Untitled I
Harry/Niall; NC17 for blowjobs; this makes no sense, look away
The air in the club is so humid that it's hard to breathe. Harry can feel it soaking his t-shirt and jeans, and if he were anywhere else, he's get out of them. Instead, he throws his head back and presses against the body behind him, the body in front of him. His fringe is stuck to his forehead, but he doesn't even care, dances to the hypnotic rhythm of the music like it's all there is to the world, dances with his eyes closed.
Somebody touches his shoulder, leans in to yell over the music. Liam, of course, stone-sober but sweaty as well. „Have you seen Niall?“ Harry makes out. He shakes his head, hasn't seen him in hours, feels like. The boy who was dancing behind him is gone, and his back feels cold even though there's no drift, the air in the club stagnant and heavy. Harry motions his hands around, pointing to the loo and Liam nods, grabs his arm and pulls him through the crowd. Harry wonders what he's so worried about, there's security everywhere and it's legal for all of them to drink here.
Niall is not in there, instead there's two boys in the corner, looking like they are attempting to devour each other. Harry knows he's staring, but the slow, wet glide of their mouths, in perfect accordance, is strangely beautiful. There's something burning in Harry's stomach that feels a bit too much like envy, and he follows Liam easily when he starts tugging him away again. The pink of their lips, their tongues stays burned into his mind.
Once they get out they see Niall's back on the dance floor, pulled tightly against some tall, thin guy. They're pressed together at the hips, legs intertwined, moving to the never changing beat, and it just looks indecent. Liam's over there in half a minute, leaving Harry at the sidelines to stare at Niall's mouth that is stretched into a smile around his braces, painfully pink. He watches as Liam pulls Niall away, leads him over, tight grip on his upper-arm, watches as Niall laughs and shakes his head. Watches as Niall forms words with his pink lips that look almost swollen. Liam tells him to leave, and goes away, to fetch Zayn and Louis probably. Harry lets himself take Niall's wrist, and wonders at the way his hand manages to fully encompass it. Niall lets him.
They're out in the cool night air, Niall's shirt stuck to his torso, his hair is wet at the back of his neck, and he's shivering. He looks so small all of a sudden. They are ushered into a car, and Harry's still holding onto Niall's wrist, only really noticing when Niall tugs it away to wrap his arms around his chest. Harry throws his arm over his shoulders instead, pulls him in against his body.
“Who was that guy?”
“Seriously?” Niall pulls back and his face does a funny thing where he pulls his eyebrows up and the corners of his mouth down. “Liam asked the same fucking thing. What's it to you?”
“I just..” and it's not supposed to come out defensively. “I guess we just worry, alright?” He says instead.
“Well don't.” Niall says and leans back against his seat, face turned away to look out of the window. Harry can see his reflection in the glass, and he doesn't miss the twitch of his mouth before Niall presses his lips together tightly.
“This isn't about the interview, is it? You know we're not just protective of you, right? Liam's the same with me and Zayn and Louis, even.”
“But he'd never pull you away from some fucking girl, now, would he?” Niall says and turns back to face him. “He's never once come to me to look for you when we were out. And you know why, right? Because obviously every guy I can meet will take advantage of me, like I'm some girl that'll get roofied or something. Fuck that.”
And Harry can't stand the look of upset on his face, so he leans over and buries his head in Niall's neck. He can feel Niall take in a surprised breath of air as he hugs him closer. It's a bit uncomfortable on the backseat of a car, but whatever. Necessary measures.
Niall's voice is a bit muffled against Harry's neck when he speaks.
“It's like you guys don't trust me to make good decisions, is all.”
“It's not that we don't trust you.. I guess..we're scared for you and we love you and we don't want you to get hurt.” Harry says slowly, scared of what might pour out if he isn't careful with his words.
“Yeah, because every male person who's not in the band must be out to hurt us, right?” Niall says, and he sounds bitter.
Harry's still not used to this side of him. Niall's always been the light-hearted one, the one who makes them all forget consequences and just go for it. He's fun and easy and relaxed. That's probably the reason they're all so protective of him. He's like this ray of sunshine caught in glass, and they all need him to shine their way, so they're scared to let go of him even for a minute, afraid he'll get broken and lose his shine. It doesn't help that he's the smallest of them, tiny and skinny and blonde and a bit baby-faced. Harry may be younger by a few months, but he feels older, bigger, more capable of taking on the world, and he would, to protect the band, he would.
“Maybe you shouldn't look outside the band, then.” Harry hears himself say, and he didn't mean to say that, and if he did, it wasn't meant to come out so.. suggestively. Niall grows stiff in his embrace, pulls back against the door of the car. He looks flabbergasted and a bit like a deer in the headlights. But when he licks his lips, Harry can feel the blush crawling up his neck. It's because he didn't mean to say that, obviously, not because if how his gaze is drawn to Niall's mouth.
“I'm not gonna fuck Josh, if that's what you mean” Niall stutters out with a laugh, and Harry can feel his eyes grown big in his face because, what?
“What, what, no. No, I mean, me. I. I want. I could help you out. I mean. I, I mean, if that'd. Uhm..”
“Harry.” Niall's outright laughing at him now. “Harry, you aren't even gay.”
So Harry leans over and kisses him. Because if one of your best mates forgets that you're kind of bisexual, that's what you do, right?
It's easy, kissing Niall. It's not so different from kissing a girl, actually, except that the girls he's kissed in the last two years haven't had braces to lick. He bites down a bit on Niall's bottom lip before pulling back. Niall's eyes are huge and dark and then he lets out the most delightful little giggle, like he's not sure what just happened, but he approves. Typically Niall, really. And they must be arriving at the hotel soon, but the driver isn't saying anything, so when Niall's hand buries itself in Harry's hair and he pulls him back in, Harry goes.
They stumble into Harry's hotel room, giggling a little bit, because there's alcohol in their blood still, and they're still and not even five minutes ago, they kissed in a moving car like a bad romance flick. But then the door closes behind them and Niall looks unsure for just a moment and Harry really, really wants to get out of his sticky clothes now. He also really, really wants to know whether the trail of hair on Niall's stomach feels soft to the touch, so he pushes him back against the wall and kisses him again, softly, hands framing his thin face. And Niall opens up for him, tongue flickering, and sighs softly. His hands are back in Harry's hair, moving down over his neck, his shoulders, to meet in the middle of his chest, and he rests them there over Harry's heart like the steady beat of it is assurance and comfort all in one. Niall's cheeks are flushed when Harry breaks the kiss to lick the tip of his nose and make Niall giggle again, and his lips are pink again, and look a bit raw.
He leans in again, nuzzles against Niall's throat, bites down softly on the muscle between his neck and shoulder just to hear him groan, and it's like he's lit up, like every sound Niall makes, has him glow a little brighter, and maybe it would be awkward, working Niall's t-shirt over his head and kissing down his stomach, maybe it would be awkward to fight with Niall's belt buckle for a minute before working down his trousers and pants, but they've lived together for almost two years now and it's just not. They know each other's bodies already, having cuddles and fought and they've seen each other in all states of undress. So it's easy to kiss Niall's belly button as Harry goes down to his knees and it's easy to pull out Niall's cock with his hands and stroke it to hardness, easy, easy. Easy, Niall's hands on his shoulders and in his hair, and his stomach muscles contracting when Harry takes him into his mouth and sucks around him, one hand wrapped around his hip and the other around the base of his cock, and this is familiar even though Harry hasn't done that in years, and didn't have much practice before.
And Harry feels a rush of happiness when Niall groans and lets his head fall back against the wall with a dull crack, because this is what he wanted. He moves his hand off Niall's hip to let him move a bit, allowing him to fuck into Harry's mouth, looks up as he does it and meets Niall's eyes. His pupils are blown and his mouth is a little open, wet where he's licked his lips. But his hips move in tiny, controlled circles, while Harry lets his hand wander back, between his cheeks, lets a finger slip between and presses inside just a little, because he's curious. He wonders if Niall's ever done that, and part of him hopes for a yes, because that might mean that he'll let Harry do that to him tonight. But another part of Harry flares in jealousy as he watches Niall's eyes close and feels his fingers tighten in his hair, and he hopes he could have that first, maybe.
Niall fingers scramble in his hair when he presses his finger in, deeper and sucks and then he's coming, and Harry remembers hating the taste of come, but he swallows it down anyway.
And then Niall is scrambling down to his knees before him even though logically there's no space for him there, and he's kissing him deeply and working at Harry's trousers, but he can't get them down because Harry's still kneeling and he makes a frustrated noise that sounds stuck in his throat, so he pulls Harry's t-shirt up and over his head instead, and climbs into Harry's lap and kisses his mouth and his jaw and pushes at him back until Harry is on his back on the floor, confused as to how he got there that quickly.
But Niall's working on Harry's trousers again, dragging them down as far as he can in his haste because they're skin-tight and still a bit damp from the humidity of the club, before just leaning down and taking his cock into his mouth. And Harry feels a bit overwhelmed by that, but he's been hard since they left the car, pushing his need back because Niall was more important, and he doesn't even mind because Niall can steer them from here, that's okay, too. So Harry leans up on his elbows and looks at Niall's mouth stretched around his cock, heat and pressure and it's delicious and Niall's body is sprawled over his legs, and he's almost thankful for the restriction created by his jeans because Niall's fucking deep-throating and Harry's sure he'd be pushing his hips up if he could gain the leverage, but then his vision is blurring around the edges and he's coming, so fast it would be embarrassing.
He can hear Niall laughing, and when he sits up, he expects to be teased but he's kissed instead. He can taste his come in Niall's mouth, and it should be disgusting, but it's really not. Harry gets his trousers off properly, and they drift to the bed, lying down together, naked skin against naked skin. It's still not awkward, and weirdly enough, Harry's not even embarrassed about coming so fast. Niall's face is pressed against his shoulder, and he can feel his cheeks move when he smiles, so he figures they're okay.
Maybe they can do the other thing when they wake up. And the talking thing, they should probably do the talking thing.
The air in the club is so humid that it's hard to breathe. Harry can feel it soaking his t-shirt and jeans, and if he were anywhere else, he's get out of them. Instead, he throws his head back and presses against the body behind him, the body in front of him. His fringe is stuck to his forehead, but he doesn't even care, dances to the hypnotic rhythm of the music like it's all there is to the world, dances with his eyes closed.
Somebody touches his shoulder, leans in to yell over the music. Liam, of course, stone-sober but sweaty as well. „Have you seen Niall?“ Harry makes out. He shakes his head, hasn't seen him in hours, feels like. The boy who was dancing behind him is gone, and his back feels cold even though there's no drift, the air in the club stagnant and heavy. Harry motions his hands around, pointing to the loo and Liam nods, grabs his arm and pulls him through the crowd. Harry wonders what he's so worried about, there's security everywhere and it's legal for all of them to drink here.
Niall is not in there, instead there's two boys in the corner, looking like they are attempting to devour each other. Harry knows he's staring, but the slow, wet glide of their mouths, in perfect accordance, is strangely beautiful. There's something burning in Harry's stomach that feels a bit too much like envy, and he follows Liam easily when he starts tugging him away again. The pink of their lips, their tongues stays burned into his mind.
Once they get out they see Niall's back on the dance floor, pulled tightly against some tall, thin guy. They're pressed together at the hips, legs intertwined, moving to the never changing beat, and it just looks indecent. Liam's over there in half a minute, leaving Harry at the sidelines to stare at Niall's mouth that is stretched into a smile around his braces, painfully pink. He watches as Liam pulls Niall away, leads him over, tight grip on his upper-arm, watches as Niall laughs and shakes his head. Watches as Niall forms words with his pink lips that look almost swollen. Liam tells him to leave, and goes away, to fetch Zayn and Louis probably. Harry lets himself take Niall's wrist, and wonders at the way his hand manages to fully encompass it. Niall lets him.
They're out in the cool night air, Niall's shirt stuck to his torso, his hair is wet at the back of his neck, and he's shivering. He looks so small all of a sudden. They are ushered into a car, and Harry's still holding onto Niall's wrist, only really noticing when Niall tugs it away to wrap his arms around his chest. Harry throws his arm over his shoulders instead, pulls him in against his body.
“Who was that guy?”
“Seriously?” Niall pulls back and his face does a funny thing where he pulls his eyebrows up and the corners of his mouth down. “Liam asked the same fucking thing. What's it to you?”
“I just..” and it's not supposed to come out defensively. “I guess we just worry, alright?” He says instead.
“Well don't.” Niall says and leans back against his seat, face turned away to look out of the window. Harry can see his reflection in the glass, and he doesn't miss the twitch of his mouth before Niall presses his lips together tightly.
“This isn't about the interview, is it? You know we're not just protective of you, right? Liam's the same with me and Zayn and Louis, even.”
“But he'd never pull you away from some fucking girl, now, would he?” Niall says and turns back to face him. “He's never once come to me to look for you when we were out. And you know why, right? Because obviously every guy I can meet will take advantage of me, like I'm some girl that'll get roofied or something. Fuck that.”
And Harry can't stand the look of upset on his face, so he leans over and buries his head in Niall's neck. He can feel Niall take in a surprised breath of air as he hugs him closer. It's a bit uncomfortable on the backseat of a car, but whatever. Necessary measures.
Niall's voice is a bit muffled against Harry's neck when he speaks.
“It's like you guys don't trust me to make good decisions, is all.”
“It's not that we don't trust you.. I guess..we're scared for you and we love you and we don't want you to get hurt.” Harry says slowly, scared of what might pour out if he isn't careful with his words.
“Yeah, because every male person who's not in the band must be out to hurt us, right?” Niall says, and he sounds bitter.
Harry's still not used to this side of him. Niall's always been the light-hearted one, the one who makes them all forget consequences and just go for it. He's fun and easy and relaxed. That's probably the reason they're all so protective of him. He's like this ray of sunshine caught in glass, and they all need him to shine their way, so they're scared to let go of him even for a minute, afraid he'll get broken and lose his shine. It doesn't help that he's the smallest of them, tiny and skinny and blonde and a bit baby-faced. Harry may be younger by a few months, but he feels older, bigger, more capable of taking on the world, and he would, to protect the band, he would.
“Maybe you shouldn't look outside the band, then.” Harry hears himself say, and he didn't mean to say that, and if he did, it wasn't meant to come out so.. suggestively. Niall grows stiff in his embrace, pulls back against the door of the car. He looks flabbergasted and a bit like a deer in the headlights. But when he licks his lips, Harry can feel the blush crawling up his neck. It's because he didn't mean to say that, obviously, not because if how his gaze is drawn to Niall's mouth.
“I'm not gonna fuck Josh, if that's what you mean” Niall stutters out with a laugh, and Harry can feel his eyes grown big in his face because, what?
“What, what, no. No, I mean, me. I. I want. I could help you out. I mean. I, I mean, if that'd. Uhm..”
“Harry.” Niall's outright laughing at him now. “Harry, you aren't even gay.”
So Harry leans over and kisses him. Because if one of your best mates forgets that you're kind of bisexual, that's what you do, right?
It's easy, kissing Niall. It's not so different from kissing a girl, actually, except that the girls he's kissed in the last two years haven't had braces to lick. He bites down a bit on Niall's bottom lip before pulling back. Niall's eyes are huge and dark and then he lets out the most delightful little giggle, like he's not sure what just happened, but he approves. Typically Niall, really. And they must be arriving at the hotel soon, but the driver isn't saying anything, so when Niall's hand buries itself in Harry's hair and he pulls him back in, Harry goes.
They stumble into Harry's hotel room, giggling a little bit, because there's alcohol in their blood still, and they're still and not even five minutes ago, they kissed in a moving car like a bad romance flick. But then the door closes behind them and Niall looks unsure for just a moment and Harry really, really wants to get out of his sticky clothes now. He also really, really wants to know whether the trail of hair on Niall's stomach feels soft to the touch, so he pushes him back against the wall and kisses him again, softly, hands framing his thin face. And Niall opens up for him, tongue flickering, and sighs softly. His hands are back in Harry's hair, moving down over his neck, his shoulders, to meet in the middle of his chest, and he rests them there over Harry's heart like the steady beat of it is assurance and comfort all in one. Niall's cheeks are flushed when Harry breaks the kiss to lick the tip of his nose and make Niall giggle again, and his lips are pink again, and look a bit raw.
He leans in again, nuzzles against Niall's throat, bites down softly on the muscle between his neck and shoulder just to hear him groan, and it's like he's lit up, like every sound Niall makes, has him glow a little brighter, and maybe it would be awkward, working Niall's t-shirt over his head and kissing down his stomach, maybe it would be awkward to fight with Niall's belt buckle for a minute before working down his trousers and pants, but they've lived together for almost two years now and it's just not. They know each other's bodies already, having cuddles and fought and they've seen each other in all states of undress. So it's easy to kiss Niall's belly button as Harry goes down to his knees and it's easy to pull out Niall's cock with his hands and stroke it to hardness, easy, easy. Easy, Niall's hands on his shoulders and in his hair, and his stomach muscles contracting when Harry takes him into his mouth and sucks around him, one hand wrapped around his hip and the other around the base of his cock, and this is familiar even though Harry hasn't done that in years, and didn't have much practice before.
And Harry feels a rush of happiness when Niall groans and lets his head fall back against the wall with a dull crack, because this is what he wanted. He moves his hand off Niall's hip to let him move a bit, allowing him to fuck into Harry's mouth, looks up as he does it and meets Niall's eyes. His pupils are blown and his mouth is a little open, wet where he's licked his lips. But his hips move in tiny, controlled circles, while Harry lets his hand wander back, between his cheeks, lets a finger slip between and presses inside just a little, because he's curious. He wonders if Niall's ever done that, and part of him hopes for a yes, because that might mean that he'll let Harry do that to him tonight. But another part of Harry flares in jealousy as he watches Niall's eyes close and feels his fingers tighten in his hair, and he hopes he could have that first, maybe.
Niall fingers scramble in his hair when he presses his finger in, deeper and sucks and then he's coming, and Harry remembers hating the taste of come, but he swallows it down anyway.
And then Niall is scrambling down to his knees before him even though logically there's no space for him there, and he's kissing him deeply and working at Harry's trousers, but he can't get them down because Harry's still kneeling and he makes a frustrated noise that sounds stuck in his throat, so he pulls Harry's t-shirt up and over his head instead, and climbs into Harry's lap and kisses his mouth and his jaw and pushes at him back until Harry is on his back on the floor, confused as to how he got there that quickly.
But Niall's working on Harry's trousers again, dragging them down as far as he can in his haste because they're skin-tight and still a bit damp from the humidity of the club, before just leaning down and taking his cock into his mouth. And Harry feels a bit overwhelmed by that, but he's been hard since they left the car, pushing his need back because Niall was more important, and he doesn't even mind because Niall can steer them from here, that's okay, too. So Harry leans up on his elbows and looks at Niall's mouth stretched around his cock, heat and pressure and it's delicious and Niall's body is sprawled over his legs, and he's almost thankful for the restriction created by his jeans because Niall's fucking deep-throating and Harry's sure he'd be pushing his hips up if he could gain the leverage, but then his vision is blurring around the edges and he's coming, so fast it would be embarrassing.
He can hear Niall laughing, and when he sits up, he expects to be teased but he's kissed instead. He can taste his come in Niall's mouth, and it should be disgusting, but it's really not. Harry gets his trousers off properly, and they drift to the bed, lying down together, naked skin against naked skin. It's still not awkward, and weirdly enough, Harry's not even embarrassed about coming so fast. Niall's face is pressed against his shoulder, and he can feel his cheeks move when he smiles, so he figures they're okay.
Maybe they can do the other thing when they wake up. And the talking thing, they should probably do the talking thing.