know what, @bigbrotherlouis? He finds it in a fic when he’s three glasses
into the bottle of wine and Aimee’s on her way over and he’s going to have to
come clean to her about how he might be a bit in love with Harry.
He’d wanted to be the one
person immune to Harry, and so he’d willed it to be true. Even once he realized
that he wanted it to be true because his immunity was part
of his allure. The fallacy that Nick wasn’t going to fall in love with Harry
was what let Harry get close to him in the first place, let him tuck his bony
feet up on Nick’s couch and sleep on the other half of his bed and kiss him sleepily
and meaninglessly when Nick left for the studio before dawn.
For just once in his life, Harry
wanted a best friend who wouldn’t fall in love with him. And Nick hates that he
couldn’t give that to Harry. He’s let Harry down, unforgivably.
He doesn’t deserve Aimee’s
pity. So he’s preparing to make the whole thing into a comedic tale of cosmic
injustice, starring Harry as the equivalent of the cat that made Nick tip over
his car. “Rock-hard abs and eyes you could drown in” sounds just right, just a
little bit over the top.
He plots out the monologue
in his head. “It was inevitable, I suppose,” he’ll say, with a self-deprecating
eye roll. “Rock-hard abs and eyes you could drown in.”
It’s a bit of a lie, anyway.
Not that Harry’s abs aren’t a wonder, they are. But it’s the softer bits around
his hips that Nick can’t forget touching.
i truly will Sob My Eyes Out when it ends and then drink the entire bottle of cider in the back of my fridge and then nap and cry and use the energy of my Power nap to be petty toward the ones who scoffed at me and my larrie belief thank u