Treasures

It had become a thing.
After closing Harry would just follow Archie home, they’d share a cigarette together and tell each other about what their lives had been like before London. Archie had opened up and told Harry all about his mom, the agonizing chemo process and what it felt like to have his father leave after he found out he was gay. In the back of his mind, Archie hated himself even more for letting Harry in; he couldn’t allow himself to fall for the curly haired boy. But when Harry would look at him with greengreengreen eyes, he’d turn into a blubbering mess that didn’t know how to say ‘no’. Harry could ask him for his only kidney and he would kindly hand it over.
On more than one occasion, Harry would go as far as to follow Archie home like a sick little puppy. He’d stay in the guest room and it came to a point where Harry now has a key and trying to figure out whose clothes are whose is practically impossible. There’s been more than one occasion where Harry would wear a pair of Archie’s jeans and the bottoms would reach his ankles. Considering all of this, there were still some days where Harry felt he was intruding and would sleep on a friend’s couch. Which gave Archie time to think and sort out his feelings because waking up to a half naked Harry in his kitchen cooking him an omelet every morning didn’t do much to kill his growing crush on the boy.
Noon time comes around and as the unofficial signal to their lunch break, the two head out the back door of the shop that leads into a tight alleyway with moss covering the brick walls and vines that tangled into each other; reminding Archie of his own hair in the morning, minus all the leaves.
Harry would unpack his signature Swiss cheese and bologna sandwich from the Superman lunchbox he’s had since he was around five years old and they’d eat together in a comfortable silence. Harry had told Archie about being in Salvation Army with his mother and upon finding the plastic treasure he refused to leave without it.
“You know,” Harry said to him one extremely sunny day, the sun beat down onto them between the roofs of the shop and another neighboring store, Harry’s hair appearing even more chocolate than usual, “Sometimes, when I’m at yours, I’ll just lie in bed and think about what I’d even be doing if we hadn’t met. It’s hard to think about a life where I wouldn’t have met you, I feel like we sort of fit together, ya know?” Archie swallowed down the ham that had suddenly become lodged in his throat and nodded, he sometimes wondered if he would have been happier in another life where he had never met Harry, even though he already knew the answer to that question. “I think I might even…” he trailed off with a faint blush on his cheeks and a sip of his now-cold black coffee.
The crates they were sitting on began to feel uncomfortable and the air around them was still. Archie desperately wanted him to finish his sentence or to gather up enough courage himself to whisper into the silent air, ‘I love you’. But Archie was not brave enough and the watch on his wrist began to beep. Their lunch hour was now over and Harry was gone, having left quickly after hearing the silent ring.
Back in the shop everything was normal. Harry was still kind to customers and Archie still had on his displeased face, which as a little more displeased now because of what had happened outside. There were moments when they’d catch each other’s eyes from across the room and Harry would beam at him, a giant smile that rivaled the sun, like as if nothing had happened at all.
But it had happened, if Harry not sleeping at theirs tonight was any proof. He parted ways with Archie on their last stop, with a stomp on his cigarette butt and a fake apology. “I’m sorry” he said, “I promised my buddy that I’d stay with him, he’s been complaining about not seeing enough anymore”.
Like always whenever it comes to Harry, Archie gave a thin smile and did not voice any of his opinions. He let Harry go without a fight and watched him disappear up the exit stairs, his hideous brown boots making an awful clacking noise that sounded a lot like a pair of stiletto heels. Archie smoked his last Viceroy of the pack on his way home and found Kyle, at his doorstep, drunk and clinging to his shirt. With a reminder to buy more cigarettes the next morning and an arm full of Kyle, he marched into his flat and set his best friend down by TV.
There was a late night Friends marathon playing so Archie decided to keep it there, he wasn’t going to watch anyways, just think a little more about what he probably should’ve said to Harry. As he allowed himself to drift off into sleep, there was a hand he felt moving from his knee towards his inner thigh until reaching his crotch. Quickly, he looked towards Kyle, whose face was illuminated by Monica and Chandler on the screen, and suddenly his hand was rubbing at him. Archie knew he should have just pushed him off, but he hadn’t gotten any action in months, so he figured that as long as no feelings would get involved, this would be okay.
In the span of a minute or so, Archie had reached full hardness (it’s been a while, don’t blame him) and relieved himself of his jeans. His best friend now kneeling in between his spread knees and licking up the underside of his shaft and fondling his balls. Neither of them heard the sound of Archie’s door being unlocked or heard the soft click-clacking of what could be mistaken as stiletto heels. But they did hear the soft gasp Harry gave at the entrance to the lounge. His big pink mouth slightly open in surprise and green eyes looking greener against the harsh light of the TV. As quickly as this had began, it ended with a door slam and Kyle lifting himself up off his knees, seeming to have sobered up, and making his way to the guest room.
Archie was debating whether he should sit in his own self pity and finish the Friends marathon or go after Harry, and say what? ‘Hey, I’m a piece of shit and aren’t good with feelings at all, I really like you but don’t mind the fact my friend was giving me head, I was just taking advantage of him’ not quite likely.