Frat boy Harry continued (Patreon)

You guys really liked frat boy Harry and someone requested that I write more of it so here it is!! :) 

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Harry has been consistent in trying to make everything up to her. 

Despite them having such a lovely time at the diner that night he’d taken her, she expected that this would be his last ditch attempt to rid his mind of any guilt he might feel. She figured that he’d dine with her, make everything gravy between the two of them, and the things would go on as normal, only this time with his knowledge that he’d been the first boy to be inside of her. Thought that as he paid the check, drove her home, and squeezed her knee tight as a goodbye, that this would be the last bit of time they’d spent together. 

She’d been completely wrong. 

The day after she had gotten a message from an unknown number while she was doing a mid-day soak in the bath since it was so dreary and rainy outside. Lavender scented bubbles dripped from her fingers, slid down her forearm when she reached over for her phone to read it.

Hey Y/N, this is Harry! Hope you don’t mind, but I got your number from Li. Are you free for coffee today?

Immense amounts of water sloshed out of the tub when she sat up, genuinely startled by his offer. She would question whether or not he meant to send it to her had it not been for how he sent her name, and her heart was hammering at the mere prospect of him wanting to go on something like a date with her. If she could call it that, that is, but what else would coffee on a rainy day be? Many things ran through her mind in those moments, wondering if maybe that had just been an addition concerning the guilt welding up inside of him for blowing her off all that time ago. 

However, these qualms are squashed when she responds with a sure and receives it’s a date then! in return.

He’d been so sweet, paid for her drink and a lemon cookie for her to eat while they talked. From how fucked classes have gotten this close to midterms to how his frat has been planning this huge fucking basher but Harry was more than uninterested considering the Monday afterwards he had a his Econ exam. Y/N offers him her place to study at if he needed it and he accepted it without much thought at all, smiling wide as he’d nodded, “You’re a life savior, y’know that?” 

That’d almost been too good to be true though, because as she’d laid down for  bed that night she’d let self-doubt get the best of her. She’d decided then that Harry was merely making it seem like he wasn’t just a one-off late night diner kind of guy, only so they couldn’t say he didn’t try. Then he could use the excuse that he gave it a good attempt but she was just too god awful to spend any more time around at all. She went to bed sad but she thought it was a practical way of thinking -- no way he’d be this interested in her, when he is -- well, Harry and she is Y/N.

But he continued to message her, and when he saw her around campus that week he went out of his way to go speak with her, and I always left with a shoulder squeeze or a big, mushy hug before going off to where he needed to be. And then, the night before he had said the party was, he asked if she was still willing to let him use her flat as a study den to which she had replied yes to, before immediately scurried around her place to deep clean it so that it was nice for his arrival (even though it hadn’t been that night, she liked to be prepared). 

So that’s how they ended up here, Y/N holding a flashcard that says Laffer Curve for the fifth time while Harry is pressed face down into her coffee table, having given up, “There’s no use,” his words are muffled by the crook of his elbow, “M’failing the bloody test, and that’s that.” He raises his head, frowning.

Y/N pouts at him, “C’mon you’ve got this, yeah? It’s a curved graph that illustrates the. . .” she prompts for him, wiggling the card in her hand. 

He mulls it over for a moment, “illustrated the theory that if tax rates rise beyond a certain level, they discourage economic growth, thereby reducing government revenues.” 

Clapping her hands together, she grins, “Yes! Fuck, you know what, you’re getting an A, I’m speaking it into the universe.” She reaches for the next flashcard but he snatches it from her hand, then pulls the group of them off of the table and tosses them loosely at his bag, “Hey--” Y/N begins but he cuts her off quick. 

“M’bored of learning, I think we should talk ‘bout other stuff now.” He scoots around the table so he’s in front of her, “Like, where you got those lovely black cat socks from for the holiday season.”

Furrowing her brows, she looks down at her feet and wiggles her toes beneath the socks, “Dunno, actually. Think Liam gave ‘em to me last year since I helped him get an A in microbiology. He buys me loads of stuff ‘cos I help him study -- calls me his good luck charm.” 

Bottom lip tugging from his mouth, Harry’s forehead crinkles, “No fair, I want you as me good luck charm too then. He’s always gettin’ good grades, I think his GPA is like a 2000.5 or somethin’.” 

“And your GPA will be 2000.5 or something if you keep studying,” she leans her elbows on the table, resting her face chin in her palm, “But I don’ blame you for not wanting to, Econ seems mind numbing.” Harry doesn’t respond but Y/N doesn’t think anything of it, presuming that he was just nodding. Though when she looks back up to him he’s keeping his gaze is set on her, eyes flickering around her face, and she feels her face warm up considerably when she realizes that he isn’t looking away, “Oi, stop that. If something’s on my face then jus’ tell me.” 

He shakes his head, gaze unwavering, “Nothing’s on your face. Just admiring you.” 

“Well stop it.” She responds immediately and he frowns.

“What do you mean stop it?” 

“I mean stop it. There’s nothin’ to admire anyways, I look like I clawed my way up from hell.” It was nothing short of the truth if you’d ask her -- Harry wasn’t the only person stressed from exams, and she had spent most of her day prior to him coming over, studying her bum off for two, while simultaneously writing a report about calcium deficiency, so her brain was fried. She knows it looks like she hasn’t slept in a milenia, and she can feel that her hair had begun falling from its bun. Mix all this with the disheartened spirit she could feel herself exuding, she knows for a fact that he’s just being cheeky. She’s not letting it work though.

Harry scoffs at her, circling around the table so he can get closer to her, “There’s plenty to admire actually. Your eyes are awful pretty, I think I could stare into them for about. . .the rest of me life, and your lips look jus’ as soft as I remember they felt.” He reaches forward, running a thumb over her eyebrow carefully and her eye beneath it winks shut, “Like your eyebrows too -- mighty nice.” 

“You just want your dick wet.” Y/N accuses him, as his fingers drop down, grazing her cheek for a moment before retreating, “I know your schtick, you’ve pulled it on me before.” 

Scrunching up his face, he shakes his head again, “As enticing as getting my dick wet by you again sounds, s’not what m’going for.” And before Y/N can ask him why, he gives her a soft, gentle little smile, “M’doing things right with y’a this time, Lovie. G’na make you swoon all proper for a good few weeks and if you like me enough by then, we’ll start throwing around a possible genital date. I’m sex-fasting for you.” 

“Sex-fasting!” Y/N repeats, throwing herself down onto her back, “You’re too much, y’know that? Saying all these romantic things then throwing in a genital date and sex-fasting --” 

“Sex-fasting is romantic,” he argues, crawling over to her so that he could plop back down on his bum and hover some, “Y’know what, m’gonna make even more romantic and wager that I won’t even so much as look at my prick unless I’m washing, so I’ll be nice and ready for you.” 

Y/N laughs, attempting to roll away from him but he catches her by the hip and rolls her back, “Noah Sparks better watch out, ‘cos I think you’re coming for his romance crown.” 

With a grin, Harry bursts into a giggle fit of his own. It feels nice, to be like this for a little while -- Harry is a whole lot of fun, and it still confuses her why he would want to waste an ounce of his time with her when he could have anyone he very well pleased to. Could charm the pants off the queen enough for her to hand him a fortune, Y/N’s sure of it.

As the laughter dies down, Harry pats at her thigh, before giving it a little squeeze, “M’serious though,” he notes, tone much less joking, “I want to do this right, this time. Know I can’t go back in time and make up for what I did, but I’ll do what I can to make it better.” 

Y/N sighs, pushing herself up with the flat of her palm so that she’s level with him again, “You’re too sweet on me, Harry. Don’t think m’worth it all that much.” 

“You’re more than worth it.” He responds immediately, looking not only disgruntled but offended that she would even suggest it, “Had a crush on you before we had sex, but I thought you just wanted to do a one-off thing. Had I known that it meant anything to you at all, then you wouldn’t have been able to get rid of me.” His face pinks up a bit as he continues and her heart hammers against her chest, “I’ve missed out on a year, so now m’making up for it.” 

Sometimes, Y/N can’t believe Harry is in a frat at all. When he opens his mouth and says something as sweet as that, she’s almost positive that he doesn’t belong in there. Sure, moments and vocabulary like sex-fasting might remind her that he’s getting drunk most Fridays and taking body shots off his mates, but then he looks at her like this; with his eyes all big and emanating warmth, that makes her all fond and soft. No wonder every ex he has, has nothing bad to say about him, nor are they ever completely over him after they’ve ended things -- he’s just too damn precious! Honestly, it was nearly making her head spin, how special he was as a person. 

Maybe that’s why she leans forward and kisses him. Maybe that’s why, when he gives a soft squeak against her mouth before melding his lips into her own, her stomach tickles with the fluttering wings of butterflies, heating her up all over. His hand lifted up to cup her face and she presses her cheek against the warmth of his palm, tempted to deepen the kiss even further, and taste inside of his mouth for the first time in a year, but she stops herself. He’d just gotten done telling her he wanted to take things slow and here she goes kissing him! 

So she parts quickly, “Sorry!” She exclaims, “Sorry, I just --”

“I didn’t mind it,” he hums, rounding to peck at her cheek, “Just given me a taste of what I’ve been missin’ yeah? If I’m good at charming ya, do I get more kisses?” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the smile splitting her cheeks remains. 

“Yes,” she scoots back to her seat, before reaching far over to his backpack and picking the flashcards back up, “And you’ll get even more then if you get an A on this exam, so come on.”

Harry groans. “Little devil.”