Fingernails (Mrog/Matty x George)

Seven: Relationships and Gays

It had been three weeks since Harry had confessed his feelings to Nick, and he hadn't texted him yet. Nick was beginning to worry that Harry hadn't realised what he'd meant by "me too" - he supposed it had been a little cryptic, but he had been certain at the time that Harry would spend enough time over-analysing the situation to figure it out.

Although, if the silence on Harry's end was anything to go by, he hadn't worked it out; that or he simply didn't believe Nick.

Sighing, Nick fell onto his back from where he had been sitting cross-legged on his large bed. He placed his hands on his stomach, feeling them rise and fall as he breathed deeply.

Nick flopped his left arm to his side, and felt around for his phone. Picking it up and grasping it in both hands, holding it up above himself, he unlocked his phone, finding Harry's contact. As he typed out a message, the phone slipped out of his grip, falling on his throat.

"Fuck!" He gasped out in shock, not expecting it. "Jesus Christ," Nick muttered, picking it up to see that the contact with his skin had caused the phone to send Harry a half completed text with a few words of utter gibberish at the end.

Hey, hope you're okay, just wanted to drink flannel spies

Chuckling under his breath, Nick tapped out a second message, hoping Harry would receive the second before replying to the first.

Sorry about that i dropped my phone. Just wanted to see how you're doing since i havent seen you for a while now we're on study leave.

Locking his phone, Nick lifted his hips and slid it into his back pocket before rolling off his bed to watch a film on the sofa downstairs, since it was a Thursday, so his parents were at work.

Study leave - what a fucking joke.

Nick was fifteen minutes into Scott Pilgrim when his doorbell rang. He was half tempted to leave it since he wasn't expecting anyone - probably just Christians wanted to talk about the Bible - but after a moment, Nick dragged himself off the plush sofa to look through the peephole.

Harry?

Nick swung the door open, smirking bemusedly at the sight of the boy on his doorstep.

"Hey, mate. Wasn't expecting you, was I?"

"Nah," Harry replied, shuffling awkwardly. "Figured I'd come over since it's been, what, two weeks since I saw you? Three? Fuck knows, I lost track of time when study leave started."

Harry smiled sheepishly, stepping forwards into the house when Nick slide to the side, allowing him access.

"I'm fine, by the way. Doing alright." Nick frowned, cocking his head to the side.

"What?"

"The text. You asked how I was doing." Nick nodded in understanding, traipsing over to the kitchen to flick on the already half-full kettle. When he got back into the living room with two mugs - one green tea for Harry, one black coffee for himself - Harry was sitting with his legs crossed on the sofa, practically curled up against the arm of the seat.

"Cheers." Harry made grabby hands at the mug of green tea, Nick slipping it between his palms in response.

"Will you be my boyfriend?"

Harry swallowed an accidentally large gulp of the boiling liquid, trying to avoid choking at Nick's outburst.

"I- what?"

"You heard." Nick paused, taking a small sip of his coffee. "I would have asked earlier, but I needed to think for a few days after you told me, and, well - we haven't been at school together, so I haven't had the chance."