warning:smut - handjob, anal play (male recieving), edging
word count: 1800+
summary:Edging Harry has never felt so good ( sub!harry / slight switch!harry)
authors note: this was requested a very long time ago and I haven’t written anything like it before so pls be nice. In saying that though, what more is there to love than sub!harry begging? Enjoy ;) x
Harry’s whimpers echoed around the room as your lips pressed against the column of his neck. While you knew exactly where his sweet spot was, you couldn’t help but want to tease him… a little payback if you will.
Harry was a teasing motherfucker and you took every opportunity to tease him back.
“Mmh, you doing okay baby?” You cooed, your hand wrapped loosely around his leaking cock, giving him just enough pressure to make him go crazy.
You laid beside him, your leg hooked around his so his legs were wide on the bed and your wet core pressed against his outer thigh. At any moment you could stop touching him and decide to ride his thigh instead, which you had… multiple times.
This drove Harry mad, just the feeling of your wet cunt against his skin made him want to grab you and pin you to the bed so he could have his way with you. Then when you stopped touching him and made yourself cum on his thigh? He wanted to spank your ass raw.
But the constant cycle of edging and teasing was getting to his head and all he could think about was orgasming and getting rid of the tight ache in his balls. He’d do anything in that moment just for you to make him cum.
You had used the same consistent pressure for the last 20 minutes, brushing your thumb over his weeping head and giving a tight squeeze every now and then. Harry had been reduced to a blubbering mess, his balls aching so hard it hurt and he honestly didn’t know if he could take anymore edging.
“Please baby, I-I can’t take it. N-need more” Harry whined, his hips bucking to create more friction.
You smirked against his neck and nipped right at the spot above his collar bone, causing a shallow moan to leave his lips. “Aww poor baby wants to come hmm?”
“Y-YES” his voice jumped in volume when you suddenly tugged his cock roughly and pressed your thumb to his slit.
“I’ll let you cum, but I wanna have a little fun first” you lifted your head from his neck to look at him and couldn’t help but smile at how flushed his face was, his forehead slick with sweat.
He looked at you with desperation, his hand grabbing onto your hip tight as you tugged right under his mushroom head.
“F-fun? You’re not having fun already?” He puffed, slightly frustrated at how much you were enjoying his suffering. You didn’t bother replying and let go of his cock to grip his jaw and manoeuvre so you were hovering over him.
“Hands and knees H” you demanded, licking the pre-cum that had transferred to his face off his jaw before you let go of him and rolled so you were sitting beside him.
He moaned at your words and flipped so he was on his knees, resting on his forearms with his head dipped to the bed. His thighs shook as he got in position, and the slight humiliation he felt from being so exposed only made him ache more.
The two of you had experimented in ass play… both ways before and fucking hell did he love it. Orgasms never felt better than with your nimble fingers pressed to his g-spot or your tongue on his rim.
“Such a good boy Harry” you cooed, running a teasing hand down the middle of his back to his cheeks as you got in position behind him.
He let out a breathy moan as you spread his cheeks and spat directly onto his clenching hole. You used a finger to rub the saliva around his rim, then down along his taint. His hips rutted against you, trying to follow the touch of your finger but before he could get too far you abruptly spanked his right cheek.
“Fuck” he cursed, feeling his cock twitch at the pain.
“Be good, otherwise you won’t cum at all” you warned, a drawl in your voice as you soothed the place you just hit him.
You went right to work, spreading his cheeks again and licking a stripe from his balls up to his rim, taking your time to add pressure right on his taint. Harry released a deep moan when you pressed there, hands clutching the duvet as he panted.
Keeping one hand to spread his cheeks, the other reached around his hip and tugged on his cock. You wiggled your tongue against his rim, pushing it just past the tight rim of muscles before coming out again and flicking against it.
“Fuck baby, feels so-feels so….” Harry was incoherent and you were loving the effect your touch had on him. You were dripping down your thighs just at the sounds he was making.
“Yeah? Doing a good job?” You asked, digging your nails a little deeper into his cheek as you lapped at his rim and continued to jerk him off in slow strokes.
“B-best job, you’re so so good” he mumbled, desperately trying not to cum since you hadn’t told him he could. And he really didn’t want you to edge him another time.
“Want my fingers pretty boy?” You spread his cheeks with both hands again and let a trail of spit dribble onto his rim, watching as it slid down to his balls.
“Y-yes! Please, want them so bad” he gasped, rutting his hips back as the cool air hitting your saliva sent a chill through him.
“How about, you cum now… or you can have my fingers and cum later?” You hummed, running the tip of your nail through the trail of saliva, moving back and forth along his taint.
“That’s not fair” he whined, nearly crying at the two options being separate from each other. He wanted both… although he would’ve taken anything that made him cum right now.
You leaned over him and grabbed a thick fist of hair, pulling his head back so you could see his face. “Don’t be greedy, you wanna know what happens to greedy boys?” You whispered harshly in his ear.
Harry whined at the tightness of his scalp and flicked his eyes to where your face was pressed against his. “W-what?”
“I get to cum and you don’t, and you get to watch me while it happens”
The thought alone made Harry shudder and that’s ignoring the fact that your bare, naked body was pressed against his hot back. He could feel your pebbled nipples on his skin and he knew that he wouldn’t even last if you made yourself cum in front of him.
“F-fingers” he stuttered, not being able to say anything else.
“Good choice pretty boy” you praised, releasing his hair and settling back on your knees so your legs were folded beneath you.
With your saliva still glistening on Harry’s skin, you spat on your own fingers for more lubrication before bringing them back up to his clenching hole. You gripped his cheek with your other hand then slowly pushed your finger into him.
Harry let out a groan at the sensation, clenching around your finger in reflex. “Relax baby” you cooed, pressing a kiss to his heated cheek as you pumped your finger in and out at a decent pace.
“Fuckkkk” Harry moaned, unable to hold himself on his forearms anymore. His cheek pressed against the bed and his hands clutched the duvet as you inserted another finger without warning, this time in hard thrusts that had Harry shaking.
The twinge of pain he felt as your fingers stretched him open only added to his pleasure and he was already so on edge that he could feel his balls screaming to release.
“Please lemme cum. Please” he mumbled, unable to stop his thighs from shaking. But he wanted to be good for you, all he wanted was your praise and that wouldn’t happen if he came without permission.
“Already need to cum? Can’t last too long can you H” you degraded, increasing the speed and strength of your two fingers. Then you slipped a third finger in easily, the intrusion causing Harry to let out a small cry.
He was becoming overstimulated quickly, way too quickly that he was in pain from holding onto his release so long. God, and your degrading words only tipped him closer to the edge.
The sound of his whines were making you drip, your thighs were slick from your arousal and you couldn’t take much more before you had to cum. Poor Harry had been on edge for a lot longer than you… yet you only got more turned on at how much he was begging to cum.
“You whine so cute baby, got me so wet for you, can feel it down my thighs” you said gently, pressing kisses to his skin between each word.
Harry moaned at your words, squeezing his eyes shut and fisting his hands in the duvet to try and subside the aching and twisting in his stomach.
“Please! Please baby, need to cum. I-I can’t hold it” Harry begged once again, tears falling from his eyes at the uncomfortable feeling.
“Go on H, cum for me” you slowed your fingers and wrapped your hand around his cock, gently stroking as he finally came.
Harry released with a loud cry, thick ribbons flying out of him in such force his knees wobbled beneath him. The feeling was indescribable, the tight ache in his balls suddenly lifting and becoming euphoric. It felt like his orgasm went on forever, his cum forming a puddle on the bed.
With your soft words of encouragement and the very light touch of your hand on his cock, he was in pure heaven. His mind was hazy and he felt frozen in his position, even as his orgasm stopped and your fingers disappeared from him.
He felt you move beside him and pull him onto his side so he laid beside the pool of cum on the bed. You pulled him to your chest and ran your hand through his air, knowing just how tired and overstimulated he must’ve felt.
You were the exact same way when roles were reversed.
“You did so good for me baby, I’m so proud of you. I love you so much” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his sweaty forehead as he held onto you tight. His breathing was already heavy and you knew he’d fall asleep soon.
“I love you more” he whispered. You smiled to yourself and closed your eyes, ignoring the wetness between your legs and the ache in your clit. He’d take care of you tomorrow.
That thought flew out your mind when you felt his fingers creep down your stomach towards your mound. “Harry you don’t-”
You couldn’t even finish your sentence because before you knew Harry suddenly had a burst of energy and was nestled between your legs, his mouth curled up in a smirk as his hot breath fanned over you.
i’m gonna start posting a chapter fic that i’ve been working on! so if you’re in the mood for some average writing, here’s a sneak peek/prologue <3
It’s called Wait for Me, and it’s an epic love story. Cue the tragic, lovesick tortured soul aesthetic because this takes place in 1940’s America. Just two kids just trying to figure out the world and move on from their pasts.
Harry is a fresh twenty-year-old who has no clue what he’s going to do with his life, besides having just joined the army. He’s young and dumb, but oh, so adorably charming. Bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to see what the world has to offer him.
Julianna is a young teacher who, a year ago, had her whole future set in stone for her. She was engaged to her high school sweetheart with plans to marry, have children, the works. She thought she had her whole future planned, until her entire world was crushed within a matter of minutes.
Turns out, someone who has loved you for nine years can just wake up one day, say “I don’t love you anymore.” and move on like you never existed. After months of grieving she finally and reluctantly agrees to go out with her friends to the county fair, while Harry is there with his buddies as well, of course.
They meet that night, and everything changes. There was an instant connection, one that was so easily magical, and at first felt impossible.
After thinking that her entire future was ruined with no hope in sight, this green-eyed boy comes along and turns her world upside down; leaving her speechless at every turn and they fall hard for each other, so much it’s almost sickening.
So, they totally fall in love and live happily ever after, right? Not when World War Two is ravaging nations across the world and when Japan attacks America, and Harry has to go.
No warning, no clue where he’s going, or when he’ll be back.
A/N: Apologies for the wait! Here’s the new Deep End chapter :) Also I wanna share some good news that I submitted a different version of Deep End for my final submission of my Creative Writing MA and I got the highest grade in my class! Thank you for supporting this series and these characters. It means a lot to me.
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.
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When she made it all the way down the steps, she found Koa waiting for her by the front gate. A taxi was waiting for them. Ezili wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket and eyed her sister up and down. Koa was wearing a bright orange dress that looked too big for her. How was she not freezing?
“Did you–”
“No, I didn’t kill anyone for this.” Koa rolled her eyes. “I bought it with the paper notes I stole from that lady sitting by the station.”
“You stole money from a homeless person?!”
Koa shrugged. “It’s just paper. It’s everywhere.”
Ezili rolled her eyes and grabbed her sister’s elbow. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“Ezili, wait!”
“Oh, God,” Ezili groaned. She knew whom that voice belonged to without turning around.
“Wait, that’s your other human boy,” Koa exclaimed. Ezili put her hand on Koa’s head and shoved her into the back of the taxi. Dawson rushed down the steps of the mansion and strode towards them.
“Where are you ladies going?” asked the taxi driver.
Ezili asked him to give them a few minutes, then grabbed Dawson’s arms as soon as he came close. “Dawson, you need to go back inside.”
“Ezili, what happened?” Dawson asked, panting. Then he saw Koa, and his eyes widened. “Dolores?”
Koa waved at him, a wicked grin on her face. Ezili tugged at his arms to turn his attention back on her. “She’s not Dolores. She’s my sister.”
“What?” He looked at her as if he believed she was telling a joke.
“You need to go back inside. I’m so sorry I cannot explain everything to you.” She tried to spin him around, yet he refused to follow.
“Ezili, what’s going on?” His eyes shifted back and forth between her and Koa. “Did Harry do something?”
“No.” Ezili sighed. She wished she could tell Dawson everything, but when she closed her eyes, she could see Harry’s disgusted expression back in that room. She didn’t want Dawson to look at her that way, too. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”
“Go where?”
“Hurry. Mother’s waiting,” Koa hissed.
Ezili threw her arms around Dawson’s neck and felt his body go rigid as she hugged him. She kissed his cheek, probably the first and last one she could ever give him, then quickly got into the taxi and shut the door.
“Wait!” Dawson tapped frantically on the window, but she refused to look at him.
“To the giant bridge with lots of lights,” Koa told the driver, who seemed confused.
“You mean the Tower Bridge?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Yeah, that! I think…”
“Oh, are you girls tourists.”
“Just drive, you–”
Ezili slapped a hand over Koa’s face and faked a smile at the surprised man. “Yeah, it’s the Tower Bridge.”
The driver nodded, probably thinking Koa was drunk so he didn’t ask further questions and started the engine. Ezili didn’t look out the window when the taxi headed towards the gate, leaving the mansion. However, she imagined Dawson watching her go with pain in his eyes, and Harry, somewhere inside, probably still sitting in that chair, was relieved that she was finally gone.
A/N:If you’d like to become a patron and gain early access to fics and have exclusive content for patrons only, the link can be found in my bio or masterlist!
WC:2,654
Harry doesn’t wake her when they stop midway to get fuel. She wakes hours after he sleeps beside her, but she doesn’t wake him. Instead, she observes him for a little while; acknowledges the twitch in the corner of his lip, the little movement behind his eyelids, the gentle snores that tumble through his throat.
She appreciates his dark lashes fanned across his cheekbones, his ungodly waves. This version of him doesn’t look scary, doesn’t look monstrous. This version of Harry looks approachable, soft… dare she think… vulnerable. His jaw isn’t set and his lips aren’t pursed.
She wants to reach forward and caress his cheek, maybe one day she might.
or
Harry takes Y/N to her new life where she’s no longer a prisoner.
//
READ NOW ON PATREON ONLY! (link in bio or masterlist!)
A/N: If you’d like to become a patron and gain early access to fics and have exclusive content for patrons only, the link can be found in my bio or masterlist!
WC:7,091
He reaches a hand against her face again and caresses her warm cheek. She flushes under his touch but doesn’t flinch away.
“Are you scared of me?” He asks.
Y/N gulps and lets out a shaky breath. “You’re a Made Man. You kill and you torture. Of course, I’m afraid of you,” she breathes and it’s the first proper sentence she’s directly said to him… that she’s afraid.
Harry remains quiet, letting himself revel in the sound of her voice. Silky soft, just like her skin and hair.
He dips his face down so he’s level with her. Even with her four-inch heels, he still towers above her, Y/N’s eyes level with his clavicle.
“I kill and torture those who deserve it, those who betray me,” he tells her. “But you are going to be my wife, Y/N. And fear has no place in a marriage.”
or
Y/N’s eighteenth is turned into an engagement party for her arranged marriage.
//
READ NOW ON PATREON ONLY! (link in bio or masterlist!)
“Then how come since the moment I’ve met you, you’ve kept this hard front about you. Yet…” he tapped his chin in fake-thought, “the moment I come anywhere near you, your palms sweat. Your heart rate rises. Your eyes dart around the room for something, anything to look at that’s not me?”
“You don’t fool me, Brin. You’re even nervous right now.”
Description: In this apocalyptic world, you can’t go out at night due to Crawlers that lurk in the shadows. But 23 year old Brinley has to set off to get supplies for her younger sister and sick mother. She has everything planned out and knows to stick to what her mother has told her. But what happens when not everything goes to plan? No one warned her about bumping into a snarky, arrogant man who ends up saving her life. So what happens when this forces them into a bond that neither of them asked for? It’s purely for survival, right? At least that’s what they keep telling themselves.
Content warning: mentions of graphic scenes, blood, guns, death/violence
General tags: slow burn, angst, apocalypse, dystopia, smut
— In this dystopian world, Brinley sets off to get supplies for her sick mother and younger sister. She bumps into a snarky, arrogant man who saves her life and somehow this forces them into a bond that neither of them asked for and is purely for survival. At least that’s what they keep telling each other.
Tags and General Warnings: graphic depictions of scenes, slow burn, smut, angst, apocalyptic/dystopian AU *Will update warnings list as needed*
TLDR; In this dystopian world, Brinley sets off to get supplies for her sick mother and younger sister. She bumps into a snarky, arrogant man who saves her life and somehow this forces them into a bond that neither of them asked for and is purely for survival. At least that’s what they keep telling each other.
Tags and General Warnings: graphic depictions of scenes, slow burn, smut, angst, apocalyptic/dystopian AU
*Will update warnings list as needed*
INTRODUCTION:
I wish I could say I woke up gracefully, to the sound of birds chirping their morning songs. Perhaps I could have also woken up to the light breeze of air, tickling the ever-changing leaves in a soft song of their own. Maybe my first inhale of the new-day air could have been filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee with sweet maple undertones.
Unfortunately, this was not one of those mornings. I actually can’t remember the last time I ever experienced a morning so delicate and full of potential.
The reality of the situation is a lot less peaceful and a lot more desperate. You see, ten years ago could have given me a morning like that, but now it just feels like a far away dream. Instead of bedtime stories I originally got to grow up with, I hear the same stories my mom tells me regarding the dangers that lurk outside our home and into the city.
Not that it’s completely safe outside of city limits either, because trust me I hear plenty of those stories too. I vaguely remember bits and pieces of a few run-ins my family had to deal with to get where we are now. It’s just that the city is somewhere to never go if you can help it. Home is safe. Home is secure. Mom has made sure of it.
There are other rules that have been drilled into Alayna and I’s head. Whenever the government does their checkpoint drop-offs every 3 months, only mom is supposed to go. I have to stay back and watch after Alayna. She’s 12 now, so this is pretty much all she’s known. At times I think she’s braver than me because of it. Because she doesn’t have to think about what she’s missed out on or what she will continue to miss out on like I have.
These drop-offs are important because they contain necessary means of survival: food, water, gasoline, and medical supplies. When these government assisted drops first started, people went crazy. Mom gets really sensitive about these stories because of the things she saw. I still don’t even know the full gravity of what they were like.
It probably explains why she’s so hesitant to let me go to this month’s drop-off. That’s how I know she’s desperate; she’s getting weaker as each day passes.
This is also the first drop-off since a rather brutal winter. Technically it was a little over a week ago, but we got snowed in. We’re running out of pretty much everything because of that delay. I had to convince her repeatedly to let me go. She wanted us to eat her share of food for the time being so then maybe by then she’d be healthier and more able to go.
Except the food was already running thin and it was getting too risky. She’s still really reluctant, but it’s what we have to do. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous though.
Brinley has known this way of life since she was 10 years old. Now being 23, it feels like she knows everything and nothing at the same time. Her mother and little sister, Alayna, live in the outskirts of the city, in a home that’s been their refuge from dangers that live outside their walls - particularly once night falls.
Every 3 months there’s a drop off of supplies, which their mom normally takes care of. This time she’s sick, so now it’s Brinley’s turn to take charge. But what happens when things don’t go according to plan? When she meets a certain curly-haired stranger? Her mom never warned her about this. Why does he make her feel terrified but safe at the same time? Who is he?
Well, only one way to find out.
———
General warnings: graphic depictions of scenes, slow burn, smut, angst, apocalyptic/dystopian AU
Here’s the chappie where you get a look beyond the Mediterranean fortress Harry calls home… ;)
Timing is sometimes too perfect to be the pure product of coincidence.
Everything is connected: the earth and the seas, the moon, and all the sky’s stars.
Our bodies are made of these, fragments of their nature, tying us to this world.
Aunt Lara used to tell me that we are a part of the cosmos, the cosmos pushing and pulling people into paths they’re supposed to be on. She’d smoke her cigarette on our porch with the full moon hanging high in the sky that she’d soon be flying through, and I’d nod, thinking I was so cool just for being around her. It was our time then, just the two of us, sometime after my parents had gone asleep and I’d sneak past their room to meet her outside. She never told my parents I was staying up late on a school night. She’d take another drag, extending one to me, knowing I wouldn’t take it.
“I’ve seen seven year olds with these things,” she’d mutter, laughing to herself, and when she’d look out, I imagined she was envisioning the Roman Cafe she’d frequent beside the famed Colosseum. A hot sun, and balmy breeze, warm like the foreign friends she’d meet, or the lukewarm seas lapping around her ankles. “So much warmer and clearer than anything you’ve ever felt here. The most miraculous shades of blue…” She’d smoke, she’d smile. I’d admire.
YALL I love you so much!! thanks for 2k and for continuing to send me things (I read them and feel inspired I promise) i’m just not very good at work/life balance and focusing on things I like when i’m not depressed with something to procrastinate on (and that’s on finally graduating )
and on that note!!! TIME TO CELEBRATE!!!
my asks are completely open to your minds and wants!! whoever (within limits so pls ask) and whatever (again within limits) for until y’all get tired of me!! though please be aware that I do work two jobs and play around in disney world on the reg so i’m not the speediest in response!
you get into a car accident when harry’s in the middle of a concert.
You had just gotten off the phone with Harry thirty minutes ago. You had called him in a panic, explaining how you had less than ten minutes to get from one side of the city to the other for an extremely important job interview.
Harry had reassured you in that deep, soothing voice of his that you were going to be fine. That everything was going to be fine. And you believed him. Hell, nobody–not even a psychic–could’ve predicted the events that would transpire.
Your boyfriend of 2 years was currently in Manchester for four nights. You two had last seen each other in person about a few weeks back when you surprised him in London.
“I missed you so much,” Harry had murmured against your lips, “and I still miss you now, because after a few days you’re just going to turn around and leave me again.”
“I’m never going to leave you. I promise.”
It was in the middle of Woman when it happened. That is–Harry’s phone ringing backstage. It was on silent, and it was locked up in his dressing room.
hello! so these are my top 10 larry fics, in order. (my personal definition of top fic is the story that i like to re read thousand times and never feel tired nor bored of it (+has an interesting plot)) I’ve been keeping this kind of message for so long, I actually forgot to answer. I’m sorry . so here they are:
At the age of twenty, Harry deals with things expected to occur at his age: student loans, instant meals, electricity bills, and the constant, incessant presence of never ending coursework.
That, and the job of raising his six year old daughter and avoiding the charm of a young, successful, and very off-limits Louis Tomlinson.
“We invited our new acquaintances from uptown. You’ve simply got to meet their oldest son!” said his mother with a flourish, and suddenly it became abundantly clear as to why his parents had so adamantly demanded he join them in Deansville for the entirety of the summer.
Against his wishes, Harry spends the holidays at his family’s summer estate, and is reluctantly pulled into a courtship he didn’t ask for. Harry doesn’t want to get married, but Louis does. They don’t fit, but then again they really, really do.
Vaguely set in the 1920’s. Headpieces, jazz, fashionable canes, and flapper dresses, and that.
five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn’t have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.
now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he’s rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he’s forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who’s spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.
(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)
Louis goes to bed having ordered a nineteen year-old husband.
Louis is set to inherit the family farm after the death of his father, but after finding out that he needs to be married in order to do so, purchasing a nineteen year-old, mail-order husband named Harry Styles seems to be the easiest answer.
Louis is an angel who is just a little too bad to be good, Harry is a demon who is just a little too good to be bad, and they’re both a little too in love to be impartial when angels and demons go to war.
Louis has been alive since life was a mere concept; he watched the summoning of Man into existence, he was there when Eve took the apple. He’s seen seas break the world into separate pieces, he’s watched empires crumble into dust. He’s seen wildfire consume cities, he’s seen the world painted white with snow. He has known the most beautiful humans to walk the planet, he has watched the most powerful mortals gather their riches and influence around them and then die just like the poorest, weakest humans do. He’s met humans whose motives defy explanation, people who use their lives as battering rams, as tools, as weapons, as chess pieces.
It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.
Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.
Harry watches Louis as he scrunches up his nose and bites the end of a pen in concentration. He’s been working on seating arrangements for the past hour and getting more frustrated by the minute. Louis huffs out a breath and glances down at Harry with a soft smile on his lips before he returns to the task at hand. It’s easy, right then, for Harry to let himself believe that they’re planning a seating chart for their own wedding and bickering over who is going to sit where from a list of their own family members. He can let himself daydream about a white picket fence and a dog that they could have within the next year.
It’s like a cold slap in the face when Harry looks to the top of the page to see “Aiden and Louis Grimshaw” at the head table, and Harry has to mentally remind himself for the thousandth time that Louis is not his. Never was, really. He’s just the wedding planner that’s been in love with Louis since he was sixteen.
Louis W. Tomlinson is the 23 year old son of a multi-billionaire, Simon Cowell, and working at his father’s company. Harry Styles is an 18 year old who just graduated high school and is taking a year off before going to college. Harry’s stepfather works for Louis’ father and they meet at an album release party that Robin request Harry attend with him. Louis is entranced by Harry and Harry is taken aback that the gorgeous Louis is interested in him. Harry has no idea what he’s getting himself into though. In a world of money, contracts, and jealousy… can a relationship ever really work? Or was it doomed from the start?
“Alright, alright. No need to bite,” Harry says, holding his hands above his head in a general gesture of surrender.
Louis quirks an eyebrow and his foot nudges Harry’s as he moves to sit straight. “If that’s what you think biting is, you’ve got another thing coming, Styles.”
Harry blinks at him before he feels his face flush and inside the marrows of his bones there’s pulses of heat, pulses of fire spreading through him. “Is that a threat, your Highness?”
“That’s a promise,” Louis answers just as the car halts to a stop. “One I intend to keep.”
Harry is a journalist with a lot of secrets and Louis is the future king of the United Kingdom; they live together for 60 days.
(or the one where Louis and Harry have a complicated past, Louis is getting married to someone that’s not Harry, and the universe has decided to have a laugh and make Harry the wedding planner.)
Harry woke up to the sound of his phone buzzing around 6am. He reached for it quickly, pressed it to his ear as he squinted his eyes to adjust to the light that poked through his curtains.
His own house, which he decided was his second favorite place to wake up in Los Angeles now that he’d experienced rolling over to see Y/N with her eyelashes fluttering against a pillow. He was sure that would be burned into his memory for a long time to come.
Now though, a week after he kissed her in the kitchen and again in the living room and again in her bedroom, his heartbeat rose when he answered the phone.
“‘Lo?”
“Hi, sorry to wake you up–it’s Y/N.”
“Are you alright? What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine–how do you pick up so quickly, anyway?”
“You’re in my favorites,” he said, a hoarseness in his voice when he adjusted in bed. “Rings super loud even if my phone’s on do not disturb.”
Maybe that was a bold confession. Harry blamed the half-asleep state and tried to focus on the words she said.
“Listen, I accidentally told Glenne and Lexi and Heidi yesterday that it’s a girl.”
“Oh–okay.”
“You’re not mad?”
He cleared his throat. This didn’t exactly seem like something worthy of a 6am phone call, but the sound of her voice sent a warmth through Harry that erased any resentment. “No, I mean–I know we didn’t say when we were going to tell people, but, s’exciting. Were they excited?”
“Super,” he could hear the smile on her face, the comfort in her voice. “We looked at cute clothes.”
This woke him up. “You went clothes shopping without me?”
“No,” she laughed at his tone. “We just looked. But we can go together soon, if you want.”
He let his head fall back to the pillow. He wasn’t about to say it, but he would do anything she asked at this point. “Mmmm, I dowant.”
“Okay, well, go back to sleep,” she said, voice quiet in the early morning hours.
“Okay,” he said. “You too.”
She hung up, Harry stared at the ceiling and made a mental note: wake up at Y/N’s more.
But week fifteen was quiet. Harry listened over and over to the songs that he’d already finished for the album, desperately trying to decide what was missing and what it needed. Y/N was busy at work and somehow, Harry had managed to convince her to have her mother down so their families could meet.
Mimosas and brunch at Harry’s? Glenne was thrilled and even Jeff had relented, okay, you’re right, it’s a good idea.
So now Gemma sat on the couch and his mother paced nervously near the foyer.
“I see their car!” Anne said, a bounce of excitement when she peered out the window. A cloudy summer day in Los Angeles, Gemma had complained all morning about how the weather herewas supposed to be betterthan London.
“Don’t freak them out, mum–”
“Please don’t be weird” Harry laughed, his own anxiety crested when he came to stand beside her. Sure as shit: Y/N, Lexi, and Y/N’s mother stepped out of the car, Gemma came to stand behind Anne and even Glenne seemed intrigued from the kitchen.
Jeff, who already had a mimosa in hand, laughed at the excitement in the room, though Harry wondered if he was just putting on an act.
“Alright,” Harry turned to see his family, a hand on the doorknob before he tugged it open. “Act normal. Cool, natural, yeah?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Anne waved, a toothy grin when Harry finally let them in.
Y/N was nervous, either Harry had gotten better at reading her or the anxiety was written on her face clear as day. Probably both, he decided, when he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.
She swatted him away quickly and Lexi laughed. Y/N’s mother smiled at Harry and offered a hand.
“So nice to finally meet you,” Harry greeted, a rumble of nerves in his stomach when he wondered: should I have hugged her?
“Thanks for having us,” Y/N’s mom replied, a serving dish in her hands. “I made these–they’re lemon!”
“I love a good lemon pastry!” he smiled at her, stepped aside and shot Y/N a wink when he revealed the crowd standing behind him. Anne and Gemma had taken a few steps back, almost like now they realized they actually didneed to play it cool. Harry saw his mom’s eyes sweep Y/N’s figure, now obviously pregnant.
“Y/N,” he motioned to his family. “This is my mum, Anne, and my sister, Gemma.”
“Hi–nice to finally meet you in person,” she smiled nervously.
Anne’s arms opened instinctually, a smile on her face when she pulled Y/N closer. “Lovely to meet you, we’re so glad you could all come.”
“We wouldn’t miss it,” Y/N’s mom smiled behind her, Lexi took the pastries into the kitchen, the moms hugged when Y/N moved on to Harry’s sister.
Harry watched the exchange for a second, his sister opened her arms and Y/N joked about her nausea, it’s been easing up the last two weeks.
“I’m definitely having sympathy nausea,” Lexi laughed, stepping aside before Harry pointed around at the entire group and did a rundown of names. He brought them all towards the kitchen, Glenne pointed out all the food she’d made and Jeff pointed out the things she’d gotten catered.
A breakfast casserole, mini quiches, small bacon finger sandwiches. Harry slid the pastries right next to the sliced banana bread that Glenne promised she made from scratch.
“Most importantly,” Lexi picked up a bottle of champagne that Harry had opened before their arrival. He reached for orange juice in the fridge, turned around and passed it to Glenne who was waiting with an eager smile.
When she poured a drink for Y/N’s mother, Harry could sense the tension had broken a bit. Maybe it was the way Y/N’s shoulders appeared to relax, or maybe it was simply that a glass of champagne with a splash of juice was a peace offering like no other.
He looked over at her, the corner of his mouth pulled up without thought and hers did too. He was only tugged out of the moment when he heard his mother’s voice.
“Wait–he’s not drinking?” Anne asked, happily accepting a glass passed down the line from Glenne.
“You say that like it’ll be impossible,” Harry shot her a look. Did she really have that little faith in her son?
“S’a big undertaking, no?” She let her eyebrows rise, shot a smile in his direction before looking to Y/N. “A bit harder for you, right?”
She let out a dramatic sigh, “I’ve never wanted a mimosa so bad.”
“We have mom-osas,” Glenne said with a playful grin, jiggling the container of juice around as if Y/N would fall for it.
“That sounds mediocre at best,” Y/N rolled her eyes, pulling a laugh from all of them–even Jeff.
Glenne was more than happy to accept the compliments about her cooking, gushing on and on about how helpful Jeff had been to make sure she could bring everything here and still keep it warm.
Harry wasn’t shy about reminding her that he’d been just as instrumental to their brunch debut: he had the oven preheated and serving platters ready. He supplied the champagne and paid for extra catering.
Gemma was quick to nudge him: get over yourself!
He sat next to Y/N at the dining table and let the encouragement from his family pull the excitement out of him: we’ve got another doctor’s appointment next week, we’ve got to start doing some shopping for clothes. We can’t wait to meet her.
The morning went well enough, funny stories were exchanged and there was already a lot of talk about baby showers and birth plans and Harry wished for a moment that he could have a second alone with her.
He’d been reeling since he spent the night at her place–what did it mean, why did he like it so much? Was she just as confused or was she annoyed that they’d now crossed whatever invisible boundary had been drawn in the sand from the moment she showed up at his front door with the paperwork from Dr. Weston?
But now wasn’t the time or place to address it, so Harry ate a lemon pastry and told Y/N he’d call her that night, a farewell hug at the door. This time, Y/N didn’t swat him away when he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Four pairs of eyes on him when the door latched shut and he turned around.
“…Yes?”
Gemma looked to Anne, Anne looked to Glenne, Glenne looked to Jeff.
“I think it was very successful,” Anne broke the silence first, a smile when Gemma nodded.
“Most importantly she seems like she can put you in place if need be,” his sister teased. “And we all know the need will be.”
“She can definitely handle him,” Glenne agreed, heading back towards the kitchen to clean up.
Anne disappeared upstairs to use the bathroom and change out of her Sunday best, Gemma rounded the island and sat at a stool. “What’s your take on all of this, Glenne?”
Harry let out a sigh–one he didn’t bother to hide from his sister and two close friends.
“I’ll ignore that,” Gemma shot him a glance.
Glenne wiped the counter down with a sponge when she nodded confidently. “She’s a good human. Good job, good values–can be a tad bit anxious but–nothing tooneurotic.”
Harry smiled at the way Glenne spoke about her, a warmth in his chest when he found a seat beside his sister.
“And you’re being nice to her?” Gemma narrowed her eyes.
“Nice to her? ‘Course I am–”
“You’re taking responsibility, figuring out how things will work?”
“What do you mean how things will work?”
Jeff laughed at that, a shake of his head as if all of these meetings were a waste of time.
“Custody, fiances, living arrangements,” Gemma shrugged her shoulders, Harry could always count on his older sister to be practical.
“We’re figuring that out,” Jeff answered for him.
“What he said,” Harry pointed a finger across the kitchen.
“Speaking of figuring things out,” Jeff’s eyebrows were raised now, he took a dish from Glenne and found a spot in Harry’s fridge. Once he turned around, he put his hands on the granite counter and took a deep breath.
“Have you slept with her?”
“Well…yeah,” Harry made a funny face, Glenne and Gemma both let out a snort of a laugh when Jeff rolled his eyes.
“I mean recently–post pregnancy?”
“No,” Harry said, eyes looking over to Glenne. What did she know? Was she in on the secret?
Her eyebrows lifted and she broke eye-contact, okay, Harry thought. That’s a yes. Gemma caught it too.
“Why do you look guilty?” Gemma’s eyes went wide in excitement.
“Yeah, Glenne,” he watched her with a threatening glare. “Why do you look guilty?”
Glenne rolled her eyes at Harry. “Don’t do this to me.”
“What do you mean?” Jeff was suspicious now, less excited than Gemma but just as confused and eager to know more.
“This isn’t fair,” Glenne looked between the three of them. No way was she about to rat out her friend and possibly create more drama than there already had been.
“Glenne…” Jeff eyed his girlfriend and hoped to God that she’d spill it. Getting information from Harry thus far had been like pulling teeth, Jeff decided, so if his girlfriend post-mimosa was the way he was going to get the actual truth, he’d take it.
“Harry…” Glenne tossed the metaphorical hot potato back to him.
Gemma was amused by all of it, another sip from another mimosa and a smile when she waited for her brother to crack.
“We have not slept together.”
“But?” Gemma pressed.
“But,” Harry shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know if I would call it a totally platonic relationship at this point.”
“Oh Jesus, Harry–” Jeff couldn’t keep the anxiety in. A sigh escaped his lips and Harry’s brow furrowed low on his forward.
“Oh Jesus, Harry, what? You really hate the idea of us together that much?”
“That’s not what he means,” Glenne tried to break the tension. “Right Jeff?”
Harry watched his friend expectantly. “Well what does he mean, then?”
“I’ve said it a thousand times, I just want you to be careful.”
“Harry–careful? With his heart?” Gemma fought the smile on her face, “the boy who made a cake for his year four crush and spelled out her name on top with little candies?”
Glenne thought this was cute, a clicking of her tongue when she pictured it that pulled an eye roll from Jeff.
“I’m not trying to be a dick. I like her–Y/N’s great–which is even more the reason why I don’t want you to fuck it up. Things could get messy and–”
“I don’t know why you’re saying all of this as if it’s news to me,” Harry shot him a look. Did Jeff really think he was that stupid?
No, he didn’t. Jeff didn’t think Harry was stupuid at all. But Jeff knew his friend well enough to know that he’d develop feelings for Y/N and things would be blissful until the going got rough. And Jeff, despite not being a father yet, knew that it would.
“We care about you guys,” Glenne held up her hands in an attempt to slow the conversation. “We just want what’s best for both of you and the baby–okay? Let’s all remember there’s a baby involved in this.”
“Hard to forget,” Harry said with a quick sigh.
__
Harry tried to act cool when he walked into Lexi’s birthday party, like his eyes didn’t scan the room immediately for her or like he hadn’t been sitting around checking his phone every half hour to see if she’d finally called.
It’d been a whole week since their mums met, a whole week of Harry replaying the day and wondering what it would be like one day when one of them had a baby strapped to their chest.
They’d texted a bit–the usual, how’s your day? How’s your week? What have you been up to?
He knew she was busy at work with the impending departure of her boss, figured that maybe this was her pattern: get close, pull away. He wondered if they’d be doing that dance for the next 18 years.
So Harry greeted Lexi with a kiss on both cheeks before he found a seat beside Y/N, a single kiss to her cheek and a hand on her thigh beneath the table that she didn’t shrink away from.
“How’re you? How’re you feeling?”
“Fine,” she said, a small smile in his direction before the waiter appeared behind them.
“Water’s fine,” Harry said. “M’all set.”
She smiled a little, rolled her eyes as if Harry was being dramatic or something. “Go ahead.”
“No,” he turned back to her, brows furrowed together. “If you’re not I’m not.”
“Ican’t,” she corrected, “there’s a difference. Water with lemon, please.”
The waiter disappeared and Jeff called Harry’s name–they laughed about an email miscommunication from the other week and when he turned back to see Y/N, Harry could tell something was up. “S’everything okay?”
“What? Yeah, what do you mean?”
“I dunno,” he shrugged, rested an elbow on the table and let his mouth get close to her ear to talk over the noise of the restaurant. “Haven’t seen you in a bit, not since our mums met.”
“I’ve been busy,” she said casually. “Levi’s last day is this week, so there’s a lot happening.”
“Alright,” he relented, unsure how far to push it. See, that was the thing. Harry didn’t know Y/N that well–he didn’t know her well enough to sit there and take the stand that something was off and demand any type of answer. He threw in a final observation: “You just seem distant.”
She didn’t reply, patted his thigh under the table and thanked the waiter for their drinks once they were delivered. She yelled across the table to Glenne with a smile on her face and sang happy birthday when they brought Lexi a slice of cake.
When they all made their way out to the parking lot, the night is just getting started, Lexi reminded, Harry walked beside Glenne towards his car.
“I’m gonna head home, I think,” Y/N said from behind him, her pace slowing after she said something to Jeff.
Glenne pouted when she turned around to see her friend. “Aw, what? Why?”
“I don’t feel well,” Y/N admitted, a lurch in Harry’s stomach at her words. “Just a headache, so, I don’t want to be a party pooper.”
“Do you need a ride?” he asked, his hands in his pockets when he scanned her face.
“No–I came with Lexi but I’ll just uber.”
“I can drive you,” he shrugged. “S’not a big deal.”
“Yeah, sweetie, let him take you,” Glenne nodded, folding her arms when she pouted again. “I’m sorry you don’t feel well.”
“It’s fine,” she brushed it off. “I think it was just the noise of the restaurant.”
Jeff nodded, kept quiet when Harry pulled out his own keys and nodded towards the Tesla Y/N had become quite familiar with.
“M’over there,” he said when he looked over to Jeff and Glenne. Any protests? No–Harry looked to Y/N.
“Okay, well,” she said. “I’ll talk to you both later.”
She gave them each a hug, fell into step beside Harry when Glenne called over her shoulder. “Let me know when you’re home!”
The parking lot was wet, asphalt still damp from a passing shower earlier in the night. When Y/N climbed into the passenger seat of Harry’s car, he turned to see her. “How bad is your headache?”
“I’ve had worse, but I’ll probably just go to sleep when I get home.”
He watched her again, pushed his lips out in thought but then started the car. “Why don’t you come to mine?”
“It’s late,” she said, a tiny shrug when he glanced over and smiled at her. Did he need to be more direct?
“I know–I mean, you can stay over if you want.”
Silence, he put the car in the reverse and turned left out of the lot.
“I have extra rooms,” he added.
“I’m alright, I can just go home.”
He looked at her quickly, a sideways glance out of guilt. He wasn’t trying to pressure her, didn’t want to make her uncomfortable and he certainly didn’t expectanything. But at this point Harry felt like it was almost pointless to pretend he didn’t like her, didn’t want to know what it was like to hear her whisper in his dark bedroom. He was also nervous that at any second something could go wrong and Harry just knewthat Y/N was downplaying whatever physical ailment had washed over her during dinner.
“I know you can go home. I just–I don’t know. I’m not trying to be paranoid but if you’re not feeling well I’d rather have you be somewhere where I can–y’know–take care of you.”
She glanced over at him quickly. “Okay,” she said, leaning back in the seat and closing her eyes. “Fine.”
“Well I don’t want to force you,” he said, his voice smaller now, almost embarrassed.
“You’re not,” she sighed, “I’m just trying to not puke in your Tesla.”
He laughed, “say the word and I’ll pull over.”
The rest of the ride was quiet, she cracked a smile at his joke and that gave Harry the confidence to lead her upstairs and into his bedroom, you can have a change of clothes and then we can watch a movie or something.
She stood in the center of the room when Harry disappeared into his closet. He knew the pair he’d give her: the gray ones with the knotted drawstring that he’d had for almost five years. Worn in and comfortable, the ones he always put on when he didn’t feel well.
“Here,” he said, coming back out with the sweatpants in hand. “These might be big on you, but, they’re my favorite pair–” he looked up, saw her eyes welling with water and felt his stomach drop. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, laughed a little like she was being silly or stupid. “Nothing.”
“Y/N, what’s up?” He stepped closer to her now, dropped the pants on his bed and brought his hands to her shoulders. “You’re freaking me out.”
She rolled her eyes and used her thumbs to wipe away the moisture. “I’m just sad.”
“Sad?”
“Sad,” she nodded, a big sigh like the emotion had been trailing behind her all night.
“Why are you sad?”
“I’m tired and scared and confused.”
Harry watched her for a second, the words hung heavy in the room when he contemplated the right response. Comfort her? Hug her? Words of affirmation or reassurance? He didn’t really know what the rightthing to do was–so he settled for what felt most authentic.
“I know,” he said, pulling her into him. “Me too.”
She stayed like that for a second, breathing against his chest with his arms wrapped around her. After a second she pulled away, looked up at him and wiped the water from the corners of her eyes again. Harry felt the urge to kiss her, tell her he’d been thinking a lot about painting the room down the hall a light shade of pink.
Those weren’t the only dreams Harry had been having–which is why he was so caught off guard when she stepped forward and kissed him, their bodies melted together instinctually and, for a second, Harry was sure this was another daydream he’d conjured up while sitting in traffic on the 405.
He guided her over to the bed, a smile on his face when she let him tug her dress over her head. But the anxiety echoed and it sounded a lot like Jeff–not exactly the sound Harry wanted playing in his head when he was potentially about to get it on.
Was this wrong? Was this messy? Was this a mistake?
Maybe, he decided, but it didn’t stop him from moaning into her both when she wrapped her hand around his length. She was hesitant a little too, nervous like last time but somehow more familiar with his body and the way she left a trail of goosebumps on his skin.
When his fingers slipped between her legs she smiled into him, her back arching up to meet him. A laugh escaped her lips when she felt him grind up against her. He pulled back, looked down at her and smiled. “Do you want to?”
She nodded, the most unraveled and beautiful Harry had ever seen her. “Please,” she said through breathy pants when he teased at her entrance, “please, just do it.”
“Alright, Nike, relax,” he joked, another kiss when he leaned down to hover over her, ignoring the way she rolled her eyes. He pressed into her slightly and let out a low hum. “You feel so good,” he said, settling into a rhythm.
“And we don’t have to worry about a condom,” she wiggled your eyebrows at him, gaining a throaty laugh.
But then he froze, his eyes went a bit wide and his lips parted. “Is it–uh–are we allowed to do this?”
“What do you mean?” She asked, hips involuntarily rocking into him. Her eyes were closed, focused on the way their bodies felt together.
“We’re not going to like, hurt her, right?”
“No!” She said, her voice high and squeaky when she stifled a laugh.
“Well I don’t know,” Harry laughed, almost embarrassed once he started moving against Y/N’s center again. “I’ve never had sex with a pregnant woman before,” he tried to justify his concern.
“Good to know,” she nodded a bit sarcastically, tugged on his arms to bring him back down to her.
It went like that for a while, a playful air to a moment Harry was sure would be locked in his brain for the rest of eternity. He loved the way she said his name, breathless and desperate when she found the release of orgasm. He picked up the pace and finished shortly after, flopped onto the mattress beside her when she giggled.
“What?”
“You called me Nike.”
“That was a good one,” he smirked. “M’quite clever.”
They both stared up at the fan on the ceiling, it circled and circled and Harry felt a little silly for being as nervous as he was. He’d done this countless times–but never before with the acquaintance turned friend turned maybe something more that was pregnant with his child.
“I don’t really remember the first time, but, I think that was better.”
“Me too,” he laughed. “And we know that we didn’t get you pregnant this time.”
She giggled and rolled over to see him, close enough for Harry to see the freckles on her nose when she thought aloud: “maybe we shouldn’t have done that.”
“We could probably say that about a lot of stuff right now.”
She nodded, let out a sigh and reached over, tracing her finger over the black ink on his chest. He watched her for a moment, noticed the way her lips curved up when she stole a glance at him.
“Were you avoiding me before tonight?”
Silence, a playful look of guilt on her face when her eyebrows arched. “Maybe.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I don’t know what we’re doing.”
He smiled a bit. “Neither do I, trust me.”
“I don’t want to fuck this up.”
He nodded, was about to say that they wouldn’t–that they’d figure it out and everything would be fine, but something on the floor vibrated beneath her dress that now lay crumpled on the floor. She reached over and grabbed for it, slid a thumb across the screen. “S’Glenne,–hey, sorry I didn’t call, I’m home.”
Harry’s brows went north at her lie, she gave him the finger and mouthed be quiet.
He watched as she nodded along, told Glenne she was feeling a little better already. Her expression changed after a second, though, frustration or anxiety or something crossed her face and Harry felt his forehead wrinkle with curiosity.
“We just had coffee, Glenney, we were just talking about some logistics.”
Coffee? With who?
“No, sweetie, everything’s fine.”
Was Harry supposed to pretend he wasn’t listening? He was naked atop his own bed, letting his eyes trail around the room when he let out a whistle.
“Alright,” Y/N said, stifling a laugh. “Well I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay? Tell Lexi I say happy birthday again!”
They said goodbye and she hung up, a bit of a bashful smile on her face when Harry let out a laugh and sat up.
“She sounds trashed.”
“She’s getting there,” she said.
“What was she asking about?”
She blew air between her lips, reached for the t-shirt he’d brought out for her and tugged it over her head. “I had coffee with Jeff the other day.”
Harry nodded slowly. “Why?”
“Just to talk,” she paused. “Glenne said there’s a photo, like, a paparazzi photo.”
“Fuck.” Jeff must have been annoyed.
“Yeah, but it’s fine.”
A text dinged on her phone, she inspected the screen and then flipped it around to show Harry the photo in question.
There was no way Y/N hadn’t known this was coming–and, Harry realized, there was no way this was her first time in a pap pic. She was friends with Lexi and frequented cast parties. She’d been to parties before with Jeff and Harry and their other friends who drew attention like that.
“What’d you–uh–what’d you talk about?”
“Just logistics,” she gave him the same answer she’d given Glenne. Harry felt his lips curl up at the sides, bullshit.She brought her eyes up to his, a quick realization that while Glenne had been buzzed enough to buy it, Harry wasn’t.
“Yeah?” He challenged, “what kind?”
She looked around the room, let her shoulders rise and fall with her breath. “Just–”
“Not letting things get messy?”
She was quiet for a minute, eyes on the hardwood floor until she chanced a look in his direction again.
“He’s giving you the same lectures?” He smirked, wiggled his eyebrows and then let himself flop back on the duvet, another laugh escaped his lips and floated up to the ceiling.
She stood with her hands on his hips, bit back the smile that mirrored his. “Guess they have a point.”
He nodded slowly, like he was thinking about it. Like he was ready to make his case or justify his own beliefs. Instead, he looked over at her. “Do you want a cup of tea?”
So she followed him downstairs and sat at the island, the same place where Glenne had poured mimosas for their mothers and Gemma put him on trial. Neither of them mentioned the sex or the sweatpants and neither of them dared to ask what any of it meant.
Harry flipped off the burner when the kettle came to a boil, poured its contents into a mug when the teabag rose up to the surface. “Have you thought at all about, uh, moving in?”
He pushed the cup across the granite, got honey from the cabinet overhead and refused couldn’t bring himself to look at her.
“Sort of.”
Okay, so she wasn’t going to give in that easily. Harry cleared his throat, came around the island with his own mug and sat beside her. “The photo made me think about it, s’all. S’probably more private here.”
“Yeah.” She took a sip and was quiet for a second. “I don’t want to be in the way, you know? I think that might make things messier than…they already are.”
He waited, moved his head side to side in thought. Maybe it was selfish, his desire to have her close or be under the same roof. He didn’t want her to do anything that made her uncomfortable, and he certainly wasn’t trying to twist her arm.
In Harry’s eyes, having her here made sense. If they were going to do this together, it’d be easier for her to sleep in a room down the hall than across town. It didn’t have to be now, and it didn’t have to be forever.
“Yeah–no, I just, think it’d be nice, you know. We can get ready more that way and once she’s here it’ll be easier. There’s enough room if your mum wants to come or if my mum wants to, y’know, to help out or something.”
“S’a good point,” she said, a small nod when he brought his eyes up to look at her.
“Yeah?”
A shrug of her shoulders, a playful smile before she rolled her eyes. “Yeah.”
“So–do you want to?”
“We can try it.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Try it.”
But Harry knew that this was a slippery slope. He knew that sharing a kitchen and an address was a big step, one that came extremely fast for two people who had justchosen to sleep together for the first time without the aid of whatever cocktails they’d nursed that fateful night. He knew that his heart pounded every time she walked in the room, he felt his stomach flip when she called.
But he didn’t know where this was headed or how to figure that out. So instead of getting nervous, he decided he’d get excited. There was plenty to do to prepare for a new chapter that neither of them had expected. And Harry knew that if he couldn’t control something, he had to make peace with it. Which is why he stared at the ceiling that night wishing sleep would come, a terrifying and thrilling thought circling his brain like the fan that spun overhead.
AN: WOW. I mean, we already knew Harry was falling hard, but at least now he knows it too. Sorry I’ve been a little MIA pals, some exciting personal news coming soon!
