oneshots • sidemen

|| 16 || kshaw • mine

|| ship; kshaw

|| warnings; none

|| words; 2k

- {} -

JJ

I think the best, and worst part of dating Harry, is how damn attractive he is.

I mean, it'd be fine if only I was able to look at him in that way; to admire him. But others like to do it too. It might be selfish of me to want that all to myself, especially since I understand better than anyone why they want to look at him.

But that doesn't stop it being annoying. We could be walking down the street together, and people - both men and women - will turn back to look at Harry over their shoulders once we passed by. And what's worse, is he's completely oblivious to it.

Well, perhaps oblivious is the wrong word.

He knows it's happening, but doesn't know how to deal with it. So just pretends it isn't happening. Which is almost as bad. He's too polite for his own good sometimes, letting people come onto him because he doesn't know how to shoot them down. Even when I'm right there too.

Waitresses will try to chat him up when we go out for meals, until I make a point of mentioning that Harry and I are in fact, on a date. And if they don't get the hint then, well, Harry's bound to end up breathless, and with bright red lips by the time we leave the coffee shop, or restaurant, or wherever we were.

People tend to get the message after seeing that.

I don't think Harry quite understands how much it irritates me, when people come onto him. Or, he does, but he doesn't think it's necessary for me to get so wound up. I suppose he has a point there. I know he's not going to leave me for them. Of course I l know that. I trust him with my life.

But I want him, and everyone around us to understand too. That he's mine.

Mine.

We haven't told the people around us yet. Simon knows, both of the Cals, too. Our families, of course. But nobody else.

Which means that when we're on a night out with the boys, bar hopping, or going into clubs, I can't help Harry if he gets stuck in

Like now, for example.

I'm sat, watching a blonde girl stare at Harry from across the room. She's been eyeing him up for a while now, watching him slowly get more, and more wasted, as she waits for her time to strike.

And apparently, that's now.

She quickly throws back a shot, and then wanders over to where Harry is, alone, nursing a glass of alcohol, one of his usual mixers that he drinks in excess to get himself smashed beyond belief. Watch as this girl tugs her skirt up a little further on the way over, probably in the hopes of making herself look more desirable.

When she arrives, and starts talking to Harry, he doesn't seem all that bothered. Even though she's standing far too close for it to be perceived as anything less than sexual, and keeps twirling her hair around her fingers in a flirty way.

Harry doesn't object when she lays a hand on his chest, just laughing along with her.

Maybe I should rethink the oblivious thing. Because when he's hammered, he's definitely oblivious to advances.

It makes my blood boil, watching her practically drape herself across him, pressing her body right up against his.

I need to get him out of there. For his sake, and for mine.