Dev turns the corner with his cup of coffee, keenly feeling each minute he has to get back - it’ll be coming up on the second song he’d queued by now, but he’d been drooping at his desk and the thought of going on without the assistance of caffeine had been too much to bear.
He hears Grimmy first, that voice as familiar to him as it is to the nation, though he doesn’t quite catch the words he’s saying, just a bit of a giggle and then something bumping against the wall before Dev’s properly turned the corner, mouth open with a ready hello until he reaches the hallway and comes to an abrupt stop.
Dev blinks once, twice, but he’s still seeing what he’s seeing, Nick slumped against the wall with Harry Styles leaned into his chest, nuzzling against Nick’s throat, his fingers curled into the collar of Nick’s t-shirt. It’s like a stand-up cuddle, and Dev tries to parse it - he knows Nick and Harry are close, but surely he would have found out about this at some point, if they were really - maybe they’re both just that pissed, neither of them look like they’ve even slept.
“I feel like I’m going to pass out,” Harry mumbles, a little slurred but loud enough for Dev to catch. “You’re lucky I love you.”
Nick turns his head just a fraction, presses a kiss to Harry’s hair. “I know,” he says. He strokes a hand up and down Harry’s back, and Harry yawns against him, rubs his nose against Nick’s neck and then kisses him there. Nick laughs a little, ticklish maybe, and then his hand tenses against Harry’s back, fisting in his shirt as Harry kisses him again, trailing them upward to his jaw. “Not here, love,” he murmurs.
“I don’t care,” Harry says, flicking his tongue out, biting at Nick’s jaw. “I don’t care, let’s just tell everyone, tell the whole world.” He pushes a hand up under Nick’s shirt, and Dev’s going to say something any second now, just as soon as he remembers how talking works.
“Let’s talk about that when you’re not sailing on a sea of vodka,” Nick says, and then his eyes flick up, finally catching Dev standing there creeping on them. “See look, we’ve just come out to Dev, how’s that?”
“Alright, I guess,” Harry says grumpily, leaning back into Nick’s arms. “Hiya, Dev.” He waves.
Dev waves back. “Ah, sorry lads,” he says. “Got to get back to my booth. Your secret’s safe with me.”
“Cheers, mate,” says Nick. He ruffles Harry’s hair and pushes him off a bit, and Dev takes that as his cue, making his trip back to his booth as graceful a scurry as he can manage.
Good god, what a thing, Dev’s never had better gossip in his life. Nick owes him for this one. Maybe he can con Nick into ponying up for a nice dinner.
