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Merry Ficmas and a Drabbly New Year

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He thought he’d buried those feelings a long time ago. Today they seemed to come back as though they’d never left. He thinks it’s probably because of the innocent childlike wonder he sees right now, that was half the reason that made him fall for Dougie all those years ago.

Dougie, who’s spinning around in excitement, waving his arms to break the regular fall of snow that’s drifting down.

“It’s not snowed in December for years Haz! We could get a white Christmas!” And Dougie laughs cheerfully, sticking his tongue out and tasting the first snow of the year.

“What’s up Harry?” Dougie looks up from collecting soft snow on the ground in his gloved hands; halfway to making a snowball, pouting with his head tilted in question as to why the drummer isn’t joining in with the fun. Harry would take a photo of the bassist in that moment if he had a camera. Adorable.

“Nothing Dougs. Come here a sec?”

The younger scrambles up and his face crumples with concern once he’s standing in front of Harry. “What’s wrong?”

Harry regrets causing the smile to leave Dougie’s face; mind distracted by the sole thought of wanting him to stop frowning drifting through his brain and he’s not quite processing what he’s doing until he’s oh-

Their lips brush for barely a second before Harry pulls himself together and fumbles his way through words to apologies: “I didn’t mean to- I just wanted to tell you that-“

And then this time, everything’s the other way around and Dougie’s kissing him but much better and so soft and delicate but so beautiful.

“Best Christmas present, bit early though, isn’t it Harry?”

Dougie pulls away with the look of utter innocence, arms behind his back and his head tilted again and the elder thinks his brain isn’t catching onto something obvious when- “Oh and Harry?”


A gloveful of snow is smushed against the drummer’s face and it’s gone as soon as it comes: hearing Dougie running away, laughing, but Harry’s frozen still, feeling most of snow falling down into his shirt on bare skin and shivering (but he still feels so warm somehow).

“You- You did not just-“Harry’s brain finally catches up and he runs towards the bassist, knowing this is the start of a long snowball fight although it feels somewhat different to previous years; hoping this one might end in hot chocolate and cuddles (not just for warmth) in front of a festive movie.

He knows it will, when Dougie turns and gives the drummer the look he’s seen Dougie give to those he adores before (and Harry’s longed to see it aimed at him for so long.)