Needle and Thread

10

Harry isn't sure how he got here; here being the back porch of Alex's house, his left shoulder pressed firmly against Jj's right as they pass a bottle of raspberry vodka between them. Stars speckle the black canvas of the sky above, making for a pretty sight despite the raucous background noise, and Harry begins to mentally concoct something strangely like a poem before he takes another, cursed sip and his brain gets all muddled.

"Why did we stop being friends?" He finds himself asking, throat still burning from the vodka. Harry didn't mean to ask the question out loud, isn't sure where it even came from, but as his grandmother once said: drunken words are like promises - you can't take them back. It's one of her wiser sayings, but Harry still thinks she could stand to learn why the classics are untouchable, including proverbs.

Jj hardly bats an eye, though, taking the proffered bottle without so much as a flinch. "We just did," He shrugs, offering Harry a brief glance that's a little sad. "One day we were, and the next we weren't. I don't think there is a 'why'."

"Do you ever..." Harry trails off mid sentence, unsure if he's willing to commit to this particular drunken promise.

"Do I ever what?" Jj presses, sharper than Harry thinks he should be after the amount of alcohol they've shared between them.

"Nothing. I was just..." Harry pauses, waving a dismissive hand. One, hard look from Jj has him finishing his train of thought.

"Do you ever miss it? Do you ever miss us?"

There. He committed to the promise; to the cause of his drunken mind. Now what?

Jj doesn't say anything at first. He turns his gaze to the glittering sky and exhales shakily, his nerves of steel rattled by the sudden whiplash of Harry's questions. It's a fair reaction, one that's most certainly warranted, but it does nothing to ease Harry's own nerves. He sits by Jj's side with his lower lip tucked between his teeth, biting at the skin until he thinks he might be bleeding. All he can hear is the party raging inside and the discreet giggling of a couple sharing Alex's younger sister's swing set at the opposite end of the garden.

Jj doesn't say anything at first, but then he goes and ruins it all by saying too much.

"I don't- I don't really know what you want me to say to that, Harry."

Harry scoffs bitterly. The vodka has made his mouth taste sour. "A simple yes or no would be nice."

"I'm not nice," Jj says, all self sacrificial and martyr like. If Jj wasn't Jj, Harry is sure he'd find him insufferable for it. "I'm like, rude and blunt and incredibly pricky."

"That you are."

"Maybe that's why we stopped being friends. Maybe we're too different."

"Different?" Harry echoes into the night. It's a thought, but not one he necessarily agrees with. Sure, he and Jj have always been different, but that was the appeal of their friendship. Opposites are supposed to attract and complement one another, aren't they? Is it actually possible to be too different, to the point of incompatibility?

Jj certainly seems to think so. "Hm," He hums affirmatively. "You're not pricky. You're..."

"I'm..." Harry urges hypocritically. He knows there's a reason Jj won't continue, because it's probably the very reason why Harry refused to do the same.

"I should go home," Jj blurts all of a sudden, swiftly moving on from the topic of Harry's indescribable existence with a bluntness previously reserved for people Jj saw little potential in getting to know.

Has Harry become one of them?

"Oh," He replies, his voice rather small. "Okay."

The seconds following his reluctant acceptance of Jj's departure are quite easily contenders for the worst of Harry's life. Someone inside the house screeches like a pterodactyl, and the couple on the swing have started aggressively sucking one another's faces off, and Jj watches Harry with incredulity swimming in his eyes.

"See! This is exactly what I'm talking about!" Jj exclaims, loud enough to have Harry jumping out of his skin and the couple jerking apart like shards of exploding shrapnel. Predictably, the effects of Jj yelling are much longer lasting on Harry, the sounds of sloppy kisses and sordid whispers resuming only moments later.

Harry has curled in on himself like a dried up rose, suddenly rather self conscious.

"I don't- I don't get it."

"I literally just told you I was leaving while we were in the middle of having a conversation, and you didn't even try to stop me!" Jj explains, continuing his tirade, and with it, his mission to make Harry miserable. "Why can't you just be mean to me? It would make this all a whole lot easier."

Harry frowns, bewildered by it all. "Easier? Easier to what? Hate me?"

It's such a ridiculous thing to suggest, Harry hardly thinks his rhetorical question warrants an answer. Unfortunately, Jj doesn't agree, failing to see eye to eye no matter how easy a task Harry makes it.

"Yes! Exactly! Glad to see we're finally fucking getting somewhere."

The second the words leave Jj's mouth, Harry can tell he regrets them. His entire face drops, every emotion but contrition draining from his skin until all is drawn and pale.

"Oh, Harry, no," He stammers, reaching out in anguish. His frown deepens when the younger shuffles away, forming a notable rift between their bodies. "I-I didn't-"

"No, it's fine," Harry interrupts glumly. His heart genuinely feels like it's in agony, thrashing and screaming within the confines of his ribcage. It's the worst pain he has ever felt. "I get it. I'll just-"

"Yes."

"What?"

"My answer is yes. I miss it. Us. You." Jj pauses, taking a deep breath because he realises he can't take back his honesty. "Sometimes. Not always, but sometimes. And I don't hate you- I don't want to hate you. Not at all."

Jj has missed him. This knowledge doesn't offer Harry the satisfaction he thought it would. Instead, he feels sort of sad. Nowadays, Harry always feels sort of sad, but more so now than usual.

They sit aimlessly on the porch for a while, neither of them willing to address the elephant squashed uncomfortably between them. The couple on the swing set have disappeared, probably having made themselves scarce when Harry and Jj began arguing. They're alone, and Harry has never wanted anything more and less at the same time.

"Walk me home?" Jj suggests when the sound of the party grows catastrophically loud and the flashing blue and red of police lights flicker out front.

And who is Harry to deny Jj anything?