Dream Writer » Larry AU

35: CHARM

I'd changed into his sweats when I climbed into the bed and placed a kiss on his mouth.

"Let's cook dinner," was my suggestion.

It was Harry's idea to bring our food into the bed once it was served on the counter. Since I would've been stupid to decline, we followed his wishes and carried a tray each to keep the plates and glasses on.

Once we'd eaten, Jackson came to my mind again.

"Still can't believe you sucker punched him," was what I said, and had already said about five times in the past two hours. "If I'd been less of a pussy, I totally would've done that a decade ago. Every day, if I could've. His reaction was priceless," I snickered.

Harry was removing the trays from the bed and placing them down on the floor to thereafter allow himself to crawl closer to me in the sheets. We'd removed our sweatpants about ten minutes prior, which was why I felt quite tingly he brought his thighs up to overlap mine with his feet curling behind my back.

"Not to be that dick," he began and hooked his arms around my neck, "but he was a bit of a fraidy-cat." The expression made me giggle. "I'm not saying I don't get how he could've traumatised you, because he must've been horrible, and I understand that," he explained. "But I swear he pissed himself when I threatened to snap his neck."

I laughed melodically. "He was terrified."

"And thick-headed."

A snort came, and my toothy smile erupted. "Yeah, he wasn't the brightest student if I remember correctly."

Harry smile lingered for a bit, but once another thought popped up, it faded. "Did he ever call you a faggot before today?"

"Nah," I declined, shaking my head. "Don't think that word was registered in his vocabulary in high school."

At that, Harry laughed. "Wow. He's that thick?"

"Surely," I answered. "But considering he was so quick to notice that you and I are together, I guess he's got some brains in his head at least."

"Or else he was just jealous," Harry noted, pointing a finger at my chest.

"Of me? Yeah, probably-"

"No, of me," he emphasised and I blinked a couple times. "What if he had a crush on you? All throughout high school? It's a common defence mechanism to be arsehole to the person you're attracted to. Especially if he's closeted and ashamed."

It was clever, but I disagreed. "No. That can't be possible. If he was teasing me, sure. But this guy hurt me to the point where I was hospitalised, remember? If he'd liked me I would've known that, for sure."

"Are you sure?" Harry raised his eyebrows, and then he playfully nudged my fist into my collarbone. "You're the prettiest bloke on the planet, Tommo."

My cheeks burned. "Tommo wasn't close to being pretty in high school, babe. If you'd see a picture of me back then, you'd certainly agree."

"Shut up," he monotoned. "Unless you've gone through a million dollars worth plastic surgery-which I highly doubt-there isn't a way you could possibly have gone from not pretty to the prettiest."

I gave him a look and he laughed. "Well, I beg to differ. I had the haircut of a lesbian mom," was the first thing I said, which had him bursting into laughter. "It's true. And I hated it. And so did everyone else, since nobody wanted to hang out with me." Harry's smile slowly washed out and was replaced by a sad frown. "And I wore glasses, as well. Ridiculous ones."

Harry suddenly perked up. "Oh my-" He cupped his mouth with one hand. "Like actual glasses?"

"No, a monocle," I sassed, snorting. "Yes. Actual glasses, which Jackson always made fun of. He'd make blind-jokes, even though I'm not actually blind. That's kind of why I stopped wearing them."