Work Text:
9:34 PM
Click…clack…click…click.
Clack.
Click. Click. Click
Harkness sits hunched over his desk, typing away on his dingy, grey, school-issued laptop. It's been through hell and back at this point. With it being held together by duct tape, a shit ton of stickers, and some hot glue around the edges. His capslock key has been broken for nearly a week already and he has to jam it at least three times for it to work.
Laptops are expensive and Harkness doesn’t have the heart to ask the school for a new replacement. They might make him pay considering he’s broken two already. God forbid he leaves his laptop unattended in a class. He was only gone for six minutes! He can make it to the end of the year, all things considered it hasn’t completely died on him. No explosions or smoke, so he’s in the clear for now.
Harkness squints, eyes reddened by the bright screen that is being projected directly into his pupils. He strains to see the words on the screen, they blend together and form jumbled phrases. Being barely halfway finished with this stupid paper has him anxious. He has been so busy and caught up on the yearbook preparations that he forgot he even had classes or homework.
Harkness sighs. Then takes off his glasses and places them down on his wooden desk. He rubs his eyes like it will magically rejuvenate them, rubs them so hard that he sees blinding shapes behind his eyelids, melting together like a kaleidoscope. He’s putting his glasses back on the bridge of his nose when he hears the very familiar rhythmic ring of his phone. It vibrates like the humming of a bee and startles him a bit.
He wonders who could be calling him at this time. Barkovitch, maybe. He did offer to take photos for the yearbook but Harkness isn’t expecting them until next week. Harkness accepts without looking at the caller and presses the phone to his ear and waits. The cool glass screen singes his skin and he shivers a bit.
What he hears from the other end is…concerning. Heavy breathing, like horror movie level heavy breathing. Like “serial killer hiding under your bed” type of breathing. Should Harkness be worried? He gives his room a quick look around, just to be sure there aren’t any visitors.
Is this a prank? Who the hell would be calling him now of all times?
“Uhm…hello?” He cautiously asks, voice cracking towards the end.
The breathing continues.
Harkness is about to check the caller ID. He swears he’s going to block this freak permanently. Forever. Infinitely, an eternity, however long it takes.
“Harkness?” The voice asks, all muffled-like as if they’re under a mountain of pillows.
“Yes, this is Harkness. Wait—“ Harkness recognizes that voice.
Would recognize it anywhere. Because it’s so unique. Not for any other particular reason. Let’s move on.
“Stebbins?” He questions.
A cough hacks out from the phone’s speakers, then crackles down to silence.
“Yes.” The voice responds.
Relief overcomes Harkness, his heart simmers down only to speed up again.
“You had me worried, Stebbins! I was really expecting the worst. I mean, it’s pretty late and—“
“Harkness.” Stebbins interrupts, voice stone cold and serious.
“Yes?” Harkness replies, offset by his tone.
“I need a favour.” He asks.
“Yes?”
“Sick.” Stebbins very vaguely says.
“So you need medicine, or— I’m confused, what is it that you need?”
Stebbins hangs up right after. The line dies out abruptly and leaves Harkness in relative silence.
Huh.
A message pops up at the top of his screen. A possible explanation for Stebbins' crypticness? No. An address, Stebbins’ address he presumes. Is he asking him to come over?
Harkness sits there for a while, just staring at the message. He spins around in his chair, the wheels rotate and swivel. They leave crop circles on the carpet, ruffled waves of fur. His ceiling is littered with cheap glow in the dark stars, they don’t shine anymore and some of them have fallen off. He looks at the time in the corner of his phone.
9:41, that's the current time.
He spins some more and contemplates for a while. Then looks back at his laptop. It sits at his desk. The dash line keeps blinking at him, threatening him to write more. He really needs to get this paper done and it’s getting dangerously close to midnight. He’d rather finish up and get to bed, after all tomorrow's a Saturday.
Ding!
Another message from Stebbins.
> now
Like right now? Can’t Harkness just do this later? This essay is due soon. Doesn’t Stebbins have someone else that can do this? I mean, sure, Stebbins can be a loner from time to time but surely he has friends. Right?
> right now
He stares at his phone, dumbfounded. He’s starting to worry that Stebbins can really hear him. Maybe he should check under his bed this time, just to be extra sure.
Stebbins did sound different than usual, something about his voice was off and him calling this late might be a sign that he isn’t doing so great. So, maybe he is in a lot of pain, an excruciating amount if he chose to seek Harkness of all people.
Harkness shifts in his chair and debates for a while whether or not to go, before ultimately closing his laptop. It snaps closed rather slowly, the hinges don’t work very well. He really needs a replacement asap.
He knows that there’s a pharmacy on the other side of town. Far from his house but still within reach. If he goes now he’ll be able to come back before eleven and he might have enough time to finish writing his essay. Harkness has got this! It’s just a quick journey, he’ll be back before he knows it!
Harkness scrounges around his room for his shoes and all the necessary supplies. A typical pair of converse that he’s had for at least a year are first on his list. And that head lamp he bought last year for Halloween, as per his mom’s worries. He finds his backpack and shoves his laptop in there. He even makes sure to check under his bed and finds a spare ten dollar bill. Maybe he should clean his room more often.
And he doesn’t find Stebbins under his bed, thankfully.
He slips on his shoes and double knots them, just to be sure. He finds a spare hoodie lying around and puts it on. He’s all readied up by the time the clock strikes 9:52. Harkness flicks the light switch off. His room is engulfed in darkness in an instant, save for the stars on his ceiling.
He tries to close the door slowly by pressing his body flush to the door. He manages to pull it closed with a simple thud. He listens for a beat, for the tell tale sound of his parent’s footsteps but nothing comes. Not a sound.
He tiptoes around, avoiding the random toys littered in front of his door, and reaches the stairs. Harkness knows that there are specifically four or so steps that creak loudly. He just doesn’t know which ones. He could just run out really fast, make a lot of noise, and then suffer the consequences. That’s a stupid idea. So Harkness chooses a more quiet approach.
Harkness grips the hand railing with both his hands. He tries really hard to stick to the edge of the steps in an attempt to avoid any creaking. If he closes his eyes it's almost like he’s on the edge of a steep cliff. Against all odds he gets down to the first floor with relative ease and without alerting anyone.
He slips out the back door and makes his way to the garage for his bike. A bit dated but still capable. It’s a rusty red color and the bell broke a while ago. He slips on his head lamp, clicks it on so that it shines out in front of him. Harkness hops on his bicycle and peddles down the road.
He peddles for a while, can feel sweat pooling at his hairline and on his back. Its been an eerily quiet night, not a single bark or a stray car’s alarm has introduced itself to him. He has cycled himself into another neighborhood when he comes across a worrisome scene.
Someone is climbing a tree. Well, climbing is a generous word. They’re trying to get into an open window but they seem to be struggling a bit. Harkness worries that he might be witnessing a robbery. That is, until he sees an outstretched hand trying to pull the climbing figure up.
Should he say something? Quite the Romeo and Juliet esq scene he's come across. His lamp shines on the scene, like an at home theatre production. Shoot, Harkness forgot he had a lamp. A face stares back at him with surprise. A familiar one at that.
Peter McVries! He knows him!
But, uh what exactly is he doing?
Another head pokes out. This time from the window.
Ray Garrety! Ok, that explains everything.
He waves at them meekly, unsure of what to do. Some idea seems to cross over Pete’s face because he motions him over fervently. Harkness complies and drops his bike down on the sidewalk.
“Harkness! That you down there!?” Pete whisper-shouts at him.
Harkness gives him two enthusiastic thumbs ups.
“Think you can get me something?”
“Depends on what you need.”
“A ladder would be good!” Ray interrupts.
“Yep.” Pete seconds with a huff. He seems to be gripping onto that tree for dear life. He kind of looks like a koala.
“You want me to find a ladder? Where am I going to find one?”
“I think there’s one in the backyard, my dad was working on the house earlier.” Ray suggests.
“I’m really busy though…” Harkness complains.
“Busy with what!? C’mon Harkness, we’ll owe ya.” Pete tries to convince him.
“Fine! Just uhm give me a second will ya!”
“Don’t know if we have a second.” Ray jokes with a light chuckle.
“That ain’t funny Ray, I go through all this trouble to be romantic and this is what I get in return.” Pete complains without any real malice.
Harkness looks around Ray’s backyard. He has to angle his head in all sorts of directions to find what he’s looking for. But he does find it near the back of the house, a well worn ladder is resting on the side of a dismal shed. He grabs it and drags it over to the tree with some struggle. He props it against the tree, right below McVries. Pete climbs down with just a slight stumble.
Pete’s feet hit the grass firmly and then he turns towards Harkness and grabs him by the shoulders. He looks him in the eyes with an earnest look.
“Thank you, Harkness. I owe you. Truly.”
“That was nothing but what exactly is going on here?” Harkness asks.
“Pete over here told me that he was coming over. Seems he forgot to mention the how.”
“How long have you guys been out here?”
“Longer than I’m willing to admit.” Pete answers.
Harkness’ phone rings in his backpack. He holds up a finger, motioning Pete to wait for a bit. He shoves his hand into his backpack and finds his phone. The screen shows Stebbins’ number. I mean, at least it isn’t his parents?
He presses the phone to his ear and gulps.
“Hiya, Stebbins!”
“Hurry.” His voice says before cutting out.
Oh, right. The sick thing.
“I gotta go! But it was nice talking to you guys!” He quickly excuses himself with a wave.
Garretty and McVries wave back at him as he leaves.
“Good luck Harkness!” They both dismiss.
Harkness checks his phone as he gets back on his bike.
10:19
Time sure is moving fast. Harkness pockets his phone and continues biking. He has biked a couple more miles by now. His legs are starting to hurt and he keeps worrying that he’a going to get run over by a truck. Or by a motorcycle. Or a wagon. You can never be too safe on the road.
He is exactly a block away from the pharmacy, pedaling at full speed with just one goal in mind. Getting into that pharmacy and coming back home as soon as possible. That goal comes crashing down both physically and figuratively when he sees a dark figure ahead of him, obscured by the night. He accidentally runs full force into someone. His feet can’t stop pedaling fast enough and he can’t warn them with his bell.
Dang it.
With a crash like lighting, the both of them go tumbling down onto the asphalt. Harkness’ foot gets stuck in the pedal and he falls face first to the ground. He feels woozy for a second, likely from the adrenaline leaving his body. Harkness separates from his bike and goes to stand.
“Fuckin’ asshole, watch were you’re going!” Shouts the very familiar voice of Collie Parker.
“Shit! Sorry Parker!” He apologizes profusely, moving to help him up.
Parker bats away his hand and dusts himself off, standing without his help.
“Harkness? What the hell are you doing out here?” Parker accuses, rightfully so, given that he ran him over mere seconds ago.
“I’m going shopping.”
“It’s almost midnight.”
“Well, my momma is feeling a little sick, I’m just helping her out.”
Harkness isn’t sure why he lies. Parker eyes him suspiciously but lets it go. Eyes him like he knows something.
“I should be asking you the same question. Seems I’m running into a lot of people.” Harkness laughs awkwardly, trying to ease the tension.
“I was hungry. Went to buy something before you ran me over like a goddam fuckin’ maniac.” Collie clarifies.
“Oh.”
“Oh.” Parker parrots, evidently annoyed.
“I’ll make it up to you, seeing as I’m buying something already!”
“Fine by me.” Parker agrees and leads the way to a nearby store.
Harkness grabs his bike by the handlebars and follows along. Thankfully, his bike is undamaged and only lightly scuffed. His face burns a little from the fall. Maybe he should have brought his helmet.
There is a convenience store open in the corner of the street, just across the pharmacy. It has bright neon fluorescent lights and an “open 24/7 sign” is hanging besides the door. Harkness sets his bike outside and puts away his head lamp before entering.
The store is surprisingly cold, the air conditioning is blaring at full power from above. His body shivers at the sudden change in temperature. He looks around at the random junk food littered on the shelves.
Maybe he should get Stebbins something. He doesn’t really know what Stebbins likes, he always goes off on his own during lunch. He eyes the shelves, weaving in and out of the rows until he comes face to face with the pastries section.
Jelly donuts. Stebbins might like them. He grabs them off the shelf and finds Collie already waiting for him at the cash register with a sour look on his face. That look on his face confuses him, until he turns to look at their cashier, the one and only Gary Barkovitch.
Harkness approaches them and can hear Barkovitch conversing with Parker.
“What are you guys doing? Didn’t realize there was a party.” Barkovitch asks when he notices Harkness.
Collie just sighs.
“We just happened to meet. Accidently ran him over.” Harkness laughs as he sets the jelly donuts on the counter.
Collie sets down his own stuff. An Arizona ice tea and a bag of chips. Barovitch scans the items and packages them in seperate bags.
“Y’know if you guys ever want to hang out, I’d uhh like to join y’all.”
“Never in a million years.”
“No one ever invites me to stuff, I’m trying to be nice here. Collie, please.”
“Asking is only making it worse. You gotta lotta nerve asking after what happened with Rank.”
“That shit wasn’t my fault and you know it! I apologized. See, me and Rank are just dandy and all that shit is over now.”
“Yeah, sure. Didn’t he have to get stitches—“
“That’s a fuckin lie! It was a single stitch! Harkness, c’mon back me. I promised to take those pictures. Didn’t I?” Barkovitch tries to get him to agree.
“I mean, it was a single stitch but it still looked pretty bad.” Harkness tries to placate them both.
“Nice try dipshit, just cause you’ve got Harkness on your side doesn’t mean anything—“
Collie and Barkovitch continue to bicker amongst each other and Harkness takes this as an opportunity to leave, but not before leaving a ten dollar bill on the counter. He’a on a tight schedule but he did promise to pay.
He rushes out and checks his phone only to find that it’s 10:50 already. He’s running out of time.
He quickly runs over to the pharmacy, thankful that there are no cars out and about. Getting run over doesn’t sound very fun. He enters and makes a beeline for the cough medicine. Actually, he doesn’t know what Stebbins has come down with. He should probably ask.
> what medicine?
> head ache
> a cold
Okay, so cold medicine. That seems easy enough. There are a lot of brands. What would be best? His eyes find the flashiest bottle.
GUARANTEED RECOVERY. LASTS 24 HOURS.
The bottle reads in bright red letters. For some reason the packaging is a mix of green, purple, and brown? I mean, it doesn’t get any better than that, right? He grabs it off the shelf and hurries to pay. He's in line behind an old lady. Harkness can’t help but find her oddly familiar. Her eyes and her posture all remind him of a certain someone.
He ponders for a while. When Art Baker cuts in line, he remembers why her face is so familiar.
“Harkness!” Baker exclaims in surprise when he notices him.
“Hiya, Art!” He responds with a small wave.
Art eyes the medicine in his hands.
“You know they won’t let you buy it without an ID right?”
“What. Really?” Harkness stops.
Shit, he didn’t think about that. Oh god, he really came all this way without using his brain. And he doesn’t even have money, he spent it all earlier! Harkness feels like dying right where he stands. He’d let the Earth swallow him whole. If he were any less composed, he’d fall to his knees and ball out crying. He thinks that he just might, in the next five seconds to be exact.
Art notices his shift in behavior, the way Harkness’ smile turns into a frown. He grabs the medicine from Harkness’ hands, gently, like he worries Harkness might break. Truly, Art Baker is a saint because the next words that come from his mouth are enough to make Harkness cry tears of joy.
“My grandma can pay for it, don’t worry.”
Harkness practically jumps on Art. With the way he’s hugging him, someone would think that Art Baker himself saved Harkness from imminent death.
“You good Harkness?” Art’s gentle voice asks, as he lightly pats his back.
“THANK YOU ART!” He cries into Art’s shoulder.
Art’s grandma bristles slightly and looks at them. Her eyes don’t carry any judgement, she only smiles and laughs to herself. The pharmacist, on the other hand, is judging him.
“I’ve biked all the way from the other side of town and I swear if I came all this way for nothing!” He hugs Art tighter before letting go.
Art’s grandma pays for the medicine, and some of her own. Art hands him the cold medicine.
“Who might this be for?” Baker asks.
“For my mom?” Harkness responds.
Art just raises an eyebrow, laughs to himself, and says goodbye as he helps his grandma into the passenger seat. Art and his grandmother drive off soon after.
With the medicine in his hands, Harkness is ecstatic. He rushes back to his bike, only to find it missing.
Wait what.
He looks left, right, center, up, down, sideways even and yet there is nothing.
“Yo Harkness! Over here!” Calls out Hank Olson.
He turns to look at Olson and there he is. Holding his bike without a care in the world.
“Olson?”
“Yeah it’s me, in the flesh. But I gotta ask you, can I borrow this real quick?”
“Huh?”
“Can I borrow this, because—“
“I heard you the first time, no way!”
“Harkness—“
“No! I really need it right now, you don’t understand how long I’ve been out here. My fingers are freezing off and my legs hurt! And Stebbins—“
“Hear me out first!” Olson interupts.
“I was walkin’, happen to come across Collie and he tells me this bike is yours.”
“And what do you know, Clementine asked me to come over because she wanted to go stargazing on her roof.”
“Harkness you have to understand, I need to be there right fucking now!” Olson emphasizes as he grips the handlebars tight.
Harkness stares at him plainly. Does no one own a car!? Is everyone incapable of handling their own issues!?
Olson stares back at him. If Olson was capable of doing puppy dog eyes, he would. Hank Olson is a notorious sap for Clementine. And he knows from a certain someone, Clementine herself, that she’s also real sweet on him. Clementine would never forgive him.
“Fine, but—“
“Thank fucking god, Harkness you’re a saint.” Olson hops onto the bike and rushes off.
“Hey, wait!” Harkness calls out, having been interrupted mid sentence.
“A saint, Harkness! You hear me!” Olson’s voice dies out in the night.
Harkness takes back every good thing he has ever said about Hank Olson. Hank is already far away, he must be biking like his life depends on it.
He puts his lamp back on. Flicks it on and walks. The lamp’s light has dimmed drastically and he can only somewhat make out the road in front of him. He should’ve packed an extra battery. Stebbins’ address is a bit far. He lives in the nicer part of town from the looks of it.
Another journey, this time on foot. Oh great. Harkness wishes he had his journal with him, then at least he’d have something to do, something enjoyable. His phone rings in his back pocket. He fishes it out and answers.
“Hello, yes…I’m on my way.” He answers, annoyed and aggravated.
“You better be. I can not believe you would leave in the middle of the night. And what’s with that tone!?” The voice blares out.
His mother’s voice. Oh, shit. Oh, shit!
“Mom!?”
“Who did you think it was!? Richard Harkness, where are you, you better come home right now or I swear—.”
He hangs up and regrets it as soon as he does. He paces around for a while before deciding to dial Stebbins’ number but Stebbins doesn’t answer. His mom starts calling him a lot a lot, repeatedly, so he silences his phone and continues on. Just thinking about facing his mom causes his face to pale.
He walks for a long time, to the point where the soles of his feet ache and the night chill seeps further into his bones. He shivers and hugs himself tighter, right about now he's wishing he had put on a thicker sweater. And his lamp died, so now he has to rely on the spotty streetlamps to make his way.
This is how people get kidnapped, Harkness thinks.
Stebbins’ house greets him. A big, lavish, two story, light blue home with white picket fences and an impeccable lawn. The sidewalk is also impeccable, it isn’t cracked or overgrown, it's neat and kept. This neighborhood screams rich. Generational wealth rich.
What really catches his eye is the big tree that hangs by the house. Well groomed and overarching, almost as big as a willow tree. He spots Stebbins’ head peeking out from the window. Well, not peeking, more like leaning. Stebbins must’ve been waiting for him to approach.
Harkness waves rapidly. Stebbins looks at him and offers a weak wave with his hand. He runs across the lawn, to just below Stebbins’ window.
“Hi.” He whispers, cupping his hands around his mouth to carry out his voice.
Stebbins looks at him and points towards the tree with a bored expression.
Does he want him to climb it…that's a joke. It must be.
He grabs the medicine and waves it around like a flag, then points towards the entrance of the house.
“Uhh, the door?” He asks.
Stebbins nods his head in disagreement and mouths something about his parents being asleep. Harkness stares him dead in the eyes. The things Harkness does for love. Or uhm, for his friends!
Climbing a tree is easy. Pete did it. But then he got stuck. Harkness bites his lip in worry. He can do this, Pete’s a heavier guy, and Ray’s tree was definetly on the thinner side. He can do this! He can so do this!
He tightens the straps on his backpack and secures everything in there, phone and medicine and laptop. He zips it up tightly and prepares the climb.
The first couple minutes aren’t bad, he’s able to climb with relative ease. It isn’t until he reaches the middle of the tree that he worries. For one, he can barely make out the shape of the tree. And second, he’s starting to think that he’s afraid of heights. His hands are gripping the tree so tightly that he might rip the bark off the tree and plummet to his death.
He tries to control his breathing but the cold air isn’t helping one bit. His forehead is pressed to the tree and he swears that if he falls and dies he’s going to haunt Stebbins for an eternity. Stebbins turns on the lamp in his room and it emits a subtle glow. That subtle glow allows him to faintly see the outline of the tree.
That helps a bit. The light makes it possible for him to grip one of the thicker branches. He hoists himself up onto a particularly big branch with enough room to sit on. He straddles it and breathes out a sigh of relief. His palms are pressing into the branch just in case the wind tries to push him off.
He’s sorta level with Stebbins now, can see him in better detail. Stebbins, with his blonde messy hair and his deep blue eyes. And his red nose and his half-lidded eyes and his very sweat ridden face. Stebbins is definitely sick, oh god.
He tries his best to scoot closer to the window, taking great care not to fall over. He makes it pretty close and if he tries he can possibly jump into the house. Not that he’d try, that’s a really dumb idea.
Stebbins, in all his glory, bestows upon him some very devastating news.
“Jump.” He tells him.
Harkness suspects that this has all been an elaborate scheme to murder him. This is how murderers attack, they always get the most vulnerable and nice people.
“What? No way!” He counters, crossing his hands into a big x.
Stebbins offers his hand like it’ll help at all. And he’s wearing that shit eating grin on his face. Harkness has gotten this far. He’s willing to take the risk.
He tries to stand and balance himself on the branch. Harkness’ foot nearly slips out from under him when he tries to adjust himself but he manages to grip a branch above him. If he’s going to jump he can’t hesitate. He can do this, Harkness hypes himself up.
Harkness jumps. As soon as he does he thinks that he can very much NOT do this. He manages to reach the window, mostly. His upper half reaches and he's hanging on for dear life. He yelps and grips the window tighter and tries to pull himself up. But his legs kick wildly and can’t find anything to support him from under.
Stebbins, at the very least, still has the sense to help him up. He grips Harkness by the arms and pulls him in. Harkness makes it inside, but both of them go tumbling down to the floor with a loud thud. Stebbins groans in pain below him.
“Sorry!” Harkness apologizes, when really it should be Stebbins considering all that he has put him through.
“I’m fine.” Stebbins assures.
Harkness moves off of Stebbins and goes to sit on the floor. He opens his backpack, grabs the medicine, and hands it to Stebbins. Stebbins takes it, opens up the box and breaks the cap off the bottle. He looks at it suspiciously, almost like he doesn’t want to drink it. Eventually he chugs it, like almost all of it. That's definitely not the recommended dosage.
Then they just sit there for a while. In awkward companionable silence. Harkness looks around the room to distract himself. There isn’t much, it’s very plain. There are books and a couple of records around, but otherwise it’s very bare. Harkness clears his throat.
“Thanks for coming all this way.” Is all Stebbins answers.
Harkness would be compelled to just say “no problem” or “it was nothing”, but really it has been a problem. It's nearly midnight, he wants to go to bed, his feet hurt, he’s cold and tired, and everyone seems to run into him despite it being almost midnight. Harkness is not thankful at all for anything. His mom is going to ground him and he hasn’t even finished his essay which is due in like half an hour or less now.
Stebbins chuckles. He laughs. Harkness could get used to that sound. Stebbins tries to stifle it by pretending to cough but Harkness catches it in time.
Why is Stebbins laughing? He said all of that out loud didn’t he.
“Sorry.” Stebbins apologizes.
“What I meant was—“ Harkness tries to explain himself.
But it's futile, he isn’t sure what to say in his own defense. So he says nothing, stops himself from digging a deeper grave.
“It’s late.” Stebbins begins with.
“It is.”
“You should stay.”
“Me?”
“If you die out there, they’ll blame me.”
Wow, ok.
“If it isn’t any trouble…”
“Not any more than you’ve gone through.”
“Okay then.”
It amuses Stebbins, he can see the mild smile it gives him. Harkness just sits on the floor. Hands fidgeting with the loose threads on the carpet. If he tries to go home now, it’ll take him longer because his bike is missing. And then his mom is waiting for him at home and she without a doubt has definitely woken up his dad. Staying is his best choice.
Stebbins stands up and goes to sit at his bed. It seems that Harkness is sleeping on the floor tonight. He takes off his backpack and leaves it by the window. He suddenly remembers the donuts he bought and takes them out. A gentle force hits the back of his head and he turns. A pillow sits behind him.
He grabs it. At least he has a pillow to rest his head on for the night. But no blanket.
“The bed.”
“What about it?”
“Get in.”
Oh. Harkness grabs the jelly donuts and then picks the pillow off the floor. He sits on the other side of Stebbins’ bed and kicks off his shoes. He takes off his hoodie and leaves it by his shoes. The jelly donut is laid on the night stand. Harkness is unsure if he should offer them now or later. They’re both sitting on the bed now, just staring forward at nothing. God, this is so awkward. Maybe he should excuse himself and climb back down the tree. He turns to Stebbins, to say something and maybe offer him the donut.
Only to find that Stebbins is already looking at him. And I mean really looking at him. His eyes aren’t unfocused anymore. His face has settled into a more even complexion and he seems fine enough. The medicine must’ve worked wonders because Stebbins is staring at him like a hawk.
“Stebbins, I gotta go—“
“I lied.”
“About what?”
“Being indisposed, I wasn’t sick when I called you, not with the type of sickness you thought I had.”
“The what sickness was it?” Harkness questions.
“Everytime I see you, I get sick or something. I burn up and then I can’t think about anything else. It drives me insane.” Stebbins pauses, bites his cheek and opens his mouth again.
“I wanted to spend time with you…” Stebbins admits with a wince.
“McVries said I should ask you to hangout because it’s what him and Ray do.” He continues.
“So you send me on a wild goose chase just to hang out?”
“I wanted to ask you normally, but it didn’t feel right.”
“You were busy. And then Olson got this stupid idea where I pretend to be sick.” Stebbins clarifies.
“Baker said that you wouldn’t say no and Parker didn’t object.” He looks away and bows his head in shame.
“So what, this is some group effort to torture me?” Harkness accuses.
“No, it's…” Stebbins voice dies out, like he’s afraid to admit something.
Stebbins sits in his shame for a while and stays quiet. Harkness can’t stay mad at him for long. He has to admit that it was a genius plan. For what it’s worth, it was a little fun to run around, definitely something worth writing down. And Stebbins seeking him? That’s something entirely new.
Harkness hopes that he’s reading the room right because if he isn’t, he will consider jumping out the window and to his death. He scooches over to Stebbins and the mattress shifts as he does. He leans his head on Stebbins’ shoulder and laughs in a tired manner, like this is all just a played out joke.
Stebbins looks down at him and rests his head too. Stebbins relaxes, grateful to be forgiven. They stare into each other's eyes for a while, just savoring the moment. Harkness gets the courage to intertwine his hand with Stebbins. Their hands slot together like a puzzle.
Harkness leans upward to leave a hesitant peck on Stebbins’ mouth. The moment calls for it, with them so close and comfortable in each other’s presence. Stebbins looks shellshocked, his eyes don’t show it but it's apparent in the way he holds his breath.
Their lips are barely inches apart. Stebbins presses his lips closer, captures Harkness in a real kiss. With their lips pressed together, Harkness can only laugh internally at all the trouble he went through. He melts further into Stebbins and thinks that Stebbins might love him the same way too. Stebbins’ lips trail further down his neck, to his collarbone. And then their hands disconnect. Stebbins’ hand snakes its way below his shirt.
Harkness gasps at the feeling of Stebbins’ warm fingers. They press into his skin with a pressure so dangerously gentle and imbue him with warmth. Stebbins nips his collarbone and sucks like he's trying to leave a bruise. It feels like the world has closed in and that nothing else matters. Stebbins’ hand has climbed up ever so slightly, up to his ribs now. And he can feel Stebbins raking his hands up and down, like an archeologist exploring some ancient runes.
He stops himself from making noise, covers his mouth with his other hand. Stebbins must take this as a challenge because he bites down harder. That gets a reaction out of Harkness and he has to pull away with a painful yelp. Stebbins pulls away too and looks at him with a glint of worry.
Harkness looks back at him and breaks out into a laughing fit. Stebbins seems unsure and just hovers awkwardly. Harkness apologizes quickly and gives Stebbins a brief hug. Stebbins lets Harkness hold him.
“I didn’t know you felt the same way.” Harkness admits.
“The same way…” Stebbins mumbles under his breath, mystified.
“But I’m tired and I don’t think your parents are going to appreciate any noise at this hour.” Harkness mutters into Stebbins’ shoulder.
Stebbins just nods and seems to sober up at the mention of his parents. He turns off his lamp with a simple click.
“Plus you taste like cough syrup.”
That makes Stebbins huff out a laugh and he pulls Harkness down with him. Harkness intertwines their pinkies together under the covers.
“Tommorow we’re going out on a date.” He promises.
Stebbins just closes his eyes and offers a suggestion.
“Let’s go to a cafe.”
“Tea?” Harkness adds.
Stebbins just smiles and pulls him closer.
They lay together. Moonlight shines in from the open window. Crickets chirp away and the leaves rustle their gentle tune. Harkness falls asleep, head cushioned by a fine feather pillow. With arms wrapped around another, Harkness can feel the warmth radiating all around like a happy memory, a summer of fun, a sunny day.
Wait.
He never did finish his essay.
Oh well…