Camping trip! (Patreon)

Sometimes you do things that you usually wouldn't do because of the person who asks you to. 

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i.

“You forgot what?” 

Y/N was not that much of an outdoorsy person. She could fake the funk like she was in order to avoid the real outdoorsy people’s disappointed glares and desperate attempts to convince her that they’re their happiest drenched in sweat, covered in bug bites, in an undisclosed location with a beaten dirt path -- but she wasn’t. That doesn’t mean she didn’t like picnics at the park, lush flower fields, pools, ponds and little things like that -- someone wouldn’t catch her suggesting a hike up a mountain on such a hot day that dogs barely want to be outside. 

So how did she end up camping? 

Because she was so good at pretending to be an outdoorsy person that she had managed to trick her friends into believing her, and when Harry says that she’s invited to come along with him and a few other of his mates on a weekend camping trip -- well, was she going to say no? At the time he’d brought it up, she had just finished telling him that she had shit all to do that weekend but take baths and exist. “You should come with us! Few of us goin’ camping, we could use another girl to counteract the testosterone.” 

And it was. . .it was just so hard to say no to Harry when he sounded so excited. Plus, when Harry invites you somewhere, you go -- fame or not, he just had that way about him. If he wanted to spend time with you, you jumped at the opportunity to because he could be spending his time with anyone. How Y/N looked at it, is he had Adele’s phone number just saved into his phone but he thought she might be a good time on a trip like this? How could she disagree to camp with the guy? 

“You’ve been camping before, right?” 

“Yeah, plenty.” 

By plenty, Y/N meant she went maybe once or twice when she was younger and hated it but Harry didn’t need to know that. He also didn’t need to know that she ran out at 7PM the night before in search for a tent that might be suitable to exist in for a weekend. This along with bug spray, a little fan, a mosquito net -- really anything the nice man at the store said was essential for a camping trip, she purchased it. What she lacked in her camping experience, she made up for in her more than incredible ability to pack many things in an essentially small space.

It’s why by the next morning, when Harry rolled in front of her building to pick her up, she didn't have to lug a whole ton of shit down to his car. Only a duffel and the packaging that the tent came in. 

“G’morning,” he pushed the sunglasses from in front of his eyes to nestle in his hair, that looked fluffy from a fresh wash, “The drive is a bit long, so I reckon we’ll pull ‘round and get some brekkie. Don’t let the others know, m’not lugging cold McDonalds for an hour.”

“Thank god, I can feel how hollow my stomach is,” she carded hair from her face, “S’on me though since you’re driving. I can’t promise that I won’t eat myself into a food coma.”

He scrunched his nose at her like a bunny, “You sure you want to pay? I might order the whole breakfast menu.”

“It’s sweet that you thought I wasn’t already planning on doing that.”

Y/N remembers the first time she had hung out with Harry alone, she thought it would be horrible. Not in the sense that he would be, but that she would be. Maybe without the comfort of their mutual friends she would get awkward? Quiet and uncomfortable? Make him feel so awkward himself that he never invites her to do anything with him again. They’d been at a party all standing in a circle talking to each other, when Zachary began teasing Y/N about her affinity for soap carving (and by affinity, he means that she likes to watch other people do it). She had been gearing up to throw at him that he cums in two minutes flat, but Harry’s brows raised and an elated gleam had danced into his eyes, “You like soap carving?” He grinned, “I’ve got a mate downtown who runs a class about it -- you should come with me, I told him I’d come do one.” 

Harry was an easy guy to get along with, but Y/N found herself wishing he was ugly. Or even just a little mean -- something that she could use as a reason why she shouldn’t unconsciously put him on a pedestal. Not just any pedestal though. . .one of those pedestals where she actually gets nervous to hang out with him before they actually meet up -- where she wonders if conversation would flow naturally or if her voice would tremble. She had no doubt he would be relaxed but how could she be? 

She successfully tripped and scraped her knee on the pavement which eased all tension or hopes of her being anything but herself, in her state of bloody knee duress. Y/N thinks she might have said every curse in the book but she was also laughing as tears beaded in her eyes, and Harry had attempted to be caring without a glimmer of a smile but he lets out a slew of giggles when she tells him, “It’s fine to laugh, I’m an idiot.” 

Things were easy after that -- smooth as melted chocolate, so she didn’t really get nervous when she was alone with him. They danced to his playlist after they both ordered and ate absolute trash as breakfast (it was quick though and Harry loved himself a parfait), Y/N realized that the longer she was awake, the less she felt like she needed to have a nap, so she was up and ready. Harry matched her talkativeness well and they overlapped in interests enough that they could talk for hours about just that thing. 

At the start of the morning he had the windows down a bit, but as the sun beat down harder on the car he eventually rolled them up and kicked the air conditioner on. It blasted her face, pimpled her skin with goosebumps, but ultimately it was much better than baking how she did in her own beat up vehicle (her air conditioner hadn’t worked since ‘97, when the last owner first had it -- at least that’s what it said on the craigslist ad). She keeps this little anecdote to herself though, because she doesn’t want him to think that she’s giving him a sob story so that he’ll buy her a car. . .she’s always careful with stuff like that. Never wants to make him feel like she’s expecting something from him. 

By the time they’ve turned into the beaten, worn down dirt path, Y/N had effectively forgotten what they were doing. It was a slap in the face when she realized that not only was she leaving the sanctity of his cooled car, but she would be boiling beneath the sun’s rays as she built up her tent. They were the first ones to get there, which meant they got first dibs on where they would be putting their tents and Y/N was stoked about that bit. 

As more people came, the sun rose higher before it began to sink, Y/N made her peace with the fact that the likelihood of her getting a mosquito bite on her arse was high but expected. She could deal with that though, just how she could deal with the sweltering hot sun, and how she could deal with the possibility of a bear just stumbling onto their campsite and stealing their bread. She reckons camping isn’t so bad when it isn’t forced and with family -- it’s actually kind of fun even, just to pretend that nothing outside of their campsite exists for a little while. It was good to be with her friends, good to drink a bit, good to try her hand in fishing before feeling guilty about actually catching a fish and withdrawing her pole. They were nearby a dock, so Y/N and Christy (they met at a party their first year of college - she taught Y/N how to do a body shot and then cried into her lap about the boy she was seeing was an actual prick) stuck their feet in to wave back and forth, which prompted a few of the others (Harry included) to just cut out the middleman and jump right on into the lake (she struggled to keep her eyes to herself, because Harry looked way to good without a shirt on and she would have to keep from noticeably drooling over it). . 

Everything was going just fine -- nobody has suggested any mention of a hike like she’d been dreading -- but there was a whole lot of day drinking. Y/N had thrown back a beer or two before deciding that drinking during a day as hot as this one would put her in a hospital, so she switched to water until around six-ish in the evening, when she dabbled in hard lemonades. Their friend Adam had been avidly drinking since two, which led to something short of a dance number, which then led to him not only falling into her tent, but dragging it against a tree in his descent downward and tearing a nasty gash into the side of it. Which Y/N had not prepared for in the slightest, and her mouth had fallen open. Before she could so much as think about what to do, Chrissy had removed her hand from where it had clapped over her mouth, “You can share with me and Jeff.” 

“Chrissy, I love you, but I also refuse to wake up in the middle of the night to you two fucking,” she stepped towards her tent and the groaning Adam with a sigh, looping her fingers around his wrist and heaving him upward -- he was lucky she brought a first aid kit, but he was not so lucky that she was tipsy and not as strong as she could be to support his body mass, “I can always just take my chances in the car, if Harry will let me.” 

“You can just sleep in my tent,” Harry offered, though his voice nearly made her jump out of her skin when she realized that he had been on the other side of the tent -- he laughed when she startled and placed his hand on her lower back, helping her shift some of Adam’s weight from her body, “S’more than big enough for two sleeping bags.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.” 

Harry rumples his lips, on the side of drunk himself, so his cheeks are flushed, “When have you ever been a bother, babe -- c’mon, le’s have a look at him, he might have sprained his ankle on that last pirouette.” 

That was the end of the discussion. Once everyone settled and got tired while the night grew cold, they all retreated to their tents, Y/N following Harry into his massive one. It was one of those types where it could probably comfortably fit five people, so it was spacious, partially clear apart from Harry’s own duffel bag and his sleeping bag. 

His sleeping bag. 

Sleeping bag. 

Oh for fuck sake. 

“Oh no,” she pushes her hand to her forehead, “I forgot a sleeping bag.” 

She could hear him pause momentarily from where he’d begun shuffling through his bag. 

“You forgot what?” 

Of all the things she brought, how could she forget a fucking sleeping bag! That might just be the bare minimum of things that she could have brought was something to sleep in. She just completely skipped over it -- and it would be easier to stomach if she had bought one and just forgot it but no. . .no, she literally just didn’t purchase one. 

“It’s fine -- it’s okay, I can -- I think I brought an extra blanket, I can just flatten that out.” 

“How did you forget a sleeping bag?” He said through a giggle and Y/N pouts, her hand slides from her face with a huff. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” she whines, “‘cos I’m an idiot, tha’s why. Aish -- how did I do this?” 

Y/N wonders if Harry could tell that she was about to cry. Maybe she was drunker than she thought -- normally she wasn’t so free, and willy nilly with her emotions, but she was tired, and her expensive tent was ruined, and she didn’t bring a fucking sleeping bag! Harry, in his own drunken stir, stumbles from his squatted position, “Hey, hey, s’okay! C’mon --” his hands meet her shoulders, giving her a squeeze, “You can jus’ -- my sleeping bag is pretty big, we can just share it, yeah? If you’re comfortable, or you could have mine and I can use the extra blanket.” 

“No, no we -- you don’t mind if we share? I’m already mooching so much --” 

“Mooching what? A place to sleep, don’t be silly. I’m gonna get some not wet underwear on and we’ll have a good rest, and in the morning we’ll see about getting you a sleeping bag, okay? Everything's A-Okay.” 

Y/N nods, and they do just that. Harry gets himself into dry clothes, Y/N wriggles out of her clothes from the day in favor of sweatpants and a soft, cotton Duke tee that she doesn’t know where she had obtained it. Harry positions himself in his sleeping bag first, snuggling himself close up to the outer edge, a smile on his face as he holds in his giggles -- it was an odd situation, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh a bit too, “Come on in then,” he waves his hand over and Y/N lowers down and squeezes herself beside him.

It’s warm. . .their body heat is trapped beneath the down material, the chilled night combatted. Y/N shivers once as she gets comfortable, turning her head to the side to look at him and she finds that he’s already looking at her. She laughs a little and he matches it, “Thank you. Sorry I’m a dummy.” 

“Not a dummy,” he lets his eyes flutter shut, “How d’ya forget a sleeping bag?” He sighs out one more time before he snuggles deeper -- their arms are touching, their hips are connected, their legs even overlap a bit. It feels too. . .normal. It feels very normal, but her heart is racing when she thinks too deeply about it. They’re so close, and he’s so warm -- Y/N could melt, she thinks. She doesn’t want to get a new sleeping bag if it meant that they could be this close this weekend. She thinks completely sober her would think so as well, “You’re warm,” Harry murmurs, snuggling a bit closer -- he’d always been touchy feely, so she didn’t think anything of it, only soaked in the glow, “Like a heater -- should bring you ‘round when we winter camp.” 

“Can I be honest with you, Harry?” He hums in response, “I’ve only been camping like. . .twice before, and I didn’t like it.” 

Harry hums again, “I know.” 

“What?” Her brows furrow and he nods, his eyes flicker back open, and she’s staring into two, sleepy pools of green. 

“You never really struck me as someone who likes this sort of thing at all. . .reckon once Griff was talkin’ about his runner’s high during a hiking trip and you rolled your eyes so hard that it hurt your own head.” She snorts, remembering distinctly that she had hurt her own head, having raised her hand to hold her forehead afterward, “And when you were showing me the video of the ostrich, you were typing it in and your search history came up -- had ‘how to set up a tent’ about three different times. It’s okay though.” 

She was glad that it was known, but also she was a bit confused. Her brows deepen, and she scratches her thigh, her knuckles bumping into him, “If you knew I didn’t like this sort of thing, then why’d you invite me? I mean I’m happy to be here, and I’m glad to be with you lot, I just am curious.” 

Harry’s eyes are closed again, his breathing evened out and gentle. 

“Wanted to spend more time with you.”