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Title:
Headache
Author:
Amanda. Mandy. All me.
Genre:
Angst, PWP, FWP
Rating:
17+ ish.
Summary:
 
“Hey Dougs. Why are you up here all alone?” “Headache.” 
Dougie tries to adjust to Harry no longer being single - or, apparently, heterosexual.
Warning:
Fluff-without-a-plot, run-on sentences, BOYS MAKING SWEET SWEET LOVE OMGGRAPHIC BUTTSECKS.It's not funny. It's dreadfully angsty, and then dreadfully sweet. Soooorry.
Length:
4,300+ words
Disclaimer:
The world would be in very big trouble if I actually owned McFLY.
 
I’m a jumpy mess as I glance at the clock again; only minutes after the last time I’ve taken a peek.Time seems frozen, and it just doesn’t seem possible to be this nervous about seeing someone I seeevery other day. But believable or not, I can’t deny that I’m a jittery mess of nerves because you aregoing to be in this room with me in less than 10 minutes.It isn’t something that has grown slowly over time, you know. This obsession, fixation… oh, fuck it,
love 
I have for you. It hit me hard and fast, like a bullet to my heart. From the moment I’d becomelost in those hypnotizing blue eyes I’d known that I wouldn’t be satisfied until I had you for my own.My eyes are drawn to that clock again, eyes tracing the numbers and desperately hoping thatsomehow the minutes had passed without me noticing. Things had gotten steadily worse when we’dmoved in together; just knowing that only a few layers of flimsy, paintball-stained walls separated usnearly killed me. It certainly hadn’t helped when we grew older and acquired more fame as a bandand you left no doubts in any one’s minds about your sexuality as you screwed your way through half of Britain’s female population before settling for a row of steady girlfriends.The fans made things even worse; every time we saw a banner urging myself to profess my undyinglove for you, or a crudely drawn picture or clever manipulation of the two of us in compromisingpositions, a little tiny piece of me shriveled up with the knowledge that you laughed and read themin a joking tone because to you it was inconceivable.But it all just made me want you more. Hiding my feelings has been my way of coping, self-preservation, if you will; but as the years have passed and the question of dating has come up timeand time again, simply repeating “It’s complicated,” has begun to raise more questions instead of poseas a satisfactory answer. I just can’t gather the courage to officially come out of the closet with theknowledge that you are assuredly heterosexual, untouchable even if currently single.My train of thought is broken as the sound of a car’s tires crunching on the gravel driveway becomesclear. We’re here in Tom’s house with some mates and coworkers to barbecue and just chill, Danny’salready here and I can hear him bustling round in the kitchen with his girlfriend, an over-tanned,probably fake blonde with impressive knockers and legs up to her chin. Predictable in a way that’salmost cute.My heart leaps into my throat when the door opens and you call out that you’ve arrived. You’ve beenout all day; you had to take care of something with Tom, something to do with Super Records. Hey, Iget that this whole having-our-own-label thing isn’t just all perks and extra money, and I’m perfectlyhappy to let the two of you handle the icky details.Trying to keep my expression neutral, I go to greet you.God, just seeing your face light up in a grin like that makes me feel dizzy. You should be illegal – no,wait, they should pass a law that you’re only allowed to smile at
me 
like that, and that you have to doit every day to appease me. That’s better.“Hey Pugsley,” you greet me lightly, and only years of practice makes me reply in the same light way,rather than press you up against a wall and…
 
A small brunette follows Tom and Giovanna into the corridor and shuts the door behind her. Theunexpected sight is enough to calm my excitement and keep me in control when you reach out andpull me to your firm chest in a brief hug, although I can’t stop the shiver that runs through me whenyour lips accidentally graze my neck. I look at her again but she just seems to be a tag-along, noreason for me to worry even if her eyes are firmly attached to your backside.I let myself smile again as we gather in the living room and turn up the music a little bit, Tomunloading six-packs onto the coffee table. I sit on the sofa and try not to look at you. This is provenuseless when you throw yourself down next to me, groaning something about paperwork.If I don’t look at you I won’t melt. Seems like a good plan.Forgot about your voice, though. Kind of a bad thing to forget, seeing as it’s so sexual I could cum justfrom listening to you. And I
have 
once, although you don’t know that and I hope you never dobecause it’s the creepiest thing I’ve ever done to date.“Get me a beer, Doug?” You ask wearily. Well duh, like I could refuse you with the butterflies in mystomach going mad at the sound of your voice.Before I hand it to you I crack it open for a taste. Mm, cold and delicious; I close my eyes, rolling itover my tongue before swallowing. I open my eyes to see you swallow as well, your eyes on mymouth. I try not to read into it as I hand you the bottle, noting that your lips touch the rim rightwhere mine had.Your thigh bumps mine to the music, and I don’t think you notice you’re even doing it as that girlfrom earlier engages you in conversation. I relax and enjoy the shock that rolls through me everytime our legs meet.The evening wears on, chatter and laughter mingling with the music and sounds issuing from the TV.I’m enjoying myself even though the air-conditioning doesn’t seem to be working, which actuallyisn’t bad because at some point you take off your shirt, complaining of the heat.I’m staring and you might notice, but I can’t help myself, can’t take my eyes off of you. If you couldlook into my mind at this moment, even you with your gutter mind would be shocked at the lewdcourse it’s running.You haven’t stopped talking with the girl next to you, you’re far too touchy-feely with her, leadingme to think that there actually is something between you. But, no, you’d’ve told me, right? We’reclose, perhaps not as close as I’d like us to be, but a bond is still there. You wouldn’t keep somethinglike that from me.My heart drops so far but jumps into my throat to choke me at the same time when someonewhispers to me how cute you two are, how happy they are that you’d gotten a girlfriend, finally;apparently everyone had worried you were gay over the short period of time where you didn’t let onthat you were dating anyone. I hadn’t been worried at all; I’d been reveling in the attention I’dreceived as a result of your single status.
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