One Direction fic | Outlast | OT5 | ~20,000 words | NC-17 | [2/2]
Part One
--
Part Four
Day Fourteen
Harry always thought that he was a good person, but he would make a deal with the devil right now if it meant that he could have five minutes of privacy.
Sure it would be nice if someone beat Louis -- Zayn, specifically. It would be nice if Zayn beat Louis. Harry doesn’t need to be involved in this anymore. But Liam keeps giving him these incredibly dull pep talks that somehow still don’t manage to kill Harry’s boner.
He doesn’t know what kinds of things the devil might want from him, but he would definitely yell at some puppies. Kick some slugs. Bite Liam’s hand off and shove it up his ass.
“So just remember,” Liam concludes. “Think about the children.”
“Zayn will take Louis out,” Harry says. “You don’t need me.”
“That’s exactly my point,” Liam says. “Honestly, Harry, have you not been listening to me at all?”
“Umm,” Harry says.
“You need to make sure Zayn doesn’t win. He’s a menace, and he must be stopped.”
“You mean Louis?”
“Zayn,” Liam repeats.
“Zayn’s just been sleeping on things a lot. This morning Louis tripped Niall into my lap and yelled for him to start sucking.”
There was a moment where Harry seriously considered just letting him have at it, but Paul was sitting right beside him. Which isn’t actually enough of a deterrent in and of itself, but Paul said that if any of them get naked in front of him again he’s going to send a picture to their mums. And he seemed serious about that, so reluctantly Harry had to dump Niall on the floor. He did roll himself down there as well and then he and Niall wrestled for a little while until Harry started grinding against Niall’s thigh and Niall said, “None of that, mate. You just stick it out a little longer.”
Harry wants to stick it in. He doesn’t understand what terrible thing he did to have so many people trying to help him all the time.
Liam crosses his arms and says, “Zayn’s the one that got me out. You have to enact my revenge.”
“Exact your revenge.”
“No, enact. I need you to act it out for me. I need you to take Zayn down.”
“I just have to be honest,” Harry says. “I think there’s more of a chance that I’ll grow wings.”
“As long as you don’t have an orgasm,” Liam says, nodding firmly.
Harry makes agreeable noises and backs away quietly. It’s alright. It’s a big venue. There have to be plenty of places where he can get a moment’s privacy.
He finds Lou sitting in the hallway, just a few metres down from what appears promisingly to be a single person toilet.
“Listen,” Harry says, cupping Lou’s shoulder with one hand to make sure she’s looking at him and not her phone. “I just need you to stand here for three minutes and make sure no one comes in, okay?”
The last time he tried to lock himself in a toilet, Liam called building security to come unlock the door. But Lou could probably distract Liam.
“What’s that?” Lou asks.
“I just need like three minutes of privacy, can you please just make sure no one comes in? Two minutes even. I just need, like, literally a few moments of privacy and then I will never ask you for anything else as long as I live.”
“I highly doubt that,” Lou says. “Just three nights ago you made me stay up all night with you to cut your t-shirts into headbands.”
“That was professional,” Harry says. “I need those to wear on stage. This is a personal favor.”
“Yesterday you stole Lux from me for like four hours.”
“That was babysitting!”
“That was baby-stealing, you broody bastard.”
“It’s not a favour if everyone leaves happy.”
“What about last week, when you got naked in a hot tub with my husband?”
“What did I just say?”
“He was all frisky afterwards.”
“As I said, it’s not a favour if--”
“Yeah, yeah,” Lou says.
“So you’ll watch the door for me?”
“What are you up to now, Styles?”
“Two minutes! Just for two minutes!”
“Is this about that bet you lads have going on?”
“No.”
“Absolutely not.”
“I just said it wasn’t about the bet,” Harry says, giving her his most becoming frown.
Lou rolls her eyes. “You want to go in there to wank off, you randy bastard.”
“So you’ll watch the door?”
“Over my dead body. You’re not losing on my watch.”
“What? Why not?”
“We’ve got £300 on riding on this.”
“You bet on me?”
“Yeah.”
“Why did you bet on me? No one bet on me.”
“To be fair, I told Tom to put the money on Liam, but he felt bad when he saw that the odds were seven million to one against you.”
“There weren’t odds.”
“There were,” Lou says. “I think Paul just made them up, but there were numbers for all of you. And then Liam went and got himself out, so that was alright after all, wasn’t it?”
“I will give you whatever seven million to one times £300 is if you will just watch the door for one minute.”
“That’s not even how betting works,” Lou says. “No wonder you lost all that money in Australia.”
“Lou,” Harry whines.
“Nope,” she says. She grabs his arm and starts leading him down the hall. “Come on, you. Back to your band.”
Harry sighs and drags his feet pointedly as he follows after her.
She takes him back to Liam.
“Got to keep a better eye on this one, Daddy,” she says, pushing Harry forward.
“Harry,” Liam says. “We just talked about this.”
Lou laughs and leaves them to it.
“Don’t you want to beat Zayn?” Liam asks.
“It’s like, I do? But I want to have an orgasm even more.”
“But an orgasm is fleeting and winning is forever.”
“I could have more than one orgasm,” Harry says, with a look he hopes Liam realizes is meant to convey what a donut he’s being. Who cares about winning for principle when there are actual orgasms to be had?
But maybe he’s not such a donut, because then Liam says, “I will give you a blowjob if you take Zayn down.”
“What?” Harry says. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Really, though? Really really?”
“Really,” Liam says. “Really really. Oh my god, that’s not even a word any more. Yes, I’ll give you a blowjob.”
Harry claps once, excitedly. Harry has been trying to get a blowjob from Liam for basically the entire time that Liam has had that mouth on that face.
--
And that’s enough motivation to power him through the rest of the day. Right up until the point when Paul asks, “You going to sleep on the bus tonight?”
“I’ll go in the hotel,” Harry says as casually as he can manage. “Take a swim.”
He really does go to the pool even though they have to open it up special for him this late at night and there are half a dozen hotel employees watching him swim slow laps. It feels good to be in the water and by the time he's ready to head back to the room, he finally feels calm. He thinks maybe he can hold off, but as soon as he’s in the elevator, he realizes: no. No, he can’t hold off.
He’ll just have to find another way to get that blowjob from Liam.
Except that when he opens the door to the hotel room, Zayn is lying on the bed.
“Hi,” Harry says. “You good?”
“Yeah,” says Zayn. “You good?”
“Yeah,” Harry says. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” Zayn says. “Except Louis kicked me off the bus.”
“What were you doing this time?”
“Trying to sketch,” Zayn says. “Should have know better than to try to do that in public, I guess.”
“Obviously,” says Harry. “How inconsiderate.”
They don’t normally sleep in the hotels because it vastly increases their chances of being mobbed and isn’t worth the hassle. Except when one of them wants some privacy. Which was literally Harry’s entire objective for tonight. Zayn is definitely one of Harry’s four least favorite bandmates right now.
He sighs as quietly as he can and starts shucking off his wet trunks. He uses up three of the little white towels drying his hair until it’s a fluffy mess, and then he grabs an apple from the bowl sitting on top of the mini bar and sits on the bed beside Zayn.
“You sleeping here?”
“Nah,” Zayn says. “Just going to give him a chance to cool off.”
“You can,” Harry says, because he can’t help himself. Even though all the rest of his brain is screaming at him to just get Zayn out of here, it’s Zayn and Harry doesn’t want to be rude.
“You alright?” Zayn asks, kicking out until he can rest the sole of his foot against Harry’s thigh.
“Yeah, good,” Harry says. “You alright?”
“Yeah, mate,” Zayn says.
He wiggles his toes against the edge of the towel Harry has wrapped around his waist. Harry’s not wearing anything under the towel. The terry cloth is kind of floating over the heat of his erection, and he’s not sure if Zayn has noticed yet or not. The towel’s bunched up enough that maybe it’s not totally obvious. Maybe it is, though. It wouldn’t be the first time Zayn has seen Harry with a boner.
“Heard you were having some trouble,” Zayn says, stilling his toes. His foot is pressed to the bare skin of Harry’s thigh.
“It was a bit of a weak moment,” Harry says. He smiles, sheepishly, and shrugs. When he looks over at Zayn, Zayn’s got one eyebrow quirked.
“So you don’t want out of the game?” Zayn asks.
“No,” Harry says. “I definitely want out of the game. I just probably am going to stop begging my friends to let me masturbate in public. Not quite the legacy I was hoping to leave on this tour.”
He shifts and the towel slides against his cock with this tiny hint of friction. He’s really gone ‘round the bend if just the touch of fabric is enough to get him going, but it is. It really is. He flexes his ankles, stretching out his toes, and takes what he means to be a steadying breath, but then he makes the mistake of glancing over at Zayn.
“If you really want out,” Zayn says, looking steadily at Harry, “I’m not going to stop you.”
Harry sucks in a breath and then another one, his heart pounding so hard that it feels like it’s rattling his chest.
“Go on then,” Zayn says, “pull it out. Give us a show.”
Harry scrubs his hand over his cheeks and tries to rub away the sweat that’s gathering at his hairline. Nothing is happening but his entire body has gone tight with this sloshy wave of desire.
“You got Liam out on purpose,” Harry says slowly.
“Hm?” Zayn says absently. He does that intentionally. He pretends like he’s not really listening, but Harry knows he listens better than anyone else.
“This is a trap,” Harry realizes. In fairness to how slowly his brain is working, Zayn’s toes are just centimetres from Harry’s dick.
“It’s not a trap if you’re getting what you want,” Zayn says. He uses the bottom of his foot to push at the hem of the towel and then slides his foot a little higher up.
Harry holds still. Zayn’s toes are pressed against the bare stretch of his thigh. Harry’s focus narrows to that small point of pressure. He lifts his hand and cups Zayn’s ankle.
“What about what you want?” Harry asks, sweeping his thumb in a slow circle around the bump of Zayn’s ankle bone.
Zayn’s toes curl. That’s why Harry likes being naked all the time. It’s so easy to read bare skin.
“Harry,” Zayn says warningly as Harry skims his hand up Zayn’s bare thigh and lingers at the point where his shorts start. It’s easy to reach with the way Zayn has his leg stretched almost into Harry’s lap. He slides his fingers under the hem and keeps pushing upward, his hand on Zayn’s thigh now, until Zayn finally stops him with a hand to Harry’s wrist.
“Truce,” Zayn says, but Harry’s already burning for it. His competitive streak is buried deep, but it’s still there. Zayn got Liam out on purpose. He’s trying to take Harry’s blowjob away. He must be stopped.
“You want my mouth instead?” Harry asks, bending forward and crawling onto the bed. The towel is moments away from sliding off of his waist, but that’s alright. This will probably work even better if he’s naked.
He drops his head and nuzzles at Zayn’s erection, covered by the soft, thick fabric of his shorts. This close, he can smell Zayn, and it makes his mouth water.
“I remember how much you liked this,” Harry says, opening his mouth to breath hotly over Zayn’s cock.
Zayn’s hand comes down like a clamp on the back of Harry’s neck and there’s a moment of hesitation where Harry’s not sure if he’s going to push him down or pull him up.
Finally Zayn slides his fingers into Harry’s hair and tugs him up.
He knows Harry likes having his hair pulled, too. Bastard.
“Truce,” Zayn says again, his fingers still tight in Harry’s hair. Harry nods, even though it makes the pull worse, and finally Zayn lets go.
Harry licks his lips. It turns out the only thing he likes more than winning is sex. He thought that winning meant sex, but that is a far away thing. Zayn is right here on the bed, and the last time they were together, Harry had bruises on his thighs for days.
He reaches for Zayn again, and says, “Never mind, I do want to lose.”
Zayn laughs shakily.
“Zayn,” Harry insists.
“Come on then,” Zayn says, pulling them both to the head of the bed so that they can slide under the covers.
Yes, Harry congratulates himself, but then Zayn just spoons up behind him and cuddles him down.
“Umm,” Harry says.
“We’ve got a truce,” Zayn says. “Go to sleep.”
He wraps his hand around Harry’s wrist, holding it to Harry’s chest. With Zayn’s arm wrapped around him and his own hand being held by Zayn, there’s not much Harry can do without pushing Zayn away. Even though it’s not an orgasm, it still feels really good to have Zayn close like this. Almost enough good to make him forget about how badly his cock aches. But not quite. Even with promise of a blowjob from Liam looming in the background.
He watches the clock tick down to sunrise while Zayn holds him close.
--
Day Fifteen
Louis finds him after the show while Harry’s still shaking from the rush of performing.
“Got you,” Louis says, catching Harry by the wrist and pulling him into an empty room.
Harry follows after him, pulling his sweaty headband away and dropping it on the floor. He shakes his hair into his face and feels little pinpricks run up the base of his spine.
“You’ve got a lot of friends,” Louis says. “A lot of people trying to help you win.”
“Niall is literally trying to help you win,” Harry points out. He’s still winded even though he also feels like he could run for miles. Adrenaline is his favorite drug.
Louis smiles, that sharp, toothy smile of his that has Harry trying to gulp in air.
“Do you even want to win?” Louis asks. “I don’t think you do. I think you’d be happy to give it up.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Harry says. He likes things that are a bit of a challenge, but only the kinds of challenges he’s good at. He’s not good at this. He’s better when his dick is involved more, not absent entirely.
“Let’s go then,” Louis says, delighted.
Harry nods and then catches himself: Liam will be so disappointed. Harry pauses. Does he really want to lose? Yes. But does he?
Yes.
But does he?
“Oh, for Christ sake,” Louis says after he takes too long. He charges on Harry and kisses him, hard, with more teeth than tongue. It’s just as good as Harry remembers it being. Liam knows how hard it is to say no to Louis; he’ll understand.
“You too?” Harry gasps, throwing his head back when Louis pushes him up against a wall and slots their thighs together.
“No,” Louis says, “just focus.”
He twists his hips hard enough that Harry hears the ocean rush up in his ears.
“Oh, bugger,” Harry says, quiet because he can’t find the air to be louder. Louis stops moving and Harry whimpers before he takes over, riding Louis’s thigh.
“Like this, right?” Louis says. He licks at Harry’s neck. He must be tasting the salt of Harry’s sweat and, fuck.
“Yes, please,” Harry says, feeling his toes curl with the achy twist of pleasure that comes from being so close. He moves against Louis, rocking in to him. It’s been so long that he feels the build of orgasm spreading through his entire body, this white hot surge that’s sparking everywhere. Louis is solid and warm and his mouth is sharp and Harry’s so close that his eyes are rolling back in his head.
‘You’re going to lose,” Louis says. “Is it worth £10,000 to rub off on my thigh?”
“Y-es,” Harry chokes out. Right now it would be worth everything he’s got in all of his bank accounts to rub off on Louis’s thigh.
“Fuck, you’re shaking,” Louis says. His hips twist, riding the way Harry keeps thrusting against him, these frantic jerks of his hips that he can’t even control. Louis’s moving with him again, and it’s better but it’s making the friction come in waves where before Louis was just this constant pressure for Harry to grind against. His legs are going to give out at any moment. They would have already if he wasn’t caught between Louis and the wall.
“Please,” he babbles, clinging to Louis’s shoulders as if it was possible for them to be any closer together, “please, I want to come, Louis, oh god.”
He manages another little trembling thrust forward before Louis goes tense, gripping Harry’s hips hard enough that it hurts. There’s a long moment while Louis jerks wildly before he goes suddenly still and then steps away, which, no, that is the opposite of what Harry wanted. He was just confused because it was a new pain, but he was still going to come, even with Louis’s fingers clamped down tight enough to bruise. Now he’s gone, and, “No,” Harry says, reaching for him.
“Fuck,” Louis says. He’s got his palm pressed flat to the flies of his jeans and he leaves his head dropped for a long moment before finally lifting his face.
“Did you just come?” Harry asks even though it’s obvious from the wash of red down Louis’s cheeks and the slowly darkening spot down the front of his trousers.
Louis nods, his mouth still dropped open in a gasp.
“Okay,” Harry says. “That’s okay. Shit, I have to --” He presses his own hand down the front of his jeans.
He needs literally another ten seconds and then he’ll come too but suddenly there’s a banging at the door. Harry doesn’t care, but Louis startles, and then Liam’s charging in and shouting, “Harry, no!”
Niall follows closely behind them, then Zayn.
This can’t be happening.
“What just happened?” Liam asks, glaring back and forth between them. “Louis, were you bothering Harry again?”
“I think Louis’s the one bothered,” Zayn says, nodding at the wet spot on the front of Louis’s jeans.
“Harry,” Liam says, beaming. “Nicely done.”
“Yeah, sure,” Harry says. “Now can I please have a couple minutes to myself to celebrate my victory? A couple of minutes to myself with just Liam in the room, please.”
“Not until you get Zayn out,” Liam says, cheerily. “You’re almost there, mate.”
“No,” Harry says, panicked. “I got Louis out.”
“Zayn,” Liam reminds him.
“I’m right here,” Zayn says mildly.
“You know what you did,” Liam says with a little glare. He keeps it up for about four seconds but softens when Zayn tilts his head and makes a frowny face.
“You’re so close now,” Niall says, encouragingly. He slips his hand into Harry’s when he notices Harry groping for his cock again. Harry didn’t mean to, it’s just. He really wants to touch his cock.
“Come on, then,” Liam says and he grabs for Harry’s other hand. “Let’s get you back on the bus.”
“Wait,” Harry says as he tries to shake them off.
“Here we go,” Liam says. Someone needs to stop him from going to the gym because it’s like trying to break free of steel. Even Niall’s grip is more than Harry can wiggle free from.
“Please,” Harry cries out as they start dragging him down the hall, pulling hard enough on his arms that he has to scamper along after them. “I just want to forfeit. Just let me lose.”
--
Part Five
Day Sixteen
The game couldn’t have unfolded better if Zayn had planned it himself. Louis was the only real wild card because he’s vicious when he thinks that someone is trying to pull something on him, and it’s almost impossible to make him do something he doesn’t want to do. Zayn never would have considered just begging for it until he caved, but Harry’s a clever lad.
Harry’s a clever lad, but he’s not vicious and he will forgive almost any past indiscretion if it means he gets shagged. He doesn’t even need to forgive -- the first time they ever hooked up was after Zayn pulled the bird Harry had been going for. She ended up having to take her much-drunker friend home, so in the end Zayn didn’t actually get to take her back to the hotel room, but Harry was still narked.
And then he sucked Zayn’s dick, so.
Zayn knows he could take Harry down, but he’s less sure how to navigate Liam, who needs to stop getting his ideas about vengeance from superhero movies, and Niall, who appears to be helping Harry just out of the goodness of his heart. Every time he tries to get Harry alone, there’s Liam, barging in with a scowl, or Niall, throwing himself between the two of them.
The obvious solution is just to involve Niall as well, but he’s not sure what to do about Liam.
Who is currently stood in front of Zayn with his arms folded, staring pointedly.
Zayn sighs, and loosens the grip he had on the meaty part of Harry’s thigh. He was like three minutes away from working it into a casual grope (and another thirty seconds beyond that to bringing Harry off if the way he was already squirming and panting was any indication).
“Just watching a film,” Zayn says, lifting both hands in the air in a show of innocence.
“Let’s see some space between you two,” Liam says. He stands there stubbornly until Zayn scoots himself over a couple of feet on the sofa.
Zayn clenches his jaw and stares just past Liam’s shoulder. The trick to a really good smolder is to focus on a point far off in the distance.
It takes a good moment, but eventually Liam goes pink and storms off, shouting, “I’m sending Niall in there to supervise.”
Niall comes bounding in a few minutes later. He throws himself into the space between Zayn and Harry, parting his legs to hook each knee over one of Zayn and one of Harry’s thighs.
“How are we doing then?” Niall asks, using both hands to pat each of their stomachs simultaneously.
“Niall,” Harry says pitifully, drooping to rest his head on Niall’s shoulder.
“Stay strong, Haz,” Liam yells from the front of the bus.
“I’m fine, too,” Zayn says, huffing.
“We know you’re fine,” Liam says, jogging back to pop his head in the doorway. “I’m a little suspicious about that, if I’m honest.”
“Do you want to feel my dick?” Zayn asks, gesturing down at his crotch. “You’re being an asshat and it’s still hard. I’m not fucking cheating.”
“I’ll feel,” Niall volunteers quickly.
“Harry should feel,” Liam says, clasping his hands together.
“No, Zayn should feel Harry’s dick,” Louis says as he suddenly appears in the doorway beside Liam. He points at Harry and mouths, You’re going down.
“Umm,” Harry says.
“No dick touching,” Zayn decides. He stands, smiles sweetly at Niall, dirtily at Harry and innocently at Liam and Louis as he passes between them.
This contest would be easier if he didn’t have to pretend like he wasn’t in it to win it. Zayn wants to win and he doesn’t want anyone to know that he tried. He doesn’t want anyone else to know how impossible it feels -- even more difficult because they’re the reason why he’s having trouble in the first place.
It would be exhausting if not for the constant raging boner that is Zayn’s new best friend. Everyone else in the group is the worst. He hates them and he hates his boner, but he also loves his boner because it’s the only thing in this world that understands his pain.
--
Day Seventeen
Zayn thought about losing a lot at first. Not about just giving up, like Niall did and Harry keeps claiming he wants to do, but just that somehow he wouldn’t be able to do it. He didn’t say anything, and the longer he went without saying anything, the more everyone else seemed to think he could do it. And somehow the days keeps passing and he keeps not-losing, so obviously there’s something to that.
He wouldn’t mind if the days would pass a little slower, though. Especially at night, when his dick doesn’t think he should go to sleep and ignore it all night long. He’s already ignored it all day. His dick doesn’t think that’s fair.
There might have been a point in time when Zayn didn’t have to constantly negotiate with his dick, but that time is not now. He climbs out of his bunk and pads down the aisle to the back lounge.
It’s quiet and all the lights are off in the rest of the bus, so he doesn’t expect to find anyone back there.
Clearly Louis and Niall do not also plan on being found, given that Louis’s trousers are around his ankles and Niall’s knelt between his legs. Zayn can only see the back of his head, but it’s obvious what they’re doing.
They haven’t noticed him yet and he lingers at the door. Louis’s eyes are open and he’s staring down at Niall with on hand threaded through Niall’s hair and the other fisted into the couch cushion. He’s holding the couch rather a lot more tightly than he’s holding Niall’s hair, which would be sweet except for all of the horrible sounds Niall keeps making.
There are the usual wet sounds of sucking, but rougher. They’re really fucking dirty, especially with the way Niall keeps choking. He gags, but the noise is muffled by Louis’s dick, which makes it sound all wet and gurgly. Zayn’s dick really enjoys those noises, but Zayn’s dick also wants retaliation for all its suffering and really cannot be trusted.
“You’re hurting him,” Zayn blurts out after Niall bobs down a little deeper and has to pull back with a truly awful retch.
Louis goes wide eyed, finally noticing Zayn lurking in the doorway, and Niall twists his head around but stays on his knees.
“I just -- heard,” Zayn says. “I was,” he flaps his hand and tries not to appear like he’s staring at the swollen wet curve of Niall’s mouth, “just over there, but then I. Heard.”
Louis’s dick is flushed red and straining against his belly. Zayn can see it now that it’s not in Niall’s mouth. Louis makes no move to cover it as he stares back at Zayn.
“I’ve got the worst gag reflex,” Niall says. “It’s alright, I still like it.”
“Oh,” Zayn says. He rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Carry on then.”
“Are you going to stay and watch?” Louis asks. His voice is harsh but that might just be because of how hard his dick is.
“You want me to do you?” Niall asks.
Louis cuffs him gently on the back of his head.
“After you’re done, obviously,” Niall amends.
“We want Harry to lose, remember?” Louis says. “Zayn’s meant to take Harry out.”
“So you can do Harry.”
“I already tried that,” Louis says darkly.
Niall strokes his thigh soothingly and then gets distracted stroking his dick, which quickly leads to him opening his mouth around Louis’s cock again.
He really does have a terrible gag reflex.
Zayn’s cock is a dirty traitor for finding that so hot. As soon as they are interacting again, he’s going to have to sort himself out.
Or let Niall sort him out.
Zayn watches for another long minute. Now that Louis knows he’s there, he keeps looking back and forth between Zayn and Niall. His hand is tighter in Niall’s hair now. He might -- it looks like he’s going to come. Zayn’s breath catches but he doesn’t trust himself with what might come after, so he forces himself to walk away.
That’s the worst part of all this. Well, no orgasms are the worst part, but the other worst part is having to hide from everyone all the time. He can put on a show for a little while, but he knows that if he stays around any of them too long, it will be totally obvious how much he wants them.
And admitting it is the first step to losing, so instead he just climbs back into his bunk where he’s alone with his angry dick.
--
It takes him a long time to fall asleep and then just like that it’s daytime again. Everyone else is already up when Zayn makes himself a cup of tea. Harry sit at the table wearing only grey briefs which do nothing to hide the thick line of his cock. He didn’t even know they made pants that seethrough.
“Alright?” Zayn asks. His voice is rough from sleep and he does nothing to try to smooth it out.
“Paul said I wasn’t allowed to be naked in front of everyone.”
“You’re certainly obeying the letter of the law,” Zayn says. He’s got a little gunk caught in the corner of his eye, so he lifts the bottom of his shirt to wipe it away.
When he pulls it back down again, Harry is glaring.
“Liam said he’d give me a blowjob if I won, so don’t try anything,” Harry says warningly.
“I’d never,” Zayn says. He drops his hand to rest on the counter behind him and angles his shoulder forward in a way that he knows juts out the line of his collarbone. He’s switched to wearing wide-necked shirts lately. Just in case.
Harry purses his lips and then scoots his hips forward in the chair and straightens his legs out in front of himself. Like this, he’s one endless stretch of bare skin, interrupted only by the soft grey cotton pulled tight over his cock.
Zayn quirks his mouth and squints at a point in the distance behind Harry’s shoulder.
“It is first thing in the morning,” Louis thunders as he stomps into the room. “People have to be able to have their tea. We are only human beings.”
“Have mine,” Zayn says, sliding the cup across the counter toward Louis and then walking away. He moves slowly and reaches out the tips of his fingers to trail across Harry’s bare thigh as he passes.
Harry whimpers.
Zayn manages to keep the same smile plastered to his face for the entire walk down the bus (which does as he intended because Liam goes suddenly pink when Zayn brushes past him) and then he walks into the bathroom, locks the door, turns the tap on full blast cold and shoves his entire face under the stream of water.
It doesn’t count if no one sees.
--
Zayn goes into the hotel once they finish the concert. He loves the bus, but tonight he needs strong water pressure and a telly to himself more than he needs the comfort of familiarity.
He showers for half an hour until he’s pink and pruney and then pulls on soft trackies and a worn t-shirt that might have originally come from Louis’s suitcase. The duvet is an annoying, swishy fabric, so he pulls it off the bed and then curls up with a book, the telly playing softly as background noise. If he were back in his own home, it would be the perfect evening.
If he were back in his own home and three orgasms in it would be the perfect evening. Once, when he was fifteen, he spent the entire day wanking just to see how many times he could come. He made it up to four before the friction got to be too much. He could probably beat that record now.
He scrubs his feet against the sheet and tries to stop thinking about his dick, which is sort of the same as thinking about his dick. He has to think about his dick to remember not to think about his dick.
His brain used to work better than this, he’s pretty sure.
He’s just about to turn the telly up when there’s a loud pounding at the door.
Zayn looks through the peephole, but it’s just Louis with his nostril pressed up against the glass.
“We’ve come up with a plan,” Louis says when Zayn opens the door, pushing past him. Liam and Niall follow, with Harry sandwiched between them.
Zayn waits in the center of the hotel room while the rest of the boys form a half circle around him.
“Harry’s going to get arrested for public indecency, so enough is enough. You two see who can get the other one off the fastest.”
Zayn’s not sure what to say, so he tilts his head to the side and squints at Louis.
“It’ll be fair that way. Whoever comes first loses.”
“And you lads are here to -- ?” Zayn asks.
Louis trades glances back and forth with Niall and Liam before shrugging.
“To judge the winner,” says Louis.
“Make sure everyone plays fair,” Liam offers.
“Just to watch,” Niall says.
“Now, go,” Louis says, giving Harry a shove towards Zayn.
“You really want to do this?” Zayn asks when Harry gets close enough.
He expects Harry to do one of his noncommittal shrugs, like, sure, he’s up for anything, just like always, but instead he hisses, “Yes,” with enough intensity that Zayn takes a half step backwards before catching himself.
“Yeah?” Zayn echos.
“I’m dying,” Harry says, already pulling his shirt over his head. “I’ve already died and this is hell, maybe. Take your trousers off.”
“Or I can just -- “ Zayn helps Harry push his jeans the rest of the way down. His cock bobs up immediately, deep red and already wet at the tip when Zayn wraps his hand around him.
“Oh god,” Harry whimpers, curling in on himself and making a broken, guttural sound like nothing Zayn has ever heard before.
He pants raggedly and then makes an heroic attempt to rally, reaching out his shaking hand. He tries to slide his fingers into Zayn’s trackies, but Zayn intercepts his hand easily and tightens his own grip on Harry’s cock.
Harry’s dick jumps as he starts fucking into Zayn’s grip in counterpoint to the long, twisting pulls of Zayn working him over. He’s wet enough that Zayn doesn’t even have to spit in his hand, just smears the precome up the length of Harry’s shaft, using the remaining friction to make it raw. His thumb slides along Harry’s slit on each upstroke.
Harry makes a garbled sound and falls forward, and Zayn catches him with his other arm while Harry starts to come, stuttering over a broken sound that might have started out as a word but now sounds like a sob. Zayn keeps his hand tight around Harry’s cock to wring him through orgasm. He can feel the way Harry’s whole body heaves with each pulse, hard enough that Zayn’s almost worried for him. He tightens his grip on Harry’s shoulder and braces himself to support more of Harry’s weight while Harry slumps forward.
“Jesus Christ,” Zayn hears from somewhere in the background, and, right. They’re not alone.
“Harry,” Louis scolds, enough though his voice is noticeably raspy. “You didn’t even try.”
“I told you I wanted to forfeit,” Harry says, still twitching through what seem to be endless aftershocks.
“Damnit, Zayn,” Liam grumps breathlessly.
Zayn’s still holding Harry, who’s boneless but slowly coming to enough to nuzzle at Zayn, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his neck. Zayn jerks at the first tease of the tip of his tongue and has to grit his teeth when Harry sucks gently at the spot just under his ear. Harry’s come is still sticky on his hand but he doesn’t care about that now, grabbing desperately at Harry’s back and trying to pull him in closer. He closes his eyes.
“Zayn won,” he hears Louis say.
“And I guess it was fair,” says Liam.
Zayn panics, because what if this means they’re going to leave now? What if they all leave now? He doesn’t actually know what he’d do with himself if they left him. Probably start begging, which seems like a reasonable course of action now, but might be a bit embarrassing tomorrow.
But then Niall, thank god for Niall, says, “Fucking finally,” and rushes across the room.
Niall comes up and Zayn twists blindly towards him, moaning gratefully when Niall seals their mouths together. He kisses like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted, and Zayn’s head spins with it.
His knees buckle and he has to open his eyes to righten himself. Louis is standing just behind Niall, now, and Liam closes the little bit of distance left until he’s right up against Zayn’s other side and then they’re all pressed together, so many hands that Zayn can’t even keep track of who’s stroking up the back of his neck and who’s reaching down into his trackies.
Zayn’s had threesomes and moresomes before. At first it was just because he could, but this, this feeling of being touched by so many hands, surrounded by the heat of so many other bodies. This is the best feeling in the world.
“Is this really happening?” Zayn asks. He has goosebumps everywhere, even places where they’re not touching him, and he’s overwhelmed and oversensitized already.
“Yeah, babe,” Louis says. “You held off for such a long time.”
“Yeah,” Zayn echoes, except that his voice cracks halfway through.
Louis smiles so sweetly and lifts up on his toes to push his face closer, as much as he can get with Niall between them.
Zayn leans forward the rest of the way to get at Louis’s kiss, the two of them meeting over Niall’s shoulder. And then Niall drops to his knees and it’s even easier to reach Louis’s mouth. Harry does the same and suddenly there are two sets of hands pulling his cock out of his trackies and Zayn has to blink back tears with how good it is to finally be touched.
Harry licks at the head of Zayn’s cock, licks at Niall’s mouth, stretched open as he slides his tongue along the side of Zayn’s dick. It’s a tease, the two of them working like this without properly sucking, so Zayn really can’t be blamed for the helpless noises he’s making. He can’t stop shaking.
“It’s alright,” Liam whispers in his ear, and Zayn twists towards him, leaving Louis to nip his way down the other side of Zayn’s neck.
“‘m sorry I got you out,” Zayn mumbles and then he whimpers when Louis uses.his teeth
Liam says, “You can make it up to me,” and then fits their mouths together, kissing him deeply right off, all tongue and teeth and suction and god. Zayn wouldn’t still be standing except for the strong arm Liam’s got wrapped around his back and the firm grip of Louis reaching around to grab at his other hip.
“You’re being mean,” Louis says, in a way that sounds mostly like approval, as he peers down at Niall and Harry, snogging frantically around the head of Zayn’s cock. He reaches for Harry’s hair, grabs a handful and twists until Harry makes a low, throaty sound and edges Niall away so that he can slide his mouth down Zayn’s dick, proper.
Zayn keeps breaking out of the kiss with Liam to watch but he has to close his eyes when Harry pulls off and lets Niall take his place. The wet choking sounds are even louder when they’re around his own cock.
“Oh god,” Zayn says, swaying enough that Liam has to tighten his grip before they all end up on the floor.
“Is it everything you wanted?” Louis asks, skritching his fingers across the top of Niall’s head.
Niall hums, mh hm, before choking again. Zayn feels like he’s going to choke with how hard it’s getting to breathe, his entire body strung so, so tight that it’s taking every ounce of brain power he’s got left just to stay upright.
Niall pulls back for a breath and Harry takes over. He opens his jaw wide and takes Zayn all the way down and it’s so good that Zayn’s eyes start leaking a little. It’s good and it’s too much, too much to have all this after the endless stretch of nothing. Zayn jolts against the incredible pressure of Harry swallowing around the head of his cock, and that’s it, that’s it, he’s done.
He would have warned him but everything goes dark and quiet as he comes. There’s the full body rush of relief and good, so good he doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to take it, and when he blinks his eyes open again, he’s sat on the floor and Niall’s licking come off Harry’s cheek.
“Messy,” Louis says, settling beside Zayn on the floor.
All of Zayn’s limbs feel a million miles away and his head is filled with cotton fluff.
Liam’s foot is under Zayn’s thigh, so Zayn must have taken him down with him, but Liam doesn’t look too bothered, leaning in for another kiss when Zayn turns to face him. It’s easier when they’re kissing; Zayn’s body starts to feel real again as he sucks on Liam’s tongue.
He kisses Liam and then Louis and Harry, who’s hard again and the only one of them who’s fully naked. Niall throws himself at Zayn when it’s his turn and sends Zayn sprawling back on the floor, which is actually nice, because it means that Niall can crawl over him and give him this full-bodied snog that ends with him trying to rub off against Zayn’s hip.
In the background, Zayn can hear Harry gasp and say, “I thought it was just if I won,” and then Liam mutters something that Zayn can’t hear over Harry’s low moan.
He pulls away from the kiss long enough to look over Niall’s shoulder and see Liam sucking Harry’s dick while Harry arches off the ground, pushing up with needy little jerks of his hips.
It’s hot and Zayn gasps and then Niall’s leaning in for another kiss.
“This will work better if you take your jeans off,” Louis says.
Niall grumbles, but allows himself to be peeled off Zayn long enough for Louis to get his jeans and pants down.
“You too,” Zayn says and then he and Niall watch, rapt, as Louis strips down.
His tan stands out even darker against the pale of Niall’s skin and Zayn touches them both wherever he can reach as they settle on top of him, kissing each other deeply. They kiss each each other and they kiss him and then they kiss each other again until Zayn’s hard and his lips ache and still he tilts up for another kiss whenever one of their mouths is free. He spent so much time trying to look like he didn’t want anyone, but he does. He wants them all, all of the time.
He’s kissing Louis when Niall suddenly blurts out, “Oh, fuck me,” and they break the kiss to look at him.
Zayn doesn’t realize that Niall’s actually asking for it until he sees the look on Louis’s face and Niall says, “Louis, please.”
Louis bites down on his own lower lip for a long moment and then nods.
“Got stuff for it in my bag,” Zayn says quietly. They’re both more of top of him than anything else but he feels like an intruder for half a moment. It’s gone quickly when Niall darts in for a fast, hard kiss before he leaps up and crosses the room.
He comes back with Zayn’s entire bag, and drops it on the floor before launching himself at them.
Louis laughs and rolls him away while Zayn roots around for the lube. Louis gets Niall pinned and by the time Zayn has found the lube, Louis’s fucking his tongue into Niall’s mouth, these slow dirty flashes of pink that Zayn can see.
Zayn skims his hand down Louis’s back gently and waits until Louis lifts up from Niall’s mouth with one last bite to Niall’s swollen lower lip.
“Easier on the bed,” Zayn says. He’s still getting these weird little jolts that couldn’t possibly be aftershocks but sort of feel like that, so he’s happy that he’ll just get to watch. It would be too much to be caught between them right now.
“Good lad,” Louis says, taking the lube from him. He crawls over Niall and kisses Zayn again before standing up and offering one of his hands to each of them, and then they’re all standing and crowding against each other in the race to the bed.
Niall gets there first and crawls up, immediately spreading himself out in the center of the bed.
Louis hangs back a moment, his fingers ghosting over Zayn’s lower back. Zayn looks over his shoulder and Louis whispers, “He’s not done this before.”
Zayn nods and leans backwards until he can butt the side of his head up against Louis’s cheek, reaching for Louis’s hand and pulling him up onto the bed as well.
“We can take care of Nialler, can’t we?” Zayn says, and Louis nods while Niall beams up at both of them.
Zayn watches as Niall spreads his legs to make room for Louis and then he stretches himself out at the foot of the bed, dropping his head over the side of the mattress so that he can dangle down to where Liam and Harry are still tangled together on the floor.
Harry’s mouth is dropped open as he pants up at the ceiling while Liam works over him with both hands and his pink, pink mouth.
“Just imagine what he would have done if you won,” Zayn says gently, and Harry looks over at him, eyebrows twisted in confusion for a brief moment before he huffs out a laugh.
“Yeah,” he says, and then gasps. “Just -- think.”
Zayn reaches over to rub his knuckles over Liam’s shoulder, the only part of him he can reach from up on the bed. Liam lifts one of his hands away from Harry’s cock to catch Zayn’s fingers in a warm squeeze before he lets go and cups Harry’s balls.
Harry’s eyes roll back in his head.
Niall makes a noise from up on the bed and Zayn turns himself back around. Louis’s got two fingers inside of him and he’s twisting them in a short slide back and forth that has Niall groaning.
“I’ve got a condom,” Zayn says, reaching for his bag again.
Louis says, “Cheers,” when he sees the foil in Zayn’s hand. He tries to grab it with the hand he doesn’t have in Niall’s arse, but Zayn just tears it open himself.
He comes up behind Louis and reaches for his cock, the rubber pinched between two fingers. It’s a bit awkward to do blind but he manages to roll it down, and he gives Louis a few long strokes once it’s in place. The lube from the condom already feels tacky in his palm, so he grabs the bottle off the bed and smears on a new handful, pulling at Louis’s cock until Niall finally says, “Oi, there. Save that for me.”
Zayn smothers his laugh in the back of Louis’s shoulder and lets go after another long squeeze. He stretches out beside Niall, curling into his side with his calf hooked under Niall’s knee.
“How are you doing then?” Zayn asks. He feels a little giddy, but Niall just smiles right back at him, laughing when Zayn presses kisses all across Niall’s face.
Niall’s fringe is sweaty against his forehead, so Zayn pets it away, and then he leaves his fingers to stroke over Niall’s flushed cheeks.
“Good,” Niall says. Then, again, “Louis, I’m good.”
There’s a pause while they sort themselves out. Zayn passes Louis a pillow to tuck under Niall’s hips and moves further up the bed so there’s room for Louis to push Niall’s legs back.
Zayn wants to see, but he wants to watch Niall’s face even more, so he stays where he is. Niall’s mouth drops open in a silent gasp as Louis starts to push inside and then he cringes, his face twisting up.
“It’s alright,” Zayn murmurs, stroking at Niall’s cheeks with the backs of his fingers. “Just push back into him. There you go.”
“Is he okay,” Louis asks, sounding slightly panicked. “Niall, are you okay? Zayn?”
Niall nods into Zayn’s hand and Zayn says, “Yeah, he’s good. Give him a little more.”
Louis must push forward because Niall’s head tips backwards and his eyes scrunch shut. He looks totally overwhelmed, and Louis isn’t even fucking him yet. Zayn feels totally overwhelmed, and no one’s even touching him.
But he can, finally. After eons of watching and having to keep his hands to himself, now he gets to touch.
Zayn runs his hand down Niall’s chest, pausing to flick over both of his nipples, until he reaches Niall’s cock. He’s hard but he grows even harder in Zayn’s hand. He gets noisier, too, mumbling nonsense and squirming against Zayn’s hand on his dick and Louis’s hands on his thighs.
“You want Louis to fuck you now?” Zayn asks, circling his thumb around the leaking head of Niall’s cock.
“Yeah, yes, yeah,” Niall chants. “Fuck me now.”
Zayn looks over at Louis, who seems almost as flushed and overwhelmed as Niall, and grins. He’s waited, but it seems like they’ve been waiting, too. And finally they can all have each other.
Louis lets out a little giggle and tries to balance Niall’s thigh with his knee so that he can free a hand to reach out to Zayn. He can’t quite manage, so Zayn crawls over instead. He pushes a piece of Louis’s hair behind his ear and then wraps his arm around Louis’s shoulder, hugging him sideways.
It’s good to be close to Louis, who’s always plotting but likes it best when everyone else is there to help him. Plus, now that he’s up like this, he can see the thick stretch of Louis’s cock buried in Niall’s ass.
“Doing good, Nialler,” Zayn says. He leaves one arm strung ‘round Louis’s shoulder and touches at Niall’s wet hole with his other fingers, sliding around in the extra lube. He rubs at the spot where Niall and Louis meet, pets at the insides of Niall’s thighs, cups his balls and squeezes carefully until Niall’s cock jerks. It’s gone all dribbly and it smears against Zayn’s palm when he rubs a slow hand across the head.
“Oh crap,” Niall says as his legs start to twitch. “Oh god, just start fucking me, okay? Just -- I’m going to--”
It’s difficult for Louis to move with Zayn pressed up beside him like this, so Zayn gives him one slow kiss and then moves away to settle beside Niall on the bed again. He waits until Louis has a good rhythm going and he’s fucking Niall hard and steady, pushing low sounds out of Niall with each thrust of this hips. And then he grabs Niall’s cock again. He pulls him off hard and fast and it takes hardly any time at all before Niall shoots off, coming all over Zayn’s hand and up his own chest.
Louis goes frantic with it, screwing in deep and coming as well. Zayn watches the helpless way he pushes into Niall while he comes. His arse flexes as he jerks through it, and somehow it’s even dirtier than it was to see his dick splitting Niall open. Louis is coming in Niall’s arse.
They’re both clumsy afterward, making a mess as they paw at each other until they’ve got their limbs sorted out again.
Zayn passes Louis a tissue from the side table to wrap the condom, surprised when he sees Liam and Harry crowded together at the very foot of the bed.
“Good show,” Harry says. He looks wrecked, but he offers a shaky thumbs up, which Niall returns immediately.
Liam’s still wearing his trousers. Zayn reaches over and tugs at the fabric, clucking his tongue at Harry.
“We got distracted,” Harry says.
“My turn, then?” Zayn asks. He runs his hand up Liam’s thigh until he reaches the hard line of his cock, which he squeezes.
“See?” Zayn says as he slowly works Liam through his trousers. “I’m not so bad.”
“You’re the worst,” Liam says, but in a way where it sounds like a compliment.
He sprawls out on the bed when Zayn gives him a little shove.
Zayn settles between his legs, opens the flies of his trousers and pulls his cock out of the hole in his pants. He could just strip him down entirely, but there’s something about this that he likes -- sucking off a bloke when only his cock is bare.
Liam’s close even before Zayn starts and his dick is salty from where it’s been smearing around in his pants. He smells really fucking good. He’s careful about keeping his hands to himself and mostly holds still, except when Zayn sucks sharply at the head and Liam’s dick gives a little jerk upward like he can’t even help himself.
He cups Zayn’s neck after that and strokes his thumb across the soft bit of skin just behind Zayn’s ear, which tickles, but not enough for Zayn to stop. Zayn’s probably not normally ticklish behind his ear, but every touch feels magnified by ten thousand right now. Even the occasional brush of his dick against the sheets is enough to lock up his spine.
He works his mouth faster, keeps up a steady suction that makes Liam grunt and then groan and then come so hard his thighs start shaking.
Zayn swallows and tucks him back in his pants, leaving his trousers undone when he pulls away.
“Once again,” Louis says sternly, “Zayn is the last one still hard.”
Zayn laughs but Louis is already wrapping his hand around Zayn’s dick and he cuts off quickly. He’s kneeling on the bed and Louis is kneeling in front of him so they’re face to face as Louis wanks him off, his hand moving quickly between them. Zayn drops his head to rest his forehead on Louis’s shoulder because it’s too much to look Louis in the eye while they’re doing this. It’s already too good.
“You don’t have to pretend you don’t want it anymore,” Louis says, running his other hand down the back of Zayn’s head. He leaves his palm at the base of Zayn’s skull, just holding him, and it’s grounding. Zayn moans weakly into Louis’s shoulder.
Harry comes over and drapes himself across Zayn’s back. He’s naked and warm and mostly just sliding his wet lips across the top of Zayn’s spine but somehow it’s enough to make Zayn’s toes curl. Every touch is too much with how sensitive Zayn feels, but he likes it like this -- when it’s too much and he gets to lose himself in the rush of it all.
Niall noses in and kisses at Zayn’s cheek until Zayn lifts his head and then Niall kisses at Zayn’s mouth. Liam, flopped on the bed beside him, strokes up and down Zayn’s thigh with one huge hand, and they’re all silly and mostly useless from coming already, but it’s still so good that Zayn thinks he might start laughing but instead he closes his eyes and comes.
--
In Conclusion
“So now that that’s done,” Louis says, “can the condom culprit please fess up?”
Niall snorts. “Yeah, after all that.”
“I’ve been wondering,” Liam agrees.
“Oh, yeah,” Harry says slowly. “I’d forgotten about that.”
“So?” Zayn says leadingly.
They all look around the room.
“After everything we’ve been through?” Louis laments. “And you’re still a bunch of filthy liars.”
“Only one in the bunch is a filthy liar,” Niall says. He makes careful eye contact with each other person, wiggling his eyebrows meaningfully before moving on to the next. “Yeah, he says, once he’s finished eyeing everyone. “I can’t tell.”
“Louis,” Zayn says carefully. “Remember when we were having the water balloon fight? Like about three weeks ago.”
“Yeah,” Louis says.
“Right before balloons were banned from the tour,” Liam says. “That was fun.”
“And when you ran out of balloons, what did you switch to?” Zayn asks.
“I tried condoms,” Louis says. “But they didn’t work. They don’t explode when you throw them at people. Good to know that all of our willies are protected, I guess.”
“Right, and after you finished bludgeoning Liam with a water condom, what did you do with it?”
Louis shrugs.
“You untied it and dumped the water on my head,” Liam says. “I was very wet.”
“And then what did you do with it?” Zayn asks, staring intently at Louis.
“I don’t know,” Louis says. “Probably chucked it somewhere.”
“Lou,” Zayn says, pointedly.
“What?” Louis asks. “What?”
Then: “Oh god.”