CHAPTER 5
Harry was a terrible flatmate.
He was messy, he was terrible at doing laundry, he put his feet on the coffee table, he left his things all over the flat, and he monopolized the TV to watch Discovery Channel.
Harry also fancied himself something of an interior decorator. He got weird little things at a garage sale and decorated the flat, claiming that the place lacked character.
One day Adam came home to see a giant painting in the living room that depicted something that vaguely resembled someone’s puke.
“What is this, Hazza?” Adam said, torn between laughing and kissing him.
Harry beamed at him. “It’s art, silly. Isn’t it wonderful? The artist sold it to me for a mere ten pounds!”
Sometimes Adam was almost certain Harry was taking the piss, but looking into Harry’s sincere, open expression, he knew he wasn’t. Christ, Adam hadn’t known it was possible to adore such a ridiculous person.
The day Harry discovered yoga was the worst. He asked Adam to go with him to buy a yoga mat and then couldn’t make up his mind between a “sensible” brown one and a “cheerful” pink one. In the end, he bought the brown one and Adam bought him the pink one. After getting the yoga mats, Harry watched video tutorials and apparently decided he absolutely had to do yoga every evening wearing nothing but a pair of tiny white shorts that left nothing to the imagination.
Adam hated him. He hated Harry’s legs, and his oddly-shaped knees, and his ridiculous white shorts.
Except he really, really didn’t.
“You’re a masochist, mate,” Jake told him one day, a month after Harry had moved in with him.
He and Jake were lounging in front of Adam’s TV, watching a Champion’s League match. Harry, who didn’t understand the point of football, was in the kitchen, humming some song and cooking, which was his latest obsession. Harry was pretty good at it, actually, even though everything he cooked was a bit too spicy.
Adam said, “We’re just friends. Leave it.”
He ignored the look of pity on Jake’s face and focused his attention on the match.
Harry stuck his head out of the kitchen. “Anyone want ice cream? I made ice cream!”
“Sure, love,” Adam said.
“What kind?” Jake asked, shooting Adam a look that he ignored.
“Lemon,” Harry replied.
“Hmm, no thanks,” Jake said. When Harry disappeared back into the kitchen, Jake looked at Adam. “Since when do you like lemon ice cream?”
“Shut it,” Adam said without much heat.
Harry returned with a bowl of ice cream and a spoon. He gave them to Adam and snuggled up against him. “Who’s winning?” he said without much interest, slinging an arm around Adam’s middle.
“Barcelona,” Adam said, ignoring Jake’s stare, and dug into the ice cream. He brought the spoon to his mouth, swallowed, and suppressed a grimace. He really wasn’t a fan of lemons.
“You don’t like it,” Harry said, his face falling.
“No, it’s good,” Adam said. “I just don’t like lemons all that much.”
The corners of Harry’s mouth turned down. “Why didn’t you just say so?” Harry murmured. “What’s the point of my learning to cook if you don’t like it?”
Adam stared at him. “You’re learning to cook for me?”
“Of course,” Harry said, looking at Adam like he was stupid. “You said you liked home-cooked food, and I wanted...” He averted his gaze, chewing on his lip. “You do so much for me. I wanted to give something back.”
His chest tight with affection, Adam pecked him on the nose. “You don’t have to, love.”
“But I like it,” Harry said quietly. He was still not meeting Adam’s eyes, a slight blush on his cheeks. “I like doing things for you. It makes me feel good.”
Adam suddenly wondered if it was the reason Harry insisted on doing his laundry, despite being rather terrible at it.
“Okay,” Adam said, tucking the stray strand of Harry’s hair behind his ear. Harry’s hair had always fascinated him. It was so soft and shiny it felt inhuman, like the finest silk. The hair wasn’t the only thing about Harry that seemed ethereal: his skin was unnaturally flawless and soft to the touch, his eyes unnaturally violet and deep. Adam had to constantly stop himself from touching and stroking him all over.
“You need a haircut, babe,” Adam said, running his fingers through Harry’s hair. He tried not to stare at Harry’s small pink mouth.
Harry closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. “I’ve been thinking of growing it out. What do you think?”
“It’s your hair, Haz,” Adam said, raising his eyebrows a little. Lately, Harry had been asking for his opinion on his appearance all the time. Adam wasn’t sure what to think of it. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Harry wanted to look good for him, which…it was a good thing he knew better. Friends. They were just friends.
“I know it’s my hair,” Harry said, rolling his eyes with a smile. “But do you think I’d look nice with long hair? I tried to grow it out once when I was, like, twelve or thirteen, because I wanted to be like my older brother, but I just looked ridiculous. But now I actually have cheekbones, so maybe I can pull it off now? What do you think?”
Adam brushed his thumb over said cheekbones. “You’d look good,” he said, removing his hand when he noticed that Jake was watching them. “But you look good now, too.”
An hour later, as he followed Jake to the door, Adam said, “Don’t.”
Jake looked at him grimly. “Just be careful, man. He seems like a genuinely nice bloke, but the nice ones are usually the worst. You don’t notice when they stab you in the gut because you’re too distracted by their nice smiles.”
Adam said nothing. He had a feeling it was too late for him anyway.
“Jake doesn’t like me, does he?” Harry said when Adam returned to the living room.
Adam sighed inwardly. It had been probably too much to hope that Harry wouldn’t notice. Harry could be very perceptive for someone who was completely oblivious to certain things.
“He’s just a bit jealous,” he lied, sitting down next to Harry. “He used to be my closest friend. We used to hang out all the time.”
Harry looked down, an unhappy wrinkle appearing between his brows.
“It’s not your fault,” Adam said, slinging an arm around Harry and squeezing his shoulder.
“But it is,” Harry said. “I do take a lot of your attention and time.” Harry lifted his gaze. “You know the horrible part?” he said, his cheeks pink. “I’m not really sorry. I feel terrible because I don’t feel sorry about it. I like having all of your attention. You’re mine, not his.”
Don’t read too much into it.
Adam cleared his throat. “I can be both. Yours and his. It’s not mutually exclusive. It’s normal to have a few close friends.”
Harry pursed his lips. “You don’t call him babe.”
Adam blinked. “No?” What did that have to do with anything?
A little wrinkle appeared between Harry’s brows. “As long as I’m your only babe, he can be your friend, too, I guess.”
Adam gave a snort. “Thanks for your permission, you little tyrant.”
Harry laughed, having the grace to look embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m being awful. I don’t know why I’m being so awful about it. Jake is very nice, but...” He wrapped his arm around Adam’s middle and hid his face against his chest. “I never had a friend like you,” he confessed quietly. “I have many friends back home, but this is different. You’re different. I...” He lifted his head to look Adam in the eye. “I’m so happy that I met you. You make me very happy, all warm and giddy on the inside.”
Adam told himself it was the language barrier. Harry simply had trouble expressing himself and didn’t understand how his words sounded.
“I’m glad our friendship makes you happy,” Adam said, kissing Harry on the temple. “I get what you mean: it’s rare to find a person you fit so well with.”
Harry nodded. “Thank you,” he said, tugging at Adam’s t-shirt. “For putting up with my weirdness,” he clarified with a sheepish smile, tugging at Adam’s t-shirt again.
“What are you doing?” Adam said. “Is my t-shirt offending you or something?”
“I like when you wear dress shirts and button-downs—I can just unbutton the top buttons and put my face there and smell you.”
Adam stared at him. Of course he had noticed Harry’s habit of undoing the top button of his shirt when they hugged, but he’d always thought it was just one of Harry’s weird quirks.
Harry scrunched his nose up and laughed. “Did I say something weird again? I said something weird, didn’t I?”
Christ, he was so fucking cute. Adam both hated and loved Harry’s total lack of filter.
“You like how I smell?” he said, his voice huskier than he would have liked.
Harry nodded, frowning a little. “At first I thought it was your cologne. I tried it, but it doesn’t smell the same. It’s your skin. Smells really, really good.” He looked at Adam’s t-shirt with frustration before sighing and putting his head on Adam’s shoulder with a pout. It would have been adorable if Adam wasn’t busy trying to control his body. He didn’t want to imagine Harry rubbing his face against his bare chest, nuzzling into him like a kitten, then kissing his skin, licking his nipples—
Adam closed his eyes, trying to think of the most disgusting, hideous things to suppress his arousal.
“Harry,” he said.
“Mmm?” Harry said, pressing his nose against the side of Adam’s neck.
Adam gritted his teeth as Harry’s lips rubbed against his skin. His cock started hardening, despite his best efforts not to react.
“Haz, enough,” he managed, staring at the hideous painting on the wall.
“But why?”
“Because I’m only human.”
Harry lifted his head, looking at him in bemusement.
And fuck, Adam couldn’t do it anymore.
“I’m gay, Harry,” he said, pushing Harry away and getting to his feet. “Don’t you fucking get it? I’m gay. You’re an attractive guy.”
Harry stared at him, blinking, looking lost.
Fucking hell. How could Haz be so naive? Was the possibility of Adam wanting him so far-fetched that it hadn’t even occurred to him? It had never been more obvious that Harry simply didn’t even see him as a sexual being. And damn, was it a blow to his ego…Adam was willing to admit he had always been a bit cocky. Not to sound conceited, but he knew how he looked. He’d never had trouble getting anyone he wanted—except for this weird, ridiculous, charming boy he had actual feelings for. Adam was pretty sure there was irony in this, somewhere.
“I...” Harry said, his eyes wide. “You can’t—You know I don’t—You know I can’t—It’s not because you—”
Adam chuckled. “It’s not me, it’s you? Don’t bother, Haz. I get it.” He turned away and went to his room.
Half an hour later, there was a tentative knock on the door.
“Go away, Harry,” Adam said, without opening his eyes. Jake was right. He should put some distance between him and Harry, draw some healthy boundaries.
“Adam, please,” Harry said.
He sounded sad—
No, damn you. Healthy boundaries.
“Can I come in?” Harry said. His voice cracked. “Please.”
Fuck.
Adam got off the bed and went to the door. He didn’t open it, though, because he knew one look at Harry’s upset face would destroy his resolve.
“Harry, go to bed,” he said. “We’ll talk tomorrow when we are both calmer.”
“I’m calm,” Harry claimed, sounding anything but.
“You’re not,” Adam said.
“Okay, I’m not, but I won’t be calmer if I have to wait until morning to talk to you.”
Adam sighed and slid down to sit on the floor, his back to the door. “All right, talk. Make it short, though.”
“Like this? Through the door?”
“Yes,” Adam said succinctly. Harry didn’t need to know how much power his face had over him. He had some pride left.
He heard Harry sit down on the other side of the door.
For a long moment, there was only silence.
“I’m sorry,” Harry said at last. “I’m sorry for being an idiot and not realizing how uncomfortable I was making you.”
Adam frowned. That wasn’t what he expected.
“I’m just,” Harry said. “I’ve been kind of sheltered all my life. I have never been so close to... unmarried sexually active people much. So it had never been an issue before, you know? That’s why it hadn’t occurred to me that you could be... attracted to me.” There was still a note of bemusement in Harry’s voice, as if he couldn’t completely believe it.
Despite himself, Adam smiled. Harry was so odd. Hadn’t he seen himself in the mirror? Sometimes he really was like an alien, because his standards seemed so different from normal.
Adam pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s not your fault, Haz,” he said with a sigh. “This is my problem, and I already know how to deal with it.”
“How?” Harry said.
“There will be rules. We’ll both follow them.”
“What sort of rules?”
“We’ll be friends like Jake and I are friends.”
He could almost hear Harry frown. It was a little disturbing how vividly he could imagine it.
“But—but,” Harry stammered, sounding positively crushed.
“Harry,” Adam said, closing his eyes. “Please don’t make it harder.”
Harry was silent for a long time.
At last, he said, sounding absolutely deflated, “Okay. If that’s what you want.” Adam heard him get up and go to his own bedroom, the door shutting quietly after him.
“Want,” Adam repeated before laughing, the sound harsh and ugly in the silence of the room. No, that wasn’t what he wanted. But it hardly mattered.