#that weird pig statute in the album photo book

[ferryboatpeak]

*chants* headcanons headcanons headcanons ! Also I'm loving all of your little observations on the Jamaican idyll so far!

Bless you for your interestin my Cocosan headcanons. In gratitude, I am answering this inquiry with ficlets.

First, let’s talk for amoment about Harry getting the master suite (the only Cocosan bedroomassignment that is #confirmed by HS:BTA). I see at least two options for how this went down.

Option A:

Harry claims the mastersuite without a second thought, like it’s his due. When he arrives, he lopesupstairs and straight out onto the balcony, spreading his arms wide to touchboth edges of the view over the ocean. It feels like his chest isn’t big enoughto contain his happiness at being here, hidden away but still the center ofattention, doing exactly what he wants to do.

Option B:

When they arrive, Harryleaves Jeff Azoff to oversee unloading the van and heads through the housetoward the pool. He strips to his pants and jumps in, washing away the planeflight and feeling his body settle into Jamaica.

After a few laps, he pullsup on the side of the pool and rests his chin on his forearms, looking outthrough the tops of the palm trees toward the ocean. Harry hears the slap offlip-flops approaching, and turns to see Jeff rolling up his cuffs at the topof the pool stairs. He wades down to the second step and sits on the edge ofthe pool, feet submerged and a bottle of Red Stripe in his hand.

“Your stuff’s in the master upstairs,”Jeff says.

That feels a little weird.“Should we save it for Jeff?” Harry asks, brow furrowing. “Or do you want it?”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “Harry,you’re in charge here,” he says. “You’ve got to act like it.”

Now, onward to the othersuites. Photos and hitch ficlets below the jump…

Comparing interior andexterior photos, I have reached the following conclusions about the locationsof the six named Cocosan suites:

There is also anunadvertised seventh suite,which is almost certainly on the lower level.

I’m assuming that big dogJeff Bhasker got the Junior Master, the second-best suite after Harry’s. I alsothink that Jeff Azoff orchestrated the room assignments but knows his place,and would therefore claim the Veranda Suite, the third-best suite because it’sthe only other room with a balcony. (The Veranda Suite is also in closeproximity to Harry, which I believe to be a priority for Jeff.)*

Here’s where it getsinteresting. There’s one room left upstairs: the Rock Suite. It has a view aaaaaaaandis conveniently next door to Harry. There are two more rooms on the main floor– the Garden Suite and the Pool Suite – and the secret seventh basement suite.

Our remaining personnelinclude Tyler Johnson (Grammy-nominated songwriter, clearly next in thehierarchy after Jeff B.), guitarist and producer Alex Salibian, engineer andMitch’s roommate Ryan Nasci, and Mitch (who needs no introduction).

So what does Harry Styles dowith this? And by “Harry Styles,” I mean “Jeff Azoff, acting either underHarry’s orders or with a well-honed instinct for what will keep Harry happy.”Giving Tyler the Rock Suite and putting Mitch and Ryan (roommates, bandmates,friends) together on the main floor would be logical. Alex takesthe basement.

But Harry Styles is not acreature of logic. He is a creature of emotion. And his emotions are tellinghim that Jamaica is the perfect time to make a move on Mitch, because Harry,who came of age with his hand on at least one bandmate’s dick at all times,does not understand that it is possible to work collaboratively and admiresomeone’s talent without crossing all that person’s boundaries and stickingyour tongue down his throat. So the other possibility is that Harry insistsupon Mitch being right next door in the Rock Suite.

OptionA:

The sky over the ocean is faintlypink when Mitch pulls on his pajama bottoms and pads down the stairs, gritsticking to the bottoms of his feet.

He’s right in the center ofthe staircase, nowhere to hide, when the swinging door to the kitchen thumps openand Ryan emerges with both hands wrapped around a coffee mug. Mitch suppressesa cringe.

Ryan stops when he seesMitch. “Really?” he says, eyebrows raised.

“We were watching a movie,”Mitch says, trying not to break stride on his way through the front hall. “Ifell asleep.” (The truth, although a highly selective version of it.)

“Sure,” Ryan says, drawingout the vowel. “That’s just happened every night for a week, right?”

“What do you care?” Even asthe words come out of his mouth, Mitch knows they’re not fair. He’s only herebecause of Ryan, and Ryan’s here at the whim of Tyler and Jeff. He can’t blameRyan for being worried about his own ass.

Ryan sighs. “Just don’t fuckthis up.”

And that’s the last thingMitch wants. He’d feel terrible if he ruined anything for Ryan just becauseHarry Styles can’t keep his dick in his pants for two months and Mitch can’tsay no, wouldn’t want to say no, is more overwhelmed by Harry than he’s everbeen by another human being, is later than usual coming downstairs this morningto his own cold and comfortable bed because he kept telling himself justanother five more minutes and then he’d unwrap his arm from around Harry’s waistand unbury his nose from the back of Harry’s sleep-scented neck.

So he can’t blame Ryan for worrying about Mitch fucking up thiswhole situation. It’s just that ever since Harry leaned over the guitar inMitch’s lap to kiss him, with his wide mouth warm and his rings cool againstMitch’s cheek, there hasn’t been a single option that doesn’t seem likely to fuckit up somehow.

Option B:

It’s a little strange whenJeff Azoff points Mitch up the stairs and sends Ryan to the back of the groundlevel, but Mitch isn’t going to question the room assignments. He’s not goingto question anything. Jeff could tell him to sleep in the driveway and Mitchwould smile and thank him.

He finds the room Jeff described,just off the top of the stairs. It’s got three windows that look out over thepool to the ocean. Mitch opens one to see if there’s a sea breeze. Then he turnsup the air conditioner. What the hell, he’s not paying the electric bill.

Someone knocks on the doorframe while Mitch has his nose pressed to the window screen. He turns to seeHarry leaning against the doorway. He’s either on his way to the pool or he’s justcome from there, based on his yellow trunks. They’re somehow smaller than swimtrunks ought to be.

Mitch reminds himself tomake eye contact. It seems less dangerous than the swim trunks.

Twelve seconds later, Mitchremembers that eye contact with Harry is exhausting. “Do you like the room?”Harry finally asks.

“Yeah, it’s great.” Mitchseizes the excuse to turn back toward the window. “Love the view.”

Harry joins him, leaning hisbare shoulder into the window frame, closer to Mitch than there’s any reasonfor him to be.

“If you need anything,”Harry says, rubbing his thumb and index finger along his lower lip, “I’m rightnext door.”

*note: I am aware that Jeff Azoff may not have hungout in Jamaica for a full two months. More likely, he visited briefly and didnot stay at Cocosan. (Probably he and Glynne stayed someplace even nicer, certainlysomeplace with a bed big enough for Harry to join them for a night or two.) Buthe’s in the BTA Jamaica footage, so I’m going with Jeff A. as the roomassignment sergeant.