I'm Not Gay

1

Normally, Harry styles wasn’t one to blame a hot girl for trying something new in bed—hey, he was an open-minded twenty-four-year-old guy with a healthy sex drive—but he didn’t think it was totally unreasonable to ask for some warning before the girl he was hooking up with shoved a finger up his ass.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” he said with a chuckle, looking down at the naked blonde between his thighs. The view was fantastic, the curve of her
waist and ass making him twitch in her mouth, but the wet finger in Harry’s ass was weirding him out too much to fully appreciate the view.

Erica stopped sucking his cock long enough to grin and say, “Relax. Maybe you’ll like it. My ex liked having a finger up his ass during a blowjob. Said it felt more intense.”

Harry shook his head with a laugh. “I’m not into that kind of thing, babe—”

She crooked her finger and Harry saw stars, his body convulsing as he let out what was probably a mix of a scream and a moan. He came, and it felt like he kept coming and coming, his body trembling with pleasure.

When harry was finally able to focus his gaze again, he found Erica staring at him with a stunned look on her face.

“Wow,” she said faintly before smirking. “Not into it, huh?”

Harry flushed, feeling uneasy, embarrassed, and a little freaked out, so he quickly rolled them over and went down on her until she forgot even her own name, much less…that incident

Afterward, as he put her in a cab and took a long shower, harry tried not to think about what had happened. It wasn’t a big deal.

It wasn’t.
 
* * *
 

“Out with it.”

“What?” Harry said into his beer.

“You’ve got something on your mind,” zayn said. “Spill.”

Harry put his beer down and looked at his best friend across the table before flicking his gaze around the pub. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”

Silence.

Sighing, Harry returned his gaze to zayn, who just raised his eyebrows expectantly. Sometimes Harry hated how well zayn knew him. Like, they were bros and all, but it fucking sucked to be such an open book to zayn. It had always annoyed Harry back when they were in high school together— Zayn had never bought his bullshit when Harry boasted about his conquests. Zayn had always just humored him with that annoyingly amused look in his eyes whenever Harry…exaggerated things a little.

It was annoying that he still couldn’t lie to zayn for shit, even after all these years. It wasn’t like they lived in each other’s pockets nowadays. They didn’t go to the same school anymore: zayn was in law school while harry hadn’t bothered with uni after sixth form, choosing to work at his family’s pub instead. They had different friends these days, different interests and everything.

But fuck it. Zayn Malik was still his best friend. They were bros for life; harry knew that. They hadn’t lost contact even in the year harry had lived with his grandparents in L.A.

When he’d returned to London, their friendship was as solid as ever. Harry had been the first person zayn had come out to, the person zayn had trusted the most. Like, they didn’t really talk about feelings—they weren’t little girls—but they both knew they had each other’s back, no matter what. Which was why harry was considering sharing his…problem with zayn.

Licking his lips, Harry stared at his best friend uncertainly. Zayn stared back, his hazel eyes expectant.

“Remember the blonde I hooked up with a few days ago?” harry said.