it, and Harry stood on the sidewalk with his heart beating fast, wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

After establishing a clean slate, it was another week or two before Harry saw you again.

Another party, this one even less exciting than the last. Same people, same trashy outfits, same annoying cement and pebble water feature on someone else’s big patio overlooking the Valley. Harry was exhausted from work, but came out anyways at the behest of a girl he used to fool around with before she landed the coveted “woman on table” role in CSI and insisted she needed a boyfriend who was more supportive of her creative endeavors. She was fun but apparently that wasn’t what the big execs were looking for because she’d called him instead of Chad Michael Murray. He didn’t care much, but now that Nikki was off his couch and staying with a new woman until he managed to screw that up too, he wanted to go out. Alone. And have fun without cleaning up someone else’s mess. The beer was expensive and the food had been sitting out on ice too long to look appealing, but no one ate at these things. They were there for something else, something primal. To perform, to cultivate a tribe that would bolster them, to find a mate. For a night. Longer if the sex was good.

His cynical spiraling stopped short when her arms found his waist from behind. Harry’s smile wasn’t entirely fake, content to have someone who wanted him there and was excited to see him. She clung to his hand then his wrist when their palms stuck with clammy sweat from the warm evening air. He took plenty of opportunities to slip his hand into her back pocket, so tight his rings caught on the lip. Harry sword in his head and spun her close to kiss her, distract from the way he pulled his fingers free before palming the entire seat of her low rise jeans. There was nothing to grab so he slid his palms over the pockets until he found thigh with little warning and climbed back up, hoping it was hot and not weird. Girls already thought he was weird, he couldn’t lose those early moments when his kisses and his cute smile was enough to keep them around. He was painfully aware of his strengths. Nikki could con a woman into needing him for months, years in some cases, he groaned every time he saw Lindsey, too sweet to still be pining after that asshole. Harry had a couple weeks, max, before getting lost in his own head, staring at a hurt face on the cusp of tears without a thing to say. He knew he couldn’t make it better, so he froze. Every. Single. Time. This girl was different. She wouldn’t make it that long and he didn’t care.

He didn’t. Until he spotted you. He watched from a distance for a while, the way you wove through a room it looked like you’d rather not be in without looking smug or self righteous. The kitchen lights bounced off the shiny material of your jacket and Harry was determined not to lose you.

“Need a drink,” he mumbled while pulling away from her grabby hands.

“No, I’m okay, I’ve- hey!”

It wasn’t a question. Harry removed her legs from his lap, tossing them onto the lounge as gently as he could before holding up his hands apologetically and ducking into the crowd.

Through the giant windows, he could see you perusing the interior. It was a beautiful night and most people were huddled around the pool or one of the many diy bar carts scattered around. Slipping inside, he realized how much quieter it was and snapped the sliding door shut behind him. He briefly considered locking it. You looked up at the sound and your eyes softened remarkably. If you were happy to see him too, he’d have hit the jackpot.

“Didn’t take you for a creep.”

The half laugh half scoff that followed was cute. “Excuse me?” Your eyebrow cocked up and Harry put on his best smirk before letting it melt away into something more innocent and befitting the tone.

“Everyone else is outside,” he pointed out, crossing the room to plant his palms flat on the black marble island between you. “But you’re in here, alone… lurking.” You shook your head at him, but you were smiling.

“I’m not a party guest.”

“So this is breaking and entering?” Harry pushed up off the counter and threw an accusatory finger in your face. 

“I haven’t broken anything!” You held your hands up in surrender.

 “Then, I can only assume you’re some sort of spy.”

It wasn’t a half laugh that time. It was real and full and even though you turned your body away from him, your eyes drifted back over the counter top to his. “I don’t think Darius is important enough to spy on,” you turned away again and started walking away. So that’s whose house we’re in. Harry shrugged it off. Most of the time he made a point to know, but he hadn’t that night and suddenly he was curious. If there was a connection between you and this Darius would he find it by following you around like a puppy? Couldn’t hurt.

Harry watched your fingers drift over certain surfaces, but your eyes were everywhere, taking in every inch of the space. Some corners received more scrutiny than others and he couldn’t make out why. You’d sent him more than one flirty smile, but he’d kept his distance in case it was just hopeful thinking. At least until you opened a sleek silver door with a wink and descended the freshly revealed stairs. The passage was dark and narrow with strips of lighting under each step to illuminate the way down and nothing else. It was a confusing combination for a house so big and bright, but at the base of the stairs, you’d stopped and turned to face him and he suddenly didn’t care. Harry took the last step down and found one of his feet sandwiched between your shoes. He shuffled forward until he could feel your thighs on either side of his. Not how he pictured the night going, but he had no objections. Reaching forward, he found one of your hands quickly and pulled you closer to him. He imagined your face just in front of his and with his free hand, reached up to find your cheek. It was fast, faster than he usually went, but why else would you have beckoned him into a dark secret room and squeezed his fingers so alluringly. He was going to kiss you, he’d already decided weeks ago, when he suddenly realized the hand he wasn’t holding had been groping the wall next to him. The large overhead light flicked on at your command and nearly blinded him in surprise. Your hand slipped from his without resistance and you laughed at him as you backed away, but it only made him want to kiss you more.

Ignoring the almost moment between you, you were already off, brushing your fingers along the dimpled glass bottoms of rows and rows of wine bottles. A cellar. A nice one too, Harry noted before looking back to you.

“I wanted to see the new addition,” you explained without being asked and gestured around above your head toward the party that continue without you two. Harry wasn’t missing it all at the moment. “I didn’t know I’d have so much company when I stopped by.”

“It’s just me now,” Harry pointed out, pulling a bottle from its resting place to peruse the label. It meant nothing to him, but he let out a mumbled ‘good year’ before slipping it back into the hollowed out groove. Just in case.

“That was a surprise,” you said.

“A good surprise?” He looked up again, hopeful. You only smirked and twirled around again, suddenly finding something that needed your attention more than him. Impossible. 

Harry stepped up behind you, close enough to hear the gasp when the curve of your butt was suddenly pressed up against him. He leaned over your shoulder to speak into your ear, both hands resting on your waist. “Is this okay?” You nodded and his body was vibrating when you leaned back against him. His hands tried to slip forward to your stomach, but you quickly caught his wrists and pulled them higher. He didn’t mind at all, especially when you released his hands just before they slid over your breasts. They were more covered than the last time he saw you, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t allowed to touch them that night, not like he had before, making this moment an instant favorite. 

Your sigh was quiet and yet it bounced around in his head lighting up memories of your night together like a cerebral pinball game as he squeezed the ample flesh and groaned himself at the feeling. He squeezed again, but let one hand travel even higher. Harry stuttered over the neckline of your tank top, briefly considering a deep dive underneath, before letting his fingers continue on their journey to your jaw. The slow turn gave him a moment to lick his lips and then they were on you. Your cheek, the corner of your mouth, then hungry for more, he was shocked to find your lips already seeking his out too. The kiss was hard, but a quick adjustment of his head and Harry was in control, moving his mouth slowly and trying every combination he could think of. His lip on top, his on bottom. When you sighed again, he tried more, liking the way his tongue felt under yours. Wet sounds and soft moans drowned out the approaching footsteps, or maybe he was choosing to ignore them, until an unfortunately familiar voice was letting his name ruin the moment with zero regard for how hot it was.

Your head turned to the stairwell quickly and Harry’s lips chased yours to no avail, landing behind your ear as she drew closer. You tried to pull away, but the blessed wine racks in front of you slowed your escape. He followed you up the stairs again, stopping for half a second to remind the rude interruption in a sparkly blue tube top that he was nothing to her. He tried to make his eyes sympathetic. Nikki wouldn’t have and he’d have Harry’s balls for wording his exit that way, when she was also nothing to him. That wasn’t his way. He could admit to himself that she was no one, someone fun from the past, but he’d always cling to the fact that she only saw the same in him. A warm lap to sit on when she was bored. Which is why he didn’t care what she thought about him practically sprinting away from her without much explanation, but as he hustled through the party crowd and out into the empty street, he knew that he didn’t want you thinking of him the same way. Or worse.