A/N: another long one, but the Medicine origin story is here...enjoy <3
December 2014
I don't know what the hell my problem was, but I could barely stomach the parting words my algebra teacher had for us before we left for the term. My leg was bouncing under the desk and I wasn't absorbing any information anymore; I had no more space in my brain. The one and only thought floating around in there was simply, shut the fuck up already.
I suppose that's what happens when you spend four months crying and studying, and studying and crying. As embarrassing as it was to admit, I even picked up stress-smoking cigarettes. Cigarettes. Hazel started it, and while it was painful and disgusting at first, I didn't hate the nicotine buzz. I didn't smoke them all the time, but before and after an exam I would, and during a study break. So...more than I should.
"Anyway," the professor sighed heavily, "please do take care of yourselves and have a wonderful holiday."
To that, I rolled my eyes and scooped my leather tote bag up from the floor. I was the first one to arrive when the class began, and I was the first one to leave while my fellow students embraced each other. There was no one I cared to say goodbye to, no one I'd be sad to never see again.
At the end of the wide, overflowing hallway, I made out Hazel's signature, icy blonde half-top-knot bun. My shoulders dropped in pure relief as our eyes met. She laughed when she could see the exhaustion written all over my face, opening her arms for me as a mother would.
"Happy end of the term," she cooed, hugging my neck.
"I wanna fucking die," I groaned as we pushed our way out through the double doors, and into the freezing cold. "I never wanna do another math formula again, I never wanna write another thesis, I never wanna open a textbook. I just, want, to be dead."
"Well, let's not do that," Hazel chuckled as we linked our arms together to stay warm. The heels on our tall boots clicked simultaneously over the brown cobblestone, and we could see our breath puffing out in little white clouds with every exhale.
Campus was beautifully dead by this time of the year. The trees were barren of their leaves and a sickly grey color, the grass was an anemic shade of olive green, and everyone was bundled up to their chins in grey, beige, and black winter coats. Every single day was so picture-perfect, quite literally the only saving grace to the bleak curriculum that tried to kill us all.
"You know what I wanna do, actually?" I said, turning to see Hazel's cheeks flushed a rosy pink. "I wanna get drunk. No, I wanna get wasted."
"Oh God," Hazel dropped her head back to laugh. "You just sounded so American."
"I do!" I giggled in persistence. "I haven't been drunk in I don't even know how long. I haven't had fun in I don't know how long. Yay, I'm a perfect student, but my life is a goddamn bore."
"Okay, then let's do it," she chuckled. "Let's get everyone together and go out."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm," she squeezed my arm tighter into my side. "I'll dust off the old group chat."
That was the plan we made before parting ways in the student lot. Hazel and Harry did that thing where they blew kisses to each other, but the gesture resulted in a middle finger. I smiled back and forth between them as Harry embraced me while leaning against the trunk of his car.
"Hi," he gave me a cute Eskimo kiss before his lips were slotted between mine for a real one.
"Hi," I wiggled in place with a dramatic shiver. "Let's go, let's go, let's go. Get me the fuck out of here."
He laughed into my cheek before taking me over to the passenger seat to get the door. I shook my head as I watched him walk so unbothered to the driver's side, only wearing his leather jacket and a long sleeve shirt underneath. Meanwhile, I had on a coat over my thick jumper and a beanie to keep my ears warm.
"Well? Last day of school? How are we feeling?"
"Euphoric," I groaned the word out as I slumped in the leather seat. "No more school until mid-January. It's a Christmas miracle."
His chuckle was sympathetic as he took my hand to hold in his lap. "You worked really hard this term. I'm proud of you."
"Thank you," I sighed. "What about you? How was your day?"
"My day was great," he offered a half smile out to the windshield. "Finished a song. I mean, the whole song. Done. Complete. Recorded. Almost got two in, but the other needed more work."
"Wait, what?" I scrambled to sit forward suddenly. "You recorded a song? A real song?"
Harry spared me a glance to laugh at my expression. "As opposed to a fake one?"
"I wanna hear it! Play it!"
As soon as he tilted his head, I knew he was about to decline. "I don't wanna show you until the whole album is done, Stella. I want you to hear it from front to back the way that it's supposed to be made. It's important to me that it happens that way."
Like a little kid, I rolled my eyes and relaxed back against the seat. Who knew he was such a perfectionist? "Can I at least get the name title, then?"
"It's, uh...it's called 'Carolina'."
"As in..."
"Mhm," he refused to look at me when he smirked, so I smiled freely to myself. I guess he changed the title to that from "North Carolina", which honestly had a much better and simpler ring to it than his original idea. I just hoped to god he didn't change any of the lyrics.
"Cool," I shrugged all casually, like I didn't actually care that much. Harry saw right through that and pinched my thigh for it as he parked out front of our flat. "Oh hey, we're going out to get wasted tonight."
"Oh, are we?" His expression read unimpressed, leading the way up the path to unlock the front door for us.
"Yes, we are," I locked us in and started to peel off my layers. "I've earned it after the last four months of revising or studying or en train d'étudier, or however the fuck you wanna say it. I just wanna go out and get drunk with my friends, eat really shitty greasy bar food, and listen to good music."
Right there in the entryway, Harry held my face and said, "Let's hear more French from you. That was sexy."
"Harry," I whined with my hands on his chest. "Are you listening to me?"
He whined right back. "I am, but I really don't wanna go out, Stella. It's my job to go out. I thought we could stay home and watch one of those awful Christmas rom-coms you like so much."
"First of all, you like them too so don't pretend like I have a gun to your head when we watch them," I started toward the stairs, and he followed. "Second, please? I really just need this and I don't wanna go without you. We could go to The Basement! They have terrible food and great music, cheap alcohol, everything we need."
"Okay, so not only do you wanna make me go out, but you wanna make me go out to my place of work?" He grunted as he fell back on the bed, watching me head into our closet.
"Short answer? Yes. Won't Mitch be there? You love Mitch! You're obsessed with Mitch."
"I'm obsessed with you. Mitch is just, like...the male equivalent of you in terms of me not minding spending time with him."
"Oh, I know you don't mind spending time with him," I sorted through all my hanging dresses to see which one I'd like to wear. "I feel like we're in a threesome relationship half the time."
"Alright, well I really don't wanna go, Stella," he concluded. "Just make it a girls' night."
I was smiling at the dress I landed on until his words sank into my brain. The smile vanished as I stomped into the room and tossed the hanger on the bed. "Don't be selfish, Harry."
"I'm not being selfish."
"Yes, you are!" I crawled onto the bed to straddle his waist while he stayed laying down comfortably. "You're being a selfish baby."
"Oh, now I'm a baby?" He gave me a squinty laugh.
I smiled through my pout as I splayed my hands out over his ribs. "Please, H? Just for me?"
His smirk never faded, but I could tell he was entirely fed up with me trying to get my way like that all the time. He was fed up because it always worked. "I don't wanna be out crazy late. I wanna get a good sleep with you, and I wanna be home when it's the coldest out."
"Okay, Grandpa. We can make it happen," I beamed and leaned over to kiss his parted lips, scrambling off of him to get dressed.
Happily, he tucked his arms behind his head to just watch me. It was warm enough in our room that I was unbothered to shed my warm clothes and strip down to my bra and underwear. I made brief eye contact with him as I threw my silky espresso-colored slip dress on, letting it fall to my mid-thigh. I thought it went well with the tall black faux croc print boots I had on before, and I opted for one of Harry's black jumpers to throw over the top. Now it almost looked like I was wearing a skirt with a sweater, and I liked the layered effect.
"What happened to my little Gucci sneaker, Duke t-shirt, and tiny denim shorts girlfriend?" Harry said. "You look like a supermodel."
My smile softened up as I adjusted my heart necklace to show over the jumper. "Are you complaining?"
"Absolutely not," he reached out for me until I laid on top of him, keeping the bottom of my shoes off the bed. "You're crazy pretty, y'know that?"
"I do actually," I spoke quietly over his jaw. "My boyfriend tells me all the time."
"That's good," he mumbled vaguely as he turned his head to catch my lips. By that one kiss alone, I knew he thought he was about to successfully seduce me into staying home. I didn't give him the chance.
"Come on," my voice was strained as I started pushing off of him again. "Put your shoes on, let's go–oh, and we're taking an Uber. I don't want you driving drunk, and you're getting drunk with me, so...yup. Let's go."
"You know what's funny?" He sighed as he regrettably stood from the bed. "Zayn told me once that I was whipped. Isn't that hilarious?"
"Definitely," I winked at him before clomping down the stairs in my heels.
Everyone in the group chat said they'd be heading downtown within the next hour, and I went ahead and hailed an Uber so Harry and I could get going already. I was mostly looking forward to the fried chicken tenders and French fries they had, even if they were just doused in grease and salt. I felt like I hadn't enjoyed a meal since Thanksgiving, and after all that work I don't even know how much I actually enjoyed it anyway. Calorie-exploding pub food was exactly what I wanted as my first meal with my life back.
The back of the Uber was so warm, but I still cozied up next to Harry with our fingers intertwined in my lap. We made quiet small talk about how we still needed to go Christmas shopping for his family before we needed to head down to Holmes Chapel next week. I asked him if we could drive his car rather than take the train again, but neither of us was self-assured that the poor thing would make it all the way there and back.
Rather than parking, the Uber driver dropped us off right in front of The Basement. It was such a subtle hole-in-the-wall kind of place that you would absolutely miss it if you didn't know what you were looking for. There was a small awning with the name of the venue and a set of stairs going downward, but half the letters were scratched off and the black brick blended right into the alleyway on either side.
I was grateful to be out of the cold as I stepped inside first, inhaling the scent of wine and tea-light candles burning from the classier, slightly more upscale bar on the main floor. That section was where you went to go on a first date and have aesthetically pleasing cocktails. The downstairs was for hard liquor and getting away with promiscuous activity in the dark.
At 6:45, the place wasn't booming, by any means. There were a decent amount of people down there, but not enough to feel claustrophobic just yet. Harry and I were able to push together a couple of vacant tables to make room for everyone, and I waited there patiently while he put in my food order at the bar with Mila. It was a short interaction between the two of them.
Harry was still at the bar waiting and speaking to Mitch when Alice and Niall walked down the stairs first, followed by the rest of our group. I waved to them from the tables in the corner, standing to hug them one by one. They all knew to leave the chair next to me open for Harry but otherwise filled the spots around me.
"So I heard we're getting wasted," Zayn mimicked my accent, which sounded more like a girl from The Valley in Los Angeles.
"We are, so you'd better be ready to go shot for shot, Malik."
He nodded like he was pleasantly impressed, and of course, Niall was down for anything. He took Alice's drink order and asked if she was hungry before taking off to get us shots, a vodka cranberry for his girlfriend, and two baskets of "chips". Harry squeezed his shoulder in passing as he returned with my food.
I shared the chicken and fries with him while we all caught up after not seeing each other for at least two or three weeks by that point. Hazel decided she wanted the same basket meal, so Zayn had to go order her one as Niall returned with our platter of whiskey, gin shots, and fries. After the first shot, I was already grinning from ear to ear and I had every reason to. All my stress, I left it at the university earlier.
As another hour passed, I was two shots and half a whiskey-coke deep. Harry, I think, was happy that he came out now that he was laughing with his eyes closed and his head tipped back at a story Louis was telling him. The floor was more crowded by then, but the noise flooded in gradually and I think our group was a huge contributor to it.
"I think I want another," I hiccuped to Harry as I scooted back in my chair. As a result of my standing, he let his arm fall from my shoulder to hold the back of my thigh just barely under the hem of my dress. "Do you want one?"
"Mhm," his jaw flexed and his cheekbones hollowed out as he pursed his lips for a kiss first. I gave him one and let my hand graze his sternum as I started toward the bar.
Mitch and the other bartender were busy, which left me with Mila. If looks could kill, I'd already be dead by the time we walked down here. She looked at me and said, "Yeah?"
"Two whiskey cokes on Harry's tab. Please."
No response. She blinked at me as an answer and turned to messily make both drinks. Rather than handing them to me, she placed them hard on the bar top until they both spilled just a bit. "Can you move? Gotta get the next in line."
"Sure," I shot her a charming smirk of my own, not feeling the need to sink down to her level. I already won. "Thanks."
"Next!"
Unbothered, I returned to the table with our two drinks. Harry was giving me the kind of smile that told me he witnessed the whole thing like he was trying to hold in a laugh. I just shrugged as I handed him his drink and settled right in by his side, catching Mila's gaze as I sipped and felt his arm around my shoulders again. Maybe smirking at her from across the room was going too far, or maybe this was the karma she deserved for trying to seduce a girl's boyfriend when he was physically and emotionally vulnerable.
Either way, I was officially too drunk to give a fuck.
"Hey, I have an idea," Hazel perked up, earning everyone's attention.
We watched her pull out a plastic bag with four little round green pills inside of it. They looked like Tylenol, and I asked if that's what it was as I chewed on the thin black straw in my drink. Hazel laughed as she popped one in her mouth and said no, that it was "molly".
"What's molly?" I asked.
"Ecstasy," she mumbled with the pill on her tongue.
"Ecsta–"
Harry laughed and cupped his palm over my mouth as everyone shushed me through their own laughter. I guess I did say it pretty loud, and I guess it was completely illegal. Even under his hand, my jaw dropped as I lowered my voice to speak again.
"You just took it!" I whisper-yelled.
"Do you want to?" Hazel wiggled her brows enticingly as she swallowed.
"Fuck that, mate," Louis laughed. "Someone's gonna have to take care of you idiots if you do."
"I don't..." I looked at Harry as he waited for me to answer. No one else seemed interested except for Zayn. "Do you want to?"
With the permanent drunk smirk Harry's been wearing all night, he shrugged one shoulder. "If you want to."
"No, I only want to if you want to," I insisted.
"And I only want to if you want to."
"Oh for fucks sake, just take the pills or go make out already," Liam groaned.
As a seemingly impulsive move, Harry reached into the bag and popped one in his mouth like it was a fucking Tic Tac. I squealed his name with my hand over my lips this time, and he barely swallowed before he started to crack up. I gasped so loud I almost choked.
"Here, take it with me," he picked the third pill out and pinched it between his thumb and index finger. I nearly went cross-eyed staring at it when he raised it to my mouth.
"Are you sure?"
"Might as well," he said. "Wanted to get wasted, right?"
I fought a smile, still unsure. But at the same time, if he was high...I wanted to be high too. I wanted to do everything he did and be everywhere he was, even if that place was in another universe while we were tripping out.
"Open," he said, and I stuck my tongue out for him to place the pill on, letting his fingertips graze over the tip before I closed my mouth. "Swallow."
My pulse was racing as I obeyed, suddenly very aware of how sexual the two words he just said actually sounded. I think he knew it too, judging by the darker smirk on his lips as he focused directly on my mouth.
"What's...what's supposed to happen now?" I asked, feeling my anxiety levels rising and falling as I looked up at Harry for an answer.
He lifted my chin with the side of his index finger to kiss me. "Now we just wait."
At first, I had a million questions and I wanted to know the answers before I was incoherent. I asked Hazel who gave it to her and how she knew it was safe, and she said she bought it from a drug dealer in one of her classes who apparently sells to just about everyone in her fashion program. Then I asked what I was supposed to expect to feel, and Zayn said, "Energy, happiness, horny". I suppose I should have asked those questions before taking it.
"Oh my God, what are we gonna do?" I sputtered out a laugh to Harry. "How are we gonna get home? Thank God you didn't drive your car."
"Well, obviously I wouldn't drive my car while high on ecstasy, Stella," he laughed back at me as he sipped from his whiskey straight from the lip of the plastic cup.
"Wait, I think I'm hungry again," I looked into my empty chicken and fries basket. "Should I eat more? Should I eat again?"
"Stella, calm down," Hazel giggled. "You already ate, you're fine."
I nodded like that was true because it was...or at least I hoped it was. "Okay, you're right. I feel fine."
About an hour later, fine wasn't the word. I didn't really feel fine, I felt better than fine. I felt absolutely incredible. It was like being stoned, but rather than just feeling the buzz in the back of my head, I could feel it in my entire body. Every single cell inside of me was affected by it, every single emotion other than anxiety or sadness was present. I wasn't sure if I had ever been happier.
"How're we feeling, James?" Harry asked me.
I cleared my throat dramatically to answer. "I feel good. A really great kind of good. Do you feel good? I just said 'good' a lot didn't I?"
Harry laughed with blown-out pupils. "You did say good a lot. But good, that's good."
"Stop," I kept my smile as I rubbed my eyes. They felt like they were watering.
Hazel said that Harry and I looked so cute together as if she just met us, which sent me into a fit of laughs all over again. She insisted on taking pictures of us, and it seemed like we were doing that for hours. Harry and I smiled for the first couple of them, then he kissed my cheek, then I kissed his cheek, then he kissed my mouth, and the next thing I know our tongues are pressed flat against each other.
"Oh, you two are fucking gross," Niall cackled. "Disgusting."
"Yeah, that's foul," Louis chimed in.
My laugh was muffled as Harry gave me the sloppiest, tongue-filled kiss to date, and I could feel how wet my whole mouth was afterward. "You're all just jealous, it's okay."
I felt Harry's smile growing as I kept my cheek pressed to his with my hand splayed out on the other side of his jaw. He was laughing so much, at every single thing everyone was saying–even Liam, who he normally didn't find to be all that funny. But now his pretty green eyes were watering as he slumped back in his chair because sitting up was taking too much effort.
"Mitch!" I screeched as he walked over with a hesitant kind of smile on his face. It was obvious he knew we were more than drunk, and somewhere in the back of my mind, my brain was begging me not to embarrass myself.
"Hey, guys," he chuckled and leaned over to hug Harry when he sat up and lifted his arms for an embrace. "How's it going over here?"
"Oh, we're on drugs," I coughed into my fist.
"Stella," Harry gasped and covered my mouth with his hand too late. "You're not supposed to say it."
"Why not? He's not the police." I was being serious, but everybody laughed anyway, including Mitch. "Hey, I do have a question though."
"What's that?" Mitch asked with his hands on the back of Harry's chair.
"How does it feel to be the third in our relationship?"
Mitch laughed with a knowing nod, playing along to humor me. "Feels alright, yeah. Harry's a great boyfriend."
And just like that, Harry reached up again to hold both sides of Mitch's face and brought him in for a kiss. A kiss! A squeaking sound came out of my mouth as my jaw dropped, and both of them were laughing. It's not like I was mad, and Harry had kissed all the boys at the table while drunk at some point or another, but the drugs had me shocked just the same.
"That's cheating!" I squealed.
"You just said he's our third!" Harry barked out a laugh as Mitch dramatically wiped his mouth.
"No, I don't like it anymore," I pouted and hugged his neck defensively from the side.
Mitch laughed and said, "That's alright, you can have him," before he took our empty food baskets away from us.
"You're so jealous," Harry spoke right over my mouth.
"No, you're not supposed to kiss any other boys or girls but me," I smiled as I smoothed my thumb over his bottom lip. "You're supposed to treat me like a perfect gentleman would, and a perfect gentleman would not do that."
"Oh," he nodded with his eyes closed like it all made sense now. "You want me to treat you like a gentleman. Okay. Got it."
"You're literally so high–"
He kissed me before I could get another word out, and I didn't even remotely try and stop him. My brain was spinning as I closed my eyes and spread my fingers out across his jawline, focusing on the feeling of his wet, velvet lips encompassing mine. Something switched inside me, then–some kind of carnal, innate desire to just have him.
I could hear our friends carrying on their conversations and laughing until they couldn't breathe, slapping their hands on the table as the drinks kept flowing. But the noise sounded further and further away until all I could really hear was Harry exhaling between hungry kisses. Suddenly, nothing was all that funny.
"I wanna go home," I slurred the words out in a single breath. "Take me home."
Very seriously, Harry nodded before he closed his mouth and swallowed. As we stood to our feet, everything hit me all at once; the drugs, the alcohol, it all went straight to my brain as the blood started to distribute more evenly throughout my body.
"Where're you two going?" Niall scoffed with his arm around Alice. She was smiling, of course.
"To have sex," Harry answered bluntly, and I loved the way it sounded when he said it out loud to other people.
"Use protection!" Hazel called out with a giggle as Harry dragged me toward the stairs.
He had me go first but stayed so close behind me that we were both practically tripping just trying to get up to the main floor. His hands were glued to my waist, squeezing every other second as we stepped outside into the frozen air. I couldn't tell you what time it was, but London seemed to still be bustling.
Harry hailed a taxi with one of his loud whistles, though he had to try twice to get it right when my lips were attached to his neck like an insatiable magnet. A hundred people probably passed us on the sidewalk and saw, but that really wasn't my concern at the moment.
"Okay, Stella, c'mon," Harry breathed out a little cloud as he opened the cab door. I pushed him to get in first just so I could climb over him in the backseat, having half the nerve to just stay there straddling his lap.
He quickly muttered out our address to the driver, turning his attention to me as I started tugging at the collar of his plain, long sleeve white shirt. I may or may not have definitely moaned once his tongue made contact with mine again, and his hand may or may not have definitely been skimming up the side of my thigh and under my dress.
I pulled back just to watch him smile as I started massaging him over his jeans. He was hard enough for me to feel it through the restrictive denim. I took his hand from my waist to slip under the front of my dress, just conscious enough to make sure the driver wasn't looking. Harry's jaw went slack like mine, and I had to suck on his neck again to keep from calling out.
"Is this good right here?" The man cleared his throat.
I forced my eyes open to see that we were home, but couldn't seem to recall the passing of time since we got in the car. Harry threw him a few crumpled-up bills for the fare before snatching my wrist to bring me onto the street with him.
The second we stepped inside, Harry had me up against the door with his hips digging into mine. He wasn't kissing me anymore, but instead just breathing with me as he let me struggle against the white wood to grind up against him. I lifted my dress to my hips just to rid as many layers as I could, but it wasn't enough.
"Harry," I breathed, my head thumping lightly against the door.
His lips parted as he raised his hand to my mouth, pulling down at my bottom lip with his forefinger. I fully stuck my tongue out until he put it in my mouth, and I moaned as I sucked it with his thigh now stuffed between mine.
"Fuck," he hung his head to watch me rock back and forth over the most muscular part of his upper thigh. My dress was bunched up in his hand so he could see my underwear, and I could feel myself wetting the denim. "Upstairs."
I exhaled a sharp breath as he stepped away to free me from his trap against the door. My boots scraped on the floor as I obeyed to tread up the stairs, holding the railing the entire way. I crawled up the bed in our pitch-black room and laid down flat on my back. Harry kicked his shoes off and went for my boots next, dropping them on the floor with two heavy smacks on the hardwood.
"Open," he said again, just like he did when he put the pill in my mouth, only this time we didn't wait for me to follow suit. Rather, he spread my thighs for me and fell forward to give me a single, sucking kiss. "Keep 'em that way."
When I struggled, he helped me discard his jumper on me, but that was the most energy I could bother to exert when I felt his lips on my neck. They traveled sloppily to my cleavage in my dress, then skipped down to the top of my sternum where the material was all bunched up. Every single kiss felt like little electric shocks, all of which struck me to the core as he quickly peeled my underwear down.
I jolted as he brushed his fingers over my H tattoo, soon replaced by his tongue. He lapped at it before his teeth scraped over it, followed by his smooth lips again. Every time we had sex since I got it, he paid some kind of special attention to the mark even if it was just keeping his thumb directly over it. I was starting to believe it was his favorite feature of mine.
But then I felt his tongue just barely ghost over my center, just teasing me with the tip of it. I was about to complain until he tilted his head and fully leaned in, kissing me the same way he would my mouth. My jaw slackened as I watched his eyes slowly roll back, laving his tongue up and down before he'd close his lips around my clit again.
I gripped his hair to keep it far out of his face, pulling harder, and harder and harder as we both got more carried away. His moans kept vibrating against my clit until I felt like I was using an actual toy on it, and I was at a loss for words. Eventually, all I could do was drop my arms up above my head and let the simultaneous torture and pleasure commence. I was so wet that I could hear it as he lapped at my inner thighs to make sure he wasn't missing a single spot where my arousal might have ended up if not on his tongue.
"I want it like this," he suddenly kneeled up to lay beside me, and my thoughts were delayed to understand what he meant until he had me sit up.
I whimpered pathetically as I moved to straddle his waist, and he started sinking lower underneath me until I was aligned with his mouth again. This was certainly new, and I certainly wasn't about to protest.
Holding my dress up, I hung my head to watch his tongue come out flat as I slowly lowered myself down to meet it. I saw the subtle muscles in my stomach flex as he closed his eyes and furrowed his brows in concentration, eagerly but slowly shaking his head from side to side. Drugs or no drugs, it was like dying and going straight to heaven in the most sinful sense.
Experimentally, I ticked my hips forward the way I would in his lap, and he stopped licking to groan in response. I moaned with him as I discarded my dress to hold his hands on my waist, repeating the motion a few more times. He smiled and mumbled, "It's so fucking good", as he glided his tongue through my folds again and again. The pleasure was completely dizzying, and by that point, I wasn't even sure if the drugs were responsible.
As his fingers dug into my skin, I could feel myself getting closer and trying to still hold back at the same time. I didn't want it to be over, but I was far beyond overstimulated. The man was fucking me with his tongue and moaning as if he were directly experiencing the pleasure himself. He was having the time of his goddamn life while I was calling out in desperation to whoever was listening.
"Cum on my tongue," he breathed, "just like this."
"I can't," I dropped my head back, fighting my climax as I kept my hips moving, "it feels so good, I can't–I don't want to."
When I heard his belt buckle clinking with his rings, I forced my eyes open to look over my shoulder. He had his hand stuffed down his pants, stroking himself while the other kept my hips slowly grinding on his mouth.
"Oh fuck," I gasped, sliding my palm down to graze my middle finger over my clit. Harry's tongue rolled out over it, licking at my fingers while I rubbed circles into the swollen bud. "Harry...fuck," my thighs trembled and twitched as I convulsed over him, laughing through my moans.
"That's it," he sighed, taking the time to moan for himself before he started licking me clean. "Such a good girl."
"Fuck me," I panted in exasperation, still jolting every time his tongue made contact with my clit. "I think I'm so...fucking...high."
Harry breathed with me as I fell back to the bed beside him, and I remembered he was still touching himself. Judging by the speed of his hand, I didn't think he was going to try and wait for me. He was too close, staring at my breasts spilling out of my bra as he used his free hand to try and push his jeans down more. He was so desperate, his cheeks flushed red, his lips pink, swollen, and the lower half of his face glistening because of me.
"Just cum, H," I coaxed him, pressing my body up against his side as I laid my thigh over his and trailed my hand down his shirt. "I promise it's gonna feel so good, baby."
"Oh shit," he closed his eyes as the pet name left my mouth. I didn't call him that as often as he said it to me, so when I did...especially in bed...he lost it.
"You want me to help you?" I asked, already sinking down to do so.
"Yes," his free hand came down to my head as I took him all the way in. "Oh my God, baby, I–don't stop–"
Five seconds. I counted to five in my head before he was cumming in my mouth, bucking his hips upward in erratic little thrusts. I sucked him softly and replaced his hand with mine to pump him the way he wanted, swallowing while leaving him deep toward the back of my throat. It was almost too much to take for both of us, I think.
Once he was spent, I pulled back to breathe and let him bring me back up to where he was laying. As expected, he delved his tongue right into my mouth to taste himself on me–something we both loved doing to each other.
"You know what?" He said.
"Hm?" I closed my eyes with my eyes permanently closed, soon to be on my way out.
"I think I'm gonna write a song about this."