SUMMARY: After a drunken night you end up in a bed with one of your best friends, Harry. A deal is made and feelings shall never be involved. But that's not as easy as you thought...
WORD COUNT: 11.8k
WARNING: sexual content
If your life was some romantic comedy his would be the moment where the camera would zoom on you, your eyes blankly glued to the ceiling, makeup from last night smudged under them as a muscular, inked arm gets thrown across your chest, a snoozing man beside you as you have the internal little monologue.
"You're wondering how I got into this situation, right? Completely naked with one of my best friends after a night spent with heavy drinking and ending up fucking in his apartment until we both fell asleep."
Yeah, this is probably what the voiceover would say as the camera would slowly get farther from you, Harry's sleeping figure coming into the frame while you're still lying like a damn statue. This was not supposed to happen. Not that it was bad, because oh God! Harry really is as good as his ex-girlfriends gushed to you when you met them on night outs. You could never blame the women for falling for him, he has the charm, the personality, the humor and definitely the looks. If you weren't you, you'd be one of those girls who would do anything to get his attention just for a split second. But you're not.
Growing up with a single mother that was repeatedly fucked over by several men, you were taught to be the kind of independent woman who needs no man. Who only uses them for whatever reason and throws them away before they could even realize what's happening. Feelings could never be involved in the equations, those are just not for you.
For a while you thought you weren't even capable of feeling anything at all. But the way you cried when your hamster you got for your sixteenth birthday died changed your mind and you realized that you are just saving yourself the time of allowing people to make you develop feelings for them and then give them the chance to break your heart. You've seen that happen to your mother enough times to know that you don't want to go through that. It's not worth it and why would you risk it all when you could easily get what you need and move on to the next one?
Your friends always joked how you're gonna be the single aunt to their children later who would take them to clubs and honestly? You're just fine with that. Because you always thought that while your married friends will be busy with keeping their marriage together with whatever pathetic man they chose to marry, you'll be living your best life without a worry on the world. That sounds pretty good for you.
There's no need to make it prettier than what it is, you've had a lot of hookups the past years but you always tried to keep yourself in check, have some kind of rules to follow so you don't hurt yourself or anyone else in the process. One of those were that under no circumstances would you ever sleep with a friend. No matter how badly you want to, no matter if they are begging, it can never happen.
But you broke that rule.
Turning your head to the side you look at Harry's sleeping face squished into the pillow and you almost wince, because you know that when he wakes up, this gonna hurt like a bitch. He's gonna freak out, or what's worse, he'll want to take it further, take you out on a date... be in a relationship with you! And you'll have to break his heart because none of those will ever happen.
You and Harry went to high school together and he is one of the very few people you stayed in touch after graduation. Though you grew a little apart when you went to different universities, later on you both somehow ended up in New York and while you're working as a graphic designer at a magazine, Harry is making good money from writing music for other artists. He's been one of your closest friends these past years and while you've always found him attractive, you should have never let this happen, because it will mess everything up and you didn't want to lose such a good friend.
Harry stirs in his sleep next to you, his hand squeezing your side before his eyes blink open, green irises finding your wide eyes. He stops for a moment, looking around, taking in his surroundings before his eyes fall closed again.
"Wow, must have been one wild night?" he mumbles into the pillow before a raspy chuckle falls from his lips.
Last night, the two of you and a couple of your mutual friends celebrated that Harry has gotten his biggest deal so far, having to write an entire album for an up-and-coming artist, so you all got pretty wasted, especially you and him. It's a little blurry how the two of you ended up like this, but you do remember wildly making out hidden somewhere behind the bar before he asked if you wanted to come to his place. You stupid little thing, should have said no...
Groaning, Harry rolls to his back, his arm falling from you as he lies sprawled out next to you.
"The tequila shots. Shouldn't have had them," you rasp out, a smirk tugging on his lips at your words. "So, um... we both can agree this was a one time thing, right?"
Harry peeks at you, pushing himself up a bit so his head rests against the headboard. The sheets slide down a bit lower on his body, revealing his toned chest and his several tattoos. Memories of you kissing them eagerly last night flash into your mind and you can only hope you're not blushing like a school girl.
"What if I don't agree?" Harry cocks an eyebrow and you almost groan. You knew this was going to happen!
"Harry, I'm not going out with you. You know me, I don't do that. It's nice that you think that it could work between us, but I don't do relationships and I'm not changing my rules, not even for you."
Harry starts laughing, as if you just said the best joke of the century, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. You give him a puzzled look as you sit up, holding the sheets to your chest.
"Who talked about dating, Y/N?" he then asks. "You said last night was a one time thing. We fucked last night. What if that wasn't the only time we did that?"
You start to put the pieces together, though you'd definitely be sharper if you already had your first coffee of the day.
"Are you trying to start a... friends with benefits thing with me?"
"I mean, you could call it whatever you want. I personally really enjoyed last night and judging from the way you were screaming my name, you did too." Now you're for sure blushing. "Why not do it again?"
"This is not a movie, H. I don't think it's manageable without ruining our friendship."
"Have you ever tried something like this?" You shake your head no. "Then how could you know?"
"Have you tried it?"
"Never," he chuckles. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong. We are both cool, smart people. I think we can give it a try and whenever someone is feeling like they had enough, we're just gonna stop."
"What if you catch feelings?" you ask, raising eyebrows at him.
"Oh, but what if you fall for me?" he throws the question back with a cocky smirk and you smack his naked chest.
"You know I never do that!"
"I don't think you can just decide that, but alright," he chuckles, holding his hands up in defense. "I promise you I won't catch feelings for you, Y/N. I swear on my..."
"Your mom's and sister's life!" you point at him. It's clear that he thinks it's silly, but you just keep staring at him until he gives in.
"I swear on my mum's and my sister's life that I will not catch feelings for you, Y/N."
"Alright. And we can end it anytime?"
"Whenever you've had enough of me," he smirks back, so pleased with himself that it's clear he doesn't think that could ever happen.
"If you keep that cocky look on your face it's gonna be a very short deal, Styles," you warn him, but he just laughs before he quickly pulls you back down to bed, getting on top of you, his hips sinking between your legs and you gasp when you feel that he is already semi-hard.
"Why don't we get a head start on it then?" he offers, his lips crashing against yours before they travel down your body and soon enough he gives you something that's a thousand times better than a coffee in the morning.
At first you're clearly hesitant about it. Not sure if it was a good idea or you just ruined everything between you and Harry, but soon enough you realize that it wasn't as bad of a decision as you thought it to be.
Harry is the one to call you for the first time, two days after the night you drunkenly hooked up. You're just leaving the office when he hits you up, asking if you have plans for the night or you're free to go over to his place. An hour later you find yourself pressed up against the wall of his apartment's hallway, both of you eager to get each other out of your clothes. Now that it all happens without either of you being drunk, you actually have the chance to think about how good it is with him. He is just the perfect mixture of dominant and soft, knows when to be the boss and when he has to slow down a bit.
He makes you cum three times. Three mind-blowing times, and you also give him two orgasms. You try to make it equal and make it three, but he respectfully says no.
"If you touched my dick again I think I would start crying," he chuckles jokingly, so you don't even think about pushing it.
Instead, the two of you order Chinese, have dinner together, talking like you always used to before the deal and then you go home. There's no awkwardness, no weird situations, not even when you leave. Harry leans closer and for a moment you think he is gonna be corny and kiss you goodbye, but then you feel him smack your ass before pushing you out the door, just like he always did before, joking about how he is gonna charge you rent if you stay any longer.
Nothing has changed, only that you now spend a good chunk of your time together naked, moaning each other's name before you get back to your usual.
So after that you don't shy away from reaching out to Harry as well. It becomes a regular thing, the two of you meeting up about two of three times a week. You fuck, hang out a bit and go your separate ways. Slowly, you start to forget about times when you stayed dressed up for more than ten minutes after meeting Harry.
You keep switching between your and his place, but sometimes meet somewhere in the middle. You've had sex in a restaurant bathroom, in his car in a parking garage and even in his cousin's place in Brooklyn. That was a bit odd but still quite pleasing.
Tonight is going to be the first time you're gonna be out with all your friends and Harry since the deal was made. No one knows about it and you intend to keep it that way.
Once you're done at work you head home, texting Leticia, another friend from high school to meet you at your place to get ready together. She was Harry's friend at first, what's better, she openly hated you at first for some reason.
"You just had a punchable face at fifteen, you can't blame me," she used to tell you. It was actually Harry who made the two of you friends and you've been close ever since.
You get to your apartment almost at the same time. Leticia starts rambling about her asshole of a boss at the law firm where she works at as you open a bottle of wine to start the evening while you roam through your wardrobe for an outfit.
"Is Leo coming? I owe him a few bucks from last time," Leticia wonders, digging into your dresser for a pair of tights she can borrow to pair with her leather skirt.
"I think he is, but he is going to be late. He is coming from Staten Island from his dad's," you muse, checking yourself out in the red dress you just tried on, not quite pleased with the look, so you quickly work down the zipper and look for something else.
"Um, whose is this?"
Turning around you see that Leticia is holding up a shirt Harry left at yours a few days ago. She is clearly confused about the men's clothing between your stuff, because you are not one to steal them from the men you sleep with since you don't really want anything from them to remind you of them.
"Oh, um, that's... That's Harry's. He left it here a few days ago," you shrug, not making a big deal out of it, but Leticia is nosier than that.
"And why is Harry leaving his clothes around your place?"
"Is that a crime?" you snort, trying to play it cool.
"No, but in what kind of situation did this shirt come off of Harry and end up in your dresser?"
You can't think of a good answer that would stop her from interrogating you, and the way you've just gotten silent is telling her more than words could. She drops the shirt, eyes widening at you and it's clear that she put two and two together.
"Oh my God! You're sleeping with Harry!"
"No! I'm... I just—We..."
"You two are totally fucking! What the fuck!" she gasps in complete shock as you pinch the bridge of your nose.
"Let me explain it, alright? W-We hooked up on the night when we went out to celebrate his big album deal."
"When I couldn't go, right?"
"Yeah. So we were both very drunk and it just happened. And I really thought it would ruin everything but we somehow ended up making a deal."
"Jesus, you guys are acting out the Friends With Benefits movie? Who are you, Mila fucking Kunis?"
"It's not like that!" you defend yourself quickly, but then you realize that it's just like that so far. "Well, it kind of is, but the ending won't be like that."
"Do you really think you can just do it with absolutely no strings?" Leticia sighs, her hands coming to her hips as she stares back at you.
"It's been going great, so I really think it's doable. And if any of us decides they had enough, we'll just call it quits."
"Yeah, because it's that easy," she rolls her eyes. "One of you will catch feelings and someone is gonna end up crying, Y/N."
"No, that's not gonna happen," you shake your head stubbornly. "He promised it won't happen."
"Feelings don't give a shit about promises! I hope you really know what you're doing, because I don't want to have to choose between the two of you," she grumbles before throwing Harry's shirt back into the drawer, grabbing the tights she's been looking for.
Leticia doesn't hold a grudge for the news she just found out, but she surely has gotten you thinking. Is it really gonna end bad? Why can't there be a scenario where it goes perfectly fine and no one gets hurt? Harry promised it's gonna be alright and he has been proven right so far, so why are you having second guesses now?
Arriving at the bar the majority of your friend group is already there, including Harry. You sit across him in the small booth, just exchanging a quick smile before the first round arrives and the evening starts. You allow yourself to take a better look at him while he listens to Mitch's story and you can't say that you don't find him hot. He is wearing a vintage, floral printed shirt, the first few buttons left undone, so you have a nice view of his chest and his necklace you've felt under your lips so many times before when you were kissing down his body. He keeps twisting and playing with his several rings and it makes you stare at his hands for a tad bit longer than you intended to. God, he looks so damn good, you really just want to fuck him here and now.
You keep changing who goes up to the bar to order and the third round is yours, so sliding out of the booth you go to the bar and wait for your turn. A young, handsome guy is making the drinks and you clearly catch his eyes.
"And what can I get for you, beautiful?" he smirks at you when it's finally your turn.
"Two vodka sodas, a martini and three vodka cranberries," you smile back at him with a hint of flirting in your tone.
It's kind of second nature to you, a few charming smiles and winks have gotten a lot of free things for you in your life and you never miss a chance to use your advances.
"All that for one pretty girl?" he teases you.
"I would be all over the floor if I drank all of it," you chuckle, pulling your card out of your wallet, tapping it on the terminal as he finishes up the drinks, kindly putting them on a tray so you can easily bring them over to the booth.
"Don't worry, I would surely pick you up then," he winks at you, placing the last drink to the tray before you thank him and head back.
As you take your previous seat you notice that Harry is watching you intently.
"What?" you mouth him over the conversation at the table.
"Nothing," he shakes his head, turning his gaze away, grabbing his drink and focusing back on everyone else.
You go up to the bar two more times, once to ask for some chips and once for some napkins after a drink has gotten spilt onto the table. Every time you exchange a few words with the bartender and you have to admit, he has a great sense of humor paired with his looks.
Sometime later in the evening you decide to switch to water, so you go up to the bar a fourth time, the bartender coming to you right away at this point. As you wait for him to grab you your drink you feel a hand on your lower back. Turning to the side you see Harry standing next to you.
"Hey, want to come to my place after this?" he asks, leaning closer to your ear. His hot breath hits your exposed skin on your neck and a shudder runs down your spine, especially with his hand still on the small of your back.
"You want a rerun of your first time?" you smirk back at him, referring to the drinks you both have had, though it's definitely not as wild as that night was.
"No, but this dress is making it hard not to want to rip it off," he bluntly tells you as you glance down at yourself. At last you decided to wear a black bodycon dress that surely shows every dip and curve of your body and apparently Harry has been enjoying the show.
The bartender arrives with your water, his eyes falling on Harry and you see that he is a little taken aback by his presence.
"Hey man, can you get me another one as well? I'll pay for both," Harry nods at him and there's something foreign in his tone that you can't really put your finger on. The bartender just nods back and goes to grab another water.
"What if I wasn't in the mood?" you tease him, continuing the discussion where you left it a moment ago.
"Oh, please!" he chuckles smugly. "I saw you eyeing me from across the table, Y/N. I know you are definitely in the mood."
He is right. So damn right. You've been crossing your legs under the table for a while now, feeling your arousal growing every time you saw him run his tongue over his lips or whenever his finger played with the lip of his glass, imagining him doing the same with your body.
Biting into your bottom lip you need to take a deep breath, but when Harry sees your teeth digging into your lip, he loses his patience.
"Or we can just do it now," he growls lowly, grabbing your hand before he starts pulling you towards the restrooms. You don't even have the chance to protest, not that you want to.
He is quick to pull you into an empty restroom, locking the door behind the two of you before his lips attack yours, pushing you against the door with vigor and hunger. His hands are already bunching your dress up around your waist and you moan his name when your hips meet and you feel his hard length through his jeans.
"We have to be quick, so no one notices we disappeared," he pants as he helps you up to the counter, your back hitting the cold mirror behind you.
"Then shut up and just fuck me," you challenge him and it makes him absolutely feral.
You don't have time to enjoy it the way you usually do in bed, but the excitement of the situation alone has gotten you so wet that you're already dripping when he pushes your panties to the side with one hand while his other works on his own pants.
"Fuck, already so wet for me, huh?" he breathes out, his lips brushing against yours before they kiss you fully.
"Just like how you're rock hard for me," you grin against his lips, a hand wandering down to his cock as you pull it out of his boxers, stroking it a few times before he pulls a condom out of his back pocket and wraps himself up. "Were you counting on this quickie, Styles?" you ask when you realize that he just had a condom ready on him.
"I knew for sure I'm gonna fuck you tonight, but wasn't sure how long I'm gonna last," he grins, capturing your lips again before he pushes himself inside you with no warning, making you both gasp.
"Fuck! Harry!" you moan as he starts moving rapidly, definitely not taking his time like he usually does. He is pounding into you without mercy, panting against your lips as his ring clad fingers are digging into the flesh of your thighs.
"You like that? Like it when I fuck you somewhere public?" he growls, making your legs curl around his hips.
Your hands move up his chest and neck, fingers tangling into his curls and you give them a tug, earning an animalistic grunt from him as he starts going even harder and faster. You're rapidly getting closer to your orgasm.
"You close?" he pants and you nod. "Come on, cum all over my cock, Y/N."
A few more thrusts and your walls tighten around his dick, squeezing him as you gasp, riding your high, your head falling backwards, meeting with the mirror behind you. Harry follows you a few pushes later, moaning your name repeatedly before his movements come to a halt and you both take a moment to catch your breath.
When he pulls out you both just quietly clean yourselves up, fixing your clothes and hair so you don't entirely scream sex with your appearances.
"My offer to come to mine after still stands," he smirks, running a hand through his hair before you head out.
"Tempting, but I have some work to do in the morning, so no," you turn him down, stepping out to the dark hallway that leads back to the bar. Harry grabs your hand and pulls you back, his lips smashing against yours, surprising you with his move. He kisses you deeply, sucking on your bottom lip hard before he pulls back.
"What was that for?" you ask out of breath.
"If you're not coming over, I needed something to have a good night," he shrugs with a smug smirk before you return to the bar.
You catch the bartender's look as you finally get your waters and Harry pays for them. You catch the two men eyeing each other for a moment before you and Harry return to the table and you forget about the whole thing.
A Sunday afternoon you're lounging at Harry's. You jumped at each other's bones when you arrived, but now you're chilling on his couch, watching a series you both wanted to start so you decided to give it a go together. Your leg is lying across Harry's lap, his hands absentmindedly kneading your thighs. It feels nice, like a massage, especially after how sore he made you earlier, stretching you out more than he usually does with a new pose you tried out.
Your phone chimes next to you and tearing your gaze away from the TV you check to see who just sent you a text. It was one of your coworkers, Anthony, he sent you a raging text about how he still has no idea what to wear to the company party that's gonna be next Saturday and you realize that you totally forgot about it.
"Shit!" you curse under your breath.
"What?" Harry asks, pausing the show.
"I have this stupid work party next weekend and I totally forgot about it," you growl, checking your calendar quickly if you can squeeze in a quick shopping spree before Saturday or you'll have to find something in your closet.
"Aren't those things nice with a lot of free food and drinks?" Harry wonders.
"Yeah, but I don't like it, because all my colleagues bring their partners and I'm usually the only single one and they keep trying to set me up with someone," you roll your eyes even at the thought of having to suffer through another one of those awkward conversations about your love life. Like it's any of their concern!
"I can go with you if that helps," he offers and you give him a look over your phone. "What? I'm sure if you brought someone they wouldn't bug you."
"But we are not together," you remind him narrowing your eyes at him.
"They don't have to know that. It's a win-win, Y/N. Your colleagues would stop nagging you and I can eat and drink for free," he smirks, clearly pleased with his little plan.
"I mean... you're not wrong," you sigh.
"See? Then it's settled," he pats your legs, smirking widely at you, but you're still not entirely convinced. "Come on, Y/N. It's gonna be fun!"
"This is so cliché, Harry!" you groan, your head falling back against the arm of the couch. "Pretending to be a couple? Straight out of a damn movie."
Harry lifts your legs up so he can get out from under them, placing them back to the cushion before he climbs over to you, half of his body pressing onto yours as he squints his eyes at you.
"We can fuck in the bathroom, if you want," he bluntly offers and you just start laughing at his dirty mind and technique of convincing you. "What? There's literally no better offer out there. Free food, free drinks and free sex. Really good sex, if I may add," he points out and you smack his chest lightly.
"Didn't know you were thinking about charging me for the sex," you joke.
"Might as well do, baby. Especially if it's the best you can get," he smugly huffs and you'd retort something funny, but you get caught up on the name.
"Baby? Since when are you calling me baby?"
"Since we are gonna be a couple next week. Gotta rehearse, baby," he repeats the nickname and a foreign feeling bubbles in the pit of your stomach. Why is this one little word making you feel things you haven't before? "And you know what else we can rehearse?" he continues, oblivious to your inner dialogue.
You don't get to answer upon feeling his hand slide between your legs, fingers gently pressing onto your clothed clit and though you can't stop a moan from slipping through your lips, you still grab his wrist and pull him away.
"My legs are too sore, I wouldn't enjoy another round of you pounding into me," you tell him and you can see the proud glimmer in his eyes that he was the one who got you into this state, though he luckily doesn't comment on it.
"It doesn't have to be pounding, then," he smirks and leaning down he kisses you, taking his time as his hand frees itself from your grip and slides under your shorts and panties, fingers meeting your already throbbing bud.
He repositions himself so one of his thighs are between your legs, his lips never leaving yours as his fingers start drawing circles on your clit, sending pleasure down your body in waves.
"Fuck," you breathe out against his lips when two of his fingers tease your entrance before pushing all the way inside, curling them between your clenching, wet walls.
"No, we are not fucking right now," he smirks, never missing a chance to joke around and you want to retort to his comment, but words get caught in your throat when his thumb starts playing with your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you in a steady rhythm.
"So, are we on for Saturday? It's gonna be fun, hm?"
The little shit is using his fingers to convince you and he has the audacity to ask you questions when you are about to see stars. Sometimes you really do hate how big of a smug fucker Harry is, but it's hard to feel hatred for him when he is about to make you cum again.
"I-I don't... Harry!" you gasp when he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, right when you were so close. "I was about to fucking cum!" you growl, raging eyes meeting his green irises.
"I know," he chuckles. "Say that you're in and I'll make you cum."
"You motherfu—"
You don't get to finish, his lips smashing against yours as his fingers return, moving faster than before, quickly pushing you towards the edge again.
"Say it. Say it, Y/N," he mumbles against your lips as your chest is heaving and you start buckling your hips to meet his movements.
"Fuck... Okay! I'm in, just please make me cum!" you whine, hands gripping his shoulders like your life depends on it.
"Good girl," he smirks and finishes you off without any more teasing.
You cry out his name, fingers digging into his muscles as you push your thighs together, trapping his hand between them while he keeps fingering you oh so perfectly. He makes sure you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he pulls his fingers out and without batting an eye, he just licks them and fixes your panties and shorts before returning to his previous position with your legs across his lap, starting the show like nothing really happened.
Saturday morning you're able to quickly get your nails done and Leticia comes with you, the two of you having brunch together afterwards. You go to a new place near the nail salon and as the waiter arrives with your orders, you notice that he slides a napkin onto the table with a small smile.
Grabbing it you see a phone number scribbled onto it. Normally, you send back a smile and tug the napkin into your purse, but this time you just leave it on the table and decide to ignore it.
"What the hell is up with you?" Leticia asks and glancing up at her you see her gesturing towards the napkin. "You don't seem too thrilled about the approach which is very unlike you."
"Yeah, I don't know. I'm just... not interested," you shrug, reaching for your fork.
"Not interested? The dude looks like the lovechild of Chris Hemsworth and Johnny Depp. He is exactly your type, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I'm just not seeking another hookup right now, that's it."
"Oh my God!" Leticia gasps and you give her a puzzled look.
"What?"
"You don't want other men because of Harry!"
"What? That's crazy," you laugh, because she has clearly left her mind at the salon for even thinking that.
"Have you hooked up with anyone else than Harry since you've made your little deal?"
"I, uhh... Flirted with the bartender when we were out together."
"Flirting doesn't count, not even in relationships."
"I don't think many would agree with that, Tish," you huff.
"Okay, but did you have any interest in fucking someone else?"
"I don't get it why you are making a big deal out of it. Why would I seek anyone else if I'm perfectly pleased by him?"
"Honey, that's like... how relationships work."
"That's not true," you shake your head, though what would you know about relationships? Your first and only one was when you were seventeen and it lasted twenty-one pathetic days.
"Are you fucking with anyone else?" She asks, eyebrows raised at you as you shake your head no. "Are you fucking him?"
"Obviously," you scoff.
"Do you spend time together that doesn't include sex?"
You are almost quick to say no, but then you realize that would be a big ass lie. Every time he comes over to your place or you're at his, it's never just the sex. That's always primary, but not everything you do. All the dinners, the movies and shows you've watched together, when you sit on your tiny balcony with a bottle of wine, talking and laughing like you always did before the deal, something always happens after the sex.
Your silence once again answers Leticia's question. Reaching over the table she takes your hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze.
"Girl, you are totally dating Harry."
Leticia once again manages to put a flea in your ear about this whole Harry thing. You wish she didn't say a thing, because now you can't think of anything else than the fact that you really are doing all the things with Harry that people who are dating do.
You get so riled up that you almost cancel on the evening, but you'd hate to have to sit through the evening with your colleagues alone when you said you'd be bringing someone. That would make their usual nagging a hundred times worse. So instead, you suck it up and decide to ignore the issue just for the time being and you get ready.
You were able to find a new dress beforehand, the yellow dress is truly a sight to the sore eyes with the corset-like top and very subtle lace details here and there. It's a little daring, but everyone goes all out for these parties usually and you definitely don't want to be underdressed.
Harry texts you that he is in front of the building a little before seven, holding up the taxi he came with so you quickly grab everything you need and head out.
You're the first one to see him through the glass entrance doors of your building, he is standing next to the car in a simple black suit and a soft yellow shirt underneath. It was actually your idea to match your outfits and he surely understood the assignment, especially seeing his also yellow nails.
Part of you is still hung up on what Leticia told you, but a bigger one is so excited to see him and also very into his look for the evening, that you push your doubts to the back of your mind and step out of the building with a shy smile on your lips as his eyes fall on you and you see his lips part.
"Wow! This dress is... wow!" he breathes out, his eyes raking your frame up and down shamelessly as you walk closer.
"Do you know any other words than wow?" you tease him, biting into your bottom lip.
"Yeah. How about: I would love to bend you over this taxi and take you here and now in this dress?"
Your face heats up immediately, slapping his arm, but then you leave your hand on his bicep and give it a squeeze as your answer: you'd definitely love that if it wasn't kind of illegal to have sex out on a busy street.
The ignorance in you is so high that you don't even mind how Harry keeps a hand on your thigh in the car, what's more, you're quite liking the warmth of his touch on you. His fingers are gently tapping against the music the driver is playing and he even hums a little along the songs.
"Hey, how is the album writing going?" you ask to break the silence a little.
"Great! They asked for fifteen songs until the end of August, so I have plenty of time, but I'm already done with six," he beams, and you smile back at him proudly.
"That's amazing. Can I hear any of them sometime?"
"I mean... if you buy the album?" he chuckles, making you roll your eyes at him. "I'll see what I can do about that," he then adds, giving your leg another squeeze before turning towards the window.
The party is just the same as it always is. A luxurious evening to celebrate the company's success in the past six months, a way to give back to the employees and make them feel appreciated with all the free stuff. It's nice, but you don't feel like it's necessary, people would be happier with a raise after all, than one night of free food and drinks.
Harry holds your hand as you walk in, the majority of the guests already present, music playing and there are several open buffet tables and bars in the gigantic ballroom that was decorated in a forest-like theme just for tonight.
"So you did not lie about bringing a date!" Anthony beams as soon as he sees you, his boyfriend, Pete following him right behind, both of them wearing matching burgundy suits.
"Have I lied to you about anything?" you chuckle awkwardly.
"Plenty of times," he points out before turning towards Harry. "Hello handsome, I'm Anthony, Y/N's favorite coworker, and this is my boyfriend, Pete." They all shake hands, Harry smiling back at them warmly before his hand finds yours again, his fingers lacing together with yours in an instant.
"Nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you, I'm Harry."
"Oh my! The accent!" Anthony gushes, clearly already a fan of Harry's. "I was really afraid Y/N just said that she is bringing someone so we would get out of her hair this time."
"I feel offended," you give him a look, but he just shrugs it off, even though he is more right than he knows.
"Come on, let's get you guys a drink, we are all sitting over there!"
Joining all your coworkers at the table, you get a head start on the food and drinks, not shying away from stacking everything you like onto your plate. Talking, mixing and mingling, Harry stays right next to you, charming everyone the two of you meet, earning you some approving looks from your colleagues that usually try to set you up with someone they know. This time, you're left in peace the moment they see Harry with you, his hand always somewhere on you, holding your hand, the small of your back, your hips or waist or, your personal favorite, the back of your neck under your hair. His presence is uplifting already, but his tiny touches just warm you even more on the inside.
"I have to say, Y/N, you are absolutely glowing!" Dianne, one of the editors compliment you when the two of you are at the bar waiting for your drinks to be refilled. Harry stayed back at the table, deep in conversation with Pete about guitars, from what you could understand from their conversation.
"Oh, thank you!" you chuckle softly.
"This man is for sure treating you well. It's so great to see you finally finding your person."
She meant well with her comment, but it's what brings everything you kept hidden in the back of your head out to the front. Tonight was supposed to be all pretending, making everyone believe something that's not even there, but then why do you feel like it's real? Like you fooled yourself with everyone else as well?
Your eyes fall back to Harry at the table, who is intently listening to something Pete is telling him and as if he had a sixth sense, his eyes snap at you, a smile stretching across his pretty face at an instant that makes you stomach dance again, heart beating oddly fast.
What is happening to you? This cannot be real, you can't be having feelings, especially not for Harry. No, you do not allow that for yourself, emotions are off limits for you, because if you fall for someone that gives them the chance to leave you and break you and you've seen what it does to a woman. You got enough of the suffering through your mother and you vowed not to let it happen to you. And not even Harry Styles will change that. This is about sex and nothing else, no feelings are involved and that will not change. You won't let it.
Excusing yourself from Dianne you quickly go back to the table, the refills long forgotten as you take your seat next to Harry. His hand instantly finds your leg as he looks at you with a sweet smile at first that turns into slight confusion.
"Thought you went for a refill?"
"Forget the drinks," you shake your head, leaning closer to his ear. "You promised me bathroom sex."
You feel the shift in him right away, how he bites into his bottom lip, his bright green irises darkening at your words, his hold on your leg tightening. His gaze flickers to your eyes and you want to devour him, you want him to take you here and there to prove you that this is all it's about: sex.
Clearing his throat he mumbles a lame excuse as he pulls you from your chair, tugging you towards the restrooms, you try to keep up with his pace in your heels, but you also can't wait for him to slam you against the door and fuck you quick and hard.
As soon as you're locked away from the party in one of the bathrooms, your lips collide with his as he pushes you up against the door, a leg coming between your thighs and you can't stop yourself from grinding on him.
"Fuck," he rasps out, hands cupping your jaw as he angles your head just right while your hands are already traveling down his body to reach his pants, eager to get them undone as fast as possible.
However the sudden rush and desperation catches Harry's eyes and he grabs your hands, stopping you mid-action.
"Hey, everything alright?" he asks, out of breath, concern filling his eyes.
"I just need you to fuck me," you bluntly reply, but he doesn't move.
"Okay, but why do you look so shaken up? Did something happen?"
"Harry, stop babying me! I said I'm fine, I just want you to fuck me!" you snap, losing your patience. Not sure if it's with him or with yourself though.
"You're obviously not fine! You are snapping at me for being decent and making sure you're okay!" Harry steps away from you, the moment completely ruined as all physical contact ends with him, his eyes staring back at you in disbelief and you feel like a ticking bomb that's about to explode.
"It's not your concern if I'm okay or not. We have a deal, just go with that and leave the rest to me!"
"But above the deal we are friends too. I'm not gonna just... fuck you senseless when you're obviously upset about something. You're not in the right mindset."
"Oh my God, stop being so fucking nice! Stop making these grand gestures and stop pretending like you give a fuck!" You raise your voice and it surely surprises him, but he is still more concerned than angry at your outburst.
"What do you mean pretending? I do care about you! Is that a fucking crime now?!"
"It is because it is for the wrong reasons!" you retort, feeling your throat closing up at the same time. Oh God, you hope you won't start crying, that will make it even worse. "I think you are taking this pretending a little too far tonight. We are not a couple, this is not real, Harry," you remind him.
He stares back at you for what feels like eternity and you wish you could read his mind, because you can't read anything from his eyes, he just stands there like a statue and you feel panic crawling up your spine, slowly digging its claws into your flesh.
And then he finally breaks his silence.
"And would it be so bad if it was real?"
You can't help a sob that emits from you, feeling like your guts are in a tight grip by his words. This is exactly what you didn't want to happen.
"No, take that back!" you whine.
"I'm not taking it back! Y/N, what we've been doing these past weeks is exactly what a relationship is like and you didn't seem to have a problem with it until a label was put on it. It doesn't have to change anything!"
"But it is! And you know I don't do this!"
"Don't do what? Feelings? You don't get to choose that!" he chuckles bitterly.
"I do! I fucking do! And I chose not to have them so... this is ending here, because you clearly caught feelings," you pant in desperate need of getting out of the bathroom, but when you are about to open the door Harry's hand snaps against it, keeping it closed. You rest your forehead against the cool surface of it, feeling Harry stand so close to you behind, his chest is touching your back.
"Don't just walk away, we are in the middle of a conversation," he growls, his voice filled with anger and warning.
"I don't have anything to say to you," you whisper, shaking your head as you turn around and face him, your back pressing against the door.
"But I do," he simply replies. "Why do you think you can just run away from feeling anything for the rest of your life? Why would it be so bad if you fell for someone, huh? I know you do have feelings, I know you well, Y/N. You're not some cold hearted jerk, you are a caring and loving person, so why won't you let yourself be happy?"
"I am happy the way I am, have you thought about that?"
"No, you're not. I've known you half my life, I know that you want to be cared for, you want to be loved and cherished, yet you push away everyone who wants to give you that."
"Because it's not that easy, Harry!" you snap at him. "It's never just the lovey-dovey shit! Feelings come with hurt and pain and heartbreaks and I don't need that! I can't handle that!"
"It's not always the case! But if you never put yourself out there, you'll never find the happiness you're seeking!"
"Well, for me, it doesn't worth it! I don't want to fall for someone, plan my future with them and open up to them completely only for them to fall out of love with me one day and decide they don't want anything to do with me! I don't want to give anyone the chance to hurt me like that, because I've seen what it does to a person! I witnessed it all, Harry! I will not be a victim to that!"
You're full on shouting, tears rolling down your cheeks at this point. You are letting everything out that's been bottled up deep inside of you all this time. Nothing can make you believe in the fairytale that will never become your reality and you rather save the time and pain than experiment with it.
What really hurts is that now you are losing your friend. Your best friend. Because the way Harry is looking at you makes it obvious that you'll never be like before the deal. The hurt, the shock, the panic and the anger, it all mixes in his wide-eyed gaze and it's like a knife into your chest.
"You promised me, Harry," you sob, voice now barely more than just a whisper. "You swore you wouldn't catch feelings but you lied!"
"I didn't lie," he simply answers clenching his jaw. "I said I wouldn't catch feelings for you, but truth is... I already had them. I was already in love with you, have been for a while. And you know what? I think you love me too, but you're just too afraid to admit it. I know it because I can feel it. The way you touch me, look at me, the way you talk to me, it's written all over you, but you choose to ignore it."
"You don't know shit," you shake your head vigorously. "You think you know it, but you don't."
"Stop denying it, Y/N! You can't just switch it off! Loving is not as horrendous as you think it is! Yes, it comes with pain too, but the good is always there to make you forget about it. You have to give it... you have to give yourself a chance!"
"I don't have to do anything, Harry," you sass back, pushing him away so you have the chance to sneak out of the room before he could stop you. But he doesn't let it end that easily. Running after you he catches your wrist before you could get out of the hallway, pulling you back.
"Don't just fucking walk away, Y/N! We need to talk about this!"
"No, we don't. And I'm done with this. Done with... you."
It hurts. The words rolling off of your tongue hurt, but you choose to ignore it once again as you shake his hand off of yourself, marching back to your table to grab your bag and leave.
"What do you mean you're done with me? Don't do this, Y/N! Let's just fucking talk!"
Harry keeps trying to stop you, but you're determined to leave. Your coworkers notice the little scene, but you don't pay it any attention as you head out of the room, knowing well they'll talk shit about you behind your back as soon as you're out of the building.
"Y/N for fuck's sake just stop already!" Harry snaps, grabbing your arm once again when you're outside, pulling you back, but you've had enough.
"No! I'm not stopping, you need to stop! Stop trying to make yourself believe this is anything more than just the deal we made! It's not and it will never be, because you don't get to have the privilege of hurting me, nobody gets to do that!"
"Who said I want to hurt you?! That's the last thing I would want to do! It's not as cruel as you imagine it, Y/N. I know that your mum had a terrible love life when you were younger, but that's not the only side to love! There are so much good about it, so much to fight for and endure with the bad sides, you can't just throw all of it out the window because you decided love is just not for you!"
"I can and I will. Watch me!" you bite back, tearing your arm out of his hold as you step to the side of the pavement and wave a taxi down.
"Please don't get into that car, Y/N, let's talk!"
"We talked enough," you huff as the car stops in front of you and you hop inside, but just as you are about to close the door Harry once again stops you.
"Y/N, I love you. Please don't do this!" he begs, so much sorrow and pain radiating from his face and for a moment you fall weak. You almost reach out to him, because part of you hates seeing him like this, especially knowing that it's because of you. You just want him to be happy, but you know it's not gonna be with you. You can never give him what he wants and needs. He'll be better off without you.
"I'm sorry," you choke out before pulling the door closed and the car drives away. Turning around you see him stand on the pavement, completely broken and shaken, his hands tangling into his hair as he angrily kicks at the dirt before the car melts into the traffic and he falls out of your sight.
You did it for your and Harry's sake. It had to be done and you are both better off this way. At least that's what you've been trying to convince you to believe.
But why does it hurt so badly then?
Harry tried you calling a million times after you left him at the party, he even came after you and banged on your door for thirty minutes straight, begging you to let him in and just talk, but you didn't even answer him. Just waited until he left before you curled up in the shower and cried for about an hour.
The calls and texts kept coming in the next few days, but after a while he gave up. He got nothing but silence from your side and one last, long ass text that you didn't even read because you knew you'd just start crying again, he finally gave up.
You were left alone with all the pain and emptiness and you realized how big part of your life Harry played before. Somehow, everything reminded you of him and you couldn't do anything without wishing he was with you.
You truly believed that time will heal you, that soon you'll realize that you made the right decision, but days turned into weeks and nothing changed, you just learned to live with the pain. You stopped going out with your friends and not just because you were afraid of seeing Harry, but because you genuinely couldn't get yourself to leave the house. Your evenings consisted of binge eating all the ice-cream you could find in your freezer and watching reruns of your favorite shows, but nothing could really take your mind off of Harry.
Day after day you cancelled on Leticia as well until she had enough of your hermit life. She got fed up watching you sink into your pit of sorrow and decided to take things into her own hands and not let you run away from her.
A Friday evening you're doing what you've been doing for weeks now, lying on your couch in sweatpants, scrolling through Netflix when there's a knock on your door. You wait, hoping whoever it is will think you're not home and go away, but another obnoxious knock rips through the apartment and you growl.
"I know you're in there bitch, open the fucking door!" Leticia shouts from outside and you curse the day you became friends with her. Maybe you would have been better off as enemies.
"I'm busy!" you call out, but make your way to the front door anyway, opening it to reveal her.
"Yeah, I can see that. Busy with being a bag of trash," she comments on your appearance, walking inside without an invitation.
"Jeez, you really did wake up today and chose violence," you mutter under your breath as you shut the door closed.
Leticia is quick to turn the TV off and open up the windows as you just stand there, not sure what she is doing here.
"When did you clean this place? And when was the last time you took a shower?" she asks, her nose scrunching when she takes a better look at you.
"Okay, did you come here to offend me? Because I don't need that so please leave."
"No, I'm here to beat some sense into you."
"Good luck with that," you scoff, taking your spot on the couch once again. You reach for the remote with the intention of turning the TV back on, but Leticia stands in front of the screen, blocking the device completely as she stares down at you with a disapproving look, arms folded on her chest.
"You're acting like a child, Y/N. Avoiding everyone and being mad at the whole world, are you an emo teenager now or what?"
"I'm not mad at the whole world!"
"Okay, then you're mad at just Harry, still, it's a mistake."
"I'm not mad at only Harry either," you admit truthfully.
"Who else then?"
"Myself?" you mumble, eyes falling closed as you slide lower down on the couch.
"That makes the two of us, but why are you mad at yourself?" she asks, finally moving from her spot in front of the TV as she sits next to you on the couch, crossing her legs as she waits for your answer.
"Because..." you start with a sigh, opening your eyes, but you avoid looking at her, instead, you stare at the wall across you. "Because I can't fucking stop thinking about him," you admit and your lips start trembling instantly, just like every time you think about him. "I miss him so fucking badly, Tish! I miss our conversations, I miss his stupid jokes, I miss him raiding my fucking fridge and I miss..."
You bite your tongue, not wanting to admit the next thoughts loudly. Because you miss kissing him, you miss holding him and be held by him. You miss sex too, but you miss the tiny things even more, the way his lips feel against yours, how he smiles against them when you whimper his name and you miss the awkward little things the most. When he accidentally bumps his head against yours or when say random shit right before he pushes into you just to make you laugh, or when he leans in for a kiss but misses it and ends up kissing your nose or just the corner of your mouth. You miss everything about him and you hate him for that, but you hate yourself even more. It feels like your own conscious has betrayed you.
Shutting your eyes closed you let the tears roll down your cheeks as Leticia scoots closer and wraps her arms around you, cooing soothingly at you.
"It's alright. It's totally normal, Y/N."
"It is not! Not for me at least!" you protest pulling back, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands.
"Stop with the bullshit already!" she growls in annoyance. "You are not some kind of ice queen who is incapable of loving! You love me, right?"
"Yeah, but that's different," you roll your eyes.
"Not really. You love your other friends as well, right?" You nod. "And you love your mom," she adds and you nod again. "Would you do anything for these people?"
"Of course."
"Do you like spending time with them? Do you care about them in all kinds of ways?"
"Yes," you sigh, fumbling with the hem of your shirt.
"Do you feel the same way about Harry? Do you care about him, would you do anything for him to make him happy?"
"Yes," you whisper truthfully.
"Then don't complicate it. You love him, no big deal! And he surely loves you back, because he told you, right?" You nod. "Then pull your head out of your ass and just let yourself be happy for once."
"Why are you coming with this too? I was happy on my own too!"
"No, you were getting by," she points it out. "You were doing good, but you weren't... a whole. Harry gave you everything you missed, but for some fucked up reason you think it's the end of the world to depend on someone else partially when it comes to your happiness. Which can be a smart thing, it's important to be your own person and be independent, but sometimes we need some help from others. From people that love us and we love them back. It's not a crime, Y/N."
"No, but it's gonna end up with me being heartbroken."
"You already are," she ruthlessly replies, bringing your attention to what you've been trying to ignore all this time. "Hate to break it to you, but this is what that feels like. So why not just go with it, you already felt the pain, now you could go for the good parts as well."
"I don't know if I can do it, Tish," you breathe out, resting your head against the back of the couch. "Even if I did it, I know I would mess it up and hurt him or maybe he'll do something stupid and hurt me and I don't think I can handle that."
"So what? It's part of the deal. And besides, you're already hurting each other, so you better get your shit together," she scoffs, poking your side playfully.
It's part of the deal. Are you ready to make a new deal? One that you've been avoiding your whole life? Are you ready to cut yourself open for someone else and just hope for the best?
Probably not. And probably you'll never be. But your tactics didn't succeed so far, you still ended up in pain so why not give it a chance? Even if it's gonna be the hardest thing you've ever done?
"Do you think he hates me now?" you ask quietly, peeking at her scared of her answer.
"He is a bit mad at you for shutting him out, but he could never hate you. That man loves you so much, it's almost disgusting," she admits, making you chuckle. "Just... be honest with him and talk to him. You need it. You both need it."
Harry's fingers strum against the chords again, trying to get the tune right, but he fails again, a frustrated growl leaving his lips as he lets his head fall forwards. He's been trying to finish the song for hours, but it still hasn't come together the way he imagined and his patience is running short.
It's been hard for him to focus on writing, with you on his mind all the time, everything seems like a hard task. He has written plenty of songs since the night at the party, but he could never use them for his job. One, because they are so fucking sad and depressive and they asked for upbeat hits from him, and two, because they are all so personal, he could never give them to someone else. He can't let anyone else sing the lines he wrote to you, but you'll probably never hear them.
Giving up on finishing the song today, he puts the guitar aside and calls it a day. Walking into the kitchen he opens the fridge and realizes that it's completely empty aside from a bottle of ketchup and a single banana. He's been such a mess lately, he forgot to go grocery shopping yesterday. Huffing to himself he grabs the banana and reaches for his phone to order something right when his doorbell rings. He is not expecting anyone, but Mitch has been popping in every few days to check in on him since everything that went down with you, so Harry is convinced it's him again.
"Great timing, do you want Italian or Chinese?" he asks, walking up to the door, but as he swings it open he freezes when he sees you standing on the doormat. "Y/N..." he breathes out as if he was seeing a ghost.
"Hi! I-I hope I'm not bothering you o-or anything..." you ramble nervously.
"No! No, come on in!" He snaps out of his trance and steps aside, letting you walk inside. A feeling of nostalgia hits you right away as you think back at the last time you were here. Just a few days before the party, when everything was different.
"I'm sorry I came without asking, I just... I would say I was nearby, but that's not true," you chuckle anxiously as the two of you walk into the living room. You notice that his place is a little messier than usually, but it's not nearly as bad as yours was before you did a deep cleaning yesterday after Leticia's comments on it.
"It's fine, don't worry about it. What... What brought you here?"
"I, uhh... I've been thinking. A lot. And I have a few things I need to tell you."
For a moment Harry's stomach drops, because he thinks you came here to tell him off one more time for breaking your deal, for everything that happened at the party. He is already bracing himself to just let you lash out on him, but it never comes. And when you speak up again, he nearly faints.
"I love you."
It's a strong start, definitely a surprising one. Harry's lips part and his eyes widen, his look almost comical, but you're not laughing, not now. You have a lot to tell him and you can only hope he won't throw you out after everything is said.
"I love you and I'm sorry it took me so long to stop ignoring it, but I promise you I'm done with that. And I'm sorry for everything I said to you that night, I was... mad and confused and I didn't know how to deal with everything at once. I was delusional and ignorant and... a fool for thinking that I could just choose to never have feelings, especially for you," you add with a tiny, nervous chuckle. "You were right. About everything. That I can't live without ever putting myself out there and risking it. And I think deep down I knew that, but I was so afraid of getting hurt that I made myself believe I'm good on my own, but I'm not. Not entirely, to be precise. Because sometimes it is worth risking it and... and I realized that you are the person for me who is worth this risk."
The tears are already blurring your vision, for the millionth time these past weeks, but it feels right now. Opening up to Harry and telling him all of this is hard, but with every spoken word you feel lighter and more relieved.
"I'm sorry if I made you think that I don't love you, because I do. I really do. You are my best friend and these past weeks have been hell for me without you. I was so keen on avoiding a heart break that I ended up breaking my own heart," you chuckle bitterly, the first tear running down your cheek.
Harry reaches out and wipes it away with his thumb and you involuntarily melt into his touch. You've been starved for it and now it feels like home. When you look up and your eyes meet his, you see that they are red too and it just makes you want to cry even more.
"I didn't mean to hurt you, I just thought that I was doing the right thing, but I was so far from that. So I'm really sorry and I understand if you don't want to see me again for the way I acted. I was... a horrible friend and... an even worse girlfriend."
"Girlfriend?" he asks quietly.
"Yeah. Because you were right, we were more than just the deal and... if you choose not to throw me out after this, I would... I would love to give it a try with you. I want to be the girlfriend you deserve and though I'm sure I'll mess it up a lot of times, I promise I'll try my best, becau—"
He makes your rambling stop in the best way possible, lips smashing against yours as he cups your tear-soaked cheeks in his warm palms, pulling you close to him, your arms curling around his waist immediately.
Harry has kissed you several times before, but none of them compares to this. It's messy and salty from both your tears, but you wouldn't change a thing about it, the way his lips move against yours, tongues meeting, devouring each other, making up for the lost time and full of promises for the future. You hold onto his shirt at his back for dear life as he just keeps kissing you over and over again until you both run out of breath.
"So, does this mean you're not throwing me out?" you joke, breaking the silence once you've pulled back.
"Fuck no," he laughs, pecking your lips a few more times before his lips meet your forehead. "You are not leaving this place, ever. You're trapped," he adds to the joke and you break out in a relieved laughter.
"Wait, so I'm stuck with you now?" you whine playfully, but all you get is another kiss on the lips, hard and demanding.
"Yeah, forever, baby. You won't get rid of me now, not after the speech you just gave me," he smirks down at you, his arms coming to curl around your shoulders as he keeps you pressed against him tightly. "I love you."
"I love you too," you reply, your heart soaring as you hear those words again from him, this time, not even trying to dodge them in any way. In fact, you just want to hear him say it every minute over and over again for the rest of your life. "And I'm happy to be stuck with you," you add with a shy smile as his grin widens at your words.
"Yeah? So we have a new deal then?" he teases, kissing the corner of your mouth.
"Absolutely."