Sidemen Shots

Power Cut ~ Wroetofreezy

Harry swore as his computer shut off, the lights in his room flickering off with it.

"Cal!" He shouted, only continuing when he heard a distant response shouted from the living room. "What the fuck have you done, now?"

There was silence, then the padding of feet towards his room. His door opened, and Cal popped his head in. It was late, like late-late (very dark outside) and without the lights, Harry couldn't make out much. But from what he could tell, Cal was frustrated.

"I ain't done anything, lad. It's a fucking power cut you dumbass."

Harry groaned, loud and put-off.

"We were filming a video."

"Well you can't now, can ya?"

Harry sent a glare towards Cal, but he doubted he could see it. Annoyed, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to the Sidemen grpupchat.

Harry
sorry guys... power cut

Harry didn't bother waiting for a response, just clicked his phone off and chucked it on his bed. Noting Cal's absence, he got up, picked his phone back up from his bed and switched on his torch.

Slowly, with his torch aimed forward, slightly downwards, Harry left the room.

He could see a small ring of orange-yellow light coming from the living room, so he went there first.

"Messaged the landlord, the whole building's out." Was the first thing Cal said to Harry as he stepped into the living room.

"Right."

Not looking at Harry, Cal flopped backwards onto the sofa, his face blank. He pointed to the old camping torch providing that orange-yellow light.

"Think that's on its way out. Probably won't last long and we haven't got any batteries for it."

"I still have those candles, we'll just get those if we need to."

Cal nodded, slapping the sofa cushion next to him in an indication for Harry to sit down.

Harry did so, placing his phone screen-down on the coffee table, enveloping the room in a bright, white light.

Five minutes later, Harry spoke into the silence, shocking Cal away from his daydream and back into reality.

"I miss having power cuts with Lux; those were fun." Harry said, reminiscent of their old power cut antics.

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Cal nod. "They were."

Another five minutes of silence go by, and then the torch gradually begins to flicker.

"For fucks sake!" Cal yelled, before getting up and walking over to the torch. He picks it up, switches it off and then walks back over to the sofa.

As he did that, Harry reached forward for his phone, turning it on and putting the brightness on full. He used a mug from the coffee table to prop it up so both the torch and the screen could be seen, hitting the left and right sides of the room. (Otherwise the light would be shining right at them.)

When Harry sits back, he finds himself sitting a little closer to Cal, somehow. Must have been the way they both sat back.

When Harry's screen begins to dim, Harry rushes forward, realises his phone is at one percent and groans when he's too late. His phone begins powering itself off, dead.

"This is some rotten luck we have." Cal states, and he's looking towards Harry, so Harry thinks it's only polite he looks at him, too.

It's dark, and they both go to get up at the same time, prepared to search for those candles in the pitch black. Only, they're too close to do so, their heads bashing together. Harry, partway up already, loses his footing and falls forward, straight into Cal.

Cal lands sort of on his back on the sofa, body half twisted at an awkward angle. Harry's on top of him, sprawled out, and there's something soft against his lips.

And, oh shit, those are lips. Harry's lips.

Harry blinks twice, slowly, before he scrambles backwards, so fast he almost falls off the sofa. His cheeks are a bright, flaming red, but Cal can't see that.

The two stay in silence, Cal staring up at the ceiling with his back now flat against the cushions and Harry huddled into the corner of the sofa, knees drawn up to his chest. (His cheeks are still pink, because oh god, he's embarrassed.)

The silence is broken by Cal, his voice lazy around a careless sentence. "That wasn't a bad kiss." He pauses. "You know, for one between two mates in the pitch black after one attacked the other."

Harry's mouth drops, and they can both hear the squeak in his voice as he talks. "I didn't attack you!"

Cal has an eyebrow raised, and he's still looking up at the ceiling, but Harry doesn't know that.

"What did you do then?"

"I-I... you know." Harry finishes lamely, because he doesn't know what he did if he didn't attack him. (Other than kiss him, he knows he kissed him!)

Cal is speaking again, clearly mocking him, and Harry wants him to stop. And obviously, the only way to do so would be to jump at him and kiss him. A proper kiss, not an accidental touch of lips.

Cal blinks, shaken, because suddenly Harry is there, straddling him, and he's leaning down to kiss him again- and oh shit, is that tongue?

(It is. It is tongue.)

Harry's leaning back, breathless, and suddenly the lights are on.

The two of them blink rapidly, eyes adjusting to the light. Cal is speechless, because Harry looks - hot, he looks hot. His face is pink and he's panting, eyes hooded.

Cal closes his eyes, squeezes them shut, then opens them. He expects Harry's to be gone, but he's still there, more attractive than ever before.

"This is- shit. That was good, yeah?"

And Harry's nodding, frantically, lips red. His bottom lip is puffy, yeah, but why does Cal still want to kiss him?