i ache for you
you push past the paparazzi. you know you're not supposed to, but he's right there and you can't wait any longer. you've been waiting, and you've waited long enough. you wanted to be there with him the moment they announced he was king. he was all nervous laughter, pressed up close against mark for support. you know him well enough, so well, too well that you saw the way he doubled over for a moment, the way he couldn't quite catch his breath, like he'd plunged into water so cold that it took his breath away.
you were grateful for mark being there, the well timed careful touches that grounded him, anchored him. and you waited, when he was left alone, swaying and speechless and totally stunned. he had his moment in the throne, and you let him pose for a few photos on his own, basking in the glory, because you're so so proud of him. but you'd waited long enough.
you pushed through the photographers and pounced on him, pulled him into a tackle hug, yelling excited happy delighted words, so relieved to be back with him, and all you wanted was to be close close close, to not let go, to touch him and hold him and soak up this, the reunion, and you're so fucking proud of him.
you bounce together, leaping up and down like when you're on stage. you ruffle his hair, and it's normal, but not. you're so happy. you lean in a little too much, almost kiss, because you just want to be close. you're crying a little, his arms wrapped around you, and he's strong and skinny, lost weight while he's been out here. he's laughing and saying "mate, i've missed you so much".
you think you say it back. he ruffles your hair, holds onto you until you bring your head up again, blinking hard, and you hope there aren't any photos of this tomorrow.
"i'm so proud of you," you tell him, but the words are nowhere near enough to match the way you feel. "i'm so proud."
he puts his hands on your shoulders, steadying himself. "i can't believe this is happening."
"it's real. you won. king dougie. i knocked your crown off, i think."
neither of you move to pick it up.
you walk off the bridge together, holding hands. when there aren't photographers around to see, he leans over to vomit and you rub his back soothingly. you want to touch him forever, never let him go again.
"it's not the same without you. i'm so proud of you. never go away this long again."
he smiles, a little weakly, a little shaky and so pale that he's sort of greyish. "did you see me eat penis?"
you nod, laughing. "i was proud then too."
"i've got so much to tell you."
"we've got time. later. you can tell me later. talk for hours. i want to listen to all of it."
he glances at your still joined hands. "do i have to let go?"
"not yet," you say, then, "never. never let go."
*
he has his own room in the hotel, but he follows you back to yours instead. he peels his clothes off and you make a show of telling him how much he stinks, how bad the smell is, he reeks, he's disgusting. he laughs, presses himself up close against you, making you endure his smell, and you don't mind, really, because he's close to you again. you've missed him so much. it's been weird to watch him and not be able to talk to him, to touch him, to be with him.
he tugs you into the bathroom with him. you stand behind him. he stares at you in the mirror while he brushes his teeth. "real shower." he grins. "fucking hell. a real shower! i can finally be clean."
you shake your head fondly. "i know you, dougie poynter. i've been watching, remember? your personal challenge to go without washing?"
he laughs. "you weren't there to scrub my back."
you quirk an eyebrow. "you want me to?"
"i want you to stay."
you join him in the shower, stand with him wrapped in your arms while the warm water washes away the jungle, the smell of it from his skin.
you're not surprised when he starts to cry. you gently turn him around, guide his head to the crook of your neck. he cries into you.
*
you order room service, and eat dinner cuddled together in your bed. dougie moans orgasmically at the taste of everything. you bump your shoulder against his. "your sex noises are putting me off my food."
"maybe i'm working up your appetite," he says, waggling his eyebrows at you.
"you're ridiculous. fuck, i've missed you."
he nudges his elbow against your ribs. "i'm here now."
you clear your throat, blinking back tears. "the boys are so proud of you too. danny tweeted a naked picture in support of your victory."
dougie pulls a face. "what a great way to say thank you to our fans for voting. nobody wants to see that."
"hey, don't. not yet."
dougie steals a chip from your plate, even though there are still chips left on his plate. "are they still awake, do you think? i don't get the time difference."
you nod, slowly, considering it. "they should be, i think."
"can we call them? or skype maybe?" there's a look in his eyes that you recognise. you've seen it in the mirror the past few days. it's longing and loneliness. it's hard being away, being separated. "how's harry doing with strictly?" there's a lot he's missed, but more that you've all missed and he'll have tales to tell for a long time to come.
*
you don't have sex that first night. you kiss, lazily, when he's full of food and he smells clean and his hair is soft and still damp. you mumble i love you and he says it back, or he says it first and you say it back. the words are there, repeated, powerful. you say his name a lot, and hold on to him, like you're frightened he'll be gone if you stop paying attention, if you dare to let go.
"it's so quiet," he murmurs. "and comfortable, and warm. there's no bugs. no spiders. no snakes. no rats. no mark. i miss it already. i miss him already."
dougie's fallen fast and hard and completely. you know that. you don't know what to say. you don't know if it's okay. you didn't feel jealous, but you thought it was temporary, that he was a substitute for you, because dougie gets lonely and he hates being alone. he likes to cuddle, to cling.
"you can see him tomorrow. for breakfast."
dougie makes a noise that is maybe a purr. "breakfast. food, man. you don't even know. it's amazing."
"you can eat as much as you want. you've lost weight, you know. you're looking skinny."
he cuddles closer to you, all bones and cold feet. you pretend to be annoyed, act like you're pushing him away, but really you're pulling him closer.
"go to sleep, dude. i'll still be here tomorrow. and so will you."
he kisses your neck. "i may never leave this hotel room."