mcfly-slash ... When you say nothing at all
i am just so pathetic, really.
here i was with my big mouth, going all, "this is the last thing from me in a while." only to be here today, giving you yet another story i came up with. talk about contradicting myself, right?
anyway, have it.
Title: When you say nothing at all
Author: me
Rating: PG-13
Chapter: 1/1 … Standalone
Genre: Comedy/Romance
Pairing: PoynterJudd
Summary: Harry has tour-flu, the poor thing.
Disclaimer: As far as I’m concerned, this isn’t true. But what do I know anyway?
Dedication: for my poor ickle Cazzabum as a cheering up.
Author’s note: Actually, this story is all you guys’ fault. Everyone who commented on ‘No Regrets’, saying they were speechless … all of you are to blame. Cos to that I occasionally responded with ‘You say it best when you say nothing at all’ and being the sad individual that I am, this immediately brought the idea for this fic to my head.
Title, of course, the great song by Ronan Keating. But I didn't want to make a songfic, would've been too fluffy.
Also, I like this a lot more than the Pones I wrote the other day. I'm just a Pudd-girl, sue me.
It was a regular Wednesday. Some time between noon and afternoon in one of those months that wasn’t really anything. Not actual summer anymore but not proper fall yet.
Dougie was just shuffling through his suitcases, sorting his laundry. An activity he had been doing for the second day now. An all too normal after-tour-activity, doing the washing so he would have something, anything, to wear.
However, he was brought out of his domestic activity when the phone rang. He jumped up from inbetween the several piles of clothing and rushed to the front room, his eyes scanning the area, his ears picking up, trying to find out where exactly the ringing was located. It turned out to be somewhere beneath the heap of letters on the coffee table.
“Hello?” he answered.
Nothing.
Dougie held the phone away from his ear to check the caller ID, only to be reminded of the fact that the display of his cordless phone didn’t work properly anymore. He could see some faint lines that surely were part of a number, a name, but he couldn’t put them all together.
He shrugged, bringing the phone back to his ear. Maybe the other person had been distracted and didn’t even hear him answer in the first place.
“Hello?” he tried again.
This time there was an answer. But instead of a voice and an inevitable knowledge of who it was on the other end, Dougie heard a cough. A bad cough. A cough that sounded like some parts of a human lung were going to shoot right through the line and land by his feet in a few seconds time.
Still, he now knew who was calling.
“Harry?”
Again, no answer. Just really weird breathing-noises, followed right by another of those lung-destroying coughs and a sneeze to round it all up.
“You know what, this is getting stupid. I’m coming over.”
And only minutes later Dougie was down the road, ringing Harry’s doorbell.
It took a few minutes until the door opened, revealing Harry. At least Dougie thought it was Harry. The face looked like a miserable version of Harry’s and Dougie couldn’t see much else. A duvet was wrapped around the figure in front of him, making them look like a mummy. The head that poked out was hidden in the huge hood of what seemed to be an even huger jumper and a scarf was wrapped around the figure’s neck, covering their chin and parts of their mouth.
“Nice outfit, Judd.” Dougie commented and let himself inside while the figure shuffled back to where they came from.
Dougie followed and found himself in the living room. The figure was laying on the couch with another duvet covering them. For whatever reason. The heating seemed to be on full blast, it was warm enough already. The floor in front of the couch was littered with used tissues and wrappers of cough drops and on the coffee table was placed an empty tea mug and a few more packets of tissues. The TV was on, showing some cricket-match.
Harry, most definitely. Dougie thought.
“Caught Tom’s tour-flu, huh?” Dougie questioned as he plonked himself down onto the armchair.
Harry opened his mouth, trying to answer but nothing would come out. Instead his body was shook with another cough that sounded worse than those Dougie had heard over the phoneline. When Harry had calmed himself down from that, he just looked up with puffy eyes and nodded his head.
“Damn, must’ve got you bad. Tom never loses his voice completely. Would be a nice change, come to think of it. No more snapping. Oh, what bliss would that be?” He sighed dreamily.
Harry only shot Dougie a look.
Dougie raised his hands in mock defeat. “I know, I know. I’m not helping.” He scanned the room. “These the only packets you have left?” He gestured to the three lonely tissue-packets on the coffee table.
Harry shrugged, his eyes wandering towards the staircase.
“In the bathroom? Alright, I’ll check if there are some more. But first” He got up and took the tea mug. “I’m gonna make you another tea, alright?”
Harry nodded.
“You got any clean clothes?”
Harry’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline.
“Dude, I’m gonna stay here until you feel better. It’d be quite useless if you raise the phonebill even though you only cough into the phone, wouldn’t it? But I have no clean clothes. So I either wear some of yours or go get my washing over here.”
Harry gave him an apologetic smile.
“Alright, I’ll get my washing over and do our laundry. But one thing after the other, yes? I’ll make you a tea first and then I’ll go see what we’ll need and then you show me where your wallet is so I can do some shopping.”
This time, a gasp left Harry’s lips, bringing another cough up.
“Hey, take it as my payment for being your bloody nurse.” Dougie grinned which earned him a look from his friend. “You know you love me for being a cheap bugger.”
Dougie got up and made Harry another tea. He also remembered the thermos Harry had in one of the kitchen cupboards and filled that with hot tea as well before returning back to the living room where Harry was gesturing wildly at the TV with the remote.
“I know. They are bloody fuckers who could use some more training sessions and that even your granny could beat them. But waving the remote about won’t make them win either.” Dougie placed the mug and thermos on the coffee table. “Right, have you got pen and paper anywhere? I need to make a list before heading to Tesco’s so I won’t forget anything.”
Harry looked around the room, trying to remember where he had put a writing pad. Suddenly his eyes lit up. He sought his brain for anything that would make Dougie understand. In the end he settled for one movement Dougie definitely would understand. His hand that was firmly tucked under the duvet made an up-and-down-movement right over his crotch.
Dougie laughed out loud. “Bedroom? Bedside cabinet?”
Harry nodded.
“Okay, be right back. Gonna check the bathroom for more tissues while I’m up there too.”
Dougie left the room and moments later, Harry could hear him rummage about upstairs, going from one room to the other. A few minutes later, Dougie came back down, scribbling something onto the paper. Without a word, he went to the kitchen and Harry heard him opening cupboards and the fridge.
Finally, he returned back to the living room, handing Harry the writing pad and the pen.
“If you wanna add something, feel free to do it.” He then went to grab for Harry’s phone.
Harry, who just started scanning the list, gave him a questioning look but Dougie apparently already had someone on the other end.
“Tom? … Yeah, I’m at Harry’s. He’s well ill, dude, completely lost his voice … Yep, this would be your fault, you and your bloody virus’ fault anyway … Whatever, you know I’m right. Listen, can you just do the round-call, like telling everyone to not call Harry? … Yeah seriously, he can’t speak at all. If anyone wants something from him, tell them to call me, alright? … Cos I’ll be staying at his place, he’s completely useless at the moment … Well, everyone who could get the idea of calling him … Nah, I’ll call ‘em. You just do the rest, okay? … Alright thanks … Yeah, I’ll tell him … Alright, bye.” Dougie ended the call. “Tom says he’s sorry you got his bug.”
Harry just rolled his eyes.
“I know it’s bloody unfair that he’s all well. But see it like this. At least you can lay here at home. He had to play shows. And you can still kick his arse from bollocks to sundown when you’re better.”
At this a smile appeared on Harry’s face.
“I knew you were going to like this. Hey, where’s your mobile?”
Again, Harry’s eyebrows shot up.
“I need to call your mum but I don’t know the number.”
Harry nodded, understanding, before reaching his hand underneath his duvet and retrieving his phone.
“Bet you had it on vibrate down there.” Dougie joked while looking up the number. When he found it, he picked up Harry’s house phone again, typing in the numbers. “Hi Emma, it’s Dougie … Fine, you? … Yeah, tour finished off great … Uh-huh, I’m at Harry’s. That’s the reason why I’m calling actually … No, nothing to worry about, he’s just ill … Just a really bad flu, nothing too bad. He’s completely lost his voice though … No, it’s okay, I’m gonna stay here and take care of him. I just wanted to let you know … No, he really can’t say anything at all. All you get out of him is coughs and sneezes … That would be great, yeah … Okay … Yes, I’ll make sure to keep you updated … Yes, he’s going to call you first thing when he has his voice back, I promise … And I will do that as well. Just not now. I don’t quite feel like getting his bug … Alright, I’ll tell him … Oh really? Wait, I need to write that down.” Dougie snatched the pen from Harry and scribbled something on his hand before handing the pen back to Harry. “Yeah, wrote it down … Okay Emma, thanks. I’ll talk to you later … Bye.”
Dougie ended the call and tossed the phone back onto the coffee table before eyeing Harry who still read through the shopping list.
“Your mum says get well soon and that she loves you. Feel hugged by her. I’d do it but I rather you keep the bugs to yourself.” He paused. “Can think of something else I need to get?”
Harry shook his head. He turned the list around so Dougie looked at his own handwriting. Harry pointed at something written on it, looking at him questioning.
“How are condoms supposed to make you feel better? Not at all. But you don’t have any left. I figured once you are alright again, you might need some. You know, might as well get ‘em now before you have someone over and you won’t get any because you ran out of condoms.”
Harry only smiled.
“Very thoughtful of me, I know. Now where’s your wallet? And the keys to your car, come to think of it.”
At that, Harry’s eyes almost popped out of his skull.
Dougie giggled. “Hey, I passed my driving test, in case you forgot. But okay, if you insist … I’ll take my own car. Has a bigger boot anyway. I still need your wallet and the keys for the front door though.”
Harry pulled his hand back out from under the duvet and gestured to the hallway, before pointing to his back.
“In your rucksack?” Dougie guessed.
Harry nodded.
“Okay. I’ll be back soon, alright?”
Dougie got up and made to leave the room. Before he reached the doorway he turned back around though. He went back to Harry and took the remote away from him, searching the channels until he found some film. Checking when it would end and looking at his watch, he nodded before stuffing the remote in the pocket of his jeans. He was just about to leave when a tap on the coffee table made him turn around.
Harry looked at him, gesturing to the pocket where his remote poked out.
“I’m not having you watch sports. It’ll only make you want to scream at the TV and do yet more damage to your vocal chords.”
Harry’s eyes darkened.
“You don’t really hate me and you know it too. I’ll hurry up.”
And then Dougie left, leaving Harry laying on the couch, wrapped in his duvets, watching some film he wasn’t even remotely interested in.
===
About an hour later, Dougie was back. And with him probably half of Tesco’s. Four times Dougie walked through the living room, arms full of bags he brought into the kitchen. Then followed three more times when Dougie passed him, now his arms filled with clothing he brought to Harry’s laundry room.
When Dougie was done, he plonked back onto the armchair he had occupied earlier, resting for a moment. He also pulled out the remote he still had in his pocket and tossed it back to Harry who eagerly switched channels only to find out that the match of cricket he had watched before Dougie left, was now over. His face fell.
“They lost.” Dougie informed him, “Heard it on the radio.” He stood back up. “Right, better put all the stuff away. You feel like eating, or are you gonna be sick when you do?”
Harry shook his head, now noticing how hungry he actually was.
“Okay, I’ll make us some food then. And don’t worry … I bought ready meals and pot noodles. Not even I can mess those up.”
For the next few minutes all Harry saw of Dougie was him rushing through the rooms, storing things away and bringing items upstairs. Then, Dougie disappeared downstairs, obviously attending the laundry now. Before that he had tossed Harry one of the empty plastic bags that had held the shopping, telling him to at least pick up all the tissues and cough drop wrappers from the floor and toss them into the bag.
When Dougie appeared back in the living room, Harry handed him the bag. He felt quite proud of himself for collecting the rubbish since almost every movement wore him out at the moment.
Dougie warmly smiled at him. “Good boy.” he said, taking the bag away from him. “Now, what you want for dinner?”
Harry shrugged, gesturing to the kitchen.
Dougie understood. “Oh, I bought a little bit of everything. But I reckon I’ll make you some pot noodles. You know, just in case your stomach feels rebellious without you knowing.” He paused, smiling at Harry before a thought struck him. “Oh, I brought you something, totally forgot.”
Dougie rushed out of the room and re-appeared a few moments later, in his hand a little box, wrapped in colourful wrapping paper with clowns on it.
“Open it.” he urged Harry on.
Harry propped himself up into a more sitting position before unwrapping the paper. A silent laugh left his lips when he was done, only to be replaced with another shattering cough. When he had composed himself, he held Dougie’s present up. A bright red horn, one of those you can attach to a child’s bike instead of the usual bell. He looked at it from all angles, not quite sure why Dougie had bought it for him.
“In case you need anything and I’m not in the room. You squeeze that little bit at the bottom …”
Harry did and a loud squeaking noise filled the room, making him wince in surprise.
“See? You squeeze that and I’ll come to your rescue. And don’t hesitate to use it, okay? Not even at night. Squeeze it until I’m there.”
Harry shook his head, looking alarmed.
“Yes Harry, you bloody well will do it. Don’t worry about me. I’ll get my payback when you feel better.” Dougie grinned.
Harry still didn’t look too convinced though. He felt like taking advantage to Dougie too much.
“Don’t be stupid, Harry. You’d do the same for me.”
Dougie disappeared back into the kitchen and only a few minutes later he came back, handing Harry a steaming plastic cup with a fork poking out, his dinner. For himself, Dougie had heated up a ready meal in the microwave. They both ate, watching whatever there was on the TV.
While Harry ate, his eyes kept occasionally wandering over to Dougie, taking in the other guy sitting in the armchair, happily eating away while watching TV. Harry couldn’t fail to notice how different Dougie looked now. It was not just the short hair he had now or the proper trousers he was wearing instead of the shorts he wore all summer. Sure, it were those things but there was also something else that Harry couldn’t really put a finger on. It was just something. Something that, for the first time ever, made Harry realise that there was a grown up man sitting in the armchair, instead of some teen.
Dougie noticed Harry watching him and turned his attention from the TV towards the other male. “You alright? Need something?” he checked.
Harry shook his head.
For a moment, their eyes locked with each other, barely blinking.
In that moment, Harry wanted to say so many things. He wanted to tell him Dougie how he prefered his current look over the unwashed long hair and the skateboarder-shorts. He wanted to ask him when the fuck he had embraced the fact he was approaching the decade of his life that ended the teen-years. And most of all he wanted to thank him. Thank him for just coming over after a cough down the phone. Thanking him for fussing over him but not so much that it was annoying. Just thank him for being there.
Harry would have said it all … if his voice would have let him.
Still, somehow, Dougie seemed to understand him anyway. At first he ran a hand through his hair awkwardly, then he kindly smiled at Harry.
“It’s okay, Harry.”
Harry smiled back and settled back into his pillows, finishing his dinner.
When Dougie had also finished dinner, he took the empty plastic cup away from Harry and brought it back to the kitchen. He came back with something wrapped in clear foil and started pulling pieces away from it and stuffing them into his mouth, watching TV again.
And then Harry noticed something else. Dougie was back in the room. Usually, he would have a smoke after dinner, hanging out at the back door of the house. Harry knew that because it was a habit they both shared. For obvious reasons, Harry took a break from that habit for now but why did Dougie?
Again, Dougie seemed to feel Harry’s eyes on him. He looked over and was met with a questioning gaze again.
“Cookie dough?” Dougie held his hand out to Harry. “I couldn’t resist. But can you believe they already have Christmas-cookie dough? It’s not even mid-October!” he exclaimed.
Harry shook his head and made a smoking motion with his hand.
“You’re not having a fag in this state, Harry.”
Harry rolled his eyes and pointed at Dougie.
“Oh me? Nah, don’t feel like it. ‘Sides, I left my fags at home.”
Harry gestured to the kitchen, hoping Dougie would get the meaning. Harry always kept his cigarettes in a box on the fridge.
“I know you have some. But no, thanks. We’ll have one when you’re better, okay?”
Harry just shrugged and, same as Dougie, turned his attention back to the TV.
The two of them kept sitting like that all evening, watching films, not saying a word.
After a few hours, Harry actually noticed the silence for the first time. And it was weird. Obviously, he couldn’t talk so therefore, there was no point in Dougie doing any talking either. But the silence that hung between them, it wasn’t the least bit awkward and it made Harry almost forget that his virus forced him to keep the silence between them. The silence between them was comfortable, soothing almost. It made Harry realise that their friendship had now obviously reached the point where they could be sitting with each other for hours, not saying a word and still everything was said between them.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard Dougie yawn. He blinked and saw Dougie curl up more into the armchair, obviously fighting with himself to stay awake.
To get Dougie’s attention, Harry again tapped lightly on the coffee table. Dougie jerked up and looked at Harry, fear in his eyes that he might have missed the other male needing something. Harry just smiled at Dougie and nodded towards the staircase, wordlessly telling Dougie to just go to bed.
Dougie shook his head. “Not until you’re in bed too.”
Harry snuggled up deeper into the duvet, trying to tell Dougie he was fine where he was.
“You won’t sleep here, are you nuts? You need to get into your bed and lay down properly or you’ll have a sore back tomorrow.”
Harry sighed, giving in. He flicked the remote at the TV, turning it off. He shed himself from one of his duvets and stood up, stretching to get some feeling back into his whole body.
“There we go. Now come on.” Dougie held his hand out to Harry and Harry took it, letting Dougie lead him upstairs.
When they reached Harry’s bedroom and Harry opened the door, he smiled again. Situated on his bed was probably every pillow that Dougie had found in the house, build up in a U-shape at the headrest, just perfect for Harry to snuggle into them and be surrounded by warmth and comfort. Memories from years before flooded his mind and Harry looked disbelieving at Dougie.
Dougie smiled and lifted his hand where Harry could see the faint scribbling from earlier. “Your mum told me she used to do that when you were little and had the flu. You called it the …” Dougie squinted at his hand. “Flu-fort? Sorry, the writing’s faded.”
Harry nodded, his heart filling with warmth that Dougie had created the flu-fort for him exactly like his mother had done it whenever he was ill as a child.
“You like it?” Dougie asked, looking at Harry uncertainly.
Harry nodded again and wished he could just hug Dougie right now and tell him how much he appreciated his effort.
“Good, so I’d say you go change and brush your teeth and all and I’ll do the same and then I come tuck you in.”
Harry smiled even wider at Dougie. The whole tucking in was another thing he mother always had done when he had been ill.
A few minutes later the two met in Harry’s bedroom again. Harry had dressed in one of his warm pyjamas that he had found on the heater in the bathroom. Dougie must have put it there before, knowing Harry would like the fabrics to be warm when he slipped them on.
Dougie on the other hand was just dressed in boxers and a t-shirt, obviously not as freezing cold as Harry was.
Dougie made Harry lay down in the flu-fort before getting something from the bedside cabinet. It was a bottle with some yellow label and a spoon. He uncapped the bottle and then looked closely at the spoon as he poured some thick fluid on it. He then balanced the spoon towards Harry’s mouth.
“I would’ve gone with the classic warm water-lemon juice-salt mixture but I couldn’t find actual lemon juice at Tesco’s. So I called mum and she told me this stuff does miracles. She always gave it to me and Jazzie when we were ill. Open up.”
Harry opened his mouth and Dougie inserted the spoon. Harry swallowed and shuddered at the taste.
“I know it tastes like Danny’s old socks. But how did my mum say … Medicine’s not supposed to taste good, it’s supposed to make you feel better.”
Harry pulled a face and snuggled into the pillows surrounding him.
Dougie took the duvet that Harry had previously wrapped around himself and when Harry was situated under his normal sheets and looked like he wouldn’t be moving again, he spread the duvet over him, tucking it under Harry’s body firmly, making Harry feel like he was in some sort of cocoon. Harry sighed contendly which brought another cough up. He rolled his eyes, obviously being angry at his own body before snuggling into his fort. He looked up at Dougie who sat by his side on the edge of the bed.
“Don’t even think about it. I won’t read or tell you a story and I definitely won’t sing you a lullaby.” Dougie said grinning. He stood up. “Right, your little horn is right here. Use it when you need to, understood?”
Harry nodded.
“There’s also some tissues right here.” Dougie pointed at the bedside cabinet. “I’ll leave the door open, same as mine so I can hear you. Need anything?”
Harry shook his head.
“Alright then. Night Harry.”
Dougie stood from the bed and smiled down at Harry. As he turned to leave the room, Harry reached out from under the duvet and grabbed his wrist, making Dougie spin back around.
Harry brought the tips of Dougie’s index and middle finger to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on them before releasing Dougie’s hand. Dougie smiled again and brought the same fingers to his own lips, kissing them as well before heading out of the room and turning the light off.
===
During the following days weren’t many changes. Harry’s voice still didn’t return but the coughing was now making a right pair with constant sneezing it seemed. He was still freezing all the time and moving was a hard task.
Dougie also still played his part as Harry’s nurse. He made him tea, took his temperature, fed him medicine, made him food and tucked him into the flu-fort at night. He still did it with as much enthusiasm as on the very first day which only amazed Harry. Everyone else probably would have been pissed off by now but it seemed that Dougie actually enjoyed it to play mother hen for Harry.
Tom and Danny had also paid their visits by then, both making sure to stay far away to not be the bug’s next victim. What they noticed however, was that Dougie didn’t seem to care about keeping distance to Harry and that the two seemed to be able to read each other’s minds. One look by Harry and Dougie would jump out of his seat and leave the room, return with exactly that item Harry had seemed to need.
It was another evening of Harry laying inbetween his duvets on the couch and Dougie sitting on the armchair, the two of them watching a DVD. Harry shivered despite the several layers of fabric covering him while Dougie sat there in jeans and a simple t-shirt. Harry just snorted which drew Dougie’s attention towards him.
“What is it?” the younger asked, ready to get up and fetch Harry whatever he needed.
Harry shook his head and just gestured to Dougie’s get-up in despair, not understanding how he could sit there in a t-shirt while he felt like he was on the south pole.
“Harry, you have a fever, of course you’re cold. Not all of us are blessed with an immune system like mine.”
Harry just looked at Dougie in envy, realising that indeed, Dougie was the one out of the band with the least sick days. He sure caught the flu as well but it never seemed to get him as bad as it got the others. But on the other hand, Dougie was the one who suffered the most from a hangover.
“But then again, I can’t deal with hangovers.” Dougie added as if he had read Harry’s mind.
Harry smiled and just nodded. Still, he would have prefered an intolerance to hangovers instead of suffering from a simple cold for a week. At least a hangover only lasted a day.
When it was bedtime that night and Dougie had just tucked Harry in and Harry had, like in the days before, kissed Dougie’s fingertips, he wouldn’t let go. He still held Dougie’s wrist firmly in his hand and looked deeply into the younger’s eyes, wishing he could tell him how much he would have wanted Dougie to sleep in his bed.
As usual though, Dougie seemed to understand.
“Want me to stay?”
Harry nodded.
Dougie smiled. “I’ll just go get the duvet from my room. Be right back.”
He disappeared and only moments later returned with the duvet from his room (which was actually just Harry’s guest bedroom). He re-arranged the pillows of Harry’s flu-fort so he found some space without suffocating himself and laid down.
“Man, this sure feels nice. Must remember that for when I’m ill.” He turned to lay on his side, facing Harry who looked at him sleepily. He slung his arm over Harry’s waist and pulled him a bit closer, placing a kiss on his forehead. “Now sleep Harry.”
And sure enough, moments later, Harry’s breathing evened out and he was fast asleep.
===
A few days later, Dougie awoke from his sleep. Like in the past nights, he had slept with Harry in the elder’s bed. He slowly opened his eyes, only to be met with Harry’s already open eyes, staring intently at him.
In a flash, Dougie was wide awake.
“Fuck!” he cursed, “You need something and couldn’t get me up, could you?”
Harry shook his head. “It’s fine, I don’t need anything.”
“You sure? I could take your temperature, make you a cup of - Oh hey, you’re speaking!”
Harry just nodded smiling. “Apparently so.” he confirmed, his voice still raspy but at least it was there now.
“Cool, that’s awesome. But don’t talk too much. Better let your vocal chords recover properly.”
Dougie proceeded to get up to head downstairs and start making breakfast but Harry held him close in a firm grip, not looking like he wanted to let him go. Dougie just looked at him questioningly.
“Just stay for a minute, yeah?” Harry asked.
Dougie nodded and settled back into his pillow, looking Harry deep in the eyes, the elder doing the same.
“Thank you for staying around, Dougs.” Harry finally whispered out, “Thanks for doing the shopping and making the food and for the medicine and just … everything. Really, thank you so much.”
“It’s okay, Harry. You probably would’ve done the same if that had been me.”
The two smiled at each other, letting the silence envelop them once again.
“How did you always know what I wanted, by the way?” Harry wondered aloud.
Dougie shrugged. “We’ve all been ill before, haven’t we? Not exactly hard to know what’s needed then. Besides, I’d be quite the lousy friend if I couldn’t read you after spending every day with you for the past four years.”
“If it had been Danny or Tom, would it have been the same?”
Dougie thought for a moment. “I don’t know. Don’t think so. I probably would’ve understood them at some point, I guess. But not like I understood you, if that makes sense?”
Harry nodded.
“Besides, I doubt they would’ve called me. Danny would probably just call Tom and Tom would call his mum.”
Harry laughed at that, which made him cough a little. “Fucking virus.” he cursed, “Tom is so gonna get it for giving me this.”
“I can’t wait for this.” Dougie chuckled.
Again, Dougie tried getting up but Harry still wouldn’t let him go. Dougie looked at him and could see that there was something else that was going through Harry’s mind but for once, he couldn’t quite read it.
“There something else?” he asked.
Harry didn’t answer immediately and instead let his eyes run over Dougie’s face. “You really look so much better with your hair like this.”
“What, ruffled from sleep?” Dougie grinned.
“Short, you idiot. And you should leave those shorts in the closet. Jeans suit you better.”
“I’ll make a note. Can I go make us breakfast now?”
Harry shook his head smiling, keeping a firm hold of Dougie.
The two kept laying with each other in silence for a while longer. Harry had his eyes closed again, but for some reason Dougie knew that Harry wasn’t sleeping.
“There was this moment.” Dougie started which made Harry open his eyes again, “The first evening I stayed over. I sat there, watching TV and suddenly I noticed the silence. It sounds so strange because, I mean, of course there was silence. You couldn’t speak after all. But it was … I don’t know. The silence was so … normal. Comforting. Even if you had a voice at that point, there wouldn’t have been a sense in using it. I felt like I could have endless conversations with you without even opening my mouth once. Know what I mean?”
“Yeah.” Harry whispered, “I felt that too actually. But, I mean, we’re friends right? You said it, it’d be quite poorly if we couldn’t read each other like that by now.”
“It has nothing to do with us being friends. I’m also friends with Danny and Tom but I never would feel like that with them. I sure could sit with them in silence but with them it would be silent and nothing else. The silence with you was different.”
“So what does that mean, then? Are we just closer with each other than we are with Dan and Tom?”
“Maybe we are.”
The both of them fell silent once again, keeping their intense eye contact, almost automatically scooting closer to each other. Both kept arguing with themselves if it would be right to minimise the gap between them even more, make it non-existant but some unkown force seemed to hold both of them back from it.
Then the silence was broken when both men uttered the exact same question at the exact same moment.
“Can I kiss you?”
Both errupted into a fit of giggles at that before they realised that indeed, they both wanted the same thing.
All comedy from just seconds before seemed to disappear as they looked at each other again, their eyes wandering back and forth between the other’s lips and their eyes while they slowly moved towards each other even more.
When their lips first touched apprehensively, it seemed like that was the thing that finally brought all their barriers down. Suddenly everything seemed to make sense. The way Dougie knew what Harry wanted from just one look, the way the silence between them always felt different from any other silence. The way the felt for each other.
When they pulled apart, panting slightly, Dougie suddenly had this massive grin plastered on his face.
“What?” Harry asked, playing with a strand of the other’s hair.
“I knew you were gonna need condoms once you’re better.”
Harry laughed which only caused another fit of coughs. “Shut up, will you?” he said before leaning in for another kiss.
===
The next morning Harry was startled out of his peaceful sleep by a loud sneeze. Anger at himself, at this bloody fucking virus, rose in him again but that was interrupted by another sneeze which made Harry realise that it hadn’t been him who had been sneezing.
He opened his eyes, only to come face to face with Dougie. His eyes were red and puffy and he stared back at Harry in fear.
Dougie opened his mouth to say the first thing that came to his mind. ‘Fuck, I’ve got tour-flu’. But when he tried to make his voice work, nothing would come out apart from a cough. He immediately realised what that meant and gave Harry a dark look.
“Fuck!” Harry uttered, “You’ve got tour-flu.”
The End
Comments are appreciated.
A/N 2: This definitely should've been the last post before I'll go to UK ;)
here i was with my big mouth, going all, "this is the last thing from me in a while." only to be here today, giving you yet another story i came up with. talk about contradicting myself, right?
anyway, have it.
Title: When you say nothing at all
Author: me
Rating: PG-13
Chapter: 1/1 … Standalone
Genre: Comedy/Romance
Pairing: PoynterJudd
Summary: Harry has tour-flu, the poor thing.
Disclaimer: As far as I’m concerned, this isn’t true. But what do I know anyway?
Dedication: for my poor ickle Cazzabum as a cheering up.
Author’s note: Actually, this story is all you guys’ fault. Everyone who commented on ‘No Regrets’, saying they were speechless … all of you are to blame. Cos to that I occasionally responded with ‘You say it best when you say nothing at all’ and being the sad individual that I am, this immediately brought the idea for this fic to my head.
Title, of course, the great song by Ronan Keating. But I didn't want to make a songfic, would've been too fluffy.
Also, I like this a lot more than the Pones I wrote the other day. I'm just a Pudd-girl, sue me.
It was a regular Wednesday. Some time between noon and afternoon in one of those months that wasn’t really anything. Not actual summer anymore but not proper fall yet.
Dougie was just shuffling through his suitcases, sorting his laundry. An activity he had been doing for the second day now. An all too normal after-tour-activity, doing the washing so he would have something, anything, to wear.
However, he was brought out of his domestic activity when the phone rang. He jumped up from inbetween the several piles of clothing and rushed to the front room, his eyes scanning the area, his ears picking up, trying to find out where exactly the ringing was located. It turned out to be somewhere beneath the heap of letters on the coffee table.
“Hello?” he answered.
Nothing.
Dougie held the phone away from his ear to check the caller ID, only to be reminded of the fact that the display of his cordless phone didn’t work properly anymore. He could see some faint lines that surely were part of a number, a name, but he couldn’t put them all together.
He shrugged, bringing the phone back to his ear. Maybe the other person had been distracted and didn’t even hear him answer in the first place.
“Hello?” he tried again.
This time there was an answer. But instead of a voice and an inevitable knowledge of who it was on the other end, Dougie heard a cough. A bad cough. A cough that sounded like some parts of a human lung were going to shoot right through the line and land by his feet in a few seconds time.
Still, he now knew who was calling.
“Harry?”
Again, no answer. Just really weird breathing-noises, followed right by another of those lung-destroying coughs and a sneeze to round it all up.
“You know what, this is getting stupid. I’m coming over.”
And only minutes later Dougie was down the road, ringing Harry’s doorbell.
It took a few minutes until the door opened, revealing Harry. At least Dougie thought it was Harry. The face looked like a miserable version of Harry’s and Dougie couldn’t see much else. A duvet was wrapped around the figure in front of him, making them look like a mummy. The head that poked out was hidden in the huge hood of what seemed to be an even huger jumper and a scarf was wrapped around the figure’s neck, covering their chin and parts of their mouth.
“Nice outfit, Judd.” Dougie commented and let himself inside while the figure shuffled back to where they came from.
Dougie followed and found himself in the living room. The figure was laying on the couch with another duvet covering them. For whatever reason. The heating seemed to be on full blast, it was warm enough already. The floor in front of the couch was littered with used tissues and wrappers of cough drops and on the coffee table was placed an empty tea mug and a few more packets of tissues. The TV was on, showing some cricket-match.
Harry, most definitely. Dougie thought.
“Caught Tom’s tour-flu, huh?” Dougie questioned as he plonked himself down onto the armchair.
Harry opened his mouth, trying to answer but nothing would come out. Instead his body was shook with another cough that sounded worse than those Dougie had heard over the phoneline. When Harry had calmed himself down from that, he just looked up with puffy eyes and nodded his head.
“Damn, must’ve got you bad. Tom never loses his voice completely. Would be a nice change, come to think of it. No more snapping. Oh, what bliss would that be?” He sighed dreamily.
Harry only shot Dougie a look.
Dougie raised his hands in mock defeat. “I know, I know. I’m not helping.” He scanned the room. “These the only packets you have left?” He gestured to the three lonely tissue-packets on the coffee table.
Harry shrugged, his eyes wandering towards the staircase.
“In the bathroom? Alright, I’ll check if there are some more. But first” He got up and took the tea mug. “I’m gonna make you another tea, alright?”
Harry nodded.
“You got any clean clothes?”
Harry’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline.
“Dude, I’m gonna stay here until you feel better. It’d be quite useless if you raise the phonebill even though you only cough into the phone, wouldn’t it? But I have no clean clothes. So I either wear some of yours or go get my washing over here.”
Harry gave him an apologetic smile.
“Alright, I’ll get my washing over and do our laundry. But one thing after the other, yes? I’ll make you a tea first and then I’ll go see what we’ll need and then you show me where your wallet is so I can do some shopping.”
This time, a gasp left Harry’s lips, bringing another cough up.
“Hey, take it as my payment for being your bloody nurse.” Dougie grinned which earned him a look from his friend. “You know you love me for being a cheap bugger.”
Dougie got up and made Harry another tea. He also remembered the thermos Harry had in one of the kitchen cupboards and filled that with hot tea as well before returning back to the living room where Harry was gesturing wildly at the TV with the remote.
“I know. They are bloody fuckers who could use some more training sessions and that even your granny could beat them. But waving the remote about won’t make them win either.” Dougie placed the mug and thermos on the coffee table. “Right, have you got pen and paper anywhere? I need to make a list before heading to Tesco’s so I won’t forget anything.”
Harry looked around the room, trying to remember where he had put a writing pad. Suddenly his eyes lit up. He sought his brain for anything that would make Dougie understand. In the end he settled for one movement Dougie definitely would understand. His hand that was firmly tucked under the duvet made an up-and-down-movement right over his crotch.
Dougie laughed out loud. “Bedroom? Bedside cabinet?”
Harry nodded.
“Okay, be right back. Gonna check the bathroom for more tissues while I’m up there too.”
Dougie left the room and moments later, Harry could hear him rummage about upstairs, going from one room to the other. A few minutes later, Dougie came back down, scribbling something onto the paper. Without a word, he went to the kitchen and Harry heard him opening cupboards and the fridge.
Finally, he returned back to the living room, handing Harry the writing pad and the pen.
“If you wanna add something, feel free to do it.” He then went to grab for Harry’s phone.
Harry, who just started scanning the list, gave him a questioning look but Dougie apparently already had someone on the other end.
“Tom? … Yeah, I’m at Harry’s. He’s well ill, dude, completely lost his voice … Yep, this would be your fault, you and your bloody virus’ fault anyway … Whatever, you know I’m right. Listen, can you just do the round-call, like telling everyone to not call Harry? … Yeah seriously, he can’t speak at all. If anyone wants something from him, tell them to call me, alright? … Cos I’ll be staying at his place, he’s completely useless at the moment … Well, everyone who could get the idea of calling him … Nah, I’ll call ‘em. You just do the rest, okay? … Alright thanks … Yeah, I’ll tell him … Alright, bye.” Dougie ended the call. “Tom says he’s sorry you got his bug.”
Harry just rolled his eyes.
“I know it’s bloody unfair that he’s all well. But see it like this. At least you can lay here at home. He had to play shows. And you can still kick his arse from bollocks to sundown when you’re better.”
At this a smile appeared on Harry’s face.
“I knew you were going to like this. Hey, where’s your mobile?”
Again, Harry’s eyebrows shot up.
“I need to call your mum but I don’t know the number.”
Harry nodded, understanding, before reaching his hand underneath his duvet and retrieving his phone.
“Bet you had it on vibrate down there.” Dougie joked while looking up the number. When he found it, he picked up Harry’s house phone again, typing in the numbers. “Hi Emma, it’s Dougie … Fine, you? … Yeah, tour finished off great … Uh-huh, I’m at Harry’s. That’s the reason why I’m calling actually … No, nothing to worry about, he’s just ill … Just a really bad flu, nothing too bad. He’s completely lost his voice though … No, it’s okay, I’m gonna stay here and take care of him. I just wanted to let you know … No, he really can’t say anything at all. All you get out of him is coughs and sneezes … That would be great, yeah … Okay … Yes, I’ll make sure to keep you updated … Yes, he’s going to call you first thing when he has his voice back, I promise … And I will do that as well. Just not now. I don’t quite feel like getting his bug … Alright, I’ll tell him … Oh really? Wait, I need to write that down.” Dougie snatched the pen from Harry and scribbled something on his hand before handing the pen back to Harry. “Yeah, wrote it down … Okay Emma, thanks. I’ll talk to you later … Bye.”
Dougie ended the call and tossed the phone back onto the coffee table before eyeing Harry who still read through the shopping list.
“Your mum says get well soon and that she loves you. Feel hugged by her. I’d do it but I rather you keep the bugs to yourself.” He paused. “Can think of something else I need to get?”
Harry shook his head. He turned the list around so Dougie looked at his own handwriting. Harry pointed at something written on it, looking at him questioning.
“How are condoms supposed to make you feel better? Not at all. But you don’t have any left. I figured once you are alright again, you might need some. You know, might as well get ‘em now before you have someone over and you won’t get any because you ran out of condoms.”
Harry only smiled.
“Very thoughtful of me, I know. Now where’s your wallet? And the keys to your car, come to think of it.”
At that, Harry’s eyes almost popped out of his skull.
Dougie giggled. “Hey, I passed my driving test, in case you forgot. But okay, if you insist … I’ll take my own car. Has a bigger boot anyway. I still need your wallet and the keys for the front door though.”
Harry pulled his hand back out from under the duvet and gestured to the hallway, before pointing to his back.
“In your rucksack?” Dougie guessed.
Harry nodded.
“Okay. I’ll be back soon, alright?”
Dougie got up and made to leave the room. Before he reached the doorway he turned back around though. He went back to Harry and took the remote away from him, searching the channels until he found some film. Checking when it would end and looking at his watch, he nodded before stuffing the remote in the pocket of his jeans. He was just about to leave when a tap on the coffee table made him turn around.
Harry looked at him, gesturing to the pocket where his remote poked out.
“I’m not having you watch sports. It’ll only make you want to scream at the TV and do yet more damage to your vocal chords.”
Harry’s eyes darkened.
“You don’t really hate me and you know it too. I’ll hurry up.”
And then Dougie left, leaving Harry laying on the couch, wrapped in his duvets, watching some film he wasn’t even remotely interested in.
===
About an hour later, Dougie was back. And with him probably half of Tesco’s. Four times Dougie walked through the living room, arms full of bags he brought into the kitchen. Then followed three more times when Dougie passed him, now his arms filled with clothing he brought to Harry’s laundry room.
When Dougie was done, he plonked back onto the armchair he had occupied earlier, resting for a moment. He also pulled out the remote he still had in his pocket and tossed it back to Harry who eagerly switched channels only to find out that the match of cricket he had watched before Dougie left, was now over. His face fell.
“They lost.” Dougie informed him, “Heard it on the radio.” He stood back up. “Right, better put all the stuff away. You feel like eating, or are you gonna be sick when you do?”
Harry shook his head, now noticing how hungry he actually was.
“Okay, I’ll make us some food then. And don’t worry … I bought ready meals and pot noodles. Not even I can mess those up.”
For the next few minutes all Harry saw of Dougie was him rushing through the rooms, storing things away and bringing items upstairs. Then, Dougie disappeared downstairs, obviously attending the laundry now. Before that he had tossed Harry one of the empty plastic bags that had held the shopping, telling him to at least pick up all the tissues and cough drop wrappers from the floor and toss them into the bag.
When Dougie appeared back in the living room, Harry handed him the bag. He felt quite proud of himself for collecting the rubbish since almost every movement wore him out at the moment.
Dougie warmly smiled at him. “Good boy.” he said, taking the bag away from him. “Now, what you want for dinner?”
Harry shrugged, gesturing to the kitchen.
Dougie understood. “Oh, I bought a little bit of everything. But I reckon I’ll make you some pot noodles. You know, just in case your stomach feels rebellious without you knowing.” He paused, smiling at Harry before a thought struck him. “Oh, I brought you something, totally forgot.”
Dougie rushed out of the room and re-appeared a few moments later, in his hand a little box, wrapped in colourful wrapping paper with clowns on it.
“Open it.” he urged Harry on.
Harry propped himself up into a more sitting position before unwrapping the paper. A silent laugh left his lips when he was done, only to be replaced with another shattering cough. When he had composed himself, he held Dougie’s present up. A bright red horn, one of those you can attach to a child’s bike instead of the usual bell. He looked at it from all angles, not quite sure why Dougie had bought it for him.
“In case you need anything and I’m not in the room. You squeeze that little bit at the bottom …”
Harry did and a loud squeaking noise filled the room, making him wince in surprise.
“See? You squeeze that and I’ll come to your rescue. And don’t hesitate to use it, okay? Not even at night. Squeeze it until I’m there.”
Harry shook his head, looking alarmed.
“Yes Harry, you bloody well will do it. Don’t worry about me. I’ll get my payback when you feel better.” Dougie grinned.
Harry still didn’t look too convinced though. He felt like taking advantage to Dougie too much.
“Don’t be stupid, Harry. You’d do the same for me.”
Dougie disappeared back into the kitchen and only a few minutes later he came back, handing Harry a steaming plastic cup with a fork poking out, his dinner. For himself, Dougie had heated up a ready meal in the microwave. They both ate, watching whatever there was on the TV.
While Harry ate, his eyes kept occasionally wandering over to Dougie, taking in the other guy sitting in the armchair, happily eating away while watching TV. Harry couldn’t fail to notice how different Dougie looked now. It was not just the short hair he had now or the proper trousers he was wearing instead of the shorts he wore all summer. Sure, it were those things but there was also something else that Harry couldn’t really put a finger on. It was just something. Something that, for the first time ever, made Harry realise that there was a grown up man sitting in the armchair, instead of some teen.
Dougie noticed Harry watching him and turned his attention from the TV towards the other male. “You alright? Need something?” he checked.
Harry shook his head.
For a moment, their eyes locked with each other, barely blinking.
In that moment, Harry wanted to say so many things. He wanted to tell him Dougie how he prefered his current look over the unwashed long hair and the skateboarder-shorts. He wanted to ask him when the fuck he had embraced the fact he was approaching the decade of his life that ended the teen-years. And most of all he wanted to thank him. Thank him for just coming over after a cough down the phone. Thanking him for fussing over him but not so much that it was annoying. Just thank him for being there.
Harry would have said it all … if his voice would have let him.
Still, somehow, Dougie seemed to understand him anyway. At first he ran a hand through his hair awkwardly, then he kindly smiled at Harry.
“It’s okay, Harry.”
Harry smiled back and settled back into his pillows, finishing his dinner.
When Dougie had also finished dinner, he took the empty plastic cup away from Harry and brought it back to the kitchen. He came back with something wrapped in clear foil and started pulling pieces away from it and stuffing them into his mouth, watching TV again.
And then Harry noticed something else. Dougie was back in the room. Usually, he would have a smoke after dinner, hanging out at the back door of the house. Harry knew that because it was a habit they both shared. For obvious reasons, Harry took a break from that habit for now but why did Dougie?
Again, Dougie seemed to feel Harry’s eyes on him. He looked over and was met with a questioning gaze again.
“Cookie dough?” Dougie held his hand out to Harry. “I couldn’t resist. But can you believe they already have Christmas-cookie dough? It’s not even mid-October!” he exclaimed.
Harry shook his head and made a smoking motion with his hand.
“You’re not having a fag in this state, Harry.”
Harry rolled his eyes and pointed at Dougie.
“Oh me? Nah, don’t feel like it. ‘Sides, I left my fags at home.”
Harry gestured to the kitchen, hoping Dougie would get the meaning. Harry always kept his cigarettes in a box on the fridge.
“I know you have some. But no, thanks. We’ll have one when you’re better, okay?”
Harry just shrugged and, same as Dougie, turned his attention back to the TV.
The two of them kept sitting like that all evening, watching films, not saying a word.
After a few hours, Harry actually noticed the silence for the first time. And it was weird. Obviously, he couldn’t talk so therefore, there was no point in Dougie doing any talking either. But the silence that hung between them, it wasn’t the least bit awkward and it made Harry almost forget that his virus forced him to keep the silence between them. The silence between them was comfortable, soothing almost. It made Harry realise that their friendship had now obviously reached the point where they could be sitting with each other for hours, not saying a word and still everything was said between them.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard Dougie yawn. He blinked and saw Dougie curl up more into the armchair, obviously fighting with himself to stay awake.
To get Dougie’s attention, Harry again tapped lightly on the coffee table. Dougie jerked up and looked at Harry, fear in his eyes that he might have missed the other male needing something. Harry just smiled at Dougie and nodded towards the staircase, wordlessly telling Dougie to just go to bed.
Dougie shook his head. “Not until you’re in bed too.”
Harry snuggled up deeper into the duvet, trying to tell Dougie he was fine where he was.
“You won’t sleep here, are you nuts? You need to get into your bed and lay down properly or you’ll have a sore back tomorrow.”
Harry sighed, giving in. He flicked the remote at the TV, turning it off. He shed himself from one of his duvets and stood up, stretching to get some feeling back into his whole body.
“There we go. Now come on.” Dougie held his hand out to Harry and Harry took it, letting Dougie lead him upstairs.
When they reached Harry’s bedroom and Harry opened the door, he smiled again. Situated on his bed was probably every pillow that Dougie had found in the house, build up in a U-shape at the headrest, just perfect for Harry to snuggle into them and be surrounded by warmth and comfort. Memories from years before flooded his mind and Harry looked disbelieving at Dougie.
Dougie smiled and lifted his hand where Harry could see the faint scribbling from earlier. “Your mum told me she used to do that when you were little and had the flu. You called it the …” Dougie squinted at his hand. “Flu-fort? Sorry, the writing’s faded.”
Harry nodded, his heart filling with warmth that Dougie had created the flu-fort for him exactly like his mother had done it whenever he was ill as a child.
“You like it?” Dougie asked, looking at Harry uncertainly.
Harry nodded again and wished he could just hug Dougie right now and tell him how much he appreciated his effort.
“Good, so I’d say you go change and brush your teeth and all and I’ll do the same and then I come tuck you in.”
Harry smiled even wider at Dougie. The whole tucking in was another thing he mother always had done when he had been ill.
A few minutes later the two met in Harry’s bedroom again. Harry had dressed in one of his warm pyjamas that he had found on the heater in the bathroom. Dougie must have put it there before, knowing Harry would like the fabrics to be warm when he slipped them on.
Dougie on the other hand was just dressed in boxers and a t-shirt, obviously not as freezing cold as Harry was.
Dougie made Harry lay down in the flu-fort before getting something from the bedside cabinet. It was a bottle with some yellow label and a spoon. He uncapped the bottle and then looked closely at the spoon as he poured some thick fluid on it. He then balanced the spoon towards Harry’s mouth.
“I would’ve gone with the classic warm water-lemon juice-salt mixture but I couldn’t find actual lemon juice at Tesco’s. So I called mum and she told me this stuff does miracles. She always gave it to me and Jazzie when we were ill. Open up.”
Harry opened his mouth and Dougie inserted the spoon. Harry swallowed and shuddered at the taste.
“I know it tastes like Danny’s old socks. But how did my mum say … Medicine’s not supposed to taste good, it’s supposed to make you feel better.”
Harry pulled a face and snuggled into the pillows surrounding him.
Dougie took the duvet that Harry had previously wrapped around himself and when Harry was situated under his normal sheets and looked like he wouldn’t be moving again, he spread the duvet over him, tucking it under Harry’s body firmly, making Harry feel like he was in some sort of cocoon. Harry sighed contendly which brought another cough up. He rolled his eyes, obviously being angry at his own body before snuggling into his fort. He looked up at Dougie who sat by his side on the edge of the bed.
“Don’t even think about it. I won’t read or tell you a story and I definitely won’t sing you a lullaby.” Dougie said grinning. He stood up. “Right, your little horn is right here. Use it when you need to, understood?”
Harry nodded.
“There’s also some tissues right here.” Dougie pointed at the bedside cabinet. “I’ll leave the door open, same as mine so I can hear you. Need anything?”
Harry shook his head.
“Alright then. Night Harry.”
Dougie stood from the bed and smiled down at Harry. As he turned to leave the room, Harry reached out from under the duvet and grabbed his wrist, making Dougie spin back around.
Harry brought the tips of Dougie’s index and middle finger to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on them before releasing Dougie’s hand. Dougie smiled again and brought the same fingers to his own lips, kissing them as well before heading out of the room and turning the light off.
===
During the following days weren’t many changes. Harry’s voice still didn’t return but the coughing was now making a right pair with constant sneezing it seemed. He was still freezing all the time and moving was a hard task.
Dougie also still played his part as Harry’s nurse. He made him tea, took his temperature, fed him medicine, made him food and tucked him into the flu-fort at night. He still did it with as much enthusiasm as on the very first day which only amazed Harry. Everyone else probably would have been pissed off by now but it seemed that Dougie actually enjoyed it to play mother hen for Harry.
Tom and Danny had also paid their visits by then, both making sure to stay far away to not be the bug’s next victim. What they noticed however, was that Dougie didn’t seem to care about keeping distance to Harry and that the two seemed to be able to read each other’s minds. One look by Harry and Dougie would jump out of his seat and leave the room, return with exactly that item Harry had seemed to need.
It was another evening of Harry laying inbetween his duvets on the couch and Dougie sitting on the armchair, the two of them watching a DVD. Harry shivered despite the several layers of fabric covering him while Dougie sat there in jeans and a simple t-shirt. Harry just snorted which drew Dougie’s attention towards him.
“What is it?” the younger asked, ready to get up and fetch Harry whatever he needed.
Harry shook his head and just gestured to Dougie’s get-up in despair, not understanding how he could sit there in a t-shirt while he felt like he was on the south pole.
“Harry, you have a fever, of course you’re cold. Not all of us are blessed with an immune system like mine.”
Harry just looked at Dougie in envy, realising that indeed, Dougie was the one out of the band with the least sick days. He sure caught the flu as well but it never seemed to get him as bad as it got the others. But on the other hand, Dougie was the one who suffered the most from a hangover.
“But then again, I can’t deal with hangovers.” Dougie added as if he had read Harry’s mind.
Harry smiled and just nodded. Still, he would have prefered an intolerance to hangovers instead of suffering from a simple cold for a week. At least a hangover only lasted a day.
When it was bedtime that night and Dougie had just tucked Harry in and Harry had, like in the days before, kissed Dougie’s fingertips, he wouldn’t let go. He still held Dougie’s wrist firmly in his hand and looked deeply into the younger’s eyes, wishing he could tell him how much he would have wanted Dougie to sleep in his bed.
As usual though, Dougie seemed to understand.
“Want me to stay?”
Harry nodded.
Dougie smiled. “I’ll just go get the duvet from my room. Be right back.”
He disappeared and only moments later returned with the duvet from his room (which was actually just Harry’s guest bedroom). He re-arranged the pillows of Harry’s flu-fort so he found some space without suffocating himself and laid down.
“Man, this sure feels nice. Must remember that for when I’m ill.” He turned to lay on his side, facing Harry who looked at him sleepily. He slung his arm over Harry’s waist and pulled him a bit closer, placing a kiss on his forehead. “Now sleep Harry.”
And sure enough, moments later, Harry’s breathing evened out and he was fast asleep.
===
A few days later, Dougie awoke from his sleep. Like in the past nights, he had slept with Harry in the elder’s bed. He slowly opened his eyes, only to be met with Harry’s already open eyes, staring intently at him.
In a flash, Dougie was wide awake.
“Fuck!” he cursed, “You need something and couldn’t get me up, could you?”
Harry shook his head. “It’s fine, I don’t need anything.”
“You sure? I could take your temperature, make you a cup of - Oh hey, you’re speaking!”
Harry just nodded smiling. “Apparently so.” he confirmed, his voice still raspy but at least it was there now.
“Cool, that’s awesome. But don’t talk too much. Better let your vocal chords recover properly.”
Dougie proceeded to get up to head downstairs and start making breakfast but Harry held him close in a firm grip, not looking like he wanted to let him go. Dougie just looked at him questioningly.
“Just stay for a minute, yeah?” Harry asked.
Dougie nodded and settled back into his pillow, looking Harry deep in the eyes, the elder doing the same.
“Thank you for staying around, Dougs.” Harry finally whispered out, “Thanks for doing the shopping and making the food and for the medicine and just … everything. Really, thank you so much.”
“It’s okay, Harry. You probably would’ve done the same if that had been me.”
The two smiled at each other, letting the silence envelop them once again.
“How did you always know what I wanted, by the way?” Harry wondered aloud.
Dougie shrugged. “We’ve all been ill before, haven’t we? Not exactly hard to know what’s needed then. Besides, I’d be quite the lousy friend if I couldn’t read you after spending every day with you for the past four years.”
“If it had been Danny or Tom, would it have been the same?”
Dougie thought for a moment. “I don’t know. Don’t think so. I probably would’ve understood them at some point, I guess. But not like I understood you, if that makes sense?”
Harry nodded.
“Besides, I doubt they would’ve called me. Danny would probably just call Tom and Tom would call his mum.”
Harry laughed at that, which made him cough a little. “Fucking virus.” he cursed, “Tom is so gonna get it for giving me this.”
“I can’t wait for this.” Dougie chuckled.
Again, Dougie tried getting up but Harry still wouldn’t let him go. Dougie looked at him and could see that there was something else that was going through Harry’s mind but for once, he couldn’t quite read it.
“There something else?” he asked.
Harry didn’t answer immediately and instead let his eyes run over Dougie’s face. “You really look so much better with your hair like this.”
“What, ruffled from sleep?” Dougie grinned.
“Short, you idiot. And you should leave those shorts in the closet. Jeans suit you better.”
“I’ll make a note. Can I go make us breakfast now?”
Harry shook his head smiling, keeping a firm hold of Dougie.
The two kept laying with each other in silence for a while longer. Harry had his eyes closed again, but for some reason Dougie knew that Harry wasn’t sleeping.
“There was this moment.” Dougie started which made Harry open his eyes again, “The first evening I stayed over. I sat there, watching TV and suddenly I noticed the silence. It sounds so strange because, I mean, of course there was silence. You couldn’t speak after all. But it was … I don’t know. The silence was so … normal. Comforting. Even if you had a voice at that point, there wouldn’t have been a sense in using it. I felt like I could have endless conversations with you without even opening my mouth once. Know what I mean?”
“Yeah.” Harry whispered, “I felt that too actually. But, I mean, we’re friends right? You said it, it’d be quite poorly if we couldn’t read each other like that by now.”
“It has nothing to do with us being friends. I’m also friends with Danny and Tom but I never would feel like that with them. I sure could sit with them in silence but with them it would be silent and nothing else. The silence with you was different.”
“So what does that mean, then? Are we just closer with each other than we are with Dan and Tom?”
“Maybe we are.”
The both of them fell silent once again, keeping their intense eye contact, almost automatically scooting closer to each other. Both kept arguing with themselves if it would be right to minimise the gap between them even more, make it non-existant but some unkown force seemed to hold both of them back from it.
Then the silence was broken when both men uttered the exact same question at the exact same moment.
“Can I kiss you?”
Both errupted into a fit of giggles at that before they realised that indeed, they both wanted the same thing.
All comedy from just seconds before seemed to disappear as they looked at each other again, their eyes wandering back and forth between the other’s lips and their eyes while they slowly moved towards each other even more.
When their lips first touched apprehensively, it seemed like that was the thing that finally brought all their barriers down. Suddenly everything seemed to make sense. The way Dougie knew what Harry wanted from just one look, the way the silence between them always felt different from any other silence. The way the felt for each other.
When they pulled apart, panting slightly, Dougie suddenly had this massive grin plastered on his face.
“What?” Harry asked, playing with a strand of the other’s hair.
“I knew you were gonna need condoms once you’re better.”
Harry laughed which only caused another fit of coughs. “Shut up, will you?” he said before leaning in for another kiss.
===
The next morning Harry was startled out of his peaceful sleep by a loud sneeze. Anger at himself, at this bloody fucking virus, rose in him again but that was interrupted by another sneeze which made Harry realise that it hadn’t been him who had been sneezing.
He opened his eyes, only to come face to face with Dougie. His eyes were red and puffy and he stared back at Harry in fear.
Dougie opened his mouth to say the first thing that came to his mind. ‘Fuck, I’ve got tour-flu’. But when he tried to make his voice work, nothing would come out apart from a cough. He immediately realised what that meant and gave Harry a dark look.
“Fuck!” Harry uttered, “You’ve got tour-flu.”
The End
Comments are appreciated.
A/N 2: This definitely should've been the last post before I'll go to UK ;)