It was 8:49am when I woke up the next morning, and as soon as I opened my eyes I soon remembered the encounter Harry's dick had with my leg and crotch last night.
I didn't know whether I wanted to laugh or become extremely turned on by it. But the one thing I knew was, Harry wasn't lying when he told me he doesn't masturbate.
I knew I wasn't dreaming of last night when I saw Harry peacefully sleeping in his jeans. He must've changed into them after he practically ran to the bathroom last night after waking up. What a night that was, it was definitely a night that I would never forget.
I slowly walked my index and middle finger over to the side of his toned stomach and then to his abs. He didn't seem to flinch or move at all at my touch, which encouraged me to go further. But as soon as my fingers trailed over his V line he soon let out a groan before stretching his whole body. I mentally rolled my eyes at him, I couldn't do anything to him without him knowing.
"Hi." He peeked an eye open, smiling at me before he rolled himself over so he was facing me more. I sat up lightly and softly rubbed my eyes before smiling back at him.
"Good morning." I whispered to him. Watching him lazily smile at me as he woke up was one of the best things ever. He quickly groaned to himself before getting up and sitting on the edge of the bed which was next to me.
"Oh- why are you wearing your jeans, Harry?" I asked innocently, and the colour in his face instantly vanished. His smile faded and his eyes widened. He definitely knew what I was thinking, but he was definitely trying to hide it.
"I f-feel asleep in them." He whispered in embarrassment before looking at the floor instantly. I felt so sad for him right now, I could tell how shy and nervous he was.
"Are you sure?" I asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow at him as he shyly nodded in response.
"Yes. I wore them all night."
"That's strange," I said in pure sarcasm as I looked at him in utter confusion. "I couldn't remember the feeling of demin humping my leg last night."
I've never seen someone's smile turn so quick until now. His mouth parted in shock, he looked absolutely mortified at himself. "Jamie, I'm so sorry. I didn't know that would happen-"
"Harry, it's okay," I laughed at him, and he put his head in his hands in embarrassment before whining to himself. "It's normal."
"Yeah, for a twelve year old." He retorted, shaking his head at me, as if he was done with everything and he just gave up on life like that. It was adorable yet gross at the same time, watching Harry act so embarrassed from having a wet dream.
"Where are your boxers?" I giggled to him as he tried to hold back his nervous smile. I loved the way he acted when he was nervous, it was the sweetest thing in the world.
"I, um- I threw them away. They're in your bin." He replied with a look in disgust on his face as he obviously expected me to laugh at him, and I couldn't help but do so.
"Harry, there's nothing to be embarrassed about," I pouted my lips at him, making his face fade from a scowl into just a simple frown. "If it makes you feel better, my younger brother came running into my room with an erection when I was thirteen, he was crying his eyes out."
Harry let out a light laugh at my words, and after a few seconds he hesitated. But instead of saying anything, he started to laugh even louder. And it was honestly the first time I've ever seen him laugh like this.
He was literally dying on my bed, clutching his stomach as he let out howls of laughter. He couldn't control himself, and it made me laugh too. I loved seeing him laugh, because he didn't do it very often.
"It's not that funny." I tried to stop my giggles as Harry rolled himself back into the bed, not being able to breathe properly from a stupid story that happened nine years ago.
The more he laughed, the more I did too. And eventually, we both ended up crying so much our stomachs were hurting. "Ha-Harry, I c-can't breathe!"
"I've never l-laughed so much." He finally started to calm himself down as he sat up on the bed again, breathing intensely before he stopped completely. But he still had his smile. "I didn't know you had a brother."
"His name's Youssef. He's turning eighteen soon." I said with a simple smile, thinking about my brother.
"That's a funny name." He observed, and I was a little surprised at Harry's words, he wasn't one to judge.
"My mum named him, and my dad named me something normal." I smirked at him. My dad was English, and my mum was Arabic. So me and my brother were rather pale compared to my mum because of my dad's side.
"I want to change my name to something cool." He breathed, showing his toothy grin at me as he leant forward slightly, tensing his chest and abs for me to see.
"You're so hot." I panted as I saw his smile, and he looked at me confusingly before tilting his head to the side lightly, a pout on hs lips.
"That's ironic," He muttered. "It's Winter."
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at his replies half the times. He was so old fashioned about most things, he never gave me a normal answer to anything.
"I meant, I think you look very nice." I said innocently as he bit his lip to hold back his grin. I wanted to wipe it right off him with a huge kiss, but something was stopping me. It was because Harry's never been kissed before.
"Well, you look lovely." He said, his grin increasing as he showed his teeth. I couldn't help but go shy at his compliment. So instead of saying anything I raised my hand up to rest against the side of his face again. For some reason he liked it when I did this. And I liked touching his face, anyways.
"I wish you could stay here all day." I pouted to him, and surprisingly I saw a frown appear on his lips.
"I thought I was." He whispered, looking down at the bed as my hand left his face. I felt so bad all of a sudden, knowing that Harry wanted to spend the day with me. But it was about time Harry left, Louis could be coming home any minute,
"Louis wouldn't like it if he saw you here," I said unenthusiastically before rolling my eyes. "You should call me when you get back home. Or I can give you a ride-"
"You want me to leave now?" He asked innocently with a confused pout, and I sighed to myself before nodding.
"He should be home by now." I gave him the puppy dog eyes so he wouldn't get upset over the fact that I was practically telling him to leave.
"I guess I'll see you tomorrow." He said sadly. "I had a really good time spending time with you."
"You should come over saturday. Louis will be out all night." I smirked at him, and instead of smirking back he gave me a simple, grateful smile.
"That would be really nice," he smiled innocently, before quickly widening his eyes and biting his lip. "I promise I won't have a wet dream again-"
"Okay." I shut him up before patting his leg comfortably. It wasn't long before he soon got up from the bed and quickly threw his shirt over his head. He put his shoes on in a hurry and suddenly stood at the door.
"Don't you want me to give you a ride home?" I asked him kindly, but he shook his head.
"I prefer walking," he answered. "Thanks anyways."
And after that, he left. And I suddenly felt upset that I was on my own again. I didn't realise how much of an impact Harry's presence had on me. Him just being here made me feel a hundred times better about everything.
I guess I got over him leaving as I walked to the bathroom, and brushed my teeth and washed myself clean. I dragged a brush through my mess of dark brown hair, after a few minutes I successfully untangled the mop on my head which soon turned into straight waves.
I tiredly made my way out of the bathroom and into the livingroom, wanting to make myself a cup of coffee before I got into work today. I was surprised when I saw Louis walk suddenly into the room with his rather messy hair and worn out clothes. Thank God Harry left a few minutes before, or he would've been pissed at me.
"I'm so hungover, I want to die." He groaned as he walked over to me tiredly, wrapping his arms around my body and giving me a welcome hug. My stomach turned sick at the smell of cheap vodka and cigarettes.
"Someone's had a rough night." I smirked at him as he pulled away from me, stumbling towards the fridge as he seeked something to eat or drink.
"Who drank the fucking milk?" He swore, which was rather unnecessary as he grabbed an empty carton and trudged towards the bin. "I'm sick of you drinking it all-"
He looked into bin in confusion, inspecting what was inside the metal can with a scowl. And right now, I was as confused as he was.
"Who threw a pair of boxers in the bin?" He asked annoyingly.
Shit, fuck, shit, holy shit. No this wasn't happening.
I could've died when he put his hand in the can, and he pulled out the black boxers himself with frowned eyebrows. He soon felt them around a little, and I've never seen someone's facial expression change so dramatically.
"Why the fuck are they so sticky?"
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