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Harry doesn't know why he's waited this long to go flat hunting but it's late in summer, the next year at uni is just around the corner, and he's found himself to be incredibly lazy after moving from dorm life back into his mum's spare bedroom. He'll be damned if he has to spend another year in the crummy dorms that have been there and probably not been renovated since the years his parents spent there. The room he'd had the year before was decent enough, but he'd been to a few of his mate's rooms and found mysterious brown spots on the ceiling and walls, and the carpets seemed to be growing live things - or so Harry likes to think, because stains sprout out of nowhere. Last year Harry had lucked out with his well kept room, but there was no telling when his luck would run out, and he had decided that he definitely needed to move himself somewhere other than those dorms.
It seems like everyone else has decided to do the same thing as he has, however, because he's been searching for available apartments or someone looking for a flatmate and nothing around campus has anything open. Not only around the campus, it seems, because there's a few miles radius around the uni that's full up and Harry's starting to get desperate. Every day, he checks the papers for rooms, checks various apartment renting and real estate sites (like they'll have anything different from the other), and he walks around downtown to find anything. If he doesn't find anything soon, he'll be forced into more dorm staying or staying with his mum for the year if he decides he can't take it even then, but her place is too far away for a drive every day with gas prices so high, and it'll be a long tube ride every day that he just can't ever want to take.
It seems useless, Harry thinks, to keep looking only a few weeks away from the day his classes start. He's about ready to beg his mother to let him stay in his old room - now a spare room after he moved out his first and last year in dorms - when he takes a look at the paper. There's a new ad there, for someone looking for a flatmate in a two bedroom, two and a half bath condo downtown. Harry realizes from the address that it's fairly close to his university, and he knows that part of downtown isn't so downtown that it's considered dangerous. At least, when Harry looks up the address, it doesn't have any police reports of brutal stabbings or drug busts so Harry feels pretty good about it. But, what Harry feels suspicious about is that it's not listed on any of the real estate sites and it's not available on the apartment search. Maybe it's a prank, Harry thinks. Maybe someone put it up for available so that the person living there would have people show up and irritate them all day.
There's a phone number attached to the ad and Harry thinks about calling it. All else the ad has is a small description of the condo, a note that says no pets, and the address. It's like the other ads but it's in such a small box that he almost skips over it because of the surrounding ad with pictures and bold type and whatnot. It's also weird that it isn't listed anywhere, but he had a gut feeling about it. If he almost skips over it, then some other uni students must have, too, and he might have luck in snagging a place before anyone else does. So, Harry calls the number, and it rings a few times before someone picks up.
"H'llo?" a gruff, thick sounding Irish accent rings out.
"Hi," Harry says, voice soft but he knows he can be heard, "I'm calling about your ad in the paper; you're looking for a flat mate?"
There's shuffling and then an 'ah'. "Yeah, that's me. You're interested, then?" the other man asks.
Whoever it is doesn't sound like he's Harry's age. His voice isn't as deep as Harry's but there's definitely something that's aged, or maybe it's just how thick his accent is to Harry that's got it confused. He can't have been in England for too long, Harry thinks, with an accent like that.
"Yeah, actually. I'm looking for a place close to my uni. Yours is the closest I can find to it," Harry explains. There's more shuffling on the other end. Harry waits.
"Well, then I suppose it's a fit so far, yeah? There's some paperwork I'd like to have you fill out before we go too far - it's just reassurance for me, since my last roommate didn't end so well; kind of left in a hurry, you see. Would you mind?"
Harry pauses. The first thing he sees in his mind is the Big Bang Theory: Sheldon's old roommate leaving and the whole 'roommate agreement' contract that Lenard had to sign into. Maybe this other guy is a loon, maybe that's why his old flat mate left, just like Sheldon's. Or, Harry thinks, maybe this is a scam for Harry's information for some identity theft because whoever he's talking to has been rather shady with the way his ad is set up, and Harry doesn't even know his name yet. It's gotta be some kind of scam. He might even get murdered. But, he thinks, he's just jumping to irrational conclusions.
"Sure, that's fine. I'm Harry, by the way. Um, how would you like me to get the paperwork, or get it to you?" Harry asks.
"Harry, alright; 'm Niall. Niall Horan. You have email, yeah?"
Harry then gives Niall his email, and it's not too long after that he's got something in his inbox titled 'Just a Few Questions,' from a sender with the name of Niall Horan. A bit of relief settles in the pit of Harry's stomach and he feels good, good that he still has some kind of chance, possibly. As soon as he gets the notification that buzzes against his ear while he's still talking to Niall, he pulls it away from his head and puts the call on speaker phone while he checks the contents. The beginning reads:
Please print and fill out these papers before coming to check out the house. We can talk about them during the tour. Can't wait! - Niall Horan
Under it, there's a download button to a PDF so Harry makes his way up to his bedroom to open up his laptop that's sitting on his bed so that he can boot it up and check the email soon. While he does, they decide to have the condo tour around eleven that Sunday. It works for both of them; apparently Niall works 9-5 week days, and Harry has some shopping to do with his mum on Saturday. The call ends shortly after, so Harry puts Niall's name to the number he just called and saves the email address he'd gotten to the new contact in his phone.
His laptop is up and running when they get off of the call and Harry doesn't take long at all to open up the email Niall had just sent him. He clicks the download button for the PDF and takes a look at the questions to see if there's any questions like, well, what Harry's security number is or what his credit card information is. There's nothing like that, but what Harry sees is - is odd. He's never had to fill out something like this before but he's pretty sure that these things don't usually ask questions like "Sexual Identity?" or "Preferred Pronouns." Sure, there are usually check boxes with things like male/female or something like that in surveys he's taken in high school about drugs and sexual habits. But, nothing like this.
It's weird, but Harry remembers what Niall said about there being trouble with his old flat mate and doesn't remember him specifying any gender to this person, so Harry thinks maybe it had been a girl and they'd run into sexual trouble. That's the only thing Harry can think of that would excuse something like this, but he doesn't think much else of it because, well, he's strapped for time getting a place to stay and he needs to at least make an effort to find a place. Besides that, Harry's not really uncomfortable answering a few questions about himself.
Harry finds that after he prints out the papers, he pours over each question quickly. He's written in blue ink to look more professional, not like some kid looking for a job interview with pencil because they don't know any better, and answers each question honestly. The last bit seems more like a job application than anything else, after all, because the last page is full of questions like "Why do you need this job?" Easy to answer, easy to get done with, and easy to get excited for a few days out when he can finally see just where he's going to be staying after all.
//
Sunday morning, Harry is at Niall's door at 11:03 with his papers in hand. The building, Harry notices, is tucked away in the back of the neighborhood placed close to a what looks like a community shopping center. There's about three condos in each building, all linked to each other, and there are five or six of them in rows. Every condo has its own attached garage and driveway; there are porches on each building, but they're in different areas on each condo so no porches face each other; and each building of condos has different colored roofs so it's easy to tell each one apart. Niall's has a red roof and his front door is red as well. Harry had parked his car and is now standing in front of it.
Niall opens the door and Harry can tell it's a bit crowded at the entrance, he notices right away. The first thing he sees are stairs directly behind the door, and Niall (or at least Harry thinks is Niall) is standing on the first step, holding the door handle. There is barely any floor space, only enough to swing the door open, and then there's immediately stairs. On the right side where Harry is standing is a door again, which Harry guesses is for the garage because he knows he parked in front of one when he came in.
"Hey - you Harry?" the man asks.
He's gotta be in his twenties, but he's handsome, Harry notices. There's a little bit of stubble on his chin and jaw but it's not very noticeable unless it catches light and his hair is light, but Harry can tell by the hair dying knowledge his sister has embedded in him that it's dyed, due to the pretty dark side burns that are starting to come in. When he smiles, his lips spread thin and his teeth glow white. Harry can tell already that his eyes are blue; he's a few feet away, but they're bright and his face is in the sun. There are freckles on his cheeks and down his neck and they make him seem younger, in a way. He seems like a lad that can pull if he wants to.
Harry nods, smiles and reaches his hand into the doorway to shake. "Yeah, that's me. And Niall?" he asks.
He - Niall - smiles at Harry, takes his hand, and shakes it. "That's me. Come on in."
As he says it, Niall backs up a step so Harry can walk in, take the front step, and close the door behind him. It's tight in the stairway, but Niall's smiling down at him from a step above.
"Right, so it's not a lot to look at right now, but I think you'll like it otherwise. I've got drinks and food, if you're hungry," Niall says while he turns and takes a few more steps up.
Harry follows him up to a landing, finally, that's a nice hard wood finish with alternating light and dark wood in a square big enough for just the space, making a pattern that looks medieval. Directly across from the entrance to the stairs is another door, and next to it is a coat rack and a shoe shelf. Harry takes his shoes off and places them down on a hunch.
"Now, that right there is the bathroom," Niall says as he gestures to the door on the landing, and then gestures back down the stairs and says, "the door next to the front is to the garage."
Niall takes a step onto plush, cream carpet into a room that opens up instantly instead of the cramped space that had once been the stairs. Harry follows suit and sees an indent in the wall where Niall has taken the space to put a desk in with shelves on either side of it. To Harry's left, he sees a couch, an armchair, and a chaise lounge facing towards the wall that hides the stairs, where a large television hangs in the middle with shelves of movies and Xbox games. Behind the couches is a dining space, with a tall dining table and chairs. Right next to that is the kitchen with smart granite counters and dark cupboards. Everything is well lit with large windows around the small but roomy space, and in the dining area there's the sliding glass doors for the little balcony. The entire space as a common color theme but it's not over done; it's almost as though Niall had hired an interior decorator to make up the space for him.
"Well, there's not really much I can show you down here that you can't see for yourself," Niall says in the middle of Harry glancing around the downstairs.
He's moving around the room while Niall stays in one place and watches. Harry doesn't mind, of course, and it's not like he feels bad because he's not snooping around. All Harry's doing at the moment is walking around and getting a feel for the flow of the room and how open it is. There's enough room for Harry to walk comfortably between the couch and the kitchen breakfast nook to get to the dining room, and he can walk around the living space with ease.
"It's nice; I like it," Harry tells Niall once he's stopped in front of the couch, facing the direction of the tv.
Niall smiles at him, gestures over to the wall of windows on Harry's left, opposite the way they came in the room. "Let me show you the upstairs, then," he's saying as he walks across Harry's line of vision to the wall he had just gestured to, and he turns right towards the wall the tv is hanging on and around a wall to another set of stairs that Harry hadn't really noticed. Harry follows him, walks up the stairs that are just as narrow as the other ones, but there are pictures lining up the walls and Harry can see just past Niall is a shelf with pictures and cubbies for extra storage. Niall stops on the landing next to the shelf until Harry gets to the top and can see a small open space and a hallway with two doors and a closet door, it looks like.
"Now, here's where the rooms are. Right here is the laundry room," Niall points out, gestures to the closet doors and pulls them open to a stacked washer and dryer with a space next to them that Niall has filled with a hamper. Above the hamper are a few shelves with linen.
"That's my room. I've got my own bathroom, as you can see," Niall continues as he pointed to an open door at the end of the hallway. Harry can see directly from that doorway into another open door to a bathroom. What he can't see is a bed or any furniture in the space before the door, so he assumes he'd have to turn a corner to get to it. There's no reason for Niall to show him his full bedroom anyway, right?
Next, Niall closes the closet doors and walks across from them to a closed door, the last thing to show, and Harry guesses that it's what would be his room. Niall opens the door and steps aside for Harry, letting him in first. Harry thanks him with a nod and steps into an empty room, but it's got potential. The walls are painted a light blue, the floor is cream, and the trim is all white. There is a door on the wall on the right and when Niall steps inside, he walks to it and opens it up.
"Well, this would be your room," Niall says, trails off and pushes his hand around the room. He points a thumb to the door he just opened, then to closet doors, "bathroom, closet. There's no damage to the room itself, but the layout has never been my favorite, if I'm honest."
Harry likes it. It's not big but it's not small, and he's sure he can fit his furniture in it and still have floor room. He gestures towards the closet with a questioning look and Niall nods to him, so Harry walks to the doors and pulls them open. It's deep, has shelves on one side and a place to hang things on the other. Harry will definitely be able to fit his clothes in there, and store some things in boxes up above. It's a good place, yeah. Harry likes it a lot.
"It's really nice," Harry says once he shuts the closet door. He smiles at Niall, and Niall smiles back.
"Great. Now, like I said, I have food and drinks. We can look over your papers, if you don't mind," Niall says, and he glances down to Harry's side where he has the papers tucked in under his armpit.
Harry nods, so Niall walks out of the room and gestures over his shoulder for Harry to follow him. He jogs down the steps that Harry assumes he knows how to do pretty well by now but he himself keeps careful, because these steps are much more narrow than at his mum's and he doesn't know if his knees are gonna kick holes in the wall before he's even moved in, or is offered to. The tour is going well and he assumes Niall likes him enough if he's gonna look over the papers, but he hasn't been offered a solid yes or no, so there's no way of telling. When he gets down the stairs, Niall is waiting in the kitchen with a tray of veggies, fruits, cheeses, dips, and mini bread slices. He's taking them to the high dining table, so Harry meets him there and takes a seat when Niall gestures for him to.
"What'll you have to drink?" Niall asks him, and Harry goes for water.
By the time Niall gets back with the glasses for the two of them, Harry has his papers laid out in front of the seat he assumes Niall is going to take. He does, and he picks up the papers to look over the front of it.
"19?" Niall questions as he looks up to Harry, and Harry nods a nervous yes.
Niall mouths words as he reads them and flips a page, to where Harry knows is the weirder questions. Harry hadn't known how to answer some of the questions so he's sure that Niall's going to stop and say something - ask him about them, like he did his age. (Why exactly did he do that again?) And, he does, unfortunately for Harry, who doesn't know how to explain some things to him.
"You're straight?" Niall asks, and Harry wants to be offended, but he gives Niall a chance to reconsider his words. When he doesn't, Harry just nods slightly and raises an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Is that a problem?" he asks, and maybe it's harsh.
"No, no, not at all," Niall assures, smiling again at him. "Just, like, this day and age you never know. So you're sure?"
Harry wants to guffaw, but he's not sure if he should be laughing or confused or both. He is both, but he's not the 'good' kind of laughing.
"Yes, I'm entirely sure I'm not gay. I've never been attracted to another man in my life, mentally or physically," Harry says, like he's defending his honor, but Niall takes it just as well as he had before. He's just nodding, and then he's on with his list again.
It takes a while, maybe half an hour for Niall to get through any questions he's had. Harry had thought he was like Sheldon, again, but he can't decide it he's worse or better. There's no contract Harry has to sign but there are also those odd questions he was asked that has him on edge. But Niall assures that was the hard part, and that he likes what he's read so far, and thinks that Harry would be a good match, wouldn't cause any trouble around here. Harry wants to ask what trouble his old roommate caused him but he doesn't say anything. They discuss what monthly rent would be and Harry finds it hard to believe that it's actually very doable with the amount he's being paid right now. Aside from the questions, Harry thinks it's too good to be true.
Niall walks him to the door, opens it and steps aside enough that Harry can slide past him and outside. When Harry's outside, Niall outstretches his hand and Harry shakes it.
"It was nice meeting you," Harry says.
"You as well. We'll keep in touch," Niall tells him, squeezes his hand on the goodbye, and as Harry waves an 'okay', the door shuts. Harry feels good about it.
//
Harry's right to feel good about the tour, because it's turned out that he's gotten it. It as in the offer, it as in finally, over text, Niall asks him when can you move in? This is it, this is when he'd move out of his mum's place and no longer feel like a loser adult who had to move back in with his parents after an unsuccessful try at uni. (Which wasn't unsuccessful seeing as though he is still going and still plans on making his school work his top priority.)
They decide on a date when Harry calls Niall to tell him he's in. Harry borrows his step dad's truck and they get his furniture, his clothes and things in boxes, all loaded into the back. There's not a lot because Harry's only really going to use one room so he doesn't worry about having to buy new furniture or things like that. As they move furniture up into the house, Harry feels like it's dorm preparation time all over again, but now it's times a thousands and Harry feels like a full fledged adult. Kind of, well, because his parents are still the ones doing all the heavy lifting while he's taking his boxes upstairs with the help of Niall. Niall's nice, Harry thinks, because of this. He likes to snoop, though, and Harry's noticed that a few times when he catches him sneaking peeks into some boxes Harry has opened.
//
Living with Niall is good, so far, even if it's only been a week or so. Harry's classes are just around the corner and he's excited for it, but he's also living up his free time and spending hours watching tv on the couch when he's not at work and Niall's gone. And even when Niall comes home, he's stuck by the stairs in that little desk nook and typing away on his laptop. Harry at first had asked Niall if he would rather he watches something on his laptop upstairs instead, if the noise bothers Niall, but Niall insisted that it was fine. Living with him is good.
(It's not all the time that Harry finds it odd, rather. Niall's not shy around him, so Harry's not shy either, and if he finds Niall downstairs in his boxers in the morning he thinks nothing of it. Harry sometimes does the same, but at one particular point, Harry could feel staring, and when he turned his head up from his phone, he caught Niall staring at his side.
"Do you work out?" Niall had asked him, and Harry shrugged.
"Not usually, but I try to. Why?" Harry asked after. Niall smiled at him.
"You have really nice legs, is all," and then Niall was done talking.)
Niall's been helpful, too. He's gotten Harry an extra pass in case he wants to go to the pool or the gym in the center of all the condo buildings, in case he's ever bored enough to. Harry doesn't really think of himself as a gym kind of guy but when it's too cold outside he'll go for a jog on the treadmill instead. Niall's there sometimes, and when he is, he's always at the weights that are behind the treadmills and bikes and things. Harry thinks nothing of it. When Harry's done, Niall's done, and Niall always manages to tell Harry he'll meet him in the locker room. It's a joke; though, at first Harry had actually believed it. It gave him goosebumps, the way Niall said it.
But Harry finds out he's kidding, later, when Harry goes home and Niall walks with him instead of going off to some other room - which, from what he said, Harry would've expected. Niall's raving about his exercise and Harry's feeling pretty good, too, but his legs are like jelly and he's exhausted, so when they get into the house, he tells Niall that he's going to shower and excuses himself.
The shower feels so nice, too, against Harry's heated skin that he stands there for a good ten minutes. The water never runs cold on him, so he's sitting there with his back to it and feeling his body warm up with it. His muscles relax after giving them a rest from a bit of a push he put on them today, and as he scrubs the sweat off of himself, he feels like he's never been better. To top it off, he's just gotten his favorite soap and when he gets out of the shower, he smells like tangerines and lime. The towel he gets is warm and worn but nothing feels more right, and then he's in his soft pajamas and - God, he hasn't felt this good and free in so long.
When he goes downstairs, Niall is sat on one side of the couch, and it doesn't seem like he's showered yet. In fact, Harry knows that he hasn't showered yet because he can tell those were the clothes that he worked out in and he smells as though he's just come back from breaking rocks in the hot sun all day - Harry can smell him from the landing of the stairs, but he doesn't mean to offend so he doesn't say anything. Harry sits on the other end of the couch after he spares Niall a smile.
"You're not gonna shower?" Harry asks him.
Niall shakes his head, shrugs a shoulder, says, "Nah, don't see the point. Victory stench gives off a manly vibe anyway. I mean - you smell good and all, but." He's laughing.
Harry tries not to frown. He nods, looking towards the tv.
"Some people really dig it," Niall continues, even though Harry doesn't ask. Harry turns back towards him, though.
"What do you mean?" Harry asks.
"You know, like - it's a kink, I guess. Get in bed with someone, afterwards you're all sweaty and yeah, you kinda smell like sex but there's that manly sweat there, too. Musk. You know?"
Harry just nods. He knows, knows too well it seems, but he's never been into it. Feels all too dirty after sex, like he needs to wash off immediately, and usually after he fucks he comes up with some kind of excuse that he's gotta go just so he can go back to his dorm and shower off. At least, he's done that a few times.
"Is it your kink?" Harry asks, but he doesn't know why. He doesn't get a very good response, though; Niall just shrugs, thinks for a second, and shrugs again.
"Not particularly. I've seen girls go wild over it, though. Makes the sex better. I'd say, well, I like to be called Daddy."
Harry has to not shiver. The way Niall's said it, so gruff and raw and he's sure if he was a girl, he'd be aroused in a second. But he's not a girl, and he's not gay, and he's got nothing else to say to it.
"Never tried it," Harry says honestly and shrugs back at Niall.
Niall's eyebrows raise, and his head tilts to the side. "Not your thing?" he asks. Again, Harry shrugs, so Niall goes on. "What about prostate stimulation?"
Harry chokes on nothing, just laughs. "No, definitely not. Innit a bit gay?"
This time, Niall shrugs. "Don't really think of it as gay. Lots of straight boys do it. Some get off with their girls trying it out on them," he says.
Harry purses his lips. It seems gay, and he's uncomfortable even thinking about it, because he'd never try it.
"You really haven't tried it?" Niall asks him, and Harry shakes his head again.
"No. Have you?" Harry turns.
Niall looks calm, shakes his head. "Nah, not my thing. I'm surprised about you, though. Truly."
Harry says nothing; he's not even sure what he can say, at this point. According to Niall he shouldn't be offended, but part of him is, and he definitely wants to know what made Niall think he would be into something like that in the first place. He's still watching Niall as he stands, adjusts his shorts, and gives Harry a two fingered salute. "See ya' in the morning," he says, and then he's disappeared behind the wall and up the stairs.
//
Niall pops his head in Harry's open door before he heads to work that day. They've already established a 'don't come in' rule if the door is closed, like a silent agreement, and Harry doesn't notice Niall poke his head in until he's knocking on the wall next to him.
"I'm gonna head to work now, but I'm stopping at the store after. Text me if you want me to pick you up anything," Niall offers him, and then he's gone.
Harry's just gotten up, he doesn't have work for about three more hours, and he's on his laptop anyway. He's got a semi covered by the hot bottom of the laptop and thankfully Niall hadn't been able to tell, but now he's left alone, and he wasn't going to take care of it with anything other than a cold shower when he realizes that he's home alone and, well, fuck it. His laptop is already open and, although he'd just been checking his schedule online, he knows that porn is just a few clicks of a button away and there's nothing much else stopping him.
Harry's soft pajamas are tossed to the floor and he's on top of his covers, bottle of lube and a box of tissues next to him while he lazily strokes fingers up and down the side of his cock. He opens up a private browser and goes to his usual site, goes to his usual search of lesbian strap on. There are a few that he's seen already at the top so he scrolls down, down, down until he stops and, oh. One of the heading reads, in all caps, "BEAUTIFUL BLOND LESBIAN COUPLE FUCKS DELIVERY GUY WITH STRAP ON". It's not usual, and it's definitely something he'd skip, but what Niall said last night catches up to him and he thinks, maybe, he can give it a shot. This guy is obviously straight if he's, like, getting fucked by two girls.
Harry clicks the video, pulls it up to full screen and watches. There's some kind of dialog so Harry uses time to lube up the outside edges of his pointer finger and thumb, wraps them around the base of his cock and slides up until there's a thin layer of lube covering it. His fingers tighten around the head of it, red and ready, and he feels his cock fatten up as the women get naked on screen and moan in ways that Harry knows for sure aren't real, but they've got him going and he rocks his hips up into his hand. He's leaking a small bit of precum and he swipes his thumb over his slit to slide the slick around, spreads it in with the rest of the lube.
The girls on camera are in the middle of a heated kiss when the taller one lays the other down on the couch. They're naked, and the camera guy has it angled so that as she crawls over the other, her pussy is up front and close. She spreads her partner's legs and settles between them, spreads her open with her fingers, and doesn't miss a beat licking into her. It's enough that Harry's into it, watches with full attention and has got his hand pumping his cock in an even rhythm. His hips are rocking into it, his breathing is a bit raged. The girl on top has got three fingers in the other, and she's reaching under the couch for what Harry is waiting for - yes, finally it cuts to a scene where she's got the strap on on and she's fucking the other girl hard; both their tits are bouncing and Harry thinks he can come after a few more moments, but then there's a doorbell ringing on screen and Harry groans out in frustration. He knows the director probably had that on purpose.
Then the delivery guy is brought in and he's acting all surprised at what he sees. Harry hates how fake porn can be, so he skips over the dialog and finds that he's skipped too far. There's still about half the video left and the man is already on all fours with one girl forcing his head down to her cunt and the other is bent over him, hips snapping and sound of skin slapping. Harry's eyes widen a little, because, like, he's seeing it now, seeing a straight boy with something up his ass. He knows it's a usual think but he's never watched it and now, now he's a little intrigued. The hand wrapped around his cock is forgotten, but he does feel it twitch in excitement when the guy's mouth is off the girl's pussy and he can hear what he's moaning.
And Harry's, like - Harry's curious about it, now, because he's never heard a man moan like that and he could never imagine that something like that would be pleasurable. But it sounds like it, and Harry thinks about what it would feel like if maybe he tries it. His heart is beating, his cheeks are flushed, but he's alone and he's got nothing to lose if he tries it and doesn't like it. After all, there's lube literally right there, and Harry can reach it, so there's nothing really stopping him. Harry takes a deep breath, and then he's reaching for it.
He has to figure out what's the best way to position himself for this, and how he's even going to do it. He's never tried to, like, get in a position with his ass out but he's done yoga a few times, and he considers himself flexible enough, so he decides to put himself in any of his girlfriend's point of views, and he gets on his knees and elbows. The good thing is that he can feel himself open, or, like, exposed to air, and Harry supposes that it's a good thing, maybe. It takes him a minute to mentally prepare himself for this - for sticking his fingers in his ass - but he takes the point of no return as lubing his fingers up. One is now pressed against his rim, and he takes a second to breath and not shy away from the cold finger he wishes he hadn't even gotten dirty. Another deep breath and he's circling the ring of muscle with the tip of his finger before the pad of it presses against his entrance. It feels oddly nice, Harry thinks, when his hole twitches against his finger and he can feel himself clench, but he relaxes himself and finally takes the plunge.
There's no going back now, Harry knows, when he presses his fingertip into himself. It's not painful like he thought it would be, instead just uncomfortable, and Harry wonders why anyone would choose to do this if this is it. He takes in a breath, and as he breathes, he presses his finger deeper into himself until he sunk to his second knuckle and paused to relax again. Another breath, further again, until Harry had pressed his entire digit into himself and, like he'd thought before, nothing. It's strange, he will give it that, but he can't quite find anything pleasurable in it until, oh god, he's dragging his finger out. It's a strange pull, feels really strange as he does it, but somehow he likes it. He's almost forgot what he's supposed to be looking for when he does it, because just the drag of something new is a little bit exciting. He twists his finger and then - oh.
Now, Harry's not taken health in a few years and he's not sure where a prostate is or what it's supposed to feel like but he knows he's got something here. It's a nerve, doesn't feel like anything else around so far, and the moment he touches it, his whole body lurches forward. A throaty moan bubbles up from his chest and his mouth falls open as he twists his head. His body feels hot all over again, and the semi he'd gone down to before was now fat and full again in a way he hadn't felt in a long, long time. Harry chews his bottom lip, twists his finger to find the nerve again, and pants into his pillow case when he strokes it with his finger. It's weird, too, Harry thinks, because he feels like he's being too loud and unrealistic, but he rocks his hips down onto his finger while it strokes that spot and god, he doesn't think he's been this loud fucking in his life.
Harry doesn't realize that the video he was watching had ended, and he doesn't realize until it's too late that he's close. He's just wiggling in a second finger and beginning to stroke when he comes hot against the sheets, screams out a string of fuckfuckfuck and is riding his fingers as his toes curl and thighs ache. He sees white for so long that he's not sure if he'll ever be able to see again but as his body lays limp, he withdraws his fingers so he doesn't over stimulate himself and thinks of the aftermath. His laptop is still open and there's a box of tissues and lube on his bed next to him but he hasn't come hard like that in as long as he can remember, so he doesn't think a nap is too bad of an idea.
//
A week later, when Harry's just about ready to start his classes, he decides to spend the afternoon at the gym to tire himself out enough that he can go to bed that night and stay asleep for a long time. Niall tells him to wait up and he does; he thinks Niall's going to take the weight lifts behind the treadmills again while Harry runs, but instead Niall is at the treadmill right besides his. Harry smiles over his shoulder at him, but he has his headphones in and he doesn't pay attention to Niall the rest of the hour that he's there.
He works up a nice sweat and after an hour of running, the treadmill goes though its cool down time on its own and Harry knows it's time for him to stop. Niall's goes off at the same time his own does and, just like Harry, he gets off, grabs his little gym bag, and walks alongside Harry as he wipes down his face with a towel. "Meet you in the locker room?" Niall laughs at him and Harry chuckles a bit of a breathless laugh.
"Are you gonna shower tonight, or do you have a lady friend you're meeting up with later?" Harry asks him nonchalantly as they walk together to the far end of the neighborhood where their condo lies.
Niall shrugs, hums as he looks across his shoulder at Harry. "Think I might shower. Sweatin' a bit more than I'm comfortable with, you know?" he chuckles, and Harry nods.
"I'm serious, though. Birds love this kind of stuff, especially the really crazy ones," Niall continues.
"You've told me this before," Harry says, shaking his head.
"Yeah, yeah, but you'll never know it until you try it yourself," Niall says, "You end up fucking like this and they'll be ass up in no time."
"I think of myself more of a tit man," Harry says casually.
Niall's eyebrow quirks and he hums. "Interesting. I'm more of an ass man, meself. Love anal. So you're into nipple play and stuff?"
"Haven't ever tried it on a girl," Harry admits and shrugs a shoulder, doesn't look too interested in it.
"So you've tried it on yourself?" Niall asks then, and Harry scoffs at him.
"No! That's not something a man should do. What guy would even like that?" he guffaws, face screwed up as Niall laughs at him.
"Like I said, you'll never know it until you try it yourself."
//
While Harry's in the shower, he looks down at his chest and wonders. Niall's never steered him wrong and he will admit that sometimes when he's laying around he'll touch his nipples just because he can, or if he's looking in the mirror for too long, he'll admire them. It can't be too bad to just, like, touch a little more, right? He's not hard and he doesn't really feel aroused, so he doesn't see the point, but he does think about it for a while. He doesn't, in the end.
When he's getting dressed, it's cold in his room compared to the shower. His nipples are hard without being touched, and Harry catches sight of it in a mirror hanging from his wall. They're nice; hard, pink, like little rosebuds. He steps closer to the mirror, contemplates for a second, and finally brings his hands up to brush his thumbs over them. It makes him shiver, just barely touching them, so he pinches them between his fingers and bites his bottom lip. This time he shudders, and he does it again after. It's a little arousing but the second he feels any kind of twitch in his boxers, he drops his hands. Maybe the next time he decides to try stuff out, he'll try it again.
//
Niall's downstairs already when Harry gets down there. He's in the kitchen whereas Harry makes his home in the living room, settled into the corner of the couch against the armrest while he watches commercials play during whatever show Niall has put on. The sink goes off and Harry tilts his head back to watch what Niall's doing, but it's not all that interesting. He's only got a clear bowl of raspberries in his hand and he's cradling it against his chest while he watches the tv leaned against the counter top. Harry lulls his head back, watches the program.
It's a good fifteen minutes before Niall comes back around to the living area, and Harry's nodding off to sleep already, he can feel. He yawns loud, one that makes his eyes water, just as Niall plops himself down on the couch directly next to Harry. It's not that Harry minds or anything but, like, it's movie theater etiquette to sit somewhere else and give people their space. Harry tries not to mind, does his best to keep his eyes open for the film he's watching, when Niall's arm is tossed over the back of the couch around Harry's shoulders. And, again, Harry tries not to mind and he doesn't until Niall's fingertips are on Harry's shoulder, tickling the ends of his curls and making him frown. That's not all his hand does, though, because it slides down his shoulder and chest until his fingers skim over Harry's nipple and rubs.
"Okay, whoa," Harry says, suddenly awake as he shoves Niall's hand off of him. "What are you doing?"
Niall shrugs at him, shifts his body so that it's facing Harry's and Harry does the same, except now he notices how close Niall is and feels even more uncomfortable about it.
"Nothing," he tells Harry, elbow propped against the back of the couch while he leans into it.
"You're, like, rubbing my nipple. That's pretty gay," Harry says, frowns.
Niall's laughing now, shrugging at Harry while he bites his thumbnail. He doesn't seem offended by it, doesn't seem upset that Harry's just called him out for being inappropriate. Instead he's humming at Harry and shifts his body closer.
"Not gay. I'm just helping you figure out what you like," he says, takes his hands up to hold Harry's sides. They're not tight but Harry feels like they're burning into him.
"Well, I don't like it, so you did it. Congrats," Harry says as he takes Niall's hands off his sides.
Niall laughs again, reaches forward and presses his hands against Harry's stomach. Harry leans away from the touch, trapped by the armrest of the couch and Niall's leg, which has landed on the carpet but effectively propped against the edge of the couch cushion and Harry's crossed legs. Harry feels claustrophobic under Niall, and he's almost literally under him, as Niall puts a hand next to Harry's side on the armrest of the couch and leans over Harry. His other hand slips under Harry's shirt which has ridden up in the process of leaning back, glides up until he reaches Harry's nipple, and lifts his shirt as a result. Harry tries to shy away from the touch but it's cold in the room and Harry's heart is pounding; in no time, Niall's thumb brushes against Harry's nipple and it's not a surprise when it hardens up.
"You mean you don't like it when I do this?" Niall asks in a gruff voice, pinches Harry's nipple hard and pulls at it, taunts it.
Harry keens. It hurts, but he'll be a damned liar if he says it's not kind of nice, though he still doesn't want to admit it to Niall.
"Get off of me," Harry huffs to him, pushing Niall's shoulder hard and, for a second, it works until Niall's shifted up even closer to him.
"Not until you answer," Niall says, and he's serious, takes a nip at Harry's other nipple just to prove it.
Harry gasps, says, "Stop!" and shoves hard again. It's not as effective. Niall just laughs at him.
Niall's got his mouth on him now, is taking one of Harry's taunt nipples into his mouth and holding the nub in place with his teeth as he teases it with his tongue. And, okay, yeah, Harry likes that but he doesn't want to admit it. He doesn't verbally, anyway, but his back arches off the armrest and towards Niall's mouth more. Niall lets go with his teeth, soothes his nipple with his tongue and shifts directions to the other, while his hand still pulls and tweaks at the most abused of them both.
Harry doesn't know why he's letting himself moan but Niall's got him; he really likes it, doesn't know how to ask for more. It's, like, it shouldn't be happening because Harry's definitely not gay, but it feels good, really good, and he feels his cock twitch in excitement. That doesn't bother him as much as when he feels Niall's semi against his hip, and then he's panicked.
"Niall, I'm not gay," Harry gasps as Niall rocks his hips into his, closing his eyes at the pressure of it.
"Nothing gay about it," Niall tells him, and he sounds like he believes what he says, but Harry doesn't quite understand.
"Two guys getting off together?" Harry mutters, tries his hardest not to grip Niall's hair as he tugs one of his nipples back with his teeth, and almost loses his mind.
"Yeah, and that's it. Straight boys can get off together. I mean, you like nipple play and I know, despite what you said, that you like prostate stimulation. I like anal. It's a win for the both of us," Niall tells him, mouths wetly around his puffy nipple while he glances up to him.
And, like, Niall has good reasoning, Harry supposes. There's nothing gay about getting off with someone else, and as long as Niall agrees, then there's nothing bad about it. It's just two guys getting off together. Yeah. What doesn't make sense is why Niall's thought about this, or how Niall knows about a kink Harry hasn't known he's had for more than a few days, but, well, he can ask later. He's grabbed hold of Niall's hair and presses his hips up into Niall's.
"Sounds good to me," Harry all but pants, and Niall smirks down at him while he shifts away from Harry.
Harry wants to pull him back, feels lust take over as he tugs at Niall's wrist, but Niall squeezes his knee in assurance and Harry lays back against the armrest again. Niall pulls his shirt over his head, reveals an expanse of pale skin and a nicely toned torso, and then tugs down his joggers a little further. He doesn't take them off, just pulls them lower on his hips and Harry can see a more of a dark line of hair down the center of a pretty well defined v-line. Harry can tell he doesn't have boxers on, and that's probably the only piece of clothing in the way from Harry getting too overwhelmed. Besides, he can see the outline of his semi and, well, Niall's bigger than most.
Harry's still got his legs folded under him, like he's stuck in the position and doesn't know what to do now that Niall's no longer got his hands on him. Niall helps him, though; he taps Harry's thighs until Harry gets the hint and spreads his legs open, one against the back of the couch and one hanging over the edge. Niall shifts on his heels, leans down and gives Harry's nipple another kiss while he tugs Harry's pajama pants down his legs. He's got them off, gripping Harry's thighs before he palms into him through the fabric of his boxers. Harry rocks his hips up, feels his cock thicken up as Niall squeezes.
Niall doesn't spend much time on him, much to Harry's dismay, but he tugs Harry's boxers down and sets him free so that his cock bobs against his tummy. Harry's ankles are tugged as well suddenly, and he's shifted down so that his shoulders are against the armrest and his lower back is on a pillow, but Niall spreads his legs open and kisses Harry's calf. He's tested for a moment, leg pushed back to see how far it'll go and then it hits his chest and he's nearly folded over. Niall marvels at him.
"Flexible boy," Niall breaths in a laugh, mouths at the back of Harry's thigh.
Harry feels exposed, hot, wants to get this over with already. His cock his leaking against his stomach and he hasn't even really touched it yet, but he's excited, so clearly so, while he tugs on Niall's side.
"Alright, alright." Niall gets the point, leans back again to take in the look of Harry. His fingers slide down Harry's thigh and Harry holds the back of his knee to hold his leg in place while Niall shifts his attention to Harry's displayed entrance. Harry watches as Niall leans over to the coffee table, grabs a bowl of decorative rocks and, wait, is that a packet of lube? Yep, Niall's got a packet of blue lube, and he rips it open with his teeth before he spreads a bit on his fingers.
"'m gonna open you up, you ready?" Niall asks him, and Harry nods because yeah, he's no stranger now to fingers.
They're prodding at him now, two are, and Harry protests with a whine when Niall presses them against his rim until Niall's eased one into him. One isn't bad, and when another one enters, Harry doesn't hate it. It's uncomfortable at first but Niall's fingers are long and Harry's just now realizing, with Niall's hand splayed out across Harry's lower tummy, that Niall's hands are just as big as his are, if not bigger. There's so much; Niall's petting two rough fingers into Harry's prostate and he thinks maybe he can come from just this, but then he feels it, feels a third finger wiggling into him and it makes him tense up. One is fine, two is good, but suddenly three feel like too much and Harry's whimpering with his arm thrown over his face. He doesn't think when Niall's stretching him open, doesn't hear Niall ask if he's alright or not when he makes a come hither motion inside of him.
The stretch burns until it doesn't, and Harry's finally gotten into it, rocks down on Niall's fingers to encourage him and then Niall's gone. Harry feels himself clench around nothing, desperately whipping his arm away from his face to see what Niall's doing when he sees it. Niall's joggers are down, he's got his hand around the base of his cock and the head of it is angry red and glistening with precum. Harry remembers suddenly that that's going to be inside of him, and feels as though three fingers weren't enough of a stretch.
Niall's cock is lubed and Harry watches, frozen, as Niall inches closer. He hunkers down over Harry, plants his hand firmly on the back of Harry's thigh to keep his hips up while the other guides the tip of his cock to Harry's slick rim. Harry swallows thickly, nervous, and looks up to Niall with this wild look in his eyes. There is no stop to check if he's alright, but Niall does give him a look that it's gonna be alright, and then Harry feels it. It's just the head but Harry feels like it's too much too soon, hand flying to grab onto Niall's bicep and anchor himself onto something. Niall sucks in a breath, moves his hand away from his cock to press down on Harry's middle.
"Relax, relax," he coos while Harry clenches, raises his eyebrow until Harry's forced himself to relax his muscles and let Niall in.
It's a slow burn, but it definitely stays and Harry can feel it deep as Niall sinks into him, shifts his weight so he's got a good leverage. He's big, Harry can't help it when he mutters under his breath to hold on and digs his nails into the back of Niall's arm. Harry hears a little breathe of god, so fucking tight, and he shudders with the sound of his voice so close to him. Niall's rocking and Harry's not quite finished adjusting but the rock is good, keeps Harry from thinking too much on anything other than Niall. Niall drags out of him, Harry tries to bare down on him again, but Niall laughs breathlessly and holds Harry's hips still while he pushes back in.
They're slow until all of a sudden they're not, and Niall's fucking his hips forward at a pace Harry can't quite wrap his head around yet. Harry's other arm wraps around Niall's waist, holds him close while he pants. His head has fallen back already and his throat can't hold back low moans, just like Niall can't hold back grunts into Harry's shoulder. Harry rocks his hips down on Niall's thrusts and then, oh, there it is.
"Fuck, there, there," Harry pants to Niall, digs his nails into the skin in his back to get him to listen up.
"Ah, like that, huh?" Niall laughs throatily against Harry's skin, and Harry nods rapidly as his moans go from low to suddenly quick, strung together, and high pitched.
Niall pinches Harry's nipple hard, flicks it just as he rabbits his hips in a way that drives Harry insane completely. Harry's leg throws over Niall's hip, and he loses his grip on the other so it rests against Niall's shoulder instead, but Harry has to grab onto Niall, grips his bicep and scrapes down his back as he struggles to catch up with everything that's going on. Niall's holding Harry's shirt up, still, so that he can bite and suck at Harry's nipples and Harry cries out each time he does.
"I'm close, I don't - don't think I can hold it, Niall, fuck," Harry pants brokenly and Niall hums against his collarbone, nips a spot there and sucks shortly.
"You can come, Har, it's okay," Niall chuckles against his skin but it's humorless, and Harry knows he's too focused on fucking him now because his hands are holding Harry down, no longer paying attention to his red, puffy nipples.
Harry's still baring down on Niall's thrusts, still works while Niall fucks him. It's so hard not to, so hard to hold back moans, too, and Harry doesn't think he can hold anything back when he feels a pull in the pit of his core. He cries out, suddenly, loud and uncontrolled, as he comes over himself completely untouched. He's never been able to do that before, didn't even think it'd be possible in his life but he's seeing white, shock waves rolling through him as Niall thrusts into him even through the orgasm. Niall slides out of him and Harry clenches around nothing, whines at the lost feeling and pants hard. He doesn't comprehend a lot, wonders if Niall has come already, but he knows he hasn't when he kneels up, pumps his cock quickly while Harry watches, and comes white ribbons on Harry's stomach as well. He's lazily stroking himself now, relaxing back down until he's leaned back over Harry in the same position as before, though Harry's limbs are now limp at their sides, and Harry can feel two things: Niall's softening semi against his hip and labored breath against his lips.
Harry thinks, maybe, Niall is going to kiss him. They've locked eyes; Harry sees Niall's drop down to his lips and back up. But Niall's pulling back up again, bringing along with him his shirt that he'd dropped next to Harry on the floor and, oh, that's why he leaned over. Harry watches Niall pull his joggers up from his thighs to his hips again, and then he stands.
"'m gonna shower and head to sleep. Good luck with your classes tomorrow, yeah?" Niall says, and then he's walking away from Harry and up the stairs.
The only light in the room now is from the city lights outside, barely, and the tv on some kind of commercial. Harry's still on his back, cum-covered, satisfied, and now, a little confused.
//
It's only their first day and yeah, Harry knows it's kind of a get-to-know-the-campus day but Harry's been there before and he's not too worried about getting lost or not finding his classes, so instead he finds his friends and they hang out at the boys' dorm recreation center. No one is really down there but there are lots of people moving in and out trying to find their dorms or load boxes into it. Nick's the only one of them that's staying in the dorm this year so they're allowed in with his pass. Thankfully he's gotten a good room, so Harry won't be that asshole friend that avoids coming over because he doesn't like how dirty it is.
They're shooting pool, or at least Harry and Nick are, while the others wait for a winner to get their next turn. Zayn is on his phone while he waits, and Louis is leaning against his cue and fake snoring when Nick takes too long.
"If you're really that tired of waiting, then you can take my place. I'm not feeling it," Harry says, sighing dramatically until Louis has no choice but to take his place for him.
He lets Louis slide in and goes to the couches that Zayn's taken use of while on his phone. Zayn's legs are propped up on a table so Harry sits next to him, throws his leg over Zayn's and puts his head down on his shoulder. There's a dull aching in his lower stomach and ass as he does so, but he's got no time to think much of it when Zayn leans away from him and frowns up from his phone.
"Whoa there," Zayn says, pushing Harry's side until he's off of Zayn completely.
"What?" Harry asks with a frown while Zayn raises an eyebrow.
"It's a bit queer, innit? You're never this touchy," Zayn tells him, and it's got the attention of Nick and Louis.
Harry feels heat rush through his cheeks and he tries not to let it get to him. Louis looks just as confused as Zayn; he's got the same look as Zayn does, actually. Nick gives Harry a look, but his is softer and turns to a laugh.
"What, Harry queer? Nah, mate. Best puller out of all'a us," he says, smiles at Harry, and takes his shot.
Harry feels a little better when Zayn laughs, though Louis holds his hand up and scoffs.
"Excuse me, boys," he says, nice and loud to get everyone's attention, "but am I not the only one here who has successfully pulled two birds at once?"
Zayn and Louis argue a while, and the game of billiards takes forever to finish up, but eventually it's Nick who loses and Zayn takes his place. He and Louis still argue while they play, and Harry knows this game is going to take longer than the last, but thankfully he knows it'll be entertaining. Harry still thinks about what a close call he had, but it's all better when Nick sits down next to him and nudges his side.
"You alright, mate?" he asks Harry.
Harry smiles a little, says, "Yeah, mate. How've you been, then?"
Nick laughs at him, throws an arm around his shoulders and squeezes. Harry's tee shirt scrunches up with the force of it there and slips off his collar where a faded mark was left by Niall the night before.
(He had discovered it when he finally made himself get up and look in the mirror. His shirt was stretched to shit and he was covered in cum that he wasn't sure which patch is his or Niall's but for some reason he stuck his fingers in it and licked it off. Last night was also the night he sort of discovered that cum doesn't taste as bad as he thought it would.)
Harry doesn't notice that it's showing until Nick's humming and tapping his opposite shoulder. He looks down, catches the mark, and pulls his shirt back up to cover it while Nick chuckles at him.
"You get laid last night or something?" Nick asks him, not loud enough for the others to hear over their loud shoutings of where they can put the white ball after knocking it in.
Harry thinks for a minute. He did, technically, but not the way Nick would think, or hope. He's found that his friends aren't exactly open about a lot of this stuff lately, more so now than ever, because now when they pass things in the campus, Louis will grumble under his breath, or Zayn will roll his eyes, or Nick will look away. If Harry were to casually mention he's had sex with a guy - totally in a straight way - they'd never believe him.
"Or something," Harry finally decides to say instead. Nick looks intrigued.
"You wanna talk?" he asks.
Shrugging, Harry shakes his head. But Nick is up, stretching his arms high above his head while he walks towards the other boys.
"Harry and I are gonna go get something to eat. We'll meet up with you guys later, yeah?" he announces before he's out the door and Harry has no choice but to follow him.
Harry jogs to catch up with Nick, shoving his hands in his pockets when he gets to him and walking along side him in silence. They pass a few more people trying to get into the dorms to set up and step out of the way of some people trying to bring boxes in. It's never ending, it seems, until they get to the open campus lawn and the higher level students are being cool like usual. There's nothing hectic for another few buildings down.
"So," Harry says as he looks up to Nick, "We're not really getting food, are we?"
Nick shakes his head, humming while he walks in no set path at all. Harry follows still, sighs.
"So tell me about your 'or something'," he says, smiling down at Harry. He's a few inches taller, but they're so close that Harry's positive he'll be the taller of the two if he just didn't slouch. But he does, so there's no use in trying.
"Don't really think there's a lot to tell," Harry says, shrugging. Nick doesn't seem convinced.
"You're not gonna like it," Harry mutters to him.
Nick stares at him again while they walk. Harry feels uncomfortable for a moment, wants to twitch and melt away but Nick just seems curious, not mad or upset about what he's gotta say, so Harry decides that, fuck it, it happened and there's no way Harry can get around it.
"I got laid last night," he starts, waits for Nick's reaction but there is none, so he continues, "but I didn't shag a girl."
Again, Harry waits for some kind of reaction out of Nick but there's nothing. He's waiting for laughs, for him to accuse Harry of lying and to tell him good one, like it was some kind of joke that isn't actually a joke. And again, Harry doesn't get anything, and he thinks that no reaction is worse than a reaction at all.
"Look, I know you, like, hate me now but please don't. It's not even a gay thing - I'm not gay! - it just, like, happened. Lots of guys enjoy stuff up their ass." It doesn't sound too convincing, in fact now Nick's just laughing at him.
"Thank god," he says before Harry can beg him to stop or ask him what's wrong or anything. He's smiling, and Harry's confused and terrified. "I thought I was the only one."
Harry relaxes a little, shoulders slumped but his back is still tensed up. "The only one that likes that kinda stuff? No, I mean, my flat mate told me that lots of guys like that kind of stuff and it's not all that bad when I got to do it," he rambles hopelessly but Nick shakes his head.
"No, I mean the only one that likes doing stuff with other guys," Nick says casually. Harry stops.
"What?" he asks, and Nick smiles at him.
"Thought I'd never get to tell you guys. Zayn and Lou are always so, like, judgmental about it so I've never brought it up. I'm gay," Nick says confidently.
Harry stares in awe at him. It's like seeing a mythical creature or something, or finding out that your gym teacher has had a wooden leg all along. (Okay, maybe not.) He's known Nick for a good two years now and never once has he heard anything even close to him being gay, and it's kind of weird to think of him like that after all their conversations about girls they've pulled over the years. Was Nick just lying about it this whole time? Was he just trying to fit it? Was he uncomfortable with any of this?
Nick's still smiling as they walk and he looks ahead of him, unlike Harry, who trips over uneven ground. His stomach tightens up and he can feel the burning in his core again. Nick holds his arm, tilts his head down to get a look at Harry's face.
"Good?" he asks, and Harry nods.
He gestures towards a concrete ledge in the lawn and they take a seat down on it for a second. It's quiet while they do, because Harry doesn't know what to say and Nick seems content enough with them sitting there. Harry worries his bottom lip in his teeth and leans forward, puts his elbows on his knees and thinks.
"So. You're gay," he says, and again, Nick nods.
"Yeah. Are you?" Nick questions as he leans back, opposite of Harry, who has to turn his entire body to see Nick's face as he says it.
The look on his face is genuinely curious but also knowing, and Harry's is just pure hatred. He's offended that Nick would ask, because he's clearly not, and he's said that he's not when he admitted it. Nick laughs at him, reaching out to poke his side before he nodded his head back so that Harry will lay back with him.
"It's okay if you're not," Nick tells him. "You don't have to be gay to enjoy a shag with another guy, I suppose. Who was he? Do you know him?"
Harry stays quiet while he leans back and rests on his palms. He looks up to the sky, kind of downcast but a nice enough day not to wear a coat. It fits the mood: conflicted and on the verge of something either nice or awful, just like Harry.
"My new flat mate," Harry admits quietly, purses his lips and sucks his lower one.
Nick's quiet. "Well shit," he says after a few minutes of silence between them.
"Well shit indeed," Harry agrees.
//
It's been a month and Harry doesn't think about what happened much any more. Niall never brings it up and neither does Nick, so there's not much that makes him think about it. Harry's come to the conclusion that what he did isn't gay, in fact, because he never kissed Niall and what they did was purely for the need of getting off, not because he likes Niall like that, because he doesn't. At first he thought that it would be easier just to be gay because then he'll have fucked a guy and not think anything of it, but that's not the case, and Harry tried really hard to like Niall for a while but he can't make himself. He still looks at girls and admires them, still doesn't see anything in guys. He's just not gay.
//
It happens again, when Harry's really not expecting it to. He's just coming home from morning classes so he thinks he has the whole rest of the day to himself while Niall is gone at work, and he decides that maybe it'll be okay to fuck around upstairs and get off while he can, while no one else is in the condo but himself. Niall shouldn't be home for another six hours so he doesn't rush into it, eats a little snack first, gets comfortable in sweats and puts his hair in a bun.
It's a nice day outside and Harry contemplates letting the sun stream in through the windows in his bedroom but, even though he's on the third floor, he's worried about being seen. He shuts the curtains, can still see sunlight through them, but he knows he won't be seen from the landing. Harry finds no use in closing his door, though, because there's no one else in the house just like last time and if a certain someone does end up coming home, he'll be able to hear with the door open and slam it shut if he needs to.
This time there's no use in watching porn because he's gotten on fine without it last time, was able to come without watching and imagining. He sinks into bed with the bottle of lube and a box of tissues, shifts his sweats down and off, and strokes himself lazily. It only takes a few moments for him to thicken up against his thigh, for him to lube his fingers up and stroke himself into his full, hard length. With the help of subconsciously tweaking his nipple as well, Harry thinks maybe he's gotten hard even faster.
It's hard not to let his mind wander as he rocks his hips up into his hand, lets his body go through a wave as he does. His legs draw up and spread, his head tilts back while he wets his fingertip with precum, and normally he'd rub it in with the rest of the lube but he's curious now. Harry brings his finger up, darts his tongue out, and licks the few drops onto his tongue. It makes him shiver as he thinks back to that night, looking at himself in the mirror with a cum covered tummy and tasting it with a pure innocence and curiosity. Now he kind of wants to see it again, but shudders and swats the thought away.
Harry coats his fingers with lube instead, bringing them down to his rim and circling it. Again he thinks back to rough finger tips, scolds himself for it. His middle finger eases into easiest, and it's a little weird fingering himself on his back, but he curls his finger just like Niall had and it's so much easier to find his prostate now than it had been before when he was on his hands and knees. Gasping, Harry makes a come hither motion and strokes the spot slow. Instantly his cock starts leaking, more than it had been before. A name is on the tip of his tongue, but he can't say it.
"Shit," he hears, and his eyes widen as he sits up and throws a pillow over his spread legs, hand, and cock.
It's not like it isn't obvious where his hand is or what he's doing, but that's all Harry can think to do, think to even think of at the moment. Niall's standing at the doorway, hand on the doorknob with a surprised look on his face. Harry only swallows. God. If he wasn't so busy thinking about Niall, he probably would've noticed him coming home, or at least noticed him walk into his room.
"No, no, don't let me interrupt. Just wanted to say I'm, I'm home for lunch," Niall says. He sounds just as flustered as Harry is.
But he doesn't leave. He's standing in the doorway and his eyes are burning holes in Harry's skin. Harry feels his entire body flush; he wants to shy away from the moment, float out of the vent in the ceiling and never come back, but he's never had his breath hitch faster than it had when he watches Niall bring his hand to the front of his slacks and press his palm down on his crotch. He licks his lips, looks over Harry's body agonizingly slow.
"Really. Go on," Niall breaths out.
Harry can't say no, really, and he slowly drags the pillow away from his body. Niall can only see the side of him this way so Harry takes executive action and moves his body to face Niall fully, drags his body around the mattress slow so that Niall never takes his eyes off of him. When Harry's on his back again, his legs spread open and he lifts his hips so he can start all over again and pretend as though Niall is no longer there. His middle finger slips back inside of him, but he gives a showy moan, gasping as his fingertip makes contact with his prostate once again. He strokes, puts his other hand under himself to hold some of his body weight up.
Harry's head is tilted to the side and with his body lifted like this, he can't see anything past his thighs, can't see what he's doing, but he can see Niall still palming himself. His finger twists while he presses another into himself, this time moaning long and throaty - which Niall likes, he finds, because he licks his lips and slips a hand into his slacks. Harry uses his two finger to pet at his prostate and it will definitely drive him over the edge soon; it's all he needs, the two fingers rubbing slow circles into that tingly bundle of nerves while he rocks his hips down onto little thrusts. He's panting by now, and his hips move quicker while he rides his fingers and yes, he amplifies his moans just to Niall's enjoyment.
It's all working well, Harry can see as Niall pumps his cock quickly, but then it's working too well, and Harry's screaming out NiallNiallNiallNiaaaaaall as his body tenses up, eyes shut tight, and he shoots a few spurts of cum onto his tummy. When he opens his eyes again, Niall's no longer in the doorway, and Harry finds himself a little disappointed that he wasn't able to watch him get off as well.
He cleans off his stomach, pulls on his sweats again and peeks his head out of his bedroom door. Harry can see into Niall's room and the door to his bathroom isn't shut, and obviously neither is his bedroom, so Harry assumes he's downstairs. He jogs down, peeks around the corner and sees Niall making something in the kitchen. There's no real reason why Harry should be shy about this - Niall asked for it, Harry did what he was told. So he strolls in casually and goes to the kitchen for a glass of water.
"What're you making? Smells good," Harry says while he pours himself a glass and leans against the counter across from Niall.
Niall's on him so fast that if Harry would've blinked, he'd have missed it. Niall's pressing him hard into the counter top, takes the drink from Harry's hand and holds Harry's chin. Harry's so much taller than Niall, bigger in general, that he thinks this must be a joke and he's about to push Niall off of him when Niall's knee pushes between Harry's, locks him in place with a hand on one side of his hip. Harry can't move despite himself, and, like - yeah, maybe he thinks it's hot the way Niall's got him pinned down. Niall's hard against his hip, and Harry gasps as Niall pulls Harry's chin down to look at him.
"Think you were being cute, teasing me like that?" Niall grunts to him, grinding his hips down on Harry's while his fingers dug into his side.
"'m sorry, thought you -" Harry starts, but Niall hits his cheek. It's not hard, not even a slap, but it gets Harry's attention when Niall's teeth nip his bottom lip after.
"I'm not done talking, princess. Wait your turn," he hums to Harry, and Harry scoffs.
"I'm not your princess, I'm not a -" again, Harry's shut up but this time Niall's lips are on his, muffling his words into garbles while wet lips slip and slide. Niall's tongue shoves into Harry's mouth, teeth gnash and it's sloppy, all too sloppy, but Harry's melting into it. He's pliant the way Niall moves him, pushes his hips down, and Harry feels himself getting lower and lower until Niall's somehow over him and then his knees hit the ground, hard. Harry looks up to him, confused, before Niall grips the back of his neck and pushes his face into his crotch.
"Mm, there you go. Like my cock in your face, princess?" Niall grunts to him, smirks down at him while Harry holds Niall's thighs.
Harry's more into it than he should be, and, like, he's not gay but he likes the way Niall is pushing him around a lot more than he should. He mouths at the bulged front of Niall's slacks and Niall holds his head back while he unzips, unbuttons, and untucks until his length is inches from Harry's face. There's a rush of excitement that bolts through his spine as Harry reaches a hand up, making contact with Niall's cock in the palm of his hand. Harry wets his lips again and looks up to Niall for further instructions.
"Fucking suck already," he mutters, and Harry takes that as orders enough.
He's about to do it, too, when suddenly the idea of putting someone else's cock in his mouth springs back into his mind and it's too much, definitely is. He hears Niall groan above him but it doesn't make him want to do it, so Niall takes the lead then, and holds Harry's head still by his bun while he guides the head of his cock against the seam of his lips. Harry swallows thickly, whines in the back of his throat while his lips wet with precum Niall's leaking.
"Suck," Niall tells him, and this time Harry parts his lips just enough to let Niall run the head of his cock over his tongue.
Niall tastes good, much better than what Harry had tasted from himself a few minute ago up in his room. Harry's lips part a little more and Niall's sliding into his mouth the wider he opens, lips curled around his teeth for good measure. It's weird, the weight on Harry's tongue, but Harry flattens his tongue as Niall's cock slides across it and, eventually, hits the back of his throat. Niall moans long and throaty as he tries to slide down Harry's throat, but Harry chokes, eyes tear up as he hits Niall's tip. He grunts, rolls his eyes, but starts to slide back out of Harry's mouth.
"Relax your throat, princess. Just relax," he coos at Harry, stroking his cheek while his other hand plants firmly in Harry's hair. Harry takes a deep breath, decides to take Niall on his own now, and wraps his fingers around the base of his cock. He licks at Niall's dripping slit, cautiously sucks on his tip for a moment, earning a pleased sound from Niall and a sharp tug to the hair at the top of his head.
It's all about breathing now, Harry knows, and he's not really sure how to handle it until he's taking Niall's cock into his mouth again, about halfway when he realizes that he has to breathe entirely through his nose. He pumps the base of Niall's cock a few times, gets a squeeze of impatience as Niall bucks his hips forward, aimed right for the back of his throat. Harry chokes again, glaring up at Niall through teary eyes before taking a deep breath and sliding Niall slowly down the back of his throat. He hollows his cheeks and holds Niall's thigh, but apparently all his movements are just too slow for Niall and Niall thrusts his hips again, takes Harry by the back of the hair, and fucks his throat.
Harry's gasping for breath, choking and gagging, but Niall still doesn't let up on his thrusts. Harry can't see through tears that he can't help and he's going all light headed but fuck, Niall's face is red and the vein in his neck is bulging as he rabbits his hips.
Niall doesn't last long, or at least Harry doesn't think so but then again he's completely lost track of time in between gasping for air and Niall moaning so loudly. There's warmth dripping down Harry's throat as Niall thrusts still, and Harry coughs and sputters as he feels Niall soften on his tongue. He slides out of Harry's mouth, hums, and brushes his fingertip down Harry's cheek.
"Good princess," Niall breaths as Harry swallows, checking his watch after. He tucks himself back into place and grabs something from the microwave above the oven.
"I gotta get going back to the office, but I'll see you later tonight," he says, winks over his shoulder, and then he's left Harry kneeling on the cold kitchen floor.
//
"You did it again?" Nick asks as they sit on opposite sides of his dorm room. Harry nods, frowns at the way Nick asks, all full of shock and a little bit of disgust to it.
"I mean, like - it wasn't totally. I fingered myself while he watched and sucked him off... and we kissed," he admits reluctantly.
He's come to Nick for advice now, after a new dilemma had arisen. Last time it wasn't a big deal because Niall told him it wasn't gay, and Nick agreed that maybe he doesn't have to be gay to fuck a guy, but this time there was more to it. Harry had kissed Niall, and he'd put his cock in his mouth. That's a well enough reason for Harry to panic.
Nick nods at him, looks sympathetic as he says, "that's a little more intimate than just fucking, don't you think?"
"Yes, I do think, and that's why I've come to you to calm me down and not make me feel even worse about it," Harry huffs at him and frowns.
Nick raises his hands up at Harry as if to say he's sorry for bringing it up. Harry sulks a little, sinks down into Nick's roommate's bed with a deep sigh. Nick stands then, crossing over to Harry's side of the room and rubbing his back.
"Maybe he doesn't know what he's doing to you," Nick suggests, but it's unhelpful and vague but also kind of obvious.
Harry looks to him, frowning. "What do you mean?" he asks.
"Well, you know." Nick waves his hand in the air, like he's dismissing it, but keeps talking. "Maybe he's gay and looking for a fuck buddy. Maybe he just really doesn't know what he's doing to you, screwing with your mind and stuff."
Harry thinks about it for a minute. No, no, it can't be right, he thinks, because Niall had asked him if he was gay in the first place, a few times, actually, and Harry's mentioned to Niall before they started all this that he's not interested in guys. And he's not still, so that's why this is all bothering him - not the fact that he likes it, so much, because there are always straight guys that like to be pushed around, right? He sighs. Sure.
"He mentioned something going wrong with his last flat mate," Harry says, looking up to Nick who raises an eyebrow in interest.
"Did he say what it was about?" he asks.
Harry shakes his head no, sighs, "nah."
"Maybe talk to him about all this the next time you two get the chance to talk. I have a feeling there's something connecting all this with his last flat mate, too," Nick tells him.
Harry nods. He can do that - he hopes.
//
Harry gets back home before Niall does that evening, and Harry thinks it's for the best so that he can catch Niall before he gets into more work so they can talk. It's about to turn 17:45, right when Niall should be getting home, but Harry never hears the garage door open. He doesn't hear the front door, he doesn't hear keys jingling, nothing. It's late and Harry's anxious more than anything for the longest time. It's 18:30 when the garage door finally does go off and Harry can hear Niall's car pull in. He wonders what takes him so long, but he's just glad he's home.
It feels like forever that Niall takes to get up the stairs, but Harry feels relieved when he gets to the landing and walks in. Harry watches as Niall sets a box down on his desk, takes his coat of and sets it on the back of his chair, then takes the box with him to the dining room.
"Hey, can we talk?" Harry asks him, but he's not met with a response.
He drops his head down on the couch and sighs, turns completely around so that he's facing the tv, the back of his head facing in Niall's direction. He hears shuffling while Harry shakes his head.
"Niall," he says, this time greeted with a 'hm?' so he responses with, "can we talk?"
"Yeah, what about?" Niall asks.
Harry silently thanks God that Niall agrees with him, and he clicks the tv mute button. He takes a deep breath and he's about to come clean with it, but before he can turn around and say anything, Niall beats him to it.
"Listen," Niall says, and Harry has to crane his neck backwards against the back of the couch to see Niall standing behind him, and - wait, are those girl's knickers in his his hand?
"You're gonna wear these, I'm gonna fuck you in them, and you're gonna like it. Understand?" he asks, which has Harry stuttering.
"Um, what?"
"You heard me," Niall says again. He puts the panties in the box he pulled them from, then hands the box over to Harry. "Go change and meet me in my room. I want you nice and pretty, princess," he coos, and then his phone goes off and he takes the call out on the balcony.
Harry has the box in his hands but he's not sure what to do with it. He doesn't want to look inside of it because he's scared of what he might find and this, this is definitely crossing a line if there ever were any to begin with. When he looks up, Niall is staring at him through the glass doors and gestures to the stairs. Taking his defeat, Harry hauls himself up and goes to his bedroom.
The box is placed on his bed and Harry stares long and hard at it. There's no way he's going to wear panties for Niall because he's not some queer boy that likes that, but he feels as though something else might happen to him if he doesn't put it on right away, like Niall's going to force him down on his knees again - but worse, he thinks, because this is something much worse than teasing, like he had done before. Instead of looking inside, Harry inspects the box's outsides, which seem pretty plain. The lid is black, the box itself is striped black and pink, and there's gold lettering from some shop he's never heard of. He figures it's local.
With a deep breath and a silent encouragement, Harry lifts the lid of the box to come face to face with what he doesn't want to see. Not only has Niall gotten him panties, but there's a corset there as well that Harry's sure is too small for him. The corset is lace completely, black and definitely meant to give an impression. The lace layers to form patterns, and there's satin looking ribbon that ties in the back. Attached to it is the bra, the same kind of sheer black lace that the corset and panties are. There are suspenders that hang from the bottom of the corset for stockings that are tied with a bow at the bottom of the box, and Harry thinks he might break down. It's pretty, but how can he wear something like this?
It takes Harry ages to even psych himself into wearing it. He undresses, but that's as far as he can go to pulling the lingerie on. It's just so - it's not him, not at all. He stares at it for a while, thinks about what he would put on first, thinks about if maybe he'd actually like it. Niall hasn't yet steered him wrong when it comes to kinks, so, maybe he could put it on just to see for himself. He picks up the pieces of clothing and admires them for a second or two before he catches the price; they're more expensive than this month's rent on Harry's part and Harry thinks that, yeah, okay - if Niall's gonna spend this much on him then he can at least repay him by wearing it once.
The panties are what he first puts on, notices that they're an almost perfect fit. They're black lace just like the rest of the lingerie and they're scratchy against Harry's flaccid cock as he puts them on. Harry sees in his bedroom mirror that they hug him in just the right places except for one; his ass looks great, but what he doesn't like about them is that his little love handles are curved out more than he'd like them to be. He thinks maybe the corset will help, so he gets it on and struggles with lacing up the back ribbon for a few minutes until it's on. Thankfully it fits, and Niall's even got the cup size of the bra small enough that it's flush with his chest when he looks in the mirror. It's so pretty, Harry thinks as he stares at himself in the mirror, that even he looks pretty. Well - as pretty as a man can get, anyway.
His pride is hurting as he stares longer and longer at himself, but there's no time for it. The longer he looks, the weirder he feels, so he throws an old towel over the mirror and stalks back over to the box. In it still sits the stocking he's supposed to put on so he takes a seat on the edge of his bed and slides them on. His thighs are so thick that they start to slide down his leg again, or rather push, so Harry has to stretch them up high again and hook them in place with the suspenders of the corset. It's stupid, Harry thinks.
There's a knock on his door as soon as Harry's done snapping them into place, and Harry sighs deeply. He stands, strides over to the door and hides behind it as he pulls it open, but he's met with nothing. Furrowing his eyebrows, Harry peeks his head out of the door and looks around the door trim, but there's no Niall until he catches sight of his bedroom door. It's open and the overhead lights are off, but there's a dim yellow glow coming from somewhere in the room and Harry knows that Niall's waiting for him there. Harry sighs and walks to it.
He's right, of course. As he stands in the doorway, Harry finally gets to see inside of Niall's room. There's a little nook where the door and the door to the bathroom are kept, but it opens up to a much larger room than Harry's own. On the bed sits Niall, still in his dress pants, lilac button up, and black tie.
"Don't be shy," Niall coos to him from where he's sat, loosening the knot of his tie as he stares at what he can see of Harry's body, "Daddy wants to see how good you look, princess."
It makes Harry's breath hitch, the way Niall says it, and this shouldn't - it shouldn't be a thing, because neither of them agreed to be fuck buddies or anything, and what Niall's saying sounds sort of too intimate for something like that, in Harry's opinion. He shudders, steps out into the open where he feels all too naked in front of Niall's hard stare. Harry could die.
"Come over here. Be a good girl," he hears Niall say, and this time, this time it's too much.
"I'm not a girl," Harry huffs to Niall, stomps a foot while Niall raises an eyebrow.
"Now now, don't be a brat. Get over here," Niall commands. Harry glares.
"No."
Niall's standing, then, goes over to Harry who has his arms crossed over his chest and tugs Harry's chin down. Harry can't help a wave of nervousness wash over him, can't help the way his throat goes tight. He wants to swallow but he can't. Niall just holds him.
"Disobedient little girl, huh? Daddy's gotta teach you a lesson."
Harry's suddenly grabbed by the hips while Niall kicks his ankles apart, and then there are hands under his ass and he barely has any time to grab onto Niall before he's lifted. Harry scoffs, gasps, wonders how Niall can even manage to pick someone up that's gotta have four inches on him, but Niall walks them backwards until he's sitting on the edge of the bed and Harry drops into his lap. He's pushed to the side, landing with a huff of breath, and both his legs are moved to the opposite side of Niall before his panties are ripped down and a firm hand lands on his ass with a smack.
"Oh my god," Harry rushes out in a breath, grips the bedding under his hands.
Niall hums, rubbing his hand into the swell of Harry's ass where it stings, and then he does it again. "Like that, baby girl?" he coos. "See what Daddy has to do to disobedient little girls?"
Harry shouldn't like it, tries not to, but his cock is twitching with every swat and he's biting his knuckle hard. He knows Niall likes it; he can feel his arousal against his bare upper thigh and slides his knees up so that he can prop up in a way that his ass is even higher than before. Niall lands one last smack, one that stings more than the rest but god, Harry loves it.
"That's it," Niall hums above him, running his hand down Harry's ass and squeezing his balls before his hand goes further and strokes Harry until he's hard and thick in his hand.
"Are you still stretched from earlier today, sweetie?" Niall asks him.
Harry chews his lip, rests his shoulders against the bedding while he looks over his shoulder. "Dunno," he answers weakly.
Niall's grabbed Harry's hips again, picks them up like a rag doll and folds them under Harry while he stands. Harry falls to his side, curled in a ball as he watches Niall go to his nightstand. Niall fishes out a bottle of lube, and then drops a black dildo on the bed close to the pillows. Harry's eyes widen and he stares at Niall while he scoffs.
"What is that?" he asks, sits up and leans on his palm.
"This," Niall hums, picks up the dildo and uses a suction cup to stick it to the headboard, "is what you're gonna use to stretch out on."
Harry gives him this look, glares at him and tilts his head, while Niall uncaps the lube and spreads a layer of it onto the toy. It's unbelievable, because Harry knows for a fact that he is not going to do it, refuses to from his very core. Niall walks over to him, though, strokes his cheek and mutters, "what a pretty baby," and Harry kind of melts. Niall tilts his head up, leans down, and places a kiss on his lips.
"Go on, princess, Daddy wants to watch," Niall encourages as he pulls back up and Harry feels like he has no choice.
Harry's not exactly sure how to do this, not sure where to start, but Niall's watching him so intently as he pulls his tie off and Harry wants to try his hardest to please him. He shifts up to the headboard where Niall has the toy waiting for him, faces his back to it, and grips the tip of the toy in his fist. Niall's still staring, opening up the front of his button up while Harry takes a deep breath and guides the toy to his rim.
It takes Harry a minute to psych himself into doing it, knows in the back of his mind that it'll be worth it, but this is different than a few fingers or a cock. It's hard to explain but Harry doesn't like it, doesn't like the fake feeling of it as he sinks his hips down on it and then falls to his hands and knees. Niall's still watching him closely, stepping out of his work trousers as Harry takes the whole toy with a wince and slides back off of it. He stretches around it, relaxes, and rocks his hips back.
By now Niall's got his shirt off, is taking off his boxers while Harry rocks back at an even pace. He's not quite panting yet but he's switching between moans and gasps of breath. His eyes are closed, so the only indicator that Niall's gotten on the bed is the way it dips when he sets his knees on it. Harry feels him crawl forward until the weight stops right in from of Harry, and when he opens his eyes, Niall's cock is right in front of him, hard and leaking.
"'m gonna fuck your mouth while you fuck yourself, got it?" Niall tells him, tips Harry's chin up so he's watching as he says it.
Nodding, Harry finds himself opening his mouth obediently, making a noise of praise leave Niall's lips. He grips his length, gives two quick strokes before he guides it into Harry's mouth and his soft, plump lips wrap around the head easily. Niall pets his hair in a soothing way while his cock slides to the back of his mouth, warns Harry with a scratch behind his ear before he's making his way down Harry's throat. At first he's not ready, gags a little, but Niall stills and pets Harry's hair until he's ready and is able to slide in further.
There's a tightening in Harry's hair and then his head is held still while Niall pulls out and bucks his hips fast. Harry's so not ready that he nearly sputters, covers his teeth with his lips while Niall wrecks his mouth and makes the back of his throat raw. Harry's thrown between the dildo and Niall's cock and he barely has time to breathe before whimpering and moaning.
"God, got such a good mouth, baby. You know that? Know that you have such a filthy fucking mouth?" Niall growls, yanks Harry's hair back and makes him keen.
Harry finds himself close, so close that he's desperate, and he brings his hand up to his cock but Niall slaps his hand away so fast that Harry nearly loses his balance and falls onto his shoulders. He whines, gagged by Niall's cock to the point that tears are now dripping down his cheeks without his approval and he can feel how stripped his throat is. Niall's rabbiting his hips; Harry knows he's close, too.
"Think you're ready for Daddy's cock? Daddy wants to fuck you, fill you up with his cum when he's done. Ready, baby girl? Ready for Daddy's cum?" Niall coos, breathy and rushed. Harry moans a yes, but all Niall can feel is vibrations.
"Come on, love," he mutters, sliding his dick out of Harry's mouth and pulling him off of the dildo. He sits back on his ass, spreads his legs out and leans back on his palms. "You're gonna ride me 'til we both come."
Harry doesn't know if he can do it. His thighs are aching from stretching out on that dildo and he's sore, doesn't know if he can take Niall's cock raw. Niall's glistening with Harry's saliva and Harry's lubed, but - it's different, and he doesn't know if he can. But he climbs up and straddles Niall's thighs, using a hand on Niall's chest and one on his shoulder to steady himself.
"Hurry up. Daddy's waiting," Niall huffs impatiently, and Harry feels like he has no choice.
He shifts up onto Niall's lap further, takes a deep breath as he grinds his ass back on Niall's cock. Niall moans and Harry knows he's doing something right, especially when Niall grabs him by the fat of his ass and squeezes tight. Harry drops his head down on Niall's shoulder and whines, skin heated with embarrassment. Niall kisses his ear.
"You can do it, princess. Come on," he encourages against the shell of Harry's ear.
Harry takes a deep breath, tells himself he can do it, and reaches behind him until he's got Niall's cock in his fingers. It takes him a second, but he lifts up and, on shaky thighs, guides Niall's tip to his rim and slides him in. His breath hitches and Niall grunts while Harry begins to sink down onto his shaft, warm and slick around Niall. He's bigger than the toy is, makes Harry pant into his neck, but Niall's still impatient as ever and slaps Harry's thigh hard to get him to move on again. Harry rises with uneasy thighs and ruts his hips down, makes circles and grinds. It's so good, so so good, that he's bouncing without Niall telling him to, moaning out small breaths of, "oh god, Daddy." It's so embarrassing, but Harry can't help himself.
"Faster," Niall gruffs out, grabs one of Harry's thighs and reaches up to grip Harry's neck. Harry's startled at first, doesn't know what exactly Niall's doing and wants to pry him off, but Niall's fingers squeeze tighter and Harry, well, he kind of likes it. His cock twitches, bobs as he bounces, and Niall's squeezing his fingers so tightly around Harry's neck that Harry clenches on Niall's cock as he comes. His orgasm rips through his body, shuddering and loud.
Harry's done for, can't bounce any more or do anything, really, so Niall takes lead. He lays them on their sides, lifts Harry's leg up while he thrusts to come with Harry, too, and Harry's so oversensitive that he's nearly sobbing out pained moans and digging his nails into Niall's side. There's a warmth that fills Harry suddenly and he feels dirty as Niall pulls out of him. His hole gapes open and clenches on nothing, feeling sticky as cum clings to his rim.
Harry's eyes are glazed still as he tries to process what's just happened, how he's managed to be wearing cum stained lingerie and leaking some other man's cum. But there are strong arms around him, pulling him to a strong chest. A hand pets his hair and down his back, legs tangle his, and soft lips whisper sweet praises of, "you did such a good job, baby girl," and, "my beautiful princess, you were so good for Daddy," into his hair.
//
Harry wakes up in the morning to no one in bed. And, yeah, it sucks, but he's not expecting it. Niall's there for the fucking, and like, that's cool - whatever. It's not like Harry ends up sobbing in Niall's bed for a solid fifteen minutes before he gets up finally (except he totally does). He's sore all over, and it doesn't help the fact that he would've liked someone to wake up and complain to. But it's not a big deal. It was a one time (or three time) thing. Harry's going to put his foot down next time.
He can't keep doing this, he thinks to himself. As he walks to his bedroom, he's sore as all shit and sticky and sweaty. All Harry can smell off of himself is sex and, oh, is that shame? Yes. Definitely. Harry needs to scrub himself clean. He needs to burn this stupid lingerie that Niall got him, not only because he'll never be using it again, but because the black lace of the corset has a big fucking cum stain on it and he's not sure how he's supposed to get it off anyway.
The shower is nice, though; it makes him feel warm as he scrubs away all the remnants of last night from his body. He feels something as he cleans himself out of cum, something like pain, but it's all the way in the pit of his stomach and his chest. It hurts worse than anything Niall's put him through and he doesn't know why he's going through it. Maybe it's just, like, his heart trying to catch up with how hard he was panting last night. Yeah.
Harry keeps telling himself this as he goes downstairs to the kitchen. Niall's left him breakfast in the oven which is, well - it's sweet, Harry will admit. He eats his warm eggs and bacon while he sits on the couch alone.
The rest of the day is kind of, like, sucky to say the least. Harry doesn't want to go to his classes and he doesn't want to see the sun, but the whole condo is filled with light and no amount of blinds and curtains is fixing that.
Can we go get coffee before class ?
I'm waiting for you at the door, u here?
dude are u ok ?
heyy text me when you get this, we're worried about you
nick won't quit fukin bothering me come back to meet us
are you sick???
HARRY STYLES
His friends won't quit texting him, but no amount of texts makes Harry want to pick up his phone. Ever since breakfast he's been sitting there, staring at a blank tv screen while he thinks about life. The phone buzzes a few more times during the day but Harry can't make himself look at them. In some way he's hiding from his friends, but he knows he can't hide forever, because sooner or later Niall's going to come through that door and he's going to have to face what they did together.
They've fucked. Like, three times now, if Harry counts the blow job (which he does), and each time he thinks they can't go any further, and somehow Niall pushes him to it. He's scared for what will happen the fourth or fifth time they do, so Harry decides to stop it right there. Yeah, fucking is one thing, but what they did last night - last night crossed too many lines that Harry's not willing to keep crossing. Maybe it would've been something if Niall hadn't come in him, maybe it would've been something if he hadn't held him after. It was all too intimate in Harry's opinion and that's what he didn't like about it. He can't be thinking about Niall like this.
Harry wants to just hide the rest of his life, to just be away from everyone in humanity until he figures this out. He can hide from Louis and Zayn and Nick for a while, sure, but he can't avoid the inevitability of Niall walking through their front door and seeing Harry. Yes, Harry could hide in his room, but. That's what a wuss would do and Harry Styles is no wuss.
It seems way too soon when Niall does come home, though. Harry's heart pounds in his chest with every step Niall takes up the steps, a gentle thud thud thud that Harry's come to know way too well. There's a good moment of silence as Niall takes off his shoes at the wooden flooring but he does glance up and Harry and he make eye contact. Niall smiles, Harry does, too. But his seems fake compared to Niall, who doesn't seem to be phased by any of this at all.
Harry wants to say something. God, it's straining in his throat and Harry can't make himself push it out, but he wants to, oh so badly. Niall walks around the room and Harry's eyes follow him until he can't turn his head any more. It's just a few words. We need to talk. But Harry's mouth can't physically form the words and his throat is still stripped raw from last night - and from crying a few dozen times today. He hopes he doesn't look like it, though.
The words never come up. Niall never says anything, either, so Harry lets it go. He just knows he can't let anything go further than what it has already.
//
Three days later, Harry's pretty sure he's close to being done healing mentally. Yes, he still thinks about Niall, but he thinks that he can finally say what he wants to when it's the right time. He's practiced how to ask Niall if they can talk in the mirror while Niall's gone and has decided that the best time to do it would be over dinner, when Niall's not in the middle of work on his laptop or watching one of his shows. Harry's ready.
He comes down the stairs from his bedroom just as Niall gets home from work. Harry sits down on one side of the couch, his usual side, the side that Niall fucked him on, and turns on the tv on a low volume because he expects Niall to be working on his laptop again when he gets back. Instead, Niall loosens his tie and waltzes over to the couch, plops himself right down onto the couch next to Harry. It seems way too much like that first time and Harry's skin starts to crawl uncomfortably.
It turns out it is too much like last time. Niall's arm drapes over the back of the couch behind Harry, his fingers brush against the back of his neck, and he's about to lean in to connect with Harry's neck when Harry raises his elbow and puts a boundary between them. Niall pulls back puzzles, but Harry keeps his gaze on the tv.
"We can't keep doing this," he tells Niall calmly, and yeah, it's not how he practiced before, but it's still composed and he thinks maybe Niall will understand.
"Why not?" Niall asks. It's like a little scoff.
"Because I'm not gay." Harry shakes his head, doesn't take his eyes off the screen.
Pursing his lips, Niall sits back until he doesn't have any weight leaned on Harry at all. His thigh is still pressed to Harry's. Harry's skin is too hot there.
"You don't have to be gay to fuck around a little," Niall says, shrugging.
Harry doesn't answer him. He's pretty sure, or hopes, that the deep set frown on his face is enough to tell Niall that he's not kidding. Niall doesn't seem to be getting it and Harry's not sure what's so hard to wrap around the fact that Harry is not gay and will not be gay. He refuses. Niall surprises him, though. He takes his arm away and props his feet up on the coffee table like nothing had come between them. And then it's quiet. Even with the tv, Harry feels itchy all over.
"What happened to your old flat mate?" he asks Niall in a soft voice.
"What do you think happened," Niall grunts back. It's not even a question, and Harry's heart sinks. Drowns.
It's then that Harry realizes that, maybe, he hasn't been the first Niall's fucked with.
//
Harry's sobbing again, an absolute wreck in his bedroom. He's not sure if Niall's heard him or not but it's to the point where both sides of Harry's pillow are wet and he can't turn to another side to cry into. The pain in his heart is heavy. He shouldn't be crying over a boy. A stupid, stupid boy.
It's late and Harry doesn't care. He has a thought, shoots up and sits. That stupid boy is in the other room and Harry wants him, so so badly. It's only seconds before he's wiped his eyes and bolts out of his room and to Niall's down the hall. He realizes that he's in his stupid Christmas llama pajamas in the middle of fall but he doesn't care. He hopes Niall won't care.
Niall's awake in his room; Harry can tell by the soft, dim light of his phone against the outlines of his face. Harry knows where his body is enough to pounce. He grabs his face, makes him drop his phone while he kisses him hard. It's desperate, wanting, needing, and Niall's grabbing at his sides to pull his body against his own, but slowly Harry's heated kiss turns sensual and caring. It's not so much snogging any more a passionate string of kisses as they sigh against each other's mouths. Niall's so warm and so strong and Harry wants to climb onto him - he already has, basically, though; he's sitting on Niall's lap, not straddling, and Niall's arms are wrapped up tightly around him to keep him close as possible.
Harry's hands slide down Niall's cheeks and neck to his shoulders, wrap around him, and then his face is in his neck. Niall says nothing but Harry knows he can feel his wet eyelashes against his skin. Harry blinks slow, presses a lingering peck to a freckle on Niall's neck, and in a few minutes, he's asleep.
//
There's a beeping that wakes Harry up in the morning but he never opens his eyes. He could swear that it's coming from somewhere outside, or maybe he's being pushed under water and it's right next to him. Everything feels so sluggish, but then it's gone. Something moves around him. He can't tell.
Yeah, there's definitely something touching him. Harry feels a wet kiss to his ear and gentle fingertips caressing his side. His eyes almost flutter open but something in his gut tells him to enjoy it while he can. The fingertips brush his hip and walk down his thighs. They're back up, then, under Harry's chin while lips kiss his forehead, and then the fingertips are skimming his body. Harry feels tickles down his bare arm, feels fingertips in his side. He feels a hand splay over his lower tummy and Harry shifts, purrs and tilts his head a different way like he's sleeping. Now, head against a firm chest, Harry hears the quick, gentle beating of a nervous heart.
Carefully, an arm slips under Harry's thighs and one under his back until he's cradled, and then the body slips out from under him and Harry's rested on soft sheets. A blanket is pulled over him and he's tucked in with three kisses: one to his forehead, and one to each of his cheeks. Then he's left alone, and Harry managed to fall back asleep happy.
//
Harry makes them dinner that night so that it's ready right when Niall gets home. Right when he walks in the door, Harry smiles at him, holds up a frying pan of battered chicken he's attempting to fry like Niall's done it for him a few times. There's a salad already made in the fridge and Harry has some rice cooking, too. Maybe it was a bit overboard, but Harry wants to.
"Made dinner," he calls to Niall as the older shucks off his jacket and loosens his tie.
"Smells good. I gotta get going on work when I'm done, though," Niall says as he enters the kitchen and gets behind Harry to reach for plates in the cupboard on the other side of him.
Niall sets up the table because Harry's taken it upon himself to put the chicken on a platter, rice in a bowl, and salad with tongs to the table rather than them fending for themselves in the kitchen and then eating in the living room when they feel like it. Harry sits at his usual seat, the same one he took the day Niall showed him around the house, and Niall sits in his. It's quiet while they dish up, but then Niall speaks up.
"So, are we going to talk about last night?" he asks.
For a moment, Harry envies how Niall can ask him that without agonizing over it for a few days like he has to, but then he decides that it's not worth it to fuss over. Harry shrugs, thinks of something witty to say, and smiles. "Are we going to talk about this morning?" he shoots back.
Much to his surprise, Niall easily tells him, "you looked soft and I wanted to touch."
It's sweet, Harry thinks. His heart swells up a little while Niall stares at him and he stares back. There's nothing to cover the silence or the space between them but everything feels so comfortable in the moment. Harry smiles just barely and then looks down at his plate with a sigh.
"I didn't think I was gay," Harry says. It's quiet again, but Harry isn't nervous because of it. He feels Niall's eyes on him and he knows that he has his attention. "What I really can't believe is that I've fallen for someone who does this all the time."
Niall's fork hits his plate, and it's not loud really, but it's enough that it makes Harry look up to him. His heart is thumping because there it is, he's spilled his heart out to someone who could never like him back. Niall's not looking at him for a second, but then their eyes meet and Harry feels like he's gotten stabbed through the heart - but, like, in a good way.
"If you're talking about me, you're wrong," he tells Harry in a soft, gentle, but firm tone. "I don't fuck with people."
"Then why are you fucking with me? Why did you fuck with your last flat mate?" Harry asks him. He can't help how quickly and how rushed it leaves his mouth, but he's desperate for answers. Niall scoffs at him.
"My old roommate was my ex, Harry," he says. Harry's gut twists. Oh.
"We just, we didn't work out. Liam was my first boyfriend, but he moved out because I was like you; I didn't know who I was yet, I guess. I didn't know what I wanted and I gave him whiplash, is what he told me. He drove me mad sometimes. I hate his fuckin' guts but I loved him more than anyone else in the world." Niall's jaw sets. He stares at Harry with these eyes, so piercing and blue and cold. Harry's scared that he's really hit a nerve, that he's not going to be able to get forgiveness from Niall or something and he's going to have to move out. Most of all, he fears where this is going. If Niall's going to reject him and then Harry will be alone with his broken heart and upside down world.
Harry looks down at his plate after a second. Niall's stare is so harsh that he wants to cry again, and Jesus, he's never cried this much before but this rejected feeling hits him deep. It's worse than any girl has been with him and worse than being rejected from his dream university. This, this is deep. Niall breathes a sigh, sounds like he was just panting. Harry feels a hand gently take his.
"I'm not like that any more, though. I know what I want and I know who I am. I'm, like, five years older than you and I'm probably the biggest prick you've met so far, but I know that I'd like to try again, with you, I mean. I want to try," he says softly.
Harry swallows. Now he feels like Niall has given him whiplash and, really, he wants a straight answer. "You're not just getting my hopes up, right?" he asks.
Niall shakes his head, laughs as he says, "no, I'm not. And I promise this time that I won't take it too far. It was unfair of me."
Harry shrugs, leans on his elbow over the table while he squeezes Niall's hand. "It's alright," he tells him, "maybe later you can try a few more kinks on me."
Niall laughs and can't help himself when he leans over and kisses Harry fondly.
//
It's the fifth or sixth date, Harry can't remember, but they're sitting in the back of the movie theater and Harry's got his hand down Niall's pants. There aren't a lot of people around in the theater, maybe six or seven couples, but none are sitting in the back row. Niall's rocking his hips into Harry's hand, but Harry just drags it slowly every time he does.
"Don't be such a tease," Niall mutters under his breath, and Harry tries his best not to smirk.
"But you know I love it, daddy dearest," Harry whispers in Niall's ear, takes the lobe of Niall's ear in his teeth and tugs.
Niall sends a glare over his shoulder and seethes, "when we get home, I'm bending you over the counter. You know better."
There's a hiss of another couple shushing them but luckily no one has noticed what they're doing. Harry pouts, puckers his lips for a kiss from Niall, but Niall just shakes his head at him and nods down to the tent in his pants. With a huffy sigh, Harry untucks Niall's hard cock from his jeans and leans down to kiss its tip. He gets precum on his lips in the process and pecks Niall's lips after because he knows Niall hates it. As predicted, Harry gets a grunt of disapproval and then he's grabbed by the hair and his head is forced down again.
"You're no fun," Harry whines at him in a whisper, but Niall only pets his curls back to speed him along.
Harry's gotten good, he'd say. He loves the fit of Niall's cock in his mouth, loves the taste of his cum on his tongue and down his throat. He's learned to take his time collecting little droplets of precum on his tongue, uses it to lick around his head so Harry can taste it later as he goes down. His hand holds Niall's shaft while he wraps his lips around the head of Niall's angry, red cock and suckles on it for a few teasing moments. Niall rests his head back, lets out a long breath, and Harry knows he loves it.
Harry sinks down onto the rest of Niall's length, takes him until he hits the back of his throat and hollows his cheeks. He's in the process of bobbing his head back up when Niall shoves him down with a force that's got Harry falling off his chair. Harry keens, pops off Niall's cock, but his head is shoved back down.
"Hey!" Harry hisses when Niall finally lets go of his hair, but as he looks around, he can see a faint orange glow of the light from a movie attendant waiting to be called on for food. If they'd gotten caught, well. That would not have been good.
It doesn't stop Harry from finishing, though. There's not a lot of leg room but Harry squeezes in between Niall's open legs and wraps his lips back around his cock, cupping his balls as he does so. Harry takes Niall shallow, bobs his head for a while before he takes him deep and relaxes his throat with his amateur skill enough to slide Niall back and forth. Niall doesn't last long when they're in public; within a few minutes, he's coming down Harry's throat.
Harry pulls up and swallows, wipes his mouth and face to make sure there's nothing he's missing. He sits back down and Niall pets his hair down into its original long, messy style. Humming, Niall kisses Harry, thanking him against his lips. By the time they leave the theater, Harry's knees are dusty and sticky, and Niall's fly is unzipped.
//
"This is Niall," Harry introduces to his group of friends one night for game night, a month or so later.
Louis' brought beer, Nick has ordered four large pizzas, and Zayn's packed his pipe in his bag. It's going to be a fun night, Harry hopes, and his friends are going to finally meet Niall - well, and see the place. They've started to think that Niall's just some made up flat mate and Harry still lives with his mother (aside from Nick, who's met Niall a few times before on double dates). It's cramped in the entrance above the stairs where they're all standing, but so far they don't mind.
Nick has already made himself at home, patted Niall's shoulder and said his hellos. Harry's hand is on Niall's other shoulder. Before his friends all got here, he'd joked that Niall might not understand all the young people talk but Niall shut him up - gently, of course. Or not so gently, and on the twelfth step of the stairs against the railing.
"You're Harry's flat mate, then?" Louis asks as he reaches to shake Niall's hand.
Niall nods, shaking Louis' hand back. "Nah, boyfriend, actually," he corrects. Harry's ready for this. Ready to come out to his best friends.
It takes them a minute, but Nick gets the ball rolling. He claps his hands once, and gestures over to the couch. "Great," he says, "does that mean I can invite mine over, too?"
They've planned it ahead of time, Harry and Nick have, that they're going to come out together, and they've planned from the best to the worst but this isn't really something they expect. Louis and Zayn look shocked for a good while, like they're not sure what to say, and finally Louis shrugs and Zayn says a goodhearted, "sick," while Louis tells them, "the more the merrier." They push through and Louis plops down on the couch, Zayn on the armchair. Nick, Niall, and Harry glance at each other, and they share the same shrugging expression as they follow suit. Nick takes a seat next to Zayn and Niall's turning on the xbox when the doorbell rings.
"Food's here," Harry calls, and the boys hoot for it.
Harry grins. He's gay, his friends are cool with it. He has great sex with a man he can easily say he's in love with. Yeah, maybe moving in with Niall wasn't the worst thing to ever happen after all.