Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own McFly. Or Pudd.
Another day, another interview. This was normal for the McFly boys, especially when they were on tour. The tired-looking reporter fired another question, and Tom gave her a witty answer. Danny added something in his Bolton accent. Everyone laughed, even the reporter, although Dougie knew she probably didn't give a shit about them—they were just a boy band. She was in her mid-forties. No way she listened them…unless she had daughters? Sons? Gay sons? Dougie felt himself getting sidetracked and stuttered when he found the next question aimed toward him.
"Er…yeah." He looked toward Harry for help. "Erm…" He looked at Danny.
"He and Harry finished recording their bits first, and after that, they were off on vacation in Australia," Tom scoffed. "Danny and I didn't see the light for days."
"Yeah," Dougie giggles. They're talking about the new album. Of course. He was long gone, off in his own head. That was actually where he usually was during interviews, or talking to someone quietly and then laughing loudly. Those moments were awkward.
But right now, he was staring into space, unconsciously furrowing his eyebrows and biting his lip. Suddenly, he felt something sliding into his pocket and staying there. He'd never admit how much it excited him. Without even looking down, he knew what it was. He knew what it meant, and he knew that he couldn't look it at it under any circumstances. It was warm and soft…it was a hand.
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That night, as usual, Danny and Tom slept in the same hotel room, and Harry and Dougie slept in the adjoined room. Each room had twin beds, but the second the four boys turned off their lights, Dougie got up and padded over to Harry's bed. Harry pulled the covers over him and suddenly the two were kissing passionately.
Harry breathed between kisses, "You were so good today."Dougie didn't respond. He didn't want to stop kissing. Within seconds, Harry had Dougie's pants and boxers off, and then his own. He kept his shirt on but took off Dougie's. "Lay on the bed," he whispered, and pushed him roughly onto his stomach. Dougie oofed when he landed, hoping it wouldn't wake up Danny or Tom. The latter was much too curious for his own good.
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The next morning, Harry wasn't any different. He never was. Every night after it happened, Dougie hoped something would change. Anything. He'd been so passionate the night before; he'd done it just as they liked it, but now…nothing. Dougie remembered their agreement, but was beginning to realize how much better it suited Harry's needs and not his own.
He glanced up from his eggs and caught Harry's eyes over the table. Sure, he smiled, but he always smiled. He had smiled when they met—he had smiled before anything had happened between them. Of course Harry didn't mean to be cruel, this was just the way he was. But Dougie was starting to feel torn up inside.
FLASHBACK
Dougie looked up at his face, laughing hysterically. "Stop it!" Harry knew tickling was his weakness.
"Never!" Harry smiled cheekily.
"Stop it stop it stop it!" Dougie writhed around on the floor as Harry straddled him. "Stop it stop I love you stop it!"
"What?!" he stopped abruptly, and Dougie felt stupid lying on the floor.
"Nothing."
"What did you just say?"
"Nothing."
"You said I love you."
"I said stop it."
"You said I love you."
"No…er, no I didn't."
"You love me."
"No I don't!"
"Yes you do," Harry smiled cheekily. "You bloody love me."
"I DON'T!"
"You do! You love me." Harry was still straddling Dougie. Dougie wondered why he didn't move. Then, out of nowhere, Harry leaned down and kissed Dougie on the forehead. Dougie seized the opportunity and kissed him back on the cheek, then the neck, and all of a sudden, Harry was on top of him, pinning his arms back, and kissing him all over. Then he took off his shirt. Dougie felt his head rush into space.
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The next night, after a horribly awkward day, Dougie finally got a chance to speak to Harry. All day, Harry had been exactly the same as always—too much the same. Hadn't everything changed the night before? Dougie swallowed his fear and cleared his throat.
"Er, Harry?"
"Yeah, Doug?" Harry said, casually. He was sniffing his underwear, trying to decide which were clean enough to wear again.
"What happened last night?"
"Oh…right," he said as if it had just occurred to him. "About that." Dougie braced himself. "See, Dougie, that was kind of an—accident." Dougie visibly cringed. "Er—not an accident, sorry. What I mean is, it was a one-time thing. Sorry, mate. I dunno if we can do it again."
"So…you…you didn't like it?"
Harry chuckled. "…No, no…I did. It's just—it's not my thing."
"Seemed like it was at the time," Dougie said stiffly. He laughed again. Dougie wished he would stop.
"Yeah, yeah, I guess it did. All right, Doug. Here's the deal. If I ever feel like it again, I'll let you know, okay?"
"Okay," Dougie said.
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He had no idea at the time, but that was one of the worst deals he'd ever make. It was the most important deal he'd ever make, and he wouldn't realize until much later how binding it was. It was literally whenever Harry felt like it. It was a lot more often than Harry had thought it would be—as much as five times a week. Sometimes there were dry spells, and those were the worst.
They had agreed that if Harry wanted Dougie that night, he'd slip his hand casually into Dougie's pocket sometime that day. As a result, Dougie stopped wearing the few pairs of pants he had that didn't have pockets. His worst fear was that one day Harry would try for his pocket but he wouldn't have one.
It was actually very embarrassing how much he needed Harry nowadays in that way. Every night that he knew he wasn't going to Harry's bed was a sad one. Luckily for Dougie, they slept in the same room back in London too, but what Dougie really wanted was more than just the friends-with-benefits deal. At first, it was exciting, different, and it meant Harry. He also secretly liked the submission. But soon enough, occasional, purely sexual relations weren't enough.
He was lucky though.
Two days after that interview, Dougie felt a hand slip into his pocket when Harry was sitting next to him on their bus. He looked up and Harry smiled at him. He felt his heart flutter insanely fast. He blushed and looked down. That wasn't the odd part.
When they were going through the McDonalds drive-thru before their show, Dougie felt another hand in his pocket…Harry's. Right before they went on stage, throughout the hot, stuffy crowds of people, the makeup, the mikes, and the rush, Dougie felt a hand in his pocket. He'd learned not to recoil. He followed the hand up to the arm and caressed it. Harry grinned.
After the show, when Doug was taking off his guitar, and putting it on the bus, he saw something white awkwardly taped to the side of it. It had to be Harry. He didn't know anything about guitars. Dougie excitedly picked it up and scanned it.
It read simply: "I love you too."