"Good morning, Harry!" Dougie exclaimed brightly and, admittedly, a little too loudly for Harry's liking.
"Urgh... Go away..." mumbled Harry sulkily, burying his head further into the pillow and covering it with the duvet. He knew what Dougie was doing and he didn't appreciate it at all.
"I think it's about time you got up, don't you?" Dougie's smug and giggling face appeared, peeking through the many layers of jumpers and blankets they both wore at this time of year. Asshole, Harry thought. He supposed it was his fault, really. Every day the same routine. God, he was making it sound dark now. All he meant was that every day he woke Dougie up exactly how it had just happened to him, except Harry never dragged Dougie out of bed as Dougie was attempting to now - he'd usually kiss him on the forehead and stroke his hair till he fell asleep again. Sometimes a bit longer. He loved his Dougie and when he slept his cuteness somehow tripled. Basically, Harry was nice about waking Dougie up and never felt the strange urge that his boyfriend did to kick him in the balls. Harry supposed it was kind of fair being dragged out of bed that day, though. It wasn't just any day.
"MERRY JUDDMAS!" Dougie screamed. And thus the day began.
"Awwwww come on!" Dougie shouted, trying and failing to drag his refusing boyfriend to the car. He wanted to play Spin the Bottle with the guys, but Harry wanted to stay in and play with his new drumsticks. "It'll be fun!"
"No." Harry sulked and was about to enter the house again when a hand reached up for his shoulder and spun him round.
"Look. How about this: We go round Danny's and play THREE GAMES of Spin the Bottle - no more, no less - and then we can come home and you can play me something nice on your drums? How does that sound?" Harry grinned. Finally he'd got his way.
"Fine, but on one condition." He was pushing his chances and he knew it. Doug rolled his eyes sarcastically.
"Bloody HELL Harry, what else do you want?!" Harry Judd turned a bright red that shone through the dark more than Rudolph's nose would in one night's time, and leaned forward.
"This, Doug. Just this. Nothing else."
Harry dipped Dougie and snogged him then and there.
Twenty three games of Spin the Bottle later, Dougie was thoroughly enjoying himself. Harry, not so much:
"OH SHIT! IT'S MATT!" Danny screamed drunkenly as the bottle, 'expertly' spun by Dougie, pointed at his fellow band member. Maybe a bit too eagerly, Matt ambled over and their lips clashed together. And stayed together. And stayed together a bit more. It was only when their lips both began to part that Harry's rage became visible, gaining a wolf-whistle from a mocking Flones who watched as Harry proceeded to rip Matt away from Dougie murmuring
"MY Doug, no one else's." and kiss the blond with such passion that Danny dropped his shot glass in shock, all whilst Mr Judd gave a confused Matt the finger. Dougie kissed back just as hard but, with time, their strong start faded away into little pecks on the lips, and eventually Harry snuggled contentedly into Dougie's arms, the sober couple laughing at Flones' drunk karaoke and Tom's bizarre insistence that if they wanted to beat the game they should use pickles as microphones (Danny ate his in two seconds). Matt wandered off somewhere, leaving Harry and his Doug alone as Flones passed out on the sofa, hand in hand. Earlier on, whilst drunk though, they had confessed their love for each other - secretly, both Dougie AND Harry thought that was more than just drunken, meaningless antics (On Harry's phone appeared a magical folder entitled 'Why our best friends are in love' filled with videos of Tom confessing his undying love and pictures of the pair cuddled together and holding hands in their sleep, Danny having replaced his own thumb with Tom's for sucking. The pair would never know it existed until much later on - but that's a whole other story entitled "The wedding day of Mr & Mr Fletcher".) - and were now having a conversation in their sleep about pineapples and cute guys (yet another reason for Flones - according to Dougie, EVERYONE has a bit of gay inside them - only people like he and Harry were fabulous enough to flaunt it though). Harry went a brilliant shade of magenta and was absolutely flattered when Tom admitted that he thought "Oh yeah and Harry's pretty fucking fit." and even more so when Danny responded "Yeah - to be honest he's just downright sexy!" Slowly, but surely, Harry's eyes began to close and the endless sweet nothings Doug was whispering into his ear merged into one comforting sound. His regular breathing, his arms tight around his lover's chest, one hand gently stroking Harry's arm, Dougie felt safe to Harry. Speaking as someone with Anxiety, that was a pretty big statement. But he did. For some inexplicable reason unbeknownst to Harry, Doug. Felt. Safe. And that meant he could be trusted with ANYTHING in the world. They'd help each other through anything and they both knew it. Hell, they'd even DIE for the other. Harry had thought he loved Dougie for a while, but he was never sure. On that day, that fateful day when Doug had walked in to find Harry in a ball in the corner sobbing his eyes out and shaking uncontrollably as though he had frostbite and the only thing he'd done was sit and rub his back and hug him as tight as he could and tell him it would be okay, he was sure. As cliché as it may sound, it was true. And whenever Harry was with Dougie, he felt whole. He felt complete. And, most of all, he felt completely and utterly, totally safe - something he never felt otherwise.
"Goodnight, my Harry. I love you more than I can put into words. I really do." Dougie kissed Harry on the forehead and fell into a peaceful slumber. Harry Judd drifted off, knowing he was safe, in the arms of his Doug.
