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“Right?” Jack slapped their palms together lightly in mid-air.
Harry beamed at him. “This is such a good recommendation for Bad Boyfriends. I should add it to the cards—Happy customer weds man of her dreams. Do you think Mia will invite me to the wedding, since I was sort of responsible for this?”
Jack snorted. “Oh, I’m sure my parents would be so happy to see you again!”
Harry threw back his head and laughed. “They would, wouldn’t they? And your grandparents!”
“You were all they talked about for weeks.”
Harry’s eyes shone, and he tugged his fingers through his hair. Jack wanted to do the same. “It’s so weird to think there are people out there who legit hate me. And they’re decent people too!” His grin grew. “But Mia and Tate are happy, right?”
Jack nodded.
“Worth it then,” Harry said. “And a baby! That’s awesome. I love babies!”
Jack gave him a moment to backtrack or to clarify, but he didn’t. Just stood there grinning and looking way more adorable than Jack needed to realise right now. “I don’t really have much to do with them.”
“They’re great,” Harry said. “Just, like every day they’re learning something new, you know? First it’s like, ‘Hey, look, I’ve got toes!’ and before you know it they can tell you what sounds all the animals make. I mean, I can hardly remember something I learned in a lecture last week, but babies? Every single day their world expands so much, and they get so much new information to take onboard, and they just roll with it. They’re incredible.”
Oh, shit, Harry was seriously cute like this. We don’t crush on the straight roommate, Jack reminded himself.
It was just that he was finding that particular rule harder and harder to follow.
Jack’s living situation had improved since moving into the house in Dickson Street, but he couldn’t say he was sleeping that much better. That was mostly because of a serious case of blue balls. Listening to Tristan and his latest hook-up go at it like rabbits every night wasn’t exactly relaxing. And ‘rabbits’ wasn’t an exaggeration. The guy was the Energizer Bunny, but a lot less child friendly. Jack was pretty sure there were still batteries involved, though.
Harry, though… In the weeks since Jack had moved in, he still hadn’t figured out if Harry was seeing anyone and, if he wasn’t, if he wanted to be. It was the dumbest fucking idea in the world to hook up with a housemate, and Jack knew that—it’d only end badly—and despite his blue balls it had been easy enough to ignore what his dick wanted up until now, but then tonight had happened. Tonight, and the crafting incident.
Jack was in the kitchen, in the middle of a text message exchange with his mum. She still wasn’t happy she’d heard from Mia that he’d moved out instead of from him, and insisted on texting him every evening now with a barrage of questions, just in case she missed anything important. He couldn’t wait until Mia dropped the news about the wedding, because he knew all Mum’s attention would be on Mia from that second on, and he would at least be able to try to make a toasted sandwich in peace. He buttered his bread between answering texts, hoping he was hitting whatever apologetic tone she needed him to hit so that she didn’t get annoyed enough to call him, when he heard some very familiar theme music coming from the living room. Familiar in that it was wired into the parts of his brain that stored all his childhood memories and the nostalgia for them. The last time he’d heard it must have been twenty years ago, but the memories came flooding back.
Was…was someone watching Play School?
He ignored his phone and hurried down the hallway. When he poked his head around the living room doorway, he found Harry sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV, a bunch of paper plates, poster paints, cotton balls and glue spread out around him. He was watching the Play School presenters avidly.
“What are you doing?” Jack asked.
Harry jolted and twisted around. A pink flush rose on his cheeks. “Oh, hey. Just, um, stuff for my next prac. I’m making a lion mask. I don’t have any orange or yellow though, so I think my lion’s gonna be blue.”
Jack had to fight a sudden urge to kiss the end of Harry’s nose, because he looked fucking adorable. Adorable? Adorkable? Jack wasn’t sure. Whichever it was, all he knew was that the way Harry looked right now, cotton balls in hand, glasses slightly askew and cheeks pink, he was more than just mildly attractive. He was also clearly embarrassed, so Jack did the only thing he could think of. He plopped down next to him, folding his own legs underneath himself, and picked up a paper plate. “I never got to make a mask when I was a kid. I was banned from scissors in preschool.”
Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “How? I mean, they’re safety scissors.”
Jack bit his lip. “They still cut hair, though.”
Harry gasped. “You didn’t! Yours, or someone else’s?”
“Ginny McWhirter. She pushed me over at playlunch, and those pigtails were a perfect target.”
Harry laughed, his eyes bright, and Jack wondered how he’d ever thought this guy was an arsehole, even for a split second. He was suddenly curious about Harry’s date tomorrow with whoever it was this week, and how it would all play out. He could barely imagine Harry acting like a dick, while at the same time he knew he must have been able to do it brilliantly—his parents and grandparents had been talking about Mia’s horrible boyfriend for weeks. Hell, they’d probably be talking about him for the rest of their lives.
“—or both?”
“What?” Jack had missed whatever Harry was saying.
“Did you cut off one or both?” Harry asked, grinning.
“Oh! Um, only one. I cut it right at the laccy while we were having quiet time and her head was on the desk. I was a vengeful little shit as a child, apparently.”
Harry laughed again. “Oh, that’s awful. And I thought you were a decent person. Did you get sent home with a naughty note?”
