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"I've been really tryin', baby
Tryin' to hold back this feeling for so long
And if you feel like I feel, baby
Then, c'mon, oh, c'mon

Let's get it on"


As much as I don't want to admit it to myself, waking up next to Harry felt like waking up to Christmas day, that giddy feeling in your stomach over what the day will bring, and to be fair, opening your eyes to see him sleeping peacefully, his wild hair strewn over the pillow and his contrasting sharp cherub face, is a present all in itself.

I thought it would be awkward, when he woke up, the memories from the previous night flooding my mind. However it was the complete opposite.

If anything it was like we were closer with each other, both of just laying in bed cackling to ourselves at some of the memories of what I had said, Harry saying he's going to refer to me as only Danny Devito from now on, to which I pointed out his dick was now permanently named Big Foot.

It seems absurd, that things can be so comfortable between us, and I can't explain it, it's just how it is.

By the time we dragged ourselves out of bed it was 11am, and I found myself looking at Harry differently, when I watched him pull himself out of bed and stand to stretch, I couldn't take my eyes away.

Seeing how the muscles in his arms flex as he throws them in the air with his fists clenched, arching his back and his stomach flexing as he bellows out a loud strangled yawn looks so tempting.

The same feeling I get when I see a perfect plump ass in a tight pair of yoga pants when some full hips, is the same feeling I'm having watching the indents of his hips travel into his briefs, and my cheeks heat when I see the albeit, less ominous, relaxed bulge in them.

The way my eyes see him now is like a colourblind person putting on those magical glasses that let you see proper colours for the first time, I don't just see adorable and goofy, I see sensual and attractive.

It's literally like the song 'Let's get in on' by Marvin Gaye plays in my head when I look at him now.

It's freaking the fuck out of me.

Harry notices my staring, flopping his hands down by his sides as he tilts his head at me "Something on your mind? You looked like you were daydreaming"

I shake my head quickly, darting my eyes away from him and stare at the ceiling, still laid on my back with the covers kicked around my feet.

I shake my head quickly, darting my eyes away from him and stare at the ceiling, still laid on my back with the covers kicked around my feet

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I'm back to ogling him like a virgin in a brothel, just like in my dream, and it's making me feel queasy.

"And you said I was the shit liar" he scoffs.

I don't say anything, just keep staring holes into the ceiling as I try and figure out what the fuck is wrong with me, I'm so confused, my brain is hammering a hundred mile an hour.

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