Gang Harry part 7 extended sneak peek :) (Patreon)

These cuties are just tooooo much! 

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vii.

“Holy fuck..” 

Y/N had been equal parts nervous and excited when Harry invited her to his flat, a mere four days after they returned from Sweden. In all their time together, and in what they had gone through in the past few months, Y/N had not even so much as been extended the offer to go to his flat, let alone actually be privy to it. To no fault of his own -- Y/N reckons that the last thing on his mind was a tour of his home when someone was threatening to rob their company blind and murder his boss -- but that never meant she wasn’t curious. 

She was excited because she thrived off visiting people’s places for the first time and learning what their decorating techniques consisted of. Ever since they’d started chatting past the nurse/family relationship, Y/N had been intrigued to know what his place looked like, and would even theorize about it sometimes if she had a moment to spare. Harry had very offhandedly mentioned that he had a Tanuki statue stationed to the right of his door as soon as you walked in, and Y/N (who also had a Tanuki statue) had her interest piqued immediately. Did she and Harry have similar decorating styles or just equivalent odd taste in staple items? Was that his only piece of decoration? 

Some boys she considered complete psychopaths and had barren walls besides maybe a flag or a singular sports poster -- that’s why she’s nervous. Hell, she’d love him all the same if he was repping a Manchester football poster but visiting his flat would be a bit of a struggle.  

So when he rolled up to the nurse’s station at 6 PM just before she gave report to night shift, a stolen pudding cup in hand and cheeks rosy from the cold chill of Gibby’s hospital room. Harry grins at her, “Let me drive you to my place, yeah? I’m making dinner tonight.” 

Her brows raise, a smile teases her mouth as she finishes writing down a cheat sheet for each room that she can give to the nurse coming in (she’s a bit new, and doesn’t know the flow of the floor very well yet, so Y/N tries to help when she can) “Yeah? Didn’t know you could cook.”

A gasp leaves him, “Oi, of course, I can cook! I could make a Sunday roast that would put any Nan on the block to shame.” 

“Better watch your mouth, Miss. Gregory has a keen sense of hearing and would beg to differ.” She clicks her pen shut, looking up to where he was leaning against the counter, “I’ll let you drive me, yeah, but can we stop by my place so I can grab Ubbe and a change of clothes? Reckon you don’t want the scent of hospital clouding your flat.” 

‘Yes we can stop to grab Ubbe, no you may not grab any clothes. Want you in mine.” 

Y/N pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, fixing a response for him in her head but Johnathan just about trips over himself with a convenience store cappuccino and a reusable grocery bag with his lunch, “I’m so sorry m’late, my bloody dog decided he was going to wee on my scrubs.” 

“Well, I hope you changed out of them.” Harry notes and Y/N snorts, rolling her eyes before she rolls her chair over to him and starts her shift report. 

Things had been calm since they returned from Sweden. Or as calm as they can be post-kidnapping, attempted murder, gang fiasco they had encountered there. When Y/N saw Gibson after it had happened, he pulled her into his body closely and squeezed her tight enough that she had a bit of trouble breathing. Y/N couldn’t lie, she was immensely happy to see him, and despite what she had learned about his relationship between him and his son, she let herself enjoy the cuddle.  Even the kiss that he pushed to her temple, before holding tight on her shoulders, “I am not a man who fears many things,” he had started slowly, “Nor am I a man who cares about many things, but you -- I care about you,” he cradles her cheeks in his palms, patting it gently, “I’m glad you’re safe.” 

Gibson -- just as Harry -- had a knack for making her feel like a very important addition to their lives. He was relieved to know that she would be his main nurse for the day, and Y/N it’s so he could keep an eye on her. She couldn’t fault him for it though because she beckons Harry around so that she can keep an eye on him. Niall doesn’t think anything is out of the ordinary regarding it since they usually traveled in something short of a pack. The only reference to the night before that he made (other than asking about her hand, which she had promptly explained that she drunkenly broke a vase and tried to clean it up with her hands) was squeezing her shoulders and uttering, “Champagne turns you into a lightweight, ey? Harry treat you right?” Harry smiled a bit to himself and Y/N cleared her throat, tucking the hair behind her ear. 

“Tucked me in, got me water, nursed my hangover, the whole nine.” 

Niall patted Harry on the shoulder, “Nice then, mate. Hear one thing about you hurtin’ her and I’ll have to do ya in.”

Harry pouted, “What’s with all the threats my way?”

The night before had felt surreal; a bad, hyper-realistic dream that stuck with her like syrup to a plate. There wasn’t much on the agenda for them since the wedding had passed so they all kind of lingered in Niall and Gibson’s room. They ordered room service, rented a horror film (Gibson was something short of a horror buff, it turned out), and relaxed for the first time in a very long time. It felt like everyone had collectively let out a sigh (apart from Niall, who remained blissfully unaware and fast asleep most of the day). 

Harry allowed the others to love upon her for a majority of the time they spent in Gibson’s room. She alternated from being close to where Gibson sat, to leaning against Mickey, and hell she even hung out with Niall a bit when he bothered to wake up. The only bits alone they had together were when she would take Ubbe out for a wee, which normally Mickey might want to accompany her during, but Harry was insistent that he be the one. Had practically pushed her over attempting to get up before Mickey could even think to say that he wanted to go, which he later apologized for. 

“I just. . .it won’t be like this for long, but I just -- I wanna be near you, y’know?” 

She did know -- because she didn’t want him out of her sight. The few moments that she had to spend, leaving him behind with someone who would ( (italicize this) did) harm him given the chance -- she couldn’t stand it. Could have crawled out of her skin even -- and she knows he must have felt the same, if not worse. Y/N was even more thankful now than ever that they were sharing a hotel room. 

Because by the end of the night, when Y/N gave Gibson his nighttime meds, tucked Niall in, and pecked a kiss to Mickey’s scruffy cheek -- they got to flee together. Popped open the door to their room, Ubbe ran in first and beat them to the bed, and Harry suggested a cheeky shower together which -- well, Y/N said if he didn’t mind her in a shower cap (she couldn’t be arsed to wash her hair) then they could go right ahead and do it. 

So they did, and Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever been this close with someone before. She helps him tie a plastic baggy over his thigh so that the bandage didn’t get wet before she changed it, and in turn he helped her tie her own around her hand, “It’s good that I’m here, hm? How else would you clean this arm if you didn’t have me?” 

“Niall is dexterous enough.” She teased him. 

“I can assure you that I’m far more adept with my fingers than Niall.” 

Nothing but bare, smooth skin that their hungry eyes drink each other in. Harry had a lot of tattoos and she can’t help but outline them with her gaze, though she does attempt not to let them wander too far downward -- she would feel bad to stare at his bits, even if he was getting a good look at hers. She did take a whack at his peachy bottom when he leaned over to turn the shower on, and he squeaked, putting his hand over it palm outward, “Aish, that hurt!” Y/N went for him again, a little harder on the other cheek until he straightened out and pivoted, looking at her with furrowed brows, “I’ll spank your bum, see how you like it.” 

(Y/N reckons she would like it.) 

The shower had been good; it was hot, steamy, and they hadn’t even done anything sexual. They just enjoyed one another, soaked in the hot pelts of water against their skin as they both took turns with who was in the direct line of the water. Harry cleaned her, made her all sudsy with strawberry-scented soap, and made her all bubbly before nudging her back into the water. He sang obnoxiously loud, ticked her when he could, and he did get her back with a few swats on her wet bum, leaving a resounding smack that bounced off the walls in an echo. She had fun, and when he bent down to slide their lips together for an innocent little peck, she was over the moon. 

It was just good to be with him, and she was happy that her feelings were finally able to be expressed. And he had almost immediately quelled her worries when she thought that maybe this was just a Sweden thing -- maybe they would go home, Harry would not feel the need to be around her constantly since the initial threat had been dealt with and he could go on about his normal life. When she really thought about it, she was sort of just a wrench in his normal plans -- an unnecessary addition and disruption, having accidentally gotten involved in their whole scenario. 

But almost as soon as they landed, an hour or two after they had all parted ways to unpack and destress, Harry rang her phone and when she answered she got a, “I don’t think m’quite ready to not be around you 24/7 -- can I come over?” 

With a grin that threatened to split her cheeks, she told him to hurry up.