One Direction One Shots 2

Waking the Neighbors (Harry)

 Though we denied it adamantly to our friends, Harry and I were drunk. Harry laughed, insisting he was fine in a kind of eye-rolling, ‘don’t-be-stupid-of-course-I’m-drunk,’ kind of way. I, however, was thoroughly offended at the implication that mere beer could get me anything more than buzzed.

The night around us was warm and the bar we were in was even warmer. We all sat, grouped in a booth in an intentionally tacky bar called the ‘Twisted Lizard,’ that played gritty samba music over a jukebox all night. The boys downed shots of Cuervo in between pints. I downed shots of Jim Beam, deciding in a sort of drunken logic that it would be easier on me than tequila.

Harry and I spent some time dancing near the booth to the music – the sound of strings and drums pressing to our ears in the heat. He gripped my hips and I swayed against him, feeling the warmth in my joints from the alcohol and from Harry’s touch. His long fingers slid mindlessly up and down between my hip bones and the tops of my thighs as we danced. In certain moments, I brushed my fingertips over the tops of his hands, feeling the bones shifting in them. His hands were gorgeous, which always struck me as an odd thing to notice, but it was hard not to. I once heard a line in a movie in which a man, attempting to seduce a woman, told her that she had ‘lovely, long fingers – like a thoroughbred.’ That line always came to mind when Harry put his hands on me. Lovely, long fingers attached to beautiful hands with wide palms. He could lay one across me and cover a wide expanse of the skin of my stomach – the heat always pressing down into the muscle.

We swayed against one another and talked in low voices. We threw our heads back and laughed loudly to one another. Even separated into different conversations at the table, Harry’s eyes would slide over to me, and his wide, bright grin would light up across his face before his attention returned to whomever he was talking to. Every time, lightning would flash through my blood and I would burn with gratitude that his smile had been aimed at me.

At the end of the night, I wound my arm around Harry’s neck and his arm around my waist. We assured our friends that we were fine – fine. Absolutely. And we slithered out into the street to hail a cab. Once we flagged one down, we moved into the backseat and sat side-by-side, properly. Harry’s hand twisted into mine – his fingers pressing between mine - and, occasionally, we looked at one another and giggled – for no real reason. Giddy, I suppose, on the prospect of the night ahead of us.

We made it to my apartment and crawled, light-headed, up the stairs. Halfway up, Harry tripped up one of the stairs and I fell to my butt at the top of the landing, falling back, laughing loudly. Harry crept towards me, grinning. “Ss-ssh,” he half-hissed, half-laughed, pressing a finger to his lips. “Ss-ssh,” I laughed, twisting around as I stood, continuing my assent up the stairs.

We finally made it to my door and I managed to get the key in the door but, apparently, became bored with what I was doing and turned to Harry. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pushed my lips against his neck, just below his ear. I pressed small, hot kisses against his skin. I pressed myself the length of his torso and we flew back, bumping into the wall opposite my door. Harry laughed and pushed against me. We landed near my door, next to the fire extinguisher - shaking the wall and making the metallic of the extinguisher clang against its case softly. Harry repeated his earlier reprimand, “Ss-ssh,” and, with one hand wrapped around my waist, twisted the key in the lock. He slid his hand to the doorknob and twisted it, pushing the door open with his forearm.

We stumbled into the room – Harry supporting my weight as I stumbled backwards. He kicked at the door with his foot and it swung closed, mostly – the lock clicking against the doorjamb and the door bouncing open again, just a half an inch. The light from the hallway – just one sharp pane of it – blared into the room, creating one line of light against the bathroom door. The rest of the apartment was dark.