Take My Breath (KShaw)

Chapter 5

JJ isn't in the bathroom when Harry goes to take his shower; JJ isn't there when Harry gets back to the room, but his side is spotlessly clean. And Harry's grateful, even if he spends the next twenty minutes cleaning his own side of the room and getting their laundry. He's not sure what he'd say if JJ had been there. Not sure if this changes things or not, because he still hates JJ, he does. Maybe he hates JJ even more. Everything inside of him is in turmoil.

He can't sort out his thoughts or emotions. On one hand, he's shocked it happened. On the other hand, he thinks that maybe a tiny, little part of him seen it coming. Another part of him is pissed for even thinking that. And he feels angry with himself, angry with JJ, and he's regretting it already. He regrets it so much, because he can't get the way JJ had felt inside of him out of his mind; the way he'd gripped Harry's hips and tugged at his hair. While, at the same time, he doesn't regret it at all.

Eventually he leaves the room with his laptop and his books and his paper. He can't be in there anymore. Only he can't focus on his work. He gets to the library, sets himself up, and then he stares at the word document, fingers hovering over the keys, eyes glazed. He tries, though. Spends about an hour copying the words painstakingly slow, but he keeps misspelling things, skipping lines, missing words. There's so many words underlined in red that he gives up, shutting the laptop.

Ethan and Tobi aren't in the common room when he gets there, so he hikes his bag higher on his shoulder and heads for their room. Their room is only six down from Harry's, which is how he met them. The day after they'd moved in, the first time Harry had the room alone since JJ walked in the door, he was unpacking, and someone had knocked at the door. He went to answer it, and the next thing he knows there's this guy sitting on his bed, telling Harry his life story, while his friend stood in the doorway, looking both pleased and apologetic.

Apparently, or so Tobi told him later, Harry was the only one who allowed Ethan through the door, which is why he's now stuck with the two of them. Ethan pushed into Harry's life without invitation, and he brought Tobi along like a carry-on bag. Not that Harry minds. Befriending the two of them is probably the only exciting thing he's done since he got here. Well, it was. He's pretty sure having sex with JJ is now on that list.

When Harry gets to their room, he pushes the door open. They have a whiteboard on the door that Tobi obsessively uses to let people know if they're in the room, out of the room, or in the room and want to be alone. Right now it reads 'COME IN!' with a sloppy smiley face beside it. He finds the two of them stuffed on Ethan's bed, a box of pizza between them. Tobi's sitting with his legs neatly crossed, taking up as little room as possible. Ethan is spread out, limbs everywhere, lying on his stomach while he shoves a slice of pizza in his mouth. Which is such a good representation of both of their personalities, really.

"Hungry?" Tobi asks, nudging the box towards the edge of the bed. "Help yourself. My mom sent me extra cash this week." Harry nods mutely and takes a piece of pizza, picking off the slices of pepperoni before he takes a bite. It's not hot anymore, but it's greasy and cheesy and delicious anyway. He chews as he sinks onto Ethan's bed, pulling his legs up, before asking, "Can I stay here tonight?" "Are you going to spend the whole night bitching about whatever it is JJ did that makes you not want to stay in your own room?" Ethan inquires. Harry looks down at his food. "No." "Hey," Tobi says softly, "you okay? Did he do something?" "JJ always does something," Ethan reminds him.

Which is true, but this time it's as much Harry's fault as it is JJ's. "No," Harry finds himself saying. "He, uh, didn't do anything." "Why do you sound weird?" Ethan asks. "You look weird, too." Harry flushes. He stuffs the pizza into his mouth to avoid answering for a moment. It doesn't taste good anymore. It's like chewy cardboard. But he can't put it off forever, and his slice of pizza is gone too quickly. He runs a hand through his hair, eyes downcast, and whispers, "I had sex with JJ." "What was that? Couldn't hear you," Ethan says. "I had sex," Harry repeats, "with JJ."

When he looks up, Tobi's frozen, pizza half to his mouth. Ethan is gaping at him like he has two heads, and it's so fucking quiet. And he knows, if the roles were reversed, that he'd be gaping at himself, too. "Holy shit," Ethan breathes. "Holy fucking shit." He turns to Tobi. "You owe me fifty bucks." "You were betting on this happening?" Harry demands. "Really?" Ethan shakes his head. "Don't try to turn this around. I want details. Like, explicit details." "I just want to forget it happened," Harry mutters. "Ooh, it was bad, huh?" Ethan says. "I knew it. All those muscles are compensating for a little dick, right? Called it." Harry throws his crust in Ethan's direction. It hits his arm and Ethan doesn't even blink, or move to throw it out, so Tobi leans over him and tosses it in the pizza box with three other uneaten crusts. "You can stay," he adds. "You can have my bed. I'll sleep in Ethan's." "Yeah," Ethan agrees. "No problem. You know you're always welcome here." Harry nods. "Thanks." "Now, just give me a vague outline. Like, hold your hands apart. How big was it?"

******

The week starts with him and JJ tiptoeing around each other. Harry stays at Ethan and Tobi's Saturday night, but he can't avoid his room forever. When he gets back, JJ isn't there, and he breathes out a sigh of relief before changing, putting in his headphones, and working on his paper. By the time JJ gets back, he's finished it. JJ, for his part, treats Harry like he's another piece of furniture. They don't look at each other; they don't speak; they don't even argue. JJ works out at the gym, Harry doesn't play his music in the room once. On Tuesday when JJ has one of his teammates in the room, showing him something on his laptop, Harry walks right back out instead of plunking himself down on his own bed just to irritate JJ. On Thursday when JJ leaves his sweaty clothes around the room after practise, Harry bites his tongue instead of yelling at him.

It isn't until Friday that things go back to normal. It happens fairly easily, too. Harry's doing his homework, JJ's throwing a ball up into the air while lying flat on his bed, and JJ randomly says, "I still don't like you. And you hit your keys too hard." Harry pauses, turning to him. "I still don't like you, either." "Good." JJ throws the ball, it nearly hits the ceiling, and then he gracefully, swiftly catches it as it falls back down. "I don't want you to think that just because we, like, whatever, that I suddenly can stand you or something. Because I can't." "Like having sex with you would change the fact that you're an asshole," Harry spits. JJ gets off the bed, dropping the ball to the floor. It rolls under Harry's bed. "Go to hell, Harry," he mutters, heading for the door. He slams it behind himself on his way out.

When he's gone, Harry can suddenly breathe again. It's like he was holding his breath all week, hoping that what happened hadn't changed things. Because it didn't, not for him. JJ still makes his blood boil. He still wants to punch the guy. But he'd feel... guilty, maybe? If things changed for JJ. But they hadn't, he's still a dick, and Harry likes it better this way. It's like being on even ground again. It's easier when they hate each other because he knows what to expect. This whole week has been the opposite. Harry grins to himself as he gets back to work.