Beach (I Wanna Make You Mine)

Harry couldn't be any happier than he is in this moment that he can finally sleep. He's only been teaching for two years, but Jesus, this week had to have been the longest one he's experienced so far, and he has no more energy to deal with 30 little brats.

Okay, they're not all brats, and he loves them all, but if Jason throws one more spit wad at Megan, Harry's going to lose his shit.

He takes his sweet time getting ready for bed, because he knows he's about to get the best sleep of his life. He brushes and flosses his teeth after his leisurely shower, does a 10-minute face mask, exfoliates, moisturizes, strips down to his boxers, and climbs straight into bed under the comfiest comforter he owns.

Just as he starts to feel himself drift off-

CRASH.

Harry jolts up and glares at the doors to his balcony. "Are you fucking kidding me," he grumbles to himself as he listens to the sounds of obnoxious laughter coming from whoever's making the ruckus outside on the ground below.

He begrudgingly forces himself out of bed as the laughter continues, opening the doors, and walking out onto his balcony, placing his hands on the railing and looking down at the blokes about 20 feet beneath him.

Be polite. Be polite. Be pol- "Hey, can you blokes kindly shut the fuck up?" Harry calls out to the two guys. He's not so much with the kindness today.

"Hey-ey-ey!" one of the brunettes with a higher voice than he expected yells excitedly up at Harry, and he can see the beer bottle and smell the weed from where he stands on his balcony.

"I'm trying to sleep, here, can you please go bother someone else?" Harry asks, his politeness still not shining through.

"Last time I checked, these were public streets!" a strong Irish accent bellows from the other brunette, and the way he's slurring isn't helping Harry understand what he's saying.

"Alright, well, you're standing under my balcony, so could you at least go to the end of the street and yell?" Harry calls back, motioning to his left.

"Sure thing, Daddy!" the smaller one calls, and Harry swallows at the name as the Irish one cackles, and he awkwardly retreats back into his apartment as they begin to walk farther down the street.

~

It's about a week later on a Friday when Harry hears a familiar sound outside of his bedroom.

Harry likes to think that he's a good person, so he just yells "You idiots again? Can you please respect the fact that I have to actually wake up tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow's Saturday!" the boy with the brunette fringe slurs.

"I have to go to a wedding!" Harry lies, truly just wanting his damn beauty rest.

"Alright, alright, don't get your kickers in a twist! We'll leave!"

"Thank you! Please don't come back!" Harry yells out to them.

"See you next Friday, Curly!"

~

The next Friday, Harry's had a terrible day. His boss yelled at him because Jason's parents complained that he was sent to detention for continuing to throw spit wads at Megan once again, after Harry had told him to stop multiple times. Just because Jason's parents donate to the school, does not mean that he should give him special privileges. That isn't right.

He's just about to get into bed, when- "Are you guys actually kidding me?" Harry yells from his balcony with only a towel around his waist and wet hair clinging to his forehead.