Sidemen Shots

So Pretty ~ Minishaw

Written for -Clouds9.

-

Simon has always prided himself on his observational skills, on his ability to read people. Because of this, Harry had always appealed the most to Simon, as a lot of people struggle to task themselves with his way of thinking. Obviously, Simon struggled too sometimes, but other times he could understand Harry pretty quickly. Does so the best out of the Sidemen, he would argue.

Right now was one of those times that Simon could read Harry instantly, could see right through him - not that Harry was particularly trying very hard to conceal the fact that he was currently feeling himself.

Simon watched, fond smile unhindered, as Harry peeked through the corner of his eyes, trying to get a glimpse of himself through the large glass window of the building they were standing next to as they tried to figure out where to go for dinner after a successful main channel shoot.

Harry wasn't contributing at all to the conversation, hadn't at all since he first suggested the idea; to be fair to him, Simon hadn't said anything either. The last thing Simon said was at the final destination for the video

After another five minutes of useless deliberation, their restaurant choice had been decided by Kon. Once Josh had finally pulled up the directions to the nearest one, the group headed off, following the phone's orders. Simon lingered, lagging behind slightly in order to talk to Harry.

"You look good." Simon pointed out to the younger, shy smile smaller but no less genuine. "That top suits you, you're in better shape than you were..."

Bashful, Harry tilted his head down, blushing with a grin that he tried to hide from Simon, though the other still saw it. "Ahh, if you really think so."

The two followed behind the group by several metres, strolling through their own little world slowly.

"I do think so." Simon looked away from Harry long enough for them to cross the two roads that the group up ahead did, then glanced back to him as soon as they were back on a pavement. "I always think so. You're so pretty."

It took Simon a second or two to realise that Harry had come to a sudden stop, his eyes wild with repressed insecurity. As Harry spoke, his words were hurried, his tone simultaneously expectant and bewildered. "I'm what? What did you just call me?"

For some reason, Harry sounded like he didn't believe Simon was telling the truth, didnt believe that he was being honest and vulnerable.

Nervous, but not wanting to break his stride, Simon continued walking, his head nearly twitching to look back at Harry; his fear of rejection was the only thing that kept his head facing forward.

"I called you pretty. You have ears for a reason, Harry - you should use them." (Simon wouldn't be Simon if he didn't sprinkle in a few snarky comments in the middle of what was suddenly gearing up to be his long awaited love confession.)

Despite having heard Harry's hasty footsteps that caught the other up with him, Simon really hadn't expected him to be so close when he turned to look. The shorter man was suddenly right up against him, practically breathing down his neck.

It was this, somehow, that caused the words to tumble out of his mouth in an instance, the previously secret feeling no longer kept so close to his heart.

"I'm in love with you!" Simon blurted.

It was just... Harry had looked so natural, his handsome features open with panicked affection and naivety: to Simon, he looked every bit of the breathless romantic lead of Simon's recurring dream.

"...I'm... in love with you." Simon dumbly reiterated as if Harry hadn't heard him the first time. He met eyes with Harry, gulping apprehensively. "Have been for a while, if I'm honest."

Focused, Simon watched Harry gasp in a lungful of air, his mouth parted ever so slightly in his surprise. The younger man's eyebrows furrowed minutely, his voice shaky when he finally responded to Simon.

"Really?" He asked, his gaze lowering as he lost all confidence in himself, gulping before continuing. "Please tell me this isn't a joke, or that one of the other guys put you up to this. I might genuinely lose my mind if you're not being serious."

Well, those words sure gave Simon the confidence that Harry had lost.

Simon stepped forward once, then twice, in order to bridge the small gap that he had created between them in the shock of finding Harry so close to him moments ago. His eyes, knowing Harry's own wouldn't want to meet again any time soon, fell instead to Harry's lips. The whole time he spoke, they remained, never leaving; they were as resilient and patient as Simon had been these last few years, ever since he first realised that he had fallen in love with Harry.

"It's not a joke. None of the guys put me up to this, either... they don't even know I'm confessing right now. Though, to be fair, I didn't know I was going to either!" Simon took a deep breath in the hopes to calm himself, not wanting to get too worked up to a point where he couldn't steer this situation in to the outcome he so desired. "Other than Tobi, none of them even know that I had feelings for you. Well, have feelings for you. Present tense. They haven't exactly gone anywhere, despite me wanting them to."

Harry blinked once, then twice, the slow succession a representation of how caught off guard he was because of Simon. His mouth visibly fought to pronounce words, but none came out immediately. Eventually: "If- if you tell me those feelings don't plan to go anywhere any time soon, then I might just have to ask you to be my boyfriend."

Harry's voice was faux light, the jokey tone disturbed by the strained edge it had, unveiling Harry's (to Simon) obvious discomfort. Except that his discomfort didn't mean that he didn't want for this conversation to continue, as he was expecting it to go in a direction that would easily benefit and appease the both of them.

Simon shrugged, meeting Harry's eyes once again, pretending he was feeling far more nonchalant about the suggestion than he actually was.

"I guess you'll have to make me your boyfriend then."

"Just fucking kiss already!" Came an aggressive shout from up ahead. When the two men turned, they found that the others had all stopped walking and had instead turned to watch them. For how long, they didn't know. (Ethan looked as impatient as he sounded.)

Harry smiled shyly at Simon, his demeanor softer now, still nervous (in a good way) but less anxious (in a bad way). "You heard him, Minter. You gonna kiss me now or what?"

Simon didn't reply verbally, instead leaning in for a chaste kiss, hyper aware that there were - at least - five other grown men watching this precious moment. When he pulled away, he placed a quick, sweet kiss to Harry's forehead, unable to stop his lips from lingering for a couple seconds.

"Come on, boyfriend," Harry said as he reached for Simon's hand, Simon intertwining their fingers instantly. "Let's go eat before Ethan threatens to chop our heads off. He's clearly hungry."

"Wait," Simon planted his feet against the ground, stopping Harry from moving forward just yet. "You're so pretty, Harry. I'm so lucky."

Harry's face reddened, his cheeks visibly pinker from the compliment. "I-"

"HURRY UP, losers!"