And it wasn’t the only reason.
Harry was... too good for someone like him. Harry was such a sunshine, everything good, happy, and kind, everything he could ever want all rolled into one person. Adam sometimes had to pinch himself to make sure he hadn’t dreamed Harry up: he was one of those rare people who were beautiful inside and out.
It’s just a stupid crush, he told himself. A stupid juvenile crush on a boy. Harry might have been legal, but sometimes he seemed so naive and innocent that it made Adam want to wrap Harry in his arms and hide him from the cruel, dirty world. He was dirty, too, because despite all the affection and protectiveness he felt for the strange boy, he still wanted. Wanted to bury himself in Harry’s sweetness and dirty him up with his greedy hands and mouth, fuck him up and ruin him. Adam felt like a bloody pervert for wanting that, because Harry genuinely thought they were friends. And they were. Of course they were. It wasn’t Harry’s fault that he wanted more.
“Sorry, man,” Jake said, clapping him on the shoulder.
Adam just shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about it.
Bidding his goodbye to Jake, Adam headed to the familiar coffee shop across the street.
The bell chimed cheerfully as he pushed the door open. Harry looked up and smiled at him. Adam smiled back and walked toward the counter.
The coffee shop was pretty busy that evening and there were a couple of customers in front of him. Adam took the opportunity to watch Harry while he served the others.
Harry had his chestnut hair brushed back that evening. His porcelain skin looked as flawless and soft as usual. His violet eyes were kind and attentive as Harry listened to the elderly woman in front of him, his pink lips quick to smile when she tipped him generously. Adam could relate. Lately he spent more money in this little coffee shop than was probably healthy.
The elderly woman finally said her goodbyes, and two little girls, twins about six, stepped forward, pointing excitedly at the chocolate cake. “Give us the cake, please,” they said together and started emptying their pockets to reveal what was probably the total of their savings, coins rolling everywhere, even on the floor.
Harry beamed down at the little girls, looking utterly charmed instead of annoyed as he started counting the coins. “Is it your birthday?”
The girls shook their heads. “We just like chocolate,” one of them said.
“And cake,” the other said.
“So we’re killing two birds with one stone,” the first one imparted with an important look.
Harry blinked at them. Adam could tell he was a little confused—he probably didn’t know that idiom either—but Harry smiled widely despite his confusion and gave them the cake. “Here it is, loves.”
Adam could tell the girls’ money was nowhere near enough for the cake and tried not to feel utterly charmed as Harry pulled some money out of his pocket and added it to the little girls’ coins.
The next customer was a guy about Harry’s age.
“Sorry, buddy, but what are you wearing?” he said with a laugh.
Harry frowned a little and looked down at himself. Adam smiled slightly. In the past three weeks since he had met Harry, he had gotten used to Harry’s quirks, and he’d stopped noticing how oddly Harry dressed. It was a good thing the coffee shop owner didn’t seem to believe in uniforms.
This day he was wearing a pair of old jeans and an oversized shirt under his apron.The shirt was bright orange with splashes of green and blue. It was truly hideous, but on Harry it somehow looked cute.
“I don’t understand,” Harry told the customer, blinking.
The guy snorted. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in that orange thing you’re wearing. Hell, even my grandma wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it!”
Adam felt a wave of irritation at the guy when Harry’s face fell.
“Oh,” Harry said, touching his shirt. “I bought it with my first salary.”
“Sorry, but it’s hideous,” the guy said. “Black coffee, please.”
Harry silently served him and said goodbye with a polite smile.
“It isn’t,” Adam said the moment they were alone. “It’s not hideous, Haz. You look lovely in it.”
Harry smiled at him and stroked the fabric of his shirt again. “You don’t have to lie,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “I know my tastes seem weird and... yeah.” He grabbed a rag and wiped the spotless counter.
“Hey,” Adam said, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder. When Harry looked at him, Adam said, “I’m not lying, babe. Fuck that idiot. The shirt is a bit of an eyesore, to be honest, but you’re totally rocking it.”
Harry laughed, his eyes finally brightening. “It’s very soft,” he admitted. “That’s why I bought it. But I didn’t think the color was terrible or anything. I love it. It cheers me up on gray, rainy days and there are lots of days like that!”