The Next morning, my big day of laundry did not happen. As happens when touring with a massive amount of people and months of travel ahead of you, I had completely forgotten what day it was. There were stretches where I wasn't even sure what country we were in when the sun rose, and we were confined to the British Isles so far. My head spun when I thought of the future. I always found out our location though. While all the boys were at sound check, I often wandered down to the front desk of wherever we had slept and asked for recommendations. I had told myself the night before when Harry had revealed that he was saddened he never saw their surroundings a little secret. I'm not sure I had consciously admitted my intentions to myself. I wanted to see wherever we were for him. I would be his eyes and ears. I already made it a point to see something of the place I was along for the ride to, but now I was going to see it and document it. So that I could share it with Harry. I hoped it would be a balm instead of salt in the wound.

I woke up that morning in much the same position I had fallen asleep in. Harry was long and lean and warm, pressed against me from knee to shoulder and his face was in my hair.
As I expected this situation, hoped for it really, I did not wake with a start this morning, instead I snuggled down into the white linens and his embrace. My bed sharing habits were nonexistent and this was only the second time I had woken up in his orbit. The first had been ruined by my freak out. That morning I cataloged my awe. The white duvet was pulled up and over our shoulders, creating a cocoon with just our heads emerging. The air around us was softly scented with human smells. Warm skin and soured breath. Instead of being off putting, I was mildly disappointed that I was not facing Harry, that I did not have access to his breath or a view of his face. His exhalation rumbled our and stirred my hair faintly, like a light breeze coming off the ocean. I was still in my y shirt and shorts and harry was in his pants, so only the skin of our legs were pressed together. I, by some small favor of heaven, was not someone who had to shave everyday. I had heard many of my friends bemoan their prickliest, and I did get them, but they grew slowly and the two days since I'd slicked the bands of metal over my limbs were recent enough to keep them at bay. Harry did not shave his legs. For that I was thankful.  I could feel his wiry, coarse hair, sparse though it was brushing against my legs as I stirred. It reminded my of  slipping my legs into sweats after the sun went down at the beach, when a chill has started and salt stuck skin needs warming. The little nubs smooth over your legs and provide a barrier from the crisp air.

The current situation was without chill. Harry was a good ten degrees warmer than the air outside our blanket tent and I relished it. My toes pressed into his and I tried to think about the way each individual part of my body felt so close to his. I had just gotten to the way my hips fit into his pelvis when my loud thoughts must have stirred him.

His arms tightened around me and I could feel his inhale. The next thrill came when he stretched along my back. Those were all new feelings. The leg between my own ran along me like a pumice stone and the muscle of his thighs bulged in the space between my own. I was trying to not notice what my sit bones were pressed tighter against when his back popped loudly.

"That sounded uncomfortable," my hand reached behind myself unconsciously and rubbed his lower back and he made that sound again, my new favorite noise, the purr when he was petted, so I rubbed at the spot until he spoke.

"That's dead nice, Mel. Could you?" He rolled towards me and I moved from under him as he stretched out on his stomach. I sat up while trying to keep my hand on him, laughing at the awkward positioning.

"What exactly are you wanting me to do?" His position was indicative, but I wasn't sure what exactly he expected. Was I to broaden my rubbing or give a full on back massage?

"Could you just," he motioned to his lower back then pointed further afield.

"Harry, I'm not on your payroll, nor am I in any way qualified to massage anybody. Does Mark do this?"

"Cmon Mel, feels lovely when you scratch and rub me. My back aches," He ended the sentence with a little whine, a sound I heard from all the boys in my keep. Little girls may be more high pitched, but they have nothing on man children for whining.

"You do know that you are a whopping eighteen years old, right? Your back has no business hurting. Should see somebody. What's that?" I could hear him murmuring into the pillow he was pressed against while I sat next to him and pressed experimentally into his back.

"I'm nineteen," he moved his head to the left so his sound was less muffled. "That's so nice, babe." He moaned.

I blinked. The moan was also distracting, I shook my head to clear it and asked, "since when?"

"Right before London, I think. Remember when everybody went out after that show?" He up talked the end and I tried to remember. Ohhhh, everybody had gone out that night, but I'd stayed in the hotel. Hoping for a night where I had gotten to sleep before my brother made it back with anyone he had picked up for the night. I ran out of luck at 3am when I'd woken up to loud histrionics from some girl who clearly watched too much porn. I just shut my eyes and stayed in my room. If they were to drunk to care, I'd just put in ear plugs

"Oh!! Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday?" I was getting frustrated with the angle I was working at and wanted to move astride him.

"Why, did you want to give me a prezzie?"

He looked over his shoulder and his tongue pressed to right corner of his mouth and the gesture was so obscenely appealing I nearly couldn't keep mine from lolling out of my mouth. I decided to ignore that innuendo entirely as a result. "Consider this your present," I commented and moved to straddle him.

"Oh, I will," he giggled and the sound was so boyish I wanted to kiss the back of his neck. I focused my attention elsewhere instead. I rubbed his back in the way the salon chairs did and he made lots of happy noises.

When I got to his middle lower back, the symphony of his sounds took on a baser quality and I decided to focus on the spots that made him particularly percussive rather than the tightness his melody was causing to my own snare drum. At one particularly sensitive section, he wiggled his hips and l nearly hit the high hat on my own.

A moment later, it seemed I had run out of skin to manipulate and so I patted him and rolled to the side. Harry didn't respond in words, but instead picked up to hand to kiss.

"Thank you, that was lovely." He kissed the other too and stretched out languidly. My impulse was to remount him and stretch out on his back, but I restrained myself and smiled back instead.

"How long has your back been hurting?" I stretched myself out next to him and turned on my side to face him. I kept my straying eyes above his collarbones, though there were distractions there to, and prayed my hand together to mirror his pose, tucking them beneath my head.

He shrugged, "um, it's always a bit stiff in the morning," he stopped for a moment and looked amused but continued to talk about his back, "think it started to give me more trouble at the end of last tour?"

"Did you tell Mark?"

"Nah, he'll just call me a whiner and add sets."

I rolled my eyes, boys. "I don't think so Harry, you are awfully young to have any pain, let alone back stuff. Tell Mar—," his groan interrupted me, "tell Mark," I continued, " so you don't get hurt."

"Ugh, you're as bad as my sister," he blustered into his pillow.

That chaffed, I had no desire to be sisterly. "Because I don't want you laid up by 25? Listen, just mention it, alright?" I decided to drop it, I had no desire to be a nag. My brother accused me of it often enough.

He jumped on the subject change and pulled the blankets up and over our heads. "Blanket fort!" He said gleefully and tucked the duvet between the mattress and head board. All the white surrounding us made his skin look even tanner. He started pulling in pillows then, placing them around us to create a raised square.

"I don't think we have enough, I'm a lot bigger than the last time I did this."

"Nah, you're tiny," he put his huge hand on my head and pushed down.

"That won't make me fit, wanker!" I pushed his hand off.

The mischievous look in his eye gave me an inkling I was in for it. I would have made a run for it had I not been so distracted.

"Harry," I said not sure what was coming, but I had an idea. He quickly moved his hand from my head to my tummy and wiggled them. "No!"

He laughed and sent his fingers dancing up my sides. I sucked in a big breath and tried to wriggle away. "The fort!"

"This is a tickle fort Mel, you are going to have to escape to get away. His finger crooked at me while I scrambled away, he successfully got a hold of my four and slid me back to him. I writhed as he found all of my spots.

"No!" Breathless, "st—stahp...stop Harry!" My foot caught his ribs and he yelped. I took the opportunity to wriggle away. I got away, but at the cost of my dignity. The unceremonious drop on my ass to the ground didn't bruise anything but my ego. "Ooof," exploded from my mouth and his giggles did the same.

He had undone our blanket fort in just enough time to watch me hit the ground. Apparently he found it hilarious. "Your face!" He bent at the waist and wheezed.

"Fuck off!" I grit. "I hope you choke!"

"Harsh," he laughed. "You embarrassed, Mel?"

"I'm pissed off!" I blistered, "I fucken hate being tickled!"

"Oh Mel! Loosen the reins. It's fun." His chuckled were dying out. He looked at me. "Hey, I'm sorry, it was just a bit of fun. Everybody is ok here. If you don't like it, I won't do it again." He slid off the bed and ran a finger over my chin. I liked that. His touch moved to my hand and he pulled me up. "Don't be mad at me. I didn't know it was a thing."

"I just, I feel like I might hurt you or pee on myself. I'm sure I look ridiculous," I crossed my arms over my chest.

"You look free, your cheeks flush," he gestured, "and you laugh big. You look lovely, Mel! But if you don't like i—."

"It's alright, it's not such a big deal," I shook it off.

"K," he chucked my chin. "Come talk to me while I shave?"

"Shave what?" I giggled.

"My many facial hairs, you fool," and he leaned in to show me.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, "now I see all three of them!"

"Fuck off!" He pulled me after him into the bathroom.

Later I sat on the closed toilet seat and watched him shave. " What are you doing today?" I felt embarrassed I had to clear my throat to ask.

"Um," he pulled the razor away. "I think they have some songs for us to listen to, and a brief radio thing." He shrugged and went back to wicking away his santa beard.

"Ah. Doesn't sound to bad."

"Nah, not to bad. Pretty clear for us really."
He was such a bright sider I sometimes thought he needed smaller cups.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Um, Edinburgh?"

  "What would you do if you were able to see it?" 

Harry filled me in on a few of his bucket list items and a mentally filed them away.

"I had better shower," was his comment after finished his final stroke. "It's gotten late. You are a distraction, with your tickles and forts, and insistence on rubbing on my sexy body."

"As if!" I exaggerated.

"Listen, Cher, I'm gonna have to kick you out!"

"Whatever," I put up the W to continue my quotes. "I should probably get back before he's noticed."

"Has he noticed, or does he care where you go at night."

"No," I laughed, "honestly, you've seen. He shoved me out in his glorious pursuit of dirty sex and assumes someone with take me in—."

"Someone has taken you in." Harry reminded, turning on the shower to warm it up.

I watched the water bead on his forearm when he checked the temperature and continued, "he said something about Lou one morning. I think he thinks I'm sleeping in with her." I looked down at my phone, avoiding the deep well of his eyes.

"If my sister was here now, I'd want to know where she was sleeping."

"I imagine when your sister comes around  you don't kick her out to have indiscriminate sex."   his shrugged and I decided go pay better attention when Gemma came around again.

"I'm sure he'd have something to say if he knew you were bunking with me so often."

"Why? You lend your bed. Nothing is going on."
He looked at me then, and I almost asked, but instead I stared down at our hands and we both kept quiet.

"Regardless, I think he wouldn't like it," Harry said finally.

"Then I guess I won't tell him, will I? If he even bothers to ask. I'm a big girl, I'll sleep where I want."

Harry laughed when I made a muscle, "You are tiny. And should get your tiny arse in the shower." He waved his hand over his face.

"You can go, I don't have a diary full of things to do. besides, should shower in my room, I don't have any clean clothes here."

"You can wear mine." Harry pulled himself up and shook and stretched on the way into the bathroom.

"Pretty sure that would blow our cover, and my brother is too aware of your shenanigans, apparently,"I emphasized, "to trust that I could sleep in here innocently." Harry's face answered a few questions for me and I got up to leave, unsettled in an unpleasant way. "See you later, Harry," I quitted his room.

"Later, babe," drifted after me and took my level of discomfort down, but I knew now that we were hiding us, whatever we were, and I didn't like it.

It didn't stop me though.