7: Glasgow

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In the morning, unlike what most people would expect, I was perfectly at ease. I wasn't anxious about what had happened the night before. Instead of worrying how our relationship may change due to the events made in the a.m., [im sorry i couldnt help myself] I was instead completely calm and actually quite hopeful for what was to come.

But while having a hopeful feeling, I couldn't help but remember that all that had happened last night was under the guise of a fake illness. Why did Harry's attitude and actions towards me shift so drastically based on the status of my health?

It seems unrealistic and almost something out of a poorly thought out movie, but Harry's shift in feelings towards me was so startling. He went from being a kind and considerate best mate to jacking me off while i'm half asleep, all depending on whether or not i'm running a fever.

I don't even know what to call our relationship. Relationship?

I mean, I would consider us pals on tuesday and then fuckbuddies by wednesday.

It doesn't make sense, and it's now starting to really overwhelm me. I feel as though I should talk to him, but I don't know when would be the best time. When i'm feeling well? Then he may be too embarrassed or afraid to admit anything. When i'm sick? Then I may be speaking to a temporary Harry; a different side of him.

Though everything in me tells me to refrain from doing so, I turn to the sleeping Harry who i'm currently sharing a bunk with, and start to speak to him as I nudge him awake.

"Harry...Harry you up?" I say to the slightly open eyes belonging to the younger boy.

"Yes love." Harry says back to me. His voice is low and groggy and oh so hot.

"Harry. What happened last night?" I say to the English boy, hoping that the conversation I had just started didn't devolve as quickly as it began.

"Uhm. What do you mean? Show in Edinburgh, then we chilled on the bus." he replies, a slightly confused look forming across his beautiful, sleepy face.

"You consider what we did as 'chilling?'" I say to him, an obvious look of concern accompanying my question. I'm completely astonished at how nonchalant Harry can be about the events of last night, considering the fact that his best friend, who he made cum in his hand last night, is still lying naked next to him under their shared blanket.

"Well... Just was having an odd night. I'm sorry." the boy with beautiful green eyes says to me with an audible shift in tone.

At this point, I didn't know who was more uncomfortable. This wasn't some far-fetched high school love story, this was my real life that Harry was playing with. How could anyone help but be confused by the entire situation.

"Ah. Suppose so." I respond, hoping that my gulp and feeling of disappointment hadn't made themselves too obvious.

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After our show in Glasgow, I insured my arrival on the other bus tonight, switching with Liam after an extended conversation with the boy. I hadn't told Liam the extent of the events of the previous night, just that I needed a break from constantly being around Harry. Thankfully Liam complied and I was able to spend the night playing FIFA and hanging out with Louis.

"Feeling well are you?" Louis began.

"Yeah, much better. Just hoping that I can finally get over whatever I had once and for all." I reply, hoping that Louis doesn't remark on the oddity of me having two illnesses so quickly back-to-back.

"Well that's good. On another note, why are you with me tonight? I never imagined you'd give up a moment of time you could be spending with Harry." Louis said.

"You're my best mate too Lou, you all are." I quickly replied back. My response didn't take long to think of because I truly believe it.

"Right, and I love you too Nialler, but it's quite obvious that you have always preferred Harry. You guys just fit. It's natural."

Louis' comment takes me back a bit. Of course I think me and Harry are 'meant' for eachother, but I figured I was the only person.

"Didn't mean anything by it. Was just wondering," Louis continued, "Mi bus es tu bus." he finished with a cheeky smile.

"All good mate." I say to Louis. I pick my phone up from the small shared sofa and walk towards the bunks that are behind the draw-back curtains at the end of the room. After i'm standing uncomfortably, alone, in my underwear in front of the small bunk, I peel back the thin blanket on top and slide my body under it.

The mattresses underneath are trash, but could easily be mistaken for those of a king after performing a show at night. I lay my head down on the dilapidated pillow and unlock my phone. Against what my stomach was telling me, I open my messages and send a couple quick sentences to Harry.

Me:

"I need to talk to you tomorrow. It's important."

Haz:

"I can talk now. Waddup?"

Me:

"I'd rather talk in person."

Haz:

"Sure."  

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