Can I get tech support in here, please? (NC-17, Harry/Nick)
Title: Can I get tech support in here please?
Pairing: Harry/Nick Grimshaw
Word count: 2862
Rating: NC-17
Warnings; buttsex, but if I have to warn you for that, you probably shouldn't be reading anything on my journal :)
Summary: The one where Harry goes to Germany for a day and accidentally tells Nick something important via text message, only Nick has decided it would be a great day to install the iOS6 update on his iPhone. Inspired by this picture of Harry being "broody and pensive" in Germany on Saturday :)
Disclaimer; To the best of my knowledge, this is completely false, a complete work of fiction. If you are (or know) any of the people mentioned, you should stop reading now.
Thanks, as always, to ladauphineff and coolbreeeze for their help. Your suggestions are invaluable and this just wouldn't be the same without them :) Also thanks to badjujuboo for being my cheerleader in all my writing adventures <3
And now, for part three in the continuing adventures of Harry and Nick, because apparently this is my thing now.
The thing is, Harry’s not clingy. At least, he tries not to be. It’s just that this thing with him and Nick is still pretty new, still undefined, and he has all these feelings that he doesn’t know what to do with. They’ve really only been seeing each other for about a month, but they’ve been friends for so long. He just. Well. He loves him.
He knows it’s fast, and he knows it seems kind of crazy, especially considering their schedules and lifestyles. Add to that the endless stream of paparazzi that seems to follow Harry wherever he goes, and well, the odds are sort of stacked against them having a long-term relationship. The paps coverage of Nick has been increasing as well, since the announcement of his promotion hit the papers this summer. Nick takes it all in stride, but Harry knows what it means. They’ll follow Nick everywhere, go through his trash, question his neighbors. Privacy is a thing of the past.
It’s taken a lot of effort on Harry’s part to not just blurt his heart out every time Nick looks at him fondly or traces circles on his hipbones, spooned up behind him in bed at night. Harry’s always been shit at hiding his feelings, his face like an open book, but he doesn’t want to scare Nick off or make things awkward between them. So he bites his tongue and takes all the affection Nick gives him, savoring whatever time they might have together.
It’s always hard to leave (even for just a short time) when they’ve been wrapped up in each other for a day or two. Hard to leave the warmth of Nick’s bed, to know he won’t see his face or feel his touch for at least twenty-four hours. It feels like a cruel form of torture, especially after all the time they’ve been apart the last couple of weeks. Nick sends him out the door with a dirty, lingering kiss and a cup of tea. Tells him, Go conquer the world, popstar, and waves, smiling wistfully as Harry steps into the lift and lets the door close behind him.
He’s not surprised to get a text before he gets on the plane. Most of their time apart is spent texting back and forth, or having brief phone conversations whenever Harry can find a few moments and a modicum of privacy. This one says, Tell Louis I said hi :), and Harry stifles a laugh, shoots back a quick be nice :P, and turns his phone off for the short flight to Cologne.
There are several more texts waiting for him when the band’s plane lands in Germany, and he can’t help but laugh at some of the absolutely ridiculous things Nick sends him. He’s replying to them as he goes, and almost chokes when he opens one that says, Amiee just posted a photo of my ‘chunky bucket’ on instagram :(. Before he even realizes what he’s done, Harry types God, I love you! and hits send.
Fuck.
A few minutes go by and there’s been no reply from Nick, which is sort of unusual. Harry’s trying not to have a full on freak-out, because, well. Okay. He’s maybe in a bit of a panic.
His heart starts to race because this was not the way he wanted to tell Nick that he loved him. He wanted to at least be face to face (or at worst, on the phone), but this? A text message sent from hundreds of miles away with no way to gauge Nick’s reaction? This is not at all what Harry had pictured. He imagined saying it during one of his nightly visits to Radio 1, just as Nick was about to go back on air. Imagined saying it in such a way that the words would hang there, Nick stunned but beaming as he’d try to compose himself to queue up the next record. Of course he’d start giggling halfway through the introduction, giving up and just pressing play. He’d smile at Harry then, removing his headphones before pulling him in close for a kiss. ‘Love you more, popstar,’ Nick would whisper in his ear just as the record was coming to an end. They’d spend the rest of the evening just out of view of the in-studio webcam, making out between songs, with Nick barely able to pull himself away when Fincham gives him the ‘on-air’ signal.
But he never did any of that, because it was too soon. And now he slipped up and told Nick anyway. He stares at his phone, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come.
Um, any chance my last text didn’t go through? Or are you just trying to think of a way to let me down nicely?
Ten more minutes pass and still no response. And now he’s really worried, because this isn’t like Nick at all, to just not reply to any of Harry’s texts. He contemplates calling him, but he’s in the middle of a bloody photo shoot, and just, he’s not sure he’s capable of talking to Nick right now. Fuck.
He makes it through the meet and greet and then the signing, managing to joke around with the boys and smile for pictures with the fans. He tries not to think about the mess he’s possibly made with Nick because he’s got a job to do, and he’s bloody well going to do it. They have about an hour after the event before their car arrives, and Harry manages to find a quiet spot where he can sit and properly chastise himself for his slip up. He sends one more text, just saying, I’m sorry if I freaked you out. Now I’m freaked out. Can we just pretend it never happened? He’s never felt more like a teenage girl than he does right now, except he’s not a teenage girl. He’s Harry fucking Styles.
Their plane lands back in London around half-five, and he ends up watching telly at Louis’ place because everyone else is, and quite frankly, he doesn’t really want to be alone with his thoughts right now. He’s still not heard from Nick and it’s taking great effort on his part to not send him text after text, begging forgiveness for his untimely confession.
It’s nearly nine when he feels his phone vibrate against his thigh, causing him to scramble off Louis’ sofa, where he’s been curled up with Niall for the better part of an hour.
I just saw the most delicious picture of you on the internet. Says it was taken today in Germany. You look all broody and pensive. Care to share what was on your mind?
Harry types out a quick, I think we should probably talk? In person?
You have a key, love. I’ll be waiting.
It takes him about a half hour, but when he lets himself into the flat, Nick is waiting for him in the kitchen with a hot cup of tea, made just the way he likes it. Harry stands there awkwardly, not sure where Nick’s head is at, and that’s really the worst part of all this. Not that he said, ‘I love you’, but that he has no idea if Nick feels the same.
“So,” Nick says with a grin. “The craziest thing happened to me today. See, I decided that today, of all days, would be the perfect time to do that iOS6 update on my phone.” It’s like any of Nick’s stories, his face animated in a way that draws you in, his hand flailing about for emphasis. It's endearing, like everything Nick does, but it confuses Harry. He thought they were going to talk about Harry's blunder.
“As it turns out," Nick continues, "this update takes, like, forever to finish, and then there were all these problems when it was done, and I spent most of the afternoon online with tech support, trying to get it fixed.”
His expression is softer now, like he’s coming to the point of his story, only he’s not looking for a laugh this time. He moves closer to Harry, clears his throat, and reaches out to take the cup of tea from Harry’s hand, placing it on the counter behind him.
“It was only about an hour ago that I finally got it all sorted,” Nick says quietly. “And there were all these text messages and such that had been collecting all day that I hadn’t even read yet.” He’s looking at Harry now, but Harry’s staring at the floor, trying to gather the courage to look Nick in the eye.
He feels Nick’s hand, large and warm against the side of his face, his voice low and rough when he asks, “Did you mean it?”
Harry looks up then, meeting Nick’s gaze, swallows hard and nods. “I thought. I thought you were upset with me. That you were maybe ignoring my texts.”
Nick presses in close, rests his forehead against Harry’s and kisses him once, twice in quick succession. “I love you too, you bloody wanker,” he says, laughing, his eyes a bit wild like he can't believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. “I almost blurted it out the day you left for the VMA’s, but it was so soon."
"You...really?" Harry stutters, eyes on Nick's and hands encircling his wrists where he's cupping Harry's face. And Harry knows, this is a game changer- knows just from chatting with Nick's friends that he's never really been in love. He's never been serious about anyone before, choosing one night stands or friends-with-benefits arrangements over romantic entanglements. Just the fact that he's even here with Harry, saying the words, brings this thing between them to a whole new level all together.
Nick smiles, the big, goofy smile he saves for when something's made him very happy, and Harry thinks, oh. He did that. He's the one who put that smile on Nick's face and it's a little overwhelming, knowing he has that affect on him. He presses up on his toes(just a little, because Nick isn't that much taller than he is, but just enough), kissing him chastely at first, then again with more intent. The sound he makes when Nick's tongue probes his mouth should be embarrassing, but Harry can't find it in himself to care, especially when Nick's hands have made their way to his arse, pulling him in for a slow, dirty grind that's quickly sending Harry close to the edge.
"Can we. Can we just go to bed?" Harry asks. He sounds desperate to his own ears, but he needs this. Needs the reassurance that only Nick can offer. "Missed you so much today," he says between kisses. "Need...just need to feel you. Want you."
"Yeah," Nick breathes in his ear, tongue flicking over the lobe and sending a shiver throughout Harry's body. "Yeah, bed sounds really good."
They undress each other slowly, taking time for the gentle touches and reverent kisses they sometimes forsake, too urgent in their need to bother with. Tonight is different, though. Everything feels different now, new. Better. Nick loves him back, and that knowledge makes Harry feel as if his heart will burst with the joy of it.
"It was you," Harry nearly whispers, gasping as Nick presses two slick fingers against the rim of his hole. He takes a deep breath as they slide inside, his voice trembling when he says, "I thought about you all day. I was worried, and I just..."
And he knows, he can tell the instant that Nick understands what he's talking about because he moans out a strangled Harry, bites a bruise into Harry's hip as he crooks his fingers and presses just right.
Then suddenly, they're both frantic, Nick fumbling with the condom, and Harry tangled in the sheets as he tries to get up on all fours. Nick is right there, cockhead nudging at his entrance, and Harry is shaking with the effort to keep himself from just pushing back, getting Nick's dick in him as quickly as possible. He knows from experience that the wait will be worth it, and he's not disappointed.
It burns, but it's the good kind, the slow stretch as Nick spreads him open setting his nerves on fire. They've done this quite a bit, now, and he's still surprised how good it is, the feeling of being filled up and utterly possessed by another person, by Nick. It’ s never been quite like this for him before, but he loves it. Loves that he belongs to Nick just as surely as Nick belongs to him.
He can feel Nick’s hips pressed tightly against him, moving in small circles to try and loosen Harry up a little more. Nick curls himself over Harry’s back, slides his hands around and up over Harry’s chest, gripping the front of his shoulders as he pulls Harry back to sit upright in his lap. And, oh. Oh, God, this is good. He feels like he can’t breathe, he’s so full of Nick and Nick’s hands are all over him and NickNickNickNickNick. His name falls from Harry’s lips like a litany, and Harry only knows he’s said it loud enough to hear when he feels Nick’s breath in his ear, hears is whispered, I’ve got you, love, I’ve got you.
They’re moving now in a slow, grinding rhythm, sensation taking over and Harry has lost complete control of the words coming out of his mouth. It’s a steady stream of fuck me so good, babe and love the way your dick feels inside me, interspersed with tender i love you’s and these high, keening noises that border on sobbing. And through it all, Nick is keeping him grounded, peppering his neck and shoulders with gentle kisses at the same time that his deft fingers are twisting and teasing at Harry’s sensitive nipples. He’s riding the edge, and when Nick smoothes a hand down over Harry’s stomach, wraps those long fingers around his cock, it only takes a few tugs before Harry is spilling hot and wet over Nick’s hand. He can feel his abused muscles spasming around Nick where he’s still buried deep inside Harry’s body. It doesn’t take long, though, before he hears a guttural groan escape Nick’s chest, can feel him spilling into the condom.
They stay like this for a few moments, Nick's cheek pressed flat into the space between Harry's shoulder blades and one arm wrapped firmly around his chest, until he needs to secure the condom as he starts to soften and slip out of Harry's body.
"You alright, babe?" Nick asks, fingers carding gently through Harry's curls as they settle in for a cuddle.
Harry closes his eyes, smiling and opening them again slowly, looking up at Nick through the veil of his damp fringe. "Yeah," he replies, his voice gravelly and rough from overuse. "I just." He pauses, trying to find the right words to describe an indescribable moment. His brain is hazy from the overwhelming orgasm he just had, and he can barelystring two words together. “That was..."
"Bloody brilliant, s'what that was." Nick giggles, fucking giggles, and smiles wide when he says, "If I'd have known the sex would be so amazing, I might've..." He let's his words trail off and just looks at Harry, and it's so intense, Harry can feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He knows what Nick means.
Harry's been in love before, he knows how it feels. But it's so much better when the other person is free (literally and figuratively) to love you back. He's found that now, and he doesn't ever want to let it go. He kisses Nick slow and deep, almost lazily, just because he can.
Nick smiles softly when they break apart, and Harry reaches out to brush a stray hair off of his forehead, offering a dimpled grin in return. "Feel like I won the bloody lottery," Nick teases. "Dream job, fancy car, posh flat. Incredibly hot, popstar boyfriend who loves me. I mean, really, you've hit the jackpot, as well, Styles. How many other lads can say they've shagged the host of the Radio 1 Breakfast show?"
"Well," Harry laughs, "if Jel and Henry are to be believed-"
Nick slaps his hand over Harry's mouth, grinning, and says, "Enough, now, be nice. Let's not go there."
Harry just smiles and presses a sweet kiss on Nick's shoulder. "I love you," he murmurs. "Don't think I've actually said it proper yet, so...yeah. I really do."
"Love you more, superstar."
Pairing: Harry/Nick Grimshaw
Word count: 2862
Rating: NC-17
Warnings; buttsex, but if I have to warn you for that, you probably shouldn't be reading anything on my journal :)
Summary: The one where Harry goes to Germany for a day and accidentally tells Nick something important via text message, only Nick has decided it would be a great day to install the iOS6 update on his iPhone. Inspired by this picture of Harry being "broody and pensive" in Germany on Saturday :)
Disclaimer; To the best of my knowledge, this is completely false, a complete work of fiction. If you are (or know) any of the people mentioned, you should stop reading now.
Thanks, as always, to ladauphineff and coolbreeeze for their help. Your suggestions are invaluable and this just wouldn't be the same without them :) Also thanks to badjujuboo for being my cheerleader in all my writing adventures <3
And now, for part three in the continuing adventures of Harry and Nick, because apparently this is my thing now.
The thing is, Harry’s not clingy. At least, he tries not to be. It’s just that this thing with him and Nick is still pretty new, still undefined, and he has all these feelings that he doesn’t know what to do with. They’ve really only been seeing each other for about a month, but they’ve been friends for so long. He just. Well. He loves him.
He knows it’s fast, and he knows it seems kind of crazy, especially considering their schedules and lifestyles. Add to that the endless stream of paparazzi that seems to follow Harry wherever he goes, and well, the odds are sort of stacked against them having a long-term relationship. The paps coverage of Nick has been increasing as well, since the announcement of his promotion hit the papers this summer. Nick takes it all in stride, but Harry knows what it means. They’ll follow Nick everywhere, go through his trash, question his neighbors. Privacy is a thing of the past.
It’s taken a lot of effort on Harry’s part to not just blurt his heart out every time Nick looks at him fondly or traces circles on his hipbones, spooned up behind him in bed at night. Harry’s always been shit at hiding his feelings, his face like an open book, but he doesn’t want to scare Nick off or make things awkward between them. So he bites his tongue and takes all the affection Nick gives him, savoring whatever time they might have together.
It’s always hard to leave (even for just a short time) when they’ve been wrapped up in each other for a day or two. Hard to leave the warmth of Nick’s bed, to know he won’t see his face or feel his touch for at least twenty-four hours. It feels like a cruel form of torture, especially after all the time they’ve been apart the last couple of weeks. Nick sends him out the door with a dirty, lingering kiss and a cup of tea. Tells him, Go conquer the world, popstar, and waves, smiling wistfully as Harry steps into the lift and lets the door close behind him.
He’s not surprised to get a text before he gets on the plane. Most of their time apart is spent texting back and forth, or having brief phone conversations whenever Harry can find a few moments and a modicum of privacy. This one says, Tell Louis I said hi :), and Harry stifles a laugh, shoots back a quick be nice :P, and turns his phone off for the short flight to Cologne.
There are several more texts waiting for him when the band’s plane lands in Germany, and he can’t help but laugh at some of the absolutely ridiculous things Nick sends him. He’s replying to them as he goes, and almost chokes when he opens one that says, Amiee just posted a photo of my ‘chunky bucket’ on instagram :(. Before he even realizes what he’s done, Harry types God, I love you! and hits send.
Fuck.
A few minutes go by and there’s been no reply from Nick, which is sort of unusual. Harry’s trying not to have a full on freak-out, because, well. Okay. He’s maybe in a bit of a panic.
His heart starts to race because this was not the way he wanted to tell Nick that he loved him. He wanted to at least be face to face (or at worst, on the phone), but this? A text message sent from hundreds of miles away with no way to gauge Nick’s reaction? This is not at all what Harry had pictured. He imagined saying it during one of his nightly visits to Radio 1, just as Nick was about to go back on air. Imagined saying it in such a way that the words would hang there, Nick stunned but beaming as he’d try to compose himself to queue up the next record. Of course he’d start giggling halfway through the introduction, giving up and just pressing play. He’d smile at Harry then, removing his headphones before pulling him in close for a kiss. ‘Love you more, popstar,’ Nick would whisper in his ear just as the record was coming to an end. They’d spend the rest of the evening just out of view of the in-studio webcam, making out between songs, with Nick barely able to pull himself away when Fincham gives him the ‘on-air’ signal.
But he never did any of that, because it was too soon. And now he slipped up and told Nick anyway. He stares at his phone, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come.
Um, any chance my last text didn’t go through? Or are you just trying to think of a way to let me down nicely?
Ten more minutes pass and still no response. And now he’s really worried, because this isn’t like Nick at all, to just not reply to any of Harry’s texts. He contemplates calling him, but he’s in the middle of a bloody photo shoot, and just, he’s not sure he’s capable of talking to Nick right now. Fuck.
He makes it through the meet and greet and then the signing, managing to joke around with the boys and smile for pictures with the fans. He tries not to think about the mess he’s possibly made with Nick because he’s got a job to do, and he’s bloody well going to do it. They have about an hour after the event before their car arrives, and Harry manages to find a quiet spot where he can sit and properly chastise himself for his slip up. He sends one more text, just saying, I’m sorry if I freaked you out. Now I’m freaked out. Can we just pretend it never happened? He’s never felt more like a teenage girl than he does right now, except he’s not a teenage girl. He’s Harry fucking Styles.
Their plane lands back in London around half-five, and he ends up watching telly at Louis’ place because everyone else is, and quite frankly, he doesn’t really want to be alone with his thoughts right now. He’s still not heard from Nick and it’s taking great effort on his part to not send him text after text, begging forgiveness for his untimely confession.
It’s nearly nine when he feels his phone vibrate against his thigh, causing him to scramble off Louis’ sofa, where he’s been curled up with Niall for the better part of an hour.
I just saw the most delicious picture of you on the internet. Says it was taken today in Germany. You look all broody and pensive. Care to share what was on your mind?
Harry types out a quick, I think we should probably talk? In person?
You have a key, love. I’ll be waiting.
It takes him about a half hour, but when he lets himself into the flat, Nick is waiting for him in the kitchen with a hot cup of tea, made just the way he likes it. Harry stands there awkwardly, not sure where Nick’s head is at, and that’s really the worst part of all this. Not that he said, ‘I love you’, but that he has no idea if Nick feels the same.
“So,” Nick says with a grin. “The craziest thing happened to me today. See, I decided that today, of all days, would be the perfect time to do that iOS6 update on my phone.” It’s like any of Nick’s stories, his face animated in a way that draws you in, his hand flailing about for emphasis. It's endearing, like everything Nick does, but it confuses Harry. He thought they were going to talk about Harry's blunder.
“As it turns out," Nick continues, "this update takes, like, forever to finish, and then there were all these problems when it was done, and I spent most of the afternoon online with tech support, trying to get it fixed.”
His expression is softer now, like he’s coming to the point of his story, only he’s not looking for a laugh this time. He moves closer to Harry, clears his throat, and reaches out to take the cup of tea from Harry’s hand, placing it on the counter behind him.
“It was only about an hour ago that I finally got it all sorted,” Nick says quietly. “And there were all these text messages and such that had been collecting all day that I hadn’t even read yet.” He’s looking at Harry now, but Harry’s staring at the floor, trying to gather the courage to look Nick in the eye.
He feels Nick’s hand, large and warm against the side of his face, his voice low and rough when he asks, “Did you mean it?”
Harry looks up then, meeting Nick’s gaze, swallows hard and nods. “I thought. I thought you were upset with me. That you were maybe ignoring my texts.”
Nick presses in close, rests his forehead against Harry’s and kisses him once, twice in quick succession. “I love you too, you bloody wanker,” he says, laughing, his eyes a bit wild like he can't believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. “I almost blurted it out the day you left for the VMA’s, but it was so soon."
"You...really?" Harry stutters, eyes on Nick's and hands encircling his wrists where he's cupping Harry's face. And Harry knows, this is a game changer- knows just from chatting with Nick's friends that he's never really been in love. He's never been serious about anyone before, choosing one night stands or friends-with-benefits arrangements over romantic entanglements. Just the fact that he's even here with Harry, saying the words, brings this thing between them to a whole new level all together.
Nick smiles, the big, goofy smile he saves for when something's made him very happy, and Harry thinks, oh. He did that. He's the one who put that smile on Nick's face and it's a little overwhelming, knowing he has that affect on him. He presses up on his toes(just a little, because Nick isn't that much taller than he is, but just enough), kissing him chastely at first, then again with more intent. The sound he makes when Nick's tongue probes his mouth should be embarrassing, but Harry can't find it in himself to care, especially when Nick's hands have made their way to his arse, pulling him in for a slow, dirty grind that's quickly sending Harry close to the edge.
"Can we. Can we just go to bed?" Harry asks. He sounds desperate to his own ears, but he needs this. Needs the reassurance that only Nick can offer. "Missed you so much today," he says between kisses. "Need...just need to feel you. Want you."
"Yeah," Nick breathes in his ear, tongue flicking over the lobe and sending a shiver throughout Harry's body. "Yeah, bed sounds really good."
They undress each other slowly, taking time for the gentle touches and reverent kisses they sometimes forsake, too urgent in their need to bother with. Tonight is different, though. Everything feels different now, new. Better. Nick loves him back, and that knowledge makes Harry feel as if his heart will burst with the joy of it.
"It was you," Harry nearly whispers, gasping as Nick presses two slick fingers against the rim of his hole. He takes a deep breath as they slide inside, his voice trembling when he says, "I thought about you all day. I was worried, and I just..."
And he knows, he can tell the instant that Nick understands what he's talking about because he moans out a strangled Harry, bites a bruise into Harry's hip as he crooks his fingers and presses just right.
Then suddenly, they're both frantic, Nick fumbling with the condom, and Harry tangled in the sheets as he tries to get up on all fours. Nick is right there, cockhead nudging at his entrance, and Harry is shaking with the effort to keep himself from just pushing back, getting Nick's dick in him as quickly as possible. He knows from experience that the wait will be worth it, and he's not disappointed.
It burns, but it's the good kind, the slow stretch as Nick spreads him open setting his nerves on fire. They've done this quite a bit, now, and he's still surprised how good it is, the feeling of being filled up and utterly possessed by another person, by Nick. It’ s never been quite like this for him before, but he loves it. Loves that he belongs to Nick just as surely as Nick belongs to him.
He can feel Nick’s hips pressed tightly against him, moving in small circles to try and loosen Harry up a little more. Nick curls himself over Harry’s back, slides his hands around and up over Harry’s chest, gripping the front of his shoulders as he pulls Harry back to sit upright in his lap. And, oh. Oh, God, this is good. He feels like he can’t breathe, he’s so full of Nick and Nick’s hands are all over him and NickNickNickNickNick. His name falls from Harry’s lips like a litany, and Harry only knows he’s said it loud enough to hear when he feels Nick’s breath in his ear, hears is whispered, I’ve got you, love, I’ve got you.
They’re moving now in a slow, grinding rhythm, sensation taking over and Harry has lost complete control of the words coming out of his mouth. It’s a steady stream of fuck me so good, babe and love the way your dick feels inside me, interspersed with tender i love you’s and these high, keening noises that border on sobbing. And through it all, Nick is keeping him grounded, peppering his neck and shoulders with gentle kisses at the same time that his deft fingers are twisting and teasing at Harry’s sensitive nipples. He’s riding the edge, and when Nick smoothes a hand down over Harry’s stomach, wraps those long fingers around his cock, it only takes a few tugs before Harry is spilling hot and wet over Nick’s hand. He can feel his abused muscles spasming around Nick where he’s still buried deep inside Harry’s body. It doesn’t take long, though, before he hears a guttural groan escape Nick’s chest, can feel him spilling into the condom.
They stay like this for a few moments, Nick's cheek pressed flat into the space between Harry's shoulder blades and one arm wrapped firmly around his chest, until he needs to secure the condom as he starts to soften and slip out of Harry's body.
"You alright, babe?" Nick asks, fingers carding gently through Harry's curls as they settle in for a cuddle.
Harry closes his eyes, smiling and opening them again slowly, looking up at Nick through the veil of his damp fringe. "Yeah," he replies, his voice gravelly and rough from overuse. "I just." He pauses, trying to find the right words to describe an indescribable moment. His brain is hazy from the overwhelming orgasm he just had, and he can barelystring two words together. “That was..."
"Bloody brilliant, s'what that was." Nick giggles, fucking giggles, and smiles wide when he says, "If I'd have known the sex would be so amazing, I might've..." He let's his words trail off and just looks at Harry, and it's so intense, Harry can feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He knows what Nick means.
Harry's been in love before, he knows how it feels. But it's so much better when the other person is free (literally and figuratively) to love you back. He's found that now, and he doesn't ever want to let it go. He kisses Nick slow and deep, almost lazily, just because he can.
Nick smiles softly when they break apart, and Harry reaches out to brush a stray hair off of his forehead, offering a dimpled grin in return. "Feel like I won the bloody lottery," Nick teases. "Dream job, fancy car, posh flat. Incredibly hot, popstar boyfriend who loves me. I mean, really, you've hit the jackpot, as well, Styles. How many other lads can say they've shagged the host of the Radio 1 Breakfast show?"
"Well," Harry laughs, "if Jel and Henry are to be believed-"
Nick slaps his hand over Harry's mouth, grinning, and says, "Enough, now, be nice. Let's not go there."
Harry just smiles and presses a sweet kiss on Nick's shoulder. "I love you," he murmurs. "Don't think I've actually said it proper yet, so...yeah. I really do."
"Love you more, superstar."