Don't Wave No Goodbye

Darcy returns to work the following day to find out that much to her dismay, there’s a disgusting amount of Christmas songs being added to the Radio One playlist and she’s actually expected to play a minimum of three during her two hour show. She grumbles about it naturally, mostly because she loves complaining but also because she loves winding up Producer Claire who in return, retaliates by talking about how much she liked the fill-in DJ who’d covered Darcy’s show while she was sick.

Darcy just grins at this. “Oh please Claire, you missed me. You missed me lots. Ian text me yesterday saying how sad and lost you looked without me! I wasn’t going to bring it up but I think it’s rather moving.”

“Shut up Lewis, before I petition to have your stand-in replace you permanently,” Claire gripes but she’s trying to hide a smile which makes Darcy laugh, before accidently setting off a coughing fit.

“God you still sound awful, you sure you’re up for the rest of the show?”

“I’m fine, honestly! I’ll get all the coughing out of my system during these lovely Christmas songs I have to play,” Darcy says, making a face at the list she has to pick from which just makes Claire laugh before leaving her to it.

In the end, Darcy plays Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe because she kind of has a soft spot for the Biebs, and according to the text machine, so do a bunch of the listeners who say that they’d never admit it out loud but they were jamming to it. Darcy checks her own phone during the song to find a bunch of concerned texts from Harry, reminding her to drink lots of fluids and play another song if she wasn’t feeling up to talking just yet.

Darcy rolls her eyes but she does find it all rather sweet. She’s grateful for him, there’s no denying that, because without him she probably would’ve just laid in her own sickness and never got any better, and she thinks it’s kind of amazing how an eighteen year old popstar would so willingly look after someone he has absolutely no obligation towards.

‘thanks popstar. i’m fine, srsly, stop worrying! go do something constructive!’

Harry’s reply comes through a few minutes later. ‘jb? really? how come you never play anything from that talented one direction band? why the hate? :) you up to anything later?’

Darcy makes a face at this, shaking her head at her phone in amusement. Although she won’t admit it, she’s kind of terrified to find out what happens if people start to realise that herself and Harry are friends, let alone sleeping together. She’s seen the kind of awful things the fans write about the girls Harry’s been papped with and it’s slightly daunting. Darcy’s been shielded by all this because the only time she’d been papped with Harry was when they’d joined Nick, Finchy, and Greg for lunch, and the fans were far too occupied with Nick and Harry hanging out that she’d been ignored altogether. Talking about the band and Harry on air or even just playing their music made her paranoid that people would start putting the pieces together and she can’t have that.

‘so humble, young styles, so humble indeed. busy tonight, sorry :( another time, yeah?’

A lie, but a necessary one. She’d spent half a week in Harry’s company, lying together on the couch watching movies during the day and crawling into her bed together at night, and there was absolutely zero sex involved the entire time. In Darcy’s mind, they’d reached the stage where they were no longer fuck buddies, they were friends with benefits. She’d explained the difference to Nick once, because there was one. Friends with benefits is a lot more dangerous because at the end of the day, it’s not all about the sex. You care about the other person; want to know about their day and what’s going on and you hang out together, not always naked and filled with lust. This is what she and Harry had become, two friends who occasionally shag each other whenever they feel the need and although she secretly liked this arrangement because she liked being with Harry and they always had a good time together, she knew she had to pull back and stay away for a while to get them back to a safe place where feelings weren’t involved.

‘sure thing! look after yourself, yeah? x’

Smiling, Darcy taps out a reply before putting her headphones back on, hitting send quickly. ‘will do, mama styles.’

The rest of her show continues smoothly, she rambles on about her fever induced dreams and how lazy she’s been over the last few days while she’s been recovering but she’s very careful not to mention anything about the nation’s beloved curly haired popstar playing her nurse. When she signs off for the afternoon show, she has a quick meeting with Claire to catch her up on what’s been talked about the last few days as well as what’s going to be on tomorrow’s show, then she starts looking around the building in the hopes to find Nick or Fiona or even Dan to ask them to hang out.

The last thing she wants to do is sit at home by herself and with no plans for the afternoon, it’s beginning to look like that’s exactly what she’s going to end up doing. In the end, she hails a cab to take her home, still feeling a bit miserable about everything when the cabbie pulls up outside her house and she spots someone sitting hunched on her front doorstep.

Not someone, Nick Grimshaw.

Darcy throws a few notes at the driver and hurries out of the car, feeling as through her heart just might stop when Nick looks up at her and it’s looks as though he’d been crying. He gives her a watery, half-assed smile.

“Your dumb male escort, boyfriend, whatever, moved your spare key around,” he sniffs, bringing up a sleeve to wipe at his face. “Couldn’t find it.”

She’s about to tell him that once again, not her boyfriend, but he just looks so miserable that instead she holds a hand out to him and helps him up, quickly unlocking the door and leading him inside. He instantly moves to the couch, slumping down heavily before looking up at Darcy expectantly.

“Oh Grim, what’s going on?” Darcy asks, moving to sit beside him, a surge of worry rushing through her because this is Nick and he hardly cries about anything. He joked himself that he’d had his tear ducts removed at an early age.

“Aimee’s leaving,” he tells her softly, his voice all thick from emotions. “She’s going back to New York and leaving me alone.”

“Oh Nick,” Darcy whispers sympathetically but Nick’s immediately narrowing his eyes at her.

“You’re not even surprised,” he accuses. “Did you know?”

Darcy looks around the room awkwardly, knowing she can’t lie to him. “Okay, yes, she told me a few weeks back at your party. But in my defense, at the time she said nothing was certain and it’s not like it was my secret to tell.”

Nick gives a loud whine, throwing himself back on the couch and lying there, sprawled out like he’s got nothing left to live for. “I can’t believe this. Betrayed by two of my best friends. Next thing you know, Henry will pop out of nowhere, tell me he’s not gay, and that him and a knocked up Pixie are moving to the Bahamas. I need better friends, you’re all horrible.”

He still looks upset but Darcy’s glad he’s choosing to make jokes about the whole situation. “Nick, no one is betraying you. You should be happy for Aimee, she seemed really excited about that job!”

“No, I don’t want to be happy for anyone. I want to be a miserable, bitter, horrible friend who takes no pleasure in my friends’ successes. How dare she make a career decision that impacts me in such a way? That bitch.”

“Is this about you being sad that she’s leaving, or you being sad that you have to live alone now?”

Nick huffs, hating that Darcy can be so perceptive. “Bit of both really. I love Aimee, she’s the light of my life even if she comes home early in the morning and makes a racket when I have to be up at five, or changes my alarm tone so I have to hear bloody One Direction before the sun’s even up. It’s like, you know, I only just got her back since New York ate her heart and now she’s going back? That’s not right.”

“You know, there’s this awesome new invention called the internet where you can talk to your friends from overseas in a range of different ways, and come on, she’ll be back over here so often that you won’t even notice she’s gone.”

“It’s not the same. Now who’s going to watch crappy telly with me when I can’t sleep or make me coffee when tea’s not doing the job or walk Lex when I’m too busy or tell me I’m an asshole when I need to hear it?”

“Maybe… Louis?” Darcy offers slyly, laughing when Nick gives her a horrified look.

“Not even slightly funny, you witch!” Nick scolds, attempting to hit her with one of the couch cushions but falling short as Darcy continues to laugh at his reaction.

“Oh come on, it’s kind of funny. Let’s be real, he’s at your house more often than not, I don’t see why you two don’t just make it official, right?”

“Perhaps because there is nothing to make official? Unlike you and your little bitch Styles, we don’t spend our time playing house and talking about our feelings. We’re just stress release for each other, mentally and physically, and it saves Louis from trying to get dick somewhere else and ending up on the front page of paper,” Nick says nonchalantly.

“Right, sure,” Darcy answers, her tone heavy with disbelief. “You like him. Don’t even deny it, because you do. Your eyes light up every time he’s mentioned and you can say it’s just sex all you want, but I think you’re after something more.”

“Pah! Vicious lies, made to hurt people,” Nick yells before covering his face with hands. “Okay, maybe I like him a little more than I thought I would. He’s just this snarky little bitch who can be really funny and really lovely and I think maybe he’s ruining me?”

“Aha! I knew it! I knew you liked him! God Nicholas, you’re worse than I am. You should tell him how you feel, you know, and maybe he’ll move in with you? Easy access and whatnot.”

Nick leans over and flicks Darcy’s knee. “No that’s something that’s not going to happen. Like, ever. He doesn’t want anything more and I’m okay with that. As long as he still gets on his knees for me when we’re together, it’s all good.”

“Holy shit,” Darcy says in amazement, her eyes going wide as Nick looks around nervously.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that? What is it?”

“You want to date him. You, Mr. No Commitments Grimshaw, want to actually be exclusive with this boy and have labels and be boyfriends. He really has ruined you.”

“What? I – no! Don’t be ridiculous!” Nick splutters, scrambling to sit up properly.

“You literally just outed yourself, you bastard! You said he doesn’t want anything more, not that you don’t want anything more. You want to date this boy, don’t you? I can’t believe this; you fall for the one person who might not actually want a relationship. Nicholas,” Darcy breathes, watching as Nick screws his face up.

“Okay, alright, I want the annoying little tosser to be my own, okay? I want to know that I’m the only person he’s coming home to or who’s allowed to kiss him, I want him to tell me about his day and I want to hold his bloody hand when he’s sad and I want to do all those sad, pathetic, sappy things that I’ve never wanted to do with anyone else! There, are you happy now? I said it,” Nick says hastily before dropping his gaze. “But it’s pointless because he doesn’t want any of that. He just wants someone he can shag while he’s in town and why wouldn’t he? He’s young and gorgeous and he doesn’t have time for a relationship. He’s living the life I had when I was younger, and when I was his age there was no way I wanted to be in a committed relationship.”

“Nick, he’s not you, do you realise that? Have you ever thought that maybe you come off as not wanting a relationship, so he’s telling himself the same thing?” Darcy asks gently, reaching out to take Nick’s hand. “I’ve only met Louis a few times but even I can tell that he hides a lot of himself away. Maybe he’s just acting like he doesn’t want anything else because he’s scared he’ll lose you if he does?”

“Way to make this into a romance novel, Darce,” Nick teases but there’s no real heat. “I don’t know, this is all too much to think about. Besides, I’ve been shagging the lad, what, for a month? It’s just an infatuation. I’ll get over it soon enough.”

Darcy gives him a doubtful look. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Grim. So back to your initial problem before your big gay romance freak out, living by yourself is nothing to be worried about. You’re an adult, I’m sure you can handle it.”

“I can handle it just fine, thank you. I just don’t like it, that’s the problem,” Nick explains, sighing loudly and falling back against the couch. “It just sucks, you know? I hate not being around people and I hate being alone. Makes me get all weird and I can’t stand it.”

“Nick, you’re barely ever home as it is. And you’ve got Lex! I think you’re worrying about this too much, you’re going to be fine, trust me,” Darcy reassures him, squeezing Nick’s hand gently. “And I’m only ten minutes away, so when you get all sad and weird, just text me and I’ll come over and we can watch shitty TV and I’ll remind you that you’re an asshole, and I’ll take Lex for walks when you’re busy.”

“Promise?” Nick asks, and he looks vulnerable, something Darcy’s never seen before. She can understand completely why Nick is that exact type of person that can’t handle being left alone, he’s the type that gets trapped in his own head and needs to constantly be distracted by others around him.

“Absolutely,” Darcy promises. “Now, this is just a guess but I feel like you need to go home and apologise to Aimee for storming out when she gave you the news, then congratulate her on her exciting job opportunity. Hmm?”

Nick has the decency to look sheepish. “Yeah, I was pretty awful to her. Thank you, Darce, you’re a legend.”

“I try!” Darcy says cheerfully, grinning when Nick stands and plants a kiss on top of her head before waving goodbye. Once he’s gone, Darcy stretches out on the couch and considers the whole Louis and Nick situation. Stranger things have happened but this is kind of huge. She briefly wonders if she could get Harry in on this and somehow they can plot some type of plan to get them together.

But no, she and Harry aren’t going to do anything together, mostly certainly not play matchmakers with their best friends. What they are going to do is sex, and that’s it, Darcy tells herself firmly.