⚠️⚠️ smut!! ;-) ⚠️⚠️
( if you've read up till this point, I don't even think you need a warning anymore ha ;) )
Happy Friday everyone!!
HS
I run a towel through my hair before using it to wrap around my hips as I step out of my bathroom. I trudge downstairs and over to my kitchen, making myself a cup of coffee to last me through the night.
"You know, for a creative designer, I would have thought you would have been smart enough to lock your door." A voice speaks up. I let out a very manly shriek, my heart leaping out of my chest, and I almost topple over as I take a large step backwards in shock. I shoot him a glare as he makes himself comfortable on my sofa and crosses his legs casually.
"Fuck! Jesus, Niall. Make yourself at home, why don't ya?" I pant out sarcastically, clutching onto my chest as though trying to stop the sudden accelerate of my heart. He splutters out a laugh, a loud, yet calming and soothing kind of laugh.
"Sorry. But seriously, you're a fucking millionaire and you don't lock your doors. It's like you're asking to be burgled." He breathes out as he eyes me from his spot on my couch.
"Why? Caring for me already, aren't ya?" I tease and he rolls his eyes.
"Don't flatter yourself, babe. If I was a millionaire, I wouldn't want my house getting broken into." He says and I release a soft snicker.
I walk over to my door, before locking it shut. "Happy?" I say with a tiny smirk.
"Very. You know, you should consider just wearing your towel out." He smirks, before his eyes nonchalantly rakes my body up and down. I chuckle softly.
"Yeah, and risk my face to be all over the internet?" I quirk an eyebrow.
"I wouldn't mind your face all over me, though." He grins cheekily. I spurt out a laugh, before shaking my head in amusement.
"You're a cute flirt. Want a drink?" I offer with a small smirk, gesturing for him to follow me into the kitchen.
"Yeah, water is fine." I raise an eyebrow, glancing over my shoulders before I breathe out a short laugh.
"Huh, water. Never would I have imagined Niall Horan would be choosing water over beer." I tease, reaching out for a cup in one of my cupboards.
"You're just one smart-aleck huh?" He drawls out. I chuckle softly, before grabbing the decanter from my fridge and pouring him his water.
"Your water decanter is made out of glass. Can you get any fancier than that?" He muses and I snort out a laugh, sliding the cup of water across the kitchen island and over to him.
"Did you come here to be a smart arse or have sex." I raise an eyebrow with a smirk and he casually shrugs.
"I don't know man," he says in a singsong tune, propping an elbow on my marble counter and resting his chin in his palm. "You were the one who invited me here. Who knows what I'm here for." He puts on a fake thinking face, drumming his face against the side of his cheek and I roll my eyes playfully.
"Someone's cockier than usual today." I smirk and he chuckles softly. I watch in amusement as he looks down at his crotch before nodding to himself.
"I'd take that as a compliment." He looks back up at me with a grin. I chuckle softly, before stalking around my kitchen island and make my way over to him. Shifting sideways in his spot on my high stool, he looks at me, his eyes glistening in the dimness. He parts his legs and allows me to stand between them. I glance over his face, the corner of my lips tug into a small smirk, creasing in amusement.
The corners of his own lips are fighting a smile, his eyebrows slightly raised as his eyes glance down to my lips. His lips part a little, before his tongue peaks out just a tinge to wet his lips. His lips are so pretty. I've always been so captivated by those eyes of his, yet I never really notice how pretty his lips are. I have always been more focused on the feel of them on mine that I never really notice how pretty they are. So fucking pretty.
"Are you gonna kiss me or what?" He mumbles. I stare at his lips as he speaks— watching how they part and purse and move during that short question. My lips part and our breaths mingle. I breathe in rather shakily before I'm finally planting my lips on his— gently, yet with a hint of assertiveness.
His arms reach up to tangle around my neck. I breathe in sharply and kiss him delicately, my arms encircling his waist, drawing him closer, our lips hungry for each other's.
Our breathings quicken and with each passing second, I can feel the temperature in the room rising, my body heating up and my heart starts pounding with exhilaration.
I take a step backwards, but not detaching our lips, and pulling on his waist gently.
"Come." I whisper, before taking his hand in mine and bringing him with me.
I was about to walk up my stairs when I feel a tug on my arm. "Woah, wait. Where are we going?" He breathes out.
"Up to my attic to keep you hostage." I say sarcastically with the straightest face I could muster, before rolling my eyes with a small smirk.
"To my room, where else?" I say.
"Oh. Okay." He replies and I raise an eyebrow at his behaviour, but ignore it and continue to bring him upstairs.
I can feel him slowing down in his steps and I glance over my shoulder, to see him looking around my house.
"Doesn't it get lonely in here with such a big house to yourself?" He asks.
"That's what Liam tells me all the time." I say with a short laugh but shrugging right after.
"I'm at my studio most of the time anyway. When I'm home I'm usually doing my work, and I could really use the alone time to concentrate rather than having roommates bothering me every second." I explain and he hums in understanding.
"That makes sense." He mumbles. I smile lightly, before pushing open the door to my bedroom, closing it behind me after he has stepped in. I'm quick to back him up against my wooden door, staring into those blue eyes that are full of intensity. I had to tear my eyes off his, before they're trailing down his perfect body.
He's just a couple of inches shorter than me, which I like. His hands are strong, slightly rough from working, not to mention how awfully skilled they are. He's slim, yet muscular, which, his black t-shirt did a good job in accentuating. His black jeans are hugging his skinny, yet slightly muscular thighs. He has a sharp yet rounded nose and a thin pair of lips that was in a form of a smirk, which I would really like to kiss off. His rugged features are just so alluring. His jaw an angular shape that's filled with little stubbles. His pale skin just looks so...right.
He had the kind of face and body that could stop you in your tracks. It was what happened to me anyway. He completely caught my attention the moment we happened to walk past each other the first time in the club. His appearance alone was so seductive and alluring.
I hear his breathing becoming deeper, his lips part slightly.
His glimmering eyes search mine, and then moves down to inspect the rest of my body just like how I did to him. His lips turn up.
"Meet your approval?" I ask with a small, smug smirk.
He laughs. "Yes." He breathes out. I like his deep laugh. It tickles my insides. Just a little.
I pull him against my chest, his lips tickling my ear before it slides down my neck, his warm breath tingling on my skin. My face heats up as goosebumps raise over my skin at the seductive touch. Fuck. It heated up. It's like that simple touch just completely jolted my body awake.
My eyes meet his and his blue ones twinkle brightly, and knowingly. He knows. He knows the effect he has over me.
This effect. It's just lust. It's just lust.
Then, I'm kissing him once more. Long and deep. I feel his fingers carding through my hair, before he's tugging it at the long ends. The cool room already feels warm and all we want is to fuck each other's brains out— breathings fast, heart rates faster.
I'm soon pulling him off the wall, and pushing him down on my bed as I hover over him. I grip onto the base of his t-shirt, and pulling it off without waiting for him to consent. His bottom lip gets pulled between his teeth at my action, although, I did see a flash of nervousness in his eyes.
Before I could even ask what's wrong, he's tugging my head back down to his, this time, his tongue slipping right through my lips.
His hands reach between us, and he's undoing his jeans and pulling the fabric together with his boxers off in one swift motion.
He then encircles my waist once more, his hands slipping past the towel that's still tied around my hips and pushing it down.
"I'm really glad you're just in a towel." He murmurs.
"So am I. Half the work done for you innit?" I whisper. This is actually the only time where we are fully naked when doing it. Most times have just been quick fucks, too needy to even strip off our clothing. It's nice for a change.
I lean on an elbow, half my body leaning onto my side before my hand immediately slips down south. Without warning, my hand grasps his shaft, a sharp intake of oxygen enters his lungs before he releases a soft, long moan. I'm flicking my wrist, fast and hard, and then slow and steady, and then back to fast.
The profanities and moans of my name spilling from his lips uncontrollably, his heaving chest, his fingers clenching and unclenching so tightly onto my sheets, simply encourages me.
I press our lips together, swallowing his moans of pleasure. Then all at once I stop, and kiss from his chest to his stomach.
His body tenses up and I gaze up at him, to see him breathing deeply through his nose. This time, not because of anticipation or pleasure.
"You okay? What's wrong?" I ask gently, my hands resting on his ribs as I start rubbing small patterns on his skin. He clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably in his spot. I raise an eyebrow questioningly and he's quick to shake his head.
"Nothing. Continue. Please." He breathes out and I nod, hesitantly, but place my lips right back on his torso once again. My hands trail down to his thighs, gently gripping onto them as I shift myself down until I come eye to eye with his member.
I look back up at him, to see him already looking down at me with his eyes darkened with anticipation.
"First drawer." I say, pointing over to my dresser. He nods, quickly reaching over and pulling out some lube and a packet of condom.
I lick my lips, then, all at once, I'm taking him in, a low moan spilling from his lips. With my already coated fingers, I'm entering him from below, sucking and using my fingers all at once. I watch his reaction, feeling how his legs tremble slightly, hearing how his lips part with moans and loud puffs of air, watching his body writhe.
I pull him out from between my lips, before silently lubing myself up, feeling his intense gaze on me the entire time.
In seconds I'm on him again, and in one swift motion, I'm in him. Long, loud moans from the both of us fill up my large room.
Soon, I'm fucking him harder, just long enough to intoxicate both our minds before slowing down, and then picking up speed again.
"Fucking hell, Harry." He breathes out, his head tilting further back as his eyes fall shut.
I lean down, pressing our slightly sweaty foreheads together before kissing him sloppily.
With my lips, I feel his lips stretching wider than it should, fighting between grinning and kissing me back. We've done this so many times but it just keeps getting better.
I tried my best to make it last as long as I could. But having him moan my name repeatedly in my ear, our bodies sticky with sweat, his toned chest heaving up and down against mine, the feeling of our bodies writhing and trembling against each other's, watching as his eyes fight to keep themselves open, his red flushed cheeks, it's more than enough for me to reach my high.
An entire bundle of nerves explodes within me, feeling the same euphoric, pleasurable feeling spreading from the base of my spine up to my head, and back down all the way down to the tip of my toes.
I slowly ride out my high just until he reaches his, watching in awe how his substance spreads across his beautifully sculpted torso.
I release a groan as I reluctantly pull myself out from him, before toppling down next to him, half of me still on him, but he doesn't seem to care. Our heavy breathing is the only thing filling up the silence between us.
My eyes close shut as I let my body calm down from my high. I lazily reach towards my dresser, pulling out a packet of wet wipes and handing it to him.
He chuckles softly, before pulling out a piece.
"How resourceful." He remarks. I give him a lazy smirk, watching as he wipes his chest clean.
"Can I ask you something?" I ask breathily after awhile of silence. He releases a soft breath of air, letting his eyes close gently.
"You already did." His lips curl up at a corner into a smirk.
"But go for it." He says, before peeking an eye open and lolling his head over to look at me.
"Why don't you have a boyfriend?" I ask softly.
His naked chest is still rising up and down in slow, steady breaths, his eyes lost and distant. He blinks slowly, and cards a hand through his disheveled hair. He starts to push himself up from my bed, before swinging his legs over and sits on the edge, his back facing me.
My eyes then land on something that's carved onto the side of his ribs on his perfectly sculpted physique. A scar. A long one at that.
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. Is that why he was feeling so uncomfortable earlier? He didn't want me seeing it. My hands were this close to touching it earlier, probably even touched it without knowing. Maybe that's why he doesn't bother taking off his shirt when we have sex. He doesn't want me seeing that.
This boyfriend question must have obviously stumped him if he completely forgot about the scar that's on full display to me right now. And I probably should do the same and not ask about it. Doesn't stop me from thinking about it though. How did he get it? Did someone cause it?
"Am I not allowed to ask that?" I ask instead after awhile of lack of response from him.
I watch as his shoulders lift a little in a small shrug.
"I just don't do relationships." He simply answers.
"Is it commitment issues?" I press. He glances over his shoulder, side-eyeing me slightly.
"Not really. Something like that."
I frown slightly at his contradicting answer. "Who hurt you?" I dare myself to ask. Surprisingly, he scoffs.
"Question is, who hasn't." He mumbles, more to himself.
"I think he has been hurt enough." A random thought of Zayn's words flash through my mind which just left me stumped.
"Listen, I'm gonna go." He says before I even get a chance to part my lips to say something. He stands from my bed, his bum on full display and hurriedly pulls his t-shirt back over his head.
"Stay the night." I blurt out in a whisper.
"Harry, you know I can't. I-"
"I know. You want to keep things simple between us. But I'm just doing this as a friend. It's almost two in the morning, and God knows you wouldn't want a lift back home from me, and there's no train service at this time at night either. Just stay, you can sleep in the guest bedroom." I tell him and he releases a small sigh, turning to look at me.
His eyes search my entire face and I can literally see the gears shifting and turning in his head. His features soften, and I release a breath I didn't even know I was holding.
"Okay." He whispers out. "Thank you." I nod, before pushing myself out of bed and gesturing for him to follow me. He nods, picking up his clothes.
"I suppose you wouldn't want to borrow a change of clothes from me as well, right? It's what people in relationships do, innit?" I throw a smirk over my shoulder as I lead him out of my room.
He chuckles softly, not saying anything after.
I lead him down the hall and back downstairs. I push open a door just further off from my kitchen, stepping aside to let him into the room.
"Wow, even your guest bedroom is bigger than my entire kitchen." He comments under his breath and I release a soft chuckle.
"Just make yourself at home. Use the bathroom if you need. A spare toothbrush is in the cabinet behind the mirror and towels are below the sink." I tell him and he nods, before gazing over to me again.
"Does this usually work for you?" He raises an eyebrow.
"What does?" I question, leaning against the door frame.
"Having sex with someone and then charming them to stay. Does that usually work?" His eyes trail up my figure with a small smirk on his lips. I chuckle softly, shrugging lightly.
"50-50 chance." I can't help the small smirk on my lips as he searches my face, before he chuckles softly. Then, there's a silence between us. Somewhere between awkward and comfortable. I would walk away and just tell him goodnight, but somehow my feet are glued down to the ground.
"I don't hate relationships, you know." He suddenly says after a while of silence between us. He looks down at the floor, brings his bottom lip between his teeth (which is something I realise he does quite often), before gazing back up at me.
"It's just– it's too much trouble." He tells me, as his eyes once again, acts as if it's trying to read right into my soul.
"Maybe you just haven't found the right person." I mumble. He raises his eyebrows once.
"Yeah, well," he shrugs. "Right person or not, it's just too much trouble."
"If the person is right, all that trouble is worth it." I counter in a whisper and his body freezes, his eyes gazing over my expression.
"Was that how you felt with Louis?" He asks and I release a soft laugh.
"It was." I admit with a small smile. "I really thought he was the one. We were so madly in love. I would have done anything for him."
"What changed?" He asks softly and I shrug.
"I started getting busier, he was getting busier as well. And he somehow just lost his trust in me. And our love just.. faded." I answer vaguely.
"Isn't it scary? How you thought you loved someone so much and then just like that the love you had just disappeared?" He questions with raised eyebrows.
"Yeah.." I sigh out. "It's a fucking scary thing, for your heart to be crushed by someone you love." I admit. "But, now that I know what I had with Louis wasn't real, I now know what not to look for in others."
He purses his lip as we eye each other. Questions are buzzing about in my head. Like, why doesn't he like being in a relationship in the first place? Did he have a bad case of one? Bad breakup? Well, no one can beat Louis and I's toxic as hell relationship, that's for sure.
"You better get some rest." I say after awhile of silence between us, shooting him a small smile, with him returning one.
"Goodnight, Niall."
"Night Harry."
•••
I'm startled awake as I hear my alarm ringing obnoxiously from somewhere around me. I huff out a breath, before blindly trying to find my phone.
I finally do, before sliding my thumb across the screen to shut that pain in the arse off.
That's when I realise how much my back and neck hurts, I push myself up, realising that I fell asleep on my desk in my study room.
I groan as I hear the satisfying cracking of bones in my back, tilting my head left to right as I loosen up my stiff muscles.
I push my messy hair out of my face, looking through my work, and fortunately, I've finished. I was just too darn lazy to make it back into my room.
I stand, stretching my muscles before I'm tidying up my area, packing up all the reports and sketches before I'm bringing the entire stack of papers downstairs together with me and stuffing it in my bag.
I glance over to the clock, noticing that it's already quarter to seven. I quickly make my way over to my kitchen, cooking up some breakfast for Niall and I. Maybe I should hire a part time domestic helper, that way, it saves me all the trouble of cooking myself.
I eat my share in silence, while replying to some emails on my phone.
Once it has reached 8, I make my way over to the room that Niall slept in only to see it completely...empty. Which, honestly caught me off guard.
The only thing I was met with were the dark blue walls and a completely made queen size bed. None of his clothes are around, it's like he was never here in the first place. But I know he was, because the bed wasn't made perfectly, like how I would do it— duvet tucked under the pillows. But now, the duvet isn't even tucked under. But that's not the point. Where the hell is he?
I glance around the room once over, just to make sure my eyes aren't playing tricks on me. They aren't. My eyebrows knit in confusion, before I'm making my way out of the room, and towards the guest bathroom, to see the door is fully ajar, and completely vacant.
Maybe he already left for work.
•
I groan, leaning back onto my swivel chair as tiredness takes over my body. It's already almost five in the evening, and I've barely stopped for a break.
All day long I've been sitting at this desk, running through ideas, what feels like a million sketches, and paper work has been piling higher and higher. So much for save the trees, huh?
The clock ticks on the wall and I swear it's slowing down. Sitting here alone makes me flatter than a deflated balloon. Every time I don't have to think about the task at hand, I'm thinking of Niall. Niall and his lips on mine, his laugh, his smile, his touch. Oh God, his touch drives me fucking nuts.
And then there's the mystery behind him.
'Please don't call me anymore.' Was the reply I got from Niall when I messaged where he went to this morning.
I find myself reaching towards my phone in annoyance, opening up Niall and I's conversation, my eyes glancing over our messages.
'Hey. Where'd you leave so early this morning?'
'Please don't call me anymore.'
'What do you mean? Why not?'
'I told you, Harry. I need things to be kept simple between us.'
"They are, aren't they?'
And he hasn't replied me since.
"Don't call me anymore?" What the hell? Why the hell not? Things between us are still kept 'simple' ain't it? It's not like we're in a relationship or like I have feelings for him. Right? Yeah. Nothing but attraction and lust.
"Harry." Zayn suddenly barges into my office, I stare at Zayn for awhile with a raised eyebrow, noticing how his face is crumpled with anxiousness. I sit up straighter in my seat, knowing there's probably something important bothering him seeing that Zayn usually knows to call me by my salutation in studio bounds.
"You alright?" I ask as he strides over to my desk.
"I need to leave." He mutters out. I raise an eyebrow.
"Leave? What do you mean leave?" I ask.
"Like just for the day. I've got something I need to take care of." He tells me, his eyes barely refusing to meet mine.
"Can you tell me what it is? I need to know if it's a legible reason. If not, I'm sorry Zayn, but I can't let you off. It's AWOL." He sighs, running a hand through his hair frustratedly, looking distraught.
"I.. I can't tell you, Harry. But, please. It's an emergency. I'll just be missing like four hours." He tries to plead.
"Did someone in your family pass?"
"No, but-"
"In the hospital?"
"No-"
"Family-"
"It's Niall, alright?!" He snaps, before releasing a long puff of air. "It's Niall." He repeats, lower.
"Please, Harry. I can't tell you what's happening. I wasn't even supposed to tell you that it was Niall." Zayn breathes out.
"Why not? Zayn, I'm your boss and I'm your friend. I just would like to know why you're running out of my studio halfway through work." I say firmly, standing from my spot.
He bites on his bottom lip in contemplation, his eyes searching my face before he's silently shaking his head.
"Listen, Harry. I know you and Niall are.. you know. But I just can't say. I'm sorry. I promise to make it up to you." He says. And before I could even refute, he's abruptly spinning on his heel and taking off.
"Zayn!" I call out after him, but he's already out the door, leaving me alone in my big office with my raging, confused thoughts.
---
Things are finally picking up :) what do you think is up with Niall?