#oioioi where's my best friend turned lover then eh ??

[duskholland]

If You Feel The Same | Harrison Osterfield

summary ↠ six months ago, you said goodbye to your best friend Harrison as he left to travel the world. now he’s back, and you don’t really know how to act. 

word count ↠ 3.7k

warnings ↠ drinking, swearing, bit of a steamy kiss

a/n ↠ I was intending to write a birthday fic for Harrison, but I couldn’t shake this idea out of my head, so instead you get a friends-turned-lovers non-birthday fic. lol. I haven’t written much for Harrison before but...I love him? and I really like how this turned out, so I hope you enjoy it too! please let me know if you have any thoughts :)

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There’s an atmosphere of comfortable warmth inside the pub tonight. You’re sitting with your thighs pressing against the slightly sticky booth, index finger slowly trailing around the rim of your half-drunk pint, and you’re glad for the background noises. You focus on the distant laughs and chatter coming from the other patrons, trying to relax as you wait. You’re the first one here, the others all running late, so you hadn’t hesitated to grab a beer and neck it fast. You feel so drawn in and anxious that you’re finding it hard to sit still, the beer taking the edge off, but not easing you enough. Every time the door swings open and you’re hit by a waft of freezing London air, you feel your hackles rise in anticipation. You’re absolutely shitting it, and whilst you know it’s uncalled for, the longer you have to wait, the more nervous you become.

You’ve made it to your second pint when you’re finally joined by your friends. The door swings open, and you recognise the four figures that walk in immediately, regardless of the fact that they’re all bundled up in an assortment of heavy jackets and woollen scarves. You raise a hand and Sam sees you first, pointing over to your table before walking across the pub, a large smile on his face.

“Y/N!” He greets, sliding into the booth beside you and pulling you into a hug. “Long time no see, eh?”

You laugh, your nerves vanishing as you look at your friend fondly. “I saw you two days ago, Sam,” you remind him, nudging his side discreetly.

“Still.” His eyes shift to your glass, then back to you. “Already getting on it?”

Your lips pull into a guilty grin. “Have to keep the nerves at bay somehow,” you murmur, earning a slightly disapproving smile from Sam. Before he can chime in with something unhelpful, you’re joined at the booth by his brothers Tom and Harry, and Harrison.

“Stop hogging her, dick,” Harry says, glaring playfully at his twin. “Some of us haven’t seen Y/N in six months.”

“Well maybe if some of you bothered to come home and visit us more often, this wouldn’t be a problem,” Sam chides, a playful edge to his voice. He stands from the booth and offers you a hand, pulling you up with him. You wobble to your feet, your head momentarily clouding over as you feel a little tipsy, all of a sudden, but you’re pulled back to earth as Harry hugs you tightly, his curly hair brushing against your neck. You can’t help but smile widely, your heart settling a little happier in your chest now you’re so near your friends again.

You’ve been best friends with Harry and Sam since you were all kids and you’d been assigned to the same table in primary school. Your relationship with them meant you’d quickly settled into an easy friendship with their older brother Tom, and his best friend, Harrison. Through it all - auditions, exams, the pains of growing up - you’d stuck it out together, and you’re proud to call the four guys standing around you your best friends. It doesn’t matter that three of them have just spent six months travelling around the world with Tom’s job, leaving behind you and Sam, because now you’re back together, finally able to sit down in your favourite pub, and you know everything will go back to normal.

Well… maybe not everything.

As Tom releases you from his arms and sits in the booth with Harry and Sam, you’re left standing in front of Harrison. Your gaze nervously wanders everywhere but his face, taking in his long, fitted coat and the silver signet ring that glints off his finger. He seems to have filled out over the past months, his shoulders wider and his stature fuller, and you find yourself concluding that he must have spent a considerable time in the gym.

By the time your eyes land on his face, you’ve got your lower lip pulled between your teeth, your breathing shallow as you try to calm down your racing heart. It’s like a thousand different emotions pass between you as you meet his icy blue eyes, his gaze shifting from one of amusement to a softer, more intense stare. His lips quirk into a warm smile and he opens his arms invitingly, and any plan you’d had to keep your distance goes straight out of the window as you collapse into his warm embrace.

“Haz,” you mutter, sighing contentedly as he holds you close. It doesn’t matter that his coat is covered in cool raindrops, nor that you know you’ve got three sets of prying eyes fixed on your entwined figures - all you can think of is Harrison. Harrison with his hands on your waist and his hot breath fanning over your forehead, and the scent of his rich, husky cologne.

“I missed you,” Harrison says, punctuating each of his slow words with a soft kiss to your forehead. The feeling of his lips on your skin dredges up all the memories you’d spent six months burying, and despite feeling so utterly comfortable with your face pressed up against his front, you force yourself to pull back.

You play with your fingers as you look at your friend carefully, his gaze mimicking yours. “Can’t believe it’s been six months,” you find yourself saying, earning a nod of agreement from the man. “You look good.”

He quirks an eyebrow, his lips twisting into a cocky smirk. “You too.”

Before your exchange can continue, you feel someone poke you, and crane your neck back to see Sam looking at you, a knowing smile on his face. “Can you guys go get the first round?”

“I’ve already got-” You break off as you see Tom draining the final drops of beer from your previously-full glass. “Knobhead,” you comment, earning a laugh from the man. “Been back two minutes and you’re already ruining my life.”

Tom just shrugs and pulls out his wallet. He slides you the plastic card and you raise an eyebrow. “Bigshot actor now, eh?” You tease, pocketing the card.

“Shut up,” he replies, cheeks tinting a healthy pink. “Harry’s getting the next round.”

As the table dissolves into a fit of squabbles, you feel Harrison’s arm go around your shoulders. You lean into his touch, smiling shyly to yourself as he leads you up and towards the bar. His hand slips down until he’s holding your waist, and it feels so perfect having his fingers curled up around your side that it makes you frown as you reach the bar and he separates from you. As you order the drinks, you exchange a few light words, his eyes on yours, his touch returning every few seconds as he nudges at your shoulder or pushes your hair from your face, and it’s so comfortable and familiar that it makes your heart twitch painfully every time he moves away.

The hours slowly slip away, spent away at the booth in the corner of the pub. Tom keeps you entertained as he recounts a few of his most bizarre tales from set, Harry or Harrison jumping in to add a few forgotten details every once in a while. Harrison’s sat beside you, his jacket hanging over the back of the booth, his hand resting comfortably on your knee. The touch keeps your mind anchored, stops you from spinning away in your tipsy thoughts as the temptation to recall that night keeps growing, growing. It isn’t until Harrison mutters a loud ‘is that what you really want’ to Tom that you succumb, and the memory passes behind your eyelids before you can stop it.

[-----]

It’s a hot August night. Suitcases are precariously stacked in the porch of Tom and Harrison’s house and you have to maneuver carefully to avoid pushing anything over as you walk inside. Music throbs through the house, growing louder as you push through groups of tipsy people, some you recognise, others you don’t. It’s a going away party, screams one of the banners that twirls up the staircase, and you feel your mood dampen as you’re reminded - again - that tomorrow, Tom, Harry and Harrison will be jetting away. You’ve seen their schedule, and you know there’s no way you’ll be able to get time off from uni, so this is the last night you’ll have together before they return. The last night you’ll have with him.

You spot Harrison across the room, his gaze already on you. It makes you smile shyly, your feet taking you off towards him before your mind has time to catch up. He excuses himself from his conversation before meeting you in the middle of the floor, his lips catching your cheek as he hugs you close.

“You look sad,” he comments immediately. You pull back from the hug and his hands slip to hold your waist, a bittersweet smile on your face.

“I am sad,” you admit, sucking on your lower lip as you ponder your words. “I’ll miss you a lot, Haz.” And you know you really will. You’ve never been away from any of the guys for as long as six months before, and Harrison has always lived a little closer to your heart than any of the others. And recently… Well, recently, maybe things between you have been getting a little more intense. Maybe sometimes he hugs you randomly, and sometimes you snuggle into his chest during film nights, and sometimes you let your fingers trace through his shaggy curls. Maybe you’ve grown fond of him - fonder than you should, given he’s been one of your best friends for years.

“I’ll miss you too, Y/N,” he says, eyes falling downcast. One of his hands shifts from your waist and tangles with yours, the wide pad of his thumb stroking over the back of your hand softly. “I… uh, I really-”

A sudden roll of laughter from a group beside you breaks his words, and you have to swallow back your irritation as you use your grip on his hand to pull him away from the noisy living room. Harrison follows you up the stairs, his arm brushing against yours as you reach the top and pull him into his room, the hubbub of the party below fading away until it’s just you and him, alone, in his messy bedroom.

“Sorry,” you say suddenly, realising what it must look like. “I couldn’t hear you down there.”

He laughs, the sound wonderful and deep and beautiful. He swings your joined hands together, bringing a grin to your face. “‘S okay. Don’t know why Tom invited so many people. You’re the only one I wanted to see before we left,” he says cryptically.

“Don’t let Sam hear you say that,” you tease.

“Well, Sam’s different.”

“How?”

“He’s… Sam.”

“And I’m Y/N?”

Harrison rolls his eyes, exasperation filtering out over his face as he sighs. “No. I mean, yes, but…” He steps nearer, the air between you suddenly shifting, darkening. “I don’t feel the same for you that I do for Sam, alright?”

Your eyebrows arch up your forehead. “So what exactly do you feel for me then, Haz?”

His tongue slips from his mouth, dancing dangerously over his lower lip as he brings his free hand up to your face, cupping your cheek delicately. Your heart is in your throat as his inviting, blue eyes peer into yours, an expression of curiosity fixed to the lines of his handsome face. You give him a small incline of a nod, and then his lips softly nudge against yours, meeting in a tentative burn of passion that you’ve been dreaming about for months.

It’s weird, to be kissing Harrison. It feels so perfect that it’s almost too good to be true. As you kiss him back, it grows in fervour, your hands looping up around his neck as you fist his curls in your fingers, letting his roam over your body. He holds you so firmly that it makes you feel like you're his, and if you could bask in that feeling forever, you know you would. Fuck, you’re so in love with him…

It gets heated quickly. One moment you’re standing in the centre of the room, swaying in his hold, the next you’re pushing him down on the bed and you’re straddling his lap. His hands dig into your waist, slipping up beneath your shirt and tracing over the hot skin of your back, your own fingers twirling around his necklace as you pant into his mouth. The whole situation is so dizzying and overwhelming that you have to take a break, and as you pull away from his mouth, you feel a sense of regret. He notices your hesitation, hands stilling and moving back to your waist, and he looks at you carefully. “What’s going on up there?” Harrison asks, bringing one, gentle finger up to tap at your forehead.

“You’re such an asshole,” you find yourself saying, tears suddenly pricking at your eyes. You push at his chest, anger replacing everything else. “You- I- You wait until the night before you’re flying away to do this?!”

Harrison’s face falls, guilt seizing his features. “I didn’t know…”

“Bullshit.” You’re angry now, your heart pulsing painfully. As you stare at your best friend, you bring your hands up and clench them into fists. “You knew how I felt.”

“And you knew how I felt,” he counters, his face irritated. “You waited as well, Y/N,” he says. “Don’t put this all on me.”

Your eyes screw shut as your nails dig into the skin of your palms, your breathing gradually slowing as his fingers trace softly across your waist. “I just…” You pause, finally unclenching your fists and dropping your forehead so it’s resting on his shoulder comfortably. He pulls you closer, his head burying in your hair. “You’re my best friend, Haz? And I… We can’t lose this. Not now. Maybe if you weren’t going away tomorrow, things would be different, but you are.”

With careful hands, Harrison pries you away from his chest until he can meet your eyes, his blue irises twinkling sadly. “Is that what you really want?”

You sigh, shrugging helplessly. “There’s not really an alternative, Haz,” you say. “Just… Go off and enjoy the world, alright? I’ll still be here when you come back. And if you- if you fall in love with someone else whilst you’re away, that’s fine. I’ll get over it.”

“What if you fall in love with someone whilst I’m gone?”

“I won’t,” you promise. You pick up his hand and kiss his knuckles softly, meeting his eyes nervously. “I wouldn’t be able to do that, I…” I love you.

Harrison sighs, his face conflicted and distraught, but he nods his head slowly. “I’ll come back to you,” he says sweetly. He leaves a very quick, very light kiss on your lips, and it makes your heart pang. “I love-”

You kiss him firmly, fingers grabbing at the front of his shirt. You mumble against his lips a sad, “I know, me too,” and then you pull back and climb up from his lap, fixing your hair quickly. “We should go join the party. They’ll be wondering where we are.”

Harrison nods softly, his demeanour deflated, but when you reach to grab his hand, his eyes regain some of their sparkle. “It’s only six months,” he says, trying to convince himself. “How much can change in six months?”

Everything, you want to say. Everything could change. But instead, you give him a shrug and lead him out of his bedroom, the moment behind you, the imprint of his lips against yours hanging over your mind.

[-----]

Maybe you’d been a coward. For the time he’d been away, you’d caught yourself berating your own actions, analysing them, dissecting them, even sometimes regretting them. But you know that the timing wasn’t right. What were you supposed to do? Sleep with him and then immediately say goodbye? That would have been worse than waiting on tenterhooks for six months, waiting to see if he’d find someone else, waiting on him to come back. It was like your life was on pause for those long months, only truly moving when you were texting him or calling him. It was long, and hard, and heartbreaking. But was it worth it?

You end up in the club.

It’s 2am and the room is spinning. Pulsing strobes and banging music shake your body, and you’re absolutely steaming as you enjoy yourself on the dancefloor. Harry’s already gone - disappeared with his arm around a girl, and you know Sam and Tom are flagging fast. The only one who’s managed to keep up with you, as always, is Harrison, and he’s got his hot hands pressing into your waist as you dance up against him.

He’s intoxicating. With his lips wandering up and down your neck, you find yourself reaching back and grabbing fistfuls of his hair, keeping him close, longing for him. Your bodies are pressed so tightly together that you can feel every single bump, every detail of his figure, and you’ve missed it so much.

“We’ve got a uber!” You’re pulled from your thoughts and blink a few times, Sam’s figure suddenly appearing in front of you. Harrison promptly stops his movements, his hands still holding your hips, and both of you lean nearer to the boy to hear him. “Me and Tom are going home. Do you want to come with us?” Sam yells, forehead sweaty. His eyes flicker down to where Harrison’s holding your waist, his eyes lighting up mischievously.

“No,” Harrison says immediately. Then he falters, glancing at you. “I mean, we can. I don’t mind.”

Your lips drift into a lazy smirk. “I live five minutes away, Sam. It’s fine. Haz can just stay with me, or go back later.”

His grip tightens on your waist. “Well, I’m not going to let you walk back by yourself,” Harrison says, voice cutting through the banging tunes.

Sam looks between you both. “Fine, we’ll leave you both here,” he says finally. Then his eyes narrow and he reaches out to poke your arm, then Harrison’s. “Be safe, alright?”

Sam and Tom have barely left the club before Harrison’s spinning you in his arms, moving you around to face him. His pale face is flushed a deep red, scattered rays of bright reds and blues shifting over his features as the music pounds. Your eyes connect, and the breath leaves your lungs as you just...look. You look at him hard, eyes examining every part of his face, retracing the features so familiar that you’ve spent nights looking at them behind your eyelids. His nose, his cupid’s bow, his lips. God, you could spend hours just looking at his lips.

He leans in, mouth brushing at your ear. “Let’s go home, yeah?” He reaches down and tangles your fingers together, and your heart beats weakly in your chest as you nod.

The walk back takes longer than five minutes, mainly because the cold crisp air brings your tipsiness to the forefront of your mind. You’re laughing, and Harrison’s saying something totally absurd, and then you’re both clinging to one another, bending over in peals of laughter as tears prick your eyes. You’re sure what he’s saying isn’t even funny, but in the moment, so overcome with different emotions and liqueurs, Harrison may as well be the funniest man in the world. When you eventually stumble back to your flat, Harrison has to hold your fingers and help you guide the key into the lock, setting you off again. You’re still laughing as he slides the lock shut behind you, the sound only puttering off into light giggles as you fall back on your bed, exhausted.

It’s been a rollercoaster, seeing him again, and feeling all those old emotions spring forward and seize hold of you. He’s still so fucking attractive, even now with his blond curls sticking to his sweaty forehead and his blue eyes tired and slightly bloodshot. He’s still utterly breathtaking as he lies down beside you, body sinking into the mattress as he pulls you close, guiding you onto your side so you’re cuddling him, your head on his chest. He still makes you feel weak as his lips drag over your hairline, and you cling to him because you’re terrified to let him go again.

“You meet anyone while I was away?” He says, finally addressing the elephant in the room. You shift slightly, craning your neck up as you look up at him, meeting his nervous gaze.

“Of course not,” you reply immediately, heart turning at the thought. “Did… Did you?”

He shakes his head, fluffy curls resting against your pillows. “Got everything I need right here.”

And you just melt.

Moving slowly, you shift so you’re laying on top of him. With tentative and measured movements, you crawl up his chest until your face is hanging above him, giving you the perfect view. His eyes meet yours, his small smile growing larger as you drag your lips over his cheek, leaving a scattered trail of kisses up and over his cheekbone, across his forehead, down over his other cheek, and then ending with a final kiss on his nose. Your mouth hovers over his lips as his hot breath fans over your face, and then his hands find your sides and he’s pulling you in.

You kiss, and immediately you know that six months apart was far too long, because you’d forgotten how magical it felt to be kissing your best friend. His hands slipping up, over the front of your dress, up into your hair, pulling you as close as possible as you kiss him firmly, lovingly. His lips part and your tongues dance together, and he tastes like beer but it’s okay because you do too. He’s utterly intoxicating, and as he cradles you in his strong arms, you give yourself over completely.

“I’m yours,” you mumble against his mouth. “I fucking love you, Harrison.”

Between kisses, he says, “I love you too,” and the words bring tears to your eyes.

“Never leave me again,” you say, voice wobbling. You stop kissing him, just so you can pull back and look at the face you’ve fallen so deeply in love with.

“I won’t,” he says. He catches your lips in a soft, warm kiss, and you realise that his mouth feels a little like coming home. “I promise.”

[-----]

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