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22. Coffee in Bed

Author's Note: Ummm my poll on my message board is tied (some people voted privately) and that doesn't help soooo someone go break the tie? Go pick which story you wanna see next! :)

22. Coffee in Bed

Scott awoke slowly to the feeling of fingertips against his scalp.

He kind of felt like he had been hit by a bus.

He nuzzled into his pillow, to find that that pillow had a ribcage.

He blinked awake then, as he remembered the events of last night and this morning.

"Do I get coffee now?"

Harry looked down at him with a soft expression on his face, checked his watch, and appeared to mull this over. Finally, he nodded.

"Four hours. You were a good boy. You can have coffee," Harry teased.

"Four hours?" Scott asked, sitting upright too fast. The room spun for a second. "How bored were you, this time?"

Harry laughed, sitting up as well. "I may or may not like this show," Harry simply said.

Scott smirked as the information registered. "Oh yeah? We Americans don't ruin everything, huh?"

"Not everything," Harry said, softly, and pulled Scott a bit closer by his waist. "Just the English language, healthy portion sizes, politics, healthcare..."

Scott clasped a hand over Harry's mouth, unable to prevent a laugh from escaping his lips. "Shut it," he said with a smile.

"Only if you keep smiling," Harry replied.

They sat there for a moment, just looking at one another. Harry looked like he wanted to say something else, and Scott wondered what that could be.

"Let's get you some real coffee. Not the stale, cold hotel stuff," Harry offered. "Oh, um, but first..." he leaned back and grabbed Scott's phone from the end table, handing it to him. "Mark called... while you were sleeping."

"Oh," Scott said, and it emerged as more of a squeak than an actual word.

"I had half the mind to answer it," Harry said quietly. "But I didn't."

"You would have given him a heart attack," Scott said, trying to put on a joking tone. "The Harry Styles talking to him? He'd pass out."

"The Harry Styles yelling at him, is more like it," Harry deadpanned. But then, he smiled nervously. "Want me to give you some privacy to call him back?"

Scott shook his head. "No... that's okay."

"If you're... trying to work something out, just tell me, okay?" Harry asked, and suddenly, he sounded small. Unsure of himself.

Scott stared at the green eyes in front of him, close enough for them to lean forward and touch lips. Close enough to peel each other's clothing off, close enough to lay Harry down...

And here they were, talking about Mark.

"I'm not trying to work something out," Scott replied, thankful that his voice carried the confidence in his answer that he was trying to convey. "I was... talking to him... since Manila. Trying to... stay above water, so to speak?" Scott rambled, praying that he was making sense.

Harry nodded. "I get that."

Scott took the phone from Harry, and began to type, feeling the gaze of those green eyes on him as he did so, as fingertips traced shapes on his shoulders, patiently.

He held out the phone towards Harry, and a surprised look spread across the man's features as he looked at the screen.

Scott: Mark, we shouldn't talk anymore. It isn't good for either of us. Take care of yourself, okay?