Be My Boyfriend (ft. Narry)

it.

ok before anything else,

holy shit this thing reached #143 in ff and #203 in teenfic and what

thank you everyone <3

i'm sorry if this is a late update. my fuckin sister deleted my folder (so all copies and prechapters are freaking non-existent). that bitch. oh and i tried to reach harper for a copy but suddenly whoopsie doo she wouldn't talk to me

ah, ways to make somebody feel awful

but thanks for the rankings, guys. oh and what what what 14k reads and 1.5k votes aha why do you even read this?

like tell me seriously

***short chapt. today :(

but then again thank you and vote, comment, follow, SHARE THE LOVE. <3

[unedited]

13. Drunk Moron

'Harry, come over.'

'y'

'Just come.'

I roll my eyes after I finish reading the text message Gideon has sent. It's Wednesday and I just got home from school. I'm in my bed, watching a YouTube video about Massachusetts, until Gideon asks me to come over. This vaguely demanding message causes me to groan inwardly when I take my earphones out of my ears and drag my feet to the bottom level of our house. I yell at my mother that I'm going out and she yells back some words that I cannot comprehend, but I'm pretty certain it's about me barely living in our house. I can't blame myself. The house is quite entertaining with an always absent sister, aggressive and carefree mother, and the 16 and Pregnant's exclusive star. At the same time, however, it's tiring being the only male human in our home.

I walk to Gideon's house for 20 minutes. Madison warmly welcomes me when I arrive and I tell her that I'm visiting for her son. I go to Gideon's room and find him splayed on the floor with five bottles of Redbull. I question the alcoholic beverages but he answers that we shall bond the manly way, so I shrug, sit with him on the floor, and drink a bottle as well. We drink for about a couple of hours (with more beer appearing) until I can feel my body drifting, floating melodramatically on imaginative clouds. My sight grows darker and darker and my weight feels as if non-existent, gone.

I'm practically prancing in my own Heaven. Drunk Heaven, perhaps.

I have forgotten to mention before that whenever I'm drunk, I am aware that I am drunk but at the same time, I feel infinite. As if I'm somewhere in Neverland with my arms open and my feet glued. I'm flying. I feel infinite, like a lost boy. I feel infinite. I feel infinite.

Gideon starts to play a song through the speaker, locking his bedroom door cautiously to prevent someone, preferably Marisol, from sneaking in. He plays My Chemical Romance' 'Teenagers' and together, we caterwaul the lyrics. I personally think that this is some secret way to pour emotions out of your chest and I also believe that it's a very clever but dangerous due to the public disturbance law. We can barely care less. It's quite funny though, because besides the moment I asked Gideon why there are Redbulls in his room, we haven't spoken to each other. Just drink, and drink, and drink, and drink. We also sing. And then we drink again.

And then I start to cry. Believe me, I don't know why but I cry.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Harry?" Gideon questions with concern laced on his voice. He leans down to catch my swaying body. I'm dizzy. "You okay? Man, you need a haircut."

"I LOVE REDBULL!" I cry out, sobbing violently on the floor with my fringe slowly sticking on my face. "I love alcohol! But I don't sell drugs! BOO HOO, POLICE!"