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Harry Styles was the type that everybody wanted to be seen with. He was crowned prom king in high school; twice in a row. He was starting quarterback for every game he played, and made nationals every year he was on the team.
Rumour has it that he dated each and every one of the cheerleaders at least twice. Some say he’s even got the whole drama club to blow him.
He knew just what he wanted in life, and when he wants something, he gets it.
And that was just in high school.
Now, in university, he was one of the most sought-after in his fraternity, Alpha Sigma Phi. He was charming, witty, and funny. Oh, and he was also ridiculously good-looking.
He got everything his way; extensions on assignments, access to every party, girls to blow him, guys who’d do more than give him handjobs, people who’d happily do his assignments for him in return for a date with Harry Styles. You name it.
To keep things simple, Harry didn’t do relationships. Never. Unless that time in his junior year with his civics teacher counted (but it didn’t so why are we even bringing this up).
Life was a breeze for Harry, everything came so easily to him. All he had to do was flash a smile and maybe a little sweet-talk to top it off.
The concept of chasing after someone in conquest for love was completely foreign to him. Anyone he had ever wanted dropped on their knees at his wish and spread their legs easily for him.
He was everything anyone wanted to be; privileged, attractive, and most of all, charming.
***
One thing Harry loved more than being himself was being part of a fraternity house. If his life wasn’t already perfect before entering uni, it now was. He had access to all the exclusive parties, insane amounts of booze and lines of people to hook up with. And that wasn’t even the best part.
His fraternity brothers were. They are pretty much sworn into brotherhood, and would always have each others’ backs. Not only that, they were tons of fun as well; always a trick up their sleeve and wanting some sort of action.
Pranks were an everyday occurrence at the Alpha Sigma Phi house. There could never be a day where Harry could actually get ready for school without having to search high and low for his underwear or find his toothpaste being replaced by shaving cream. But that was alright, he always found a way to get back at them. After all, what were brothers for?
Coming from a family full of girls (his mother and older sister, which automatically counted as four because Gemma’s friends pretty much live in their house), living in a frat house was heaven.
He didn’t have to wank in silence (not that he ever had to do that very often in the past or now for that matter but it was still a concern). Cleanliness was not a priority. As long as there was walking space on the floor and nothing was rotting, they were good to go.
He loved his brothers. They accepted each other for what they were, no questions asked. Their loyalty to each other was unquestionable. There were no secrets between them and everything was out in the open.
Except when it came to Harry’s birthday.
His brothers had decided to make this whole show on keeping their planning of Harry’s birthday celebration a secret (those fiends).
For the past couple of weeks, his frat brothers, Liam, Louis and Zayn, were constantly huddled together and whispering. No matter how many times Harry asked, they refused to tell him the topic of their discussion. The only thing that was disclosed was, “We’re planning your damn birthday and it’s gonna be the shit so you shouldn’t worry your curly head over this, now fuck off.”
And that was how all Harry’s inquiries ended.
His other frat brothers (Ed, Josh, Calum, Luke, Michael and Ashton) weren’t part of this exclusive planning, but they apparently knew a thing or two more than Harry.
“You’re gonna love it,” Michael assures Harry when he complained about how it was “so fucking unfair that they’re not telling me about my birthday.”
“So here’s what I gathered,” Harry says two days before his birthday when they were having a boys’ night in (which usually consisted of booze, junk food and video games and porn on good days). “This surprise shit is for my birthday, and everyone knows about it but me. I’m apparently gonna like this, and everyone’s paying for it?”
The last part he got from Zayn who was ranting (rather loudly) to Josh about having to “pay for that damn thing for Harry when I don’t even get a chance to have a go.”
“Pretty much,” Louis says, eyes focused on the TV screen, hands glued to his console.
“What else have you ‘gathered’?” Ed asks.
“That’s pretty much it,” Harry admits.
“And that’s all you’re getting,” Liam says, cueing the end of the discussion.
“If I blow you would you tell me what it is?” Harry whispers to Luke conspiratorily.
Luke was the softie and usually gave in easily. But this time he declined (much to Harry’s dismay).
“No thanks, bro. Tempting as that sounds.”
“Harry, there’s no point in trying to bribe anyone,” Ashton says before Harry could open his mouth and offer more blowjobs. “We’re all being rewarded for keeping a hush-hush about this.”
Harry sulked for the whole night.
***
Two days later, it was only when he had half a beer that Louis decided to bring it up again.
“Remember that thing you were bugging us about for the past month?”
“Yeah,” Harry says, gingerly pushing away the girl that’d been desperately clinging on to his arm since the start of the party.
“Well, it’s here.”
“What?”
“Yeah. D’you want it? I’m pretty sure we’re all willing to take it if you refuse.”
“You little shit, of course I want it.” At this point Harry doesn’t really care if it was going to be boxer briefs or the some vintage video game; he wanted it. He wanted to know what it was. It was killing him not to know.
Louis eyed him up and down, taking in his appearance before finally nodding and motioning for Harry to follow him. He led Harry through the crowds and out of the buzzing building. Harry’s mind was whirling at the different possibilities of what it could be.
Was it a bike? Or maybe some priceless booze? Wait, it was -
“- you guys got me a stripper?” Harry gasps, staring at the ma - no, boy, in front of him.
Said boy was seated at the hood of Harry’s Toyota with his legs crossed, surrounded by Harry’s frat brothers. He was dressed in semi casual attire and his bleached hair was meticulously mussed up to appear casual. His eyes were a startling blue that put Michael’s hair to shame. And before anyone could answer, the boy spoke for himself.
“No,” he said, sounding very offended. “I’m an escort, you ungrateful shit.”
And Harry was charmed. Absolutely smitten. He couldn’t help but stare at how well the boy carried himself; with such class and dignity and a tinge of seduction dressed in a tight-fitting dress shirt (top two buttons undone) and equally-fitting dark jeans. How does one pull that off without coming off as a total slut?
“I thought you said this one would be charming,” the boy sniffed, throwing an accusing glare at Liam.
It appeared Harry wasn’t the only one smitten by the escort. Liam blushed, hard. Josh was obviously checking out the escort’s assets (he didn’t bother hiding how much he liked the escort’s bum at all).
“I am charming,” Harry interjects, tossing his curls. Experience has taught him that running his hands through his hair was appealing and endearing. People often fell for him when he did that. Why should this time be any different?.
I want him, he thought. And I shall get him.
“Why don’t I show you some of that action?” he smirked, flashing his most alluring smile at the escort.
“M’name’s Niall,” said the escort. “I don’t do kissing, and I leave at 5. Before that, I’m all yours.”
Why wasn’t he flirting back? Harry’s mind screamed internally.
“Don’t worry darling, I could make this night last forever,” Harry tried again, dropping his voice an octave lower, an arm snaking it’s way around Niall’s waist.
Niall snorted, shifting into Harry’s touch. “You shouldn’t be wasting your time trying to pick me up when your friends here have kindly paid for the whole night.”
Liam thrusted a set of keys into Harry’s hands.
“We got you a room, go and enjoy your night.”
Harry didn’t need any further prompting. Taking Niall by his hand, he opened the door to his car for him before proceeding to get in the driver’s seat. His game face was on. He was going to own this night.
***
Harry liked people he could have intellectual conversations with. Harry particularly liked when they were pretty and had nice eyes. He also likes when he could turn up his stereo and be able to play Guns ‘N Roses and Aerosmith without having anyone yell at him to play something from this generation. He especially likes when someone sings along with him when Righteous Brothers come on.
And yeah, he really likes Niall. Even more so when he’s discovered Niall can sing.
“I take that back,” Niall says when Unchained Melody tunes out. “You’re not entirely un-charming. Your music taste is pretty classy.”
“You’re not too bad yourself,” Harry replies, pulling into a lot. “Not many people still listen to classics like those. I personally like a boy with class.”
“Please,” Niall quips. “I’m the classiest person you’d ever meet.”
“We’ll see about that when I’ve got you under me,” Harry murmurs into Niall’s neck as he leans over to help Niall undo his seatbelt. He couldn’t resist pressing a kiss into the pale column that lay before his lips.
Niall giggle, placing his hands gently on Harry’s head, threading his fingers through his hair.
“There’s no need to start here when we’ve got a perfectly good room to put to use,” he whispered to Harry, tongue darting out to lick the shell of Harry’s ear.
“Let’s get it going then.”
He pecked Niall chastely on the cheek and exited the car, rushing to the other side to open the door for Niall.
Closing the door behind Niall, Harry straightened himself and held an arm out for Niall to hook on to.
“Have you ate?” Harry asked, voice husky and low, dropped to a near sultry whisper.
“No, and you?”
“Then what are we waiting for? There’s a restaurant in the hotel.”
***
They placed their orders, Harry getting a house burger and Niall getting a club sandwich. Harry spent more time watching the way Niall would fold his napkin over his pants and arrange his cutlery than he spent looking through the menu and listening to the recommendations made by the waiter.
“So what are you doing in school?” Niall starts the conversation, a smile playing on his lips and his eyes sparkling with curiosity. There was no way he was actually interested about what Harry did in school, but Harry played along.
“Biochemistry. I’m in my second year,” Harry says, resting his arms at the edge of the table. “And you? What do you do? Apart from this?”
Niall grinned. “Social science and humanities usually take up my time during the day.”
“Aiming to be a politician then?” Harry couldn’t help but ask.
“Do all biochemists become doctors?” Niall asked back.
Harry raised his eyebrows and nodded his head in approval. “Well said, well said.”
“I just got Harry Styles’ approval. Now that’s something,” Niall said, taking a sip of his water.
He was so dainty with the way he set the glass down and dabbed his lips with his napkin, and Harry couldn’t help but wonder how he would be, all spread out and ready on the bed. Every bone in his body screamed for him to skip dinner and move on to the main course in the bedroom.
Fortunately, the rational part of his mind won over. There was no need to rush through things in the heat of lust when he had the whole night ahead of him.
“What does having Harry Styles’ opinion even add up to?” Harry shoots back at Niall.
“Hmm.. Having the most attractive guy on campus and possibly the whole state-”
“Cut the crap, Niall,” Harry chuckled. “Not on campus. Have you not seen Zayn?”
“The tanned dude with the tats? One of your frat brothers? Yeah. True. But he’s such a dork.”
Harry snorted. Despite Zayn’s exotic features and mysterious persona, he was quite the dork, and also the nerdiest of all his friends. He was also pretty awkward when it came to talking to someone he was interested in.
“Touché.”
“You see, you’re classy like that, which is what adds up to you being the most attractive guy on campus,” Niall concludes.
“Is that right?” Harry quirks his eyebrow at Niall, folding his hands over the table and leaning forward a little, his back straightening.
Niall only responded by smirking, his lip curling up flirtatiously and his eyes gleaming mischieviously. This was somehow endearing to Harry, and he found himself wanting Niall more and more.
Their meal was served, and Harry made haste to start at his platter, wanting no time to be wasted on eating when he could be doing better things with Niall. The blond seemed to get the message from Harry’s actions and sped up his eating, not ceasing to look elegant as he did so. How did he keep such a firm composure?
He found he couldn’t take his eyes off Niall’s lips, watching in fascination as the blond ate his meal, his cherry-dusted lips glistening enticingly, chewing each mouthful a good seven times (Harry counted) before swallowing (and that itself was another story altogether).
Blood began to pool at his lower regions as images of pinkish lips wrapped around his cock began to fill his mind. He silently groaned, and quickened his pace with his meal. Every moment here was a moment wasted not fucking Niall.
“May we have the bill please?”
Harry’s eyes widened. They weren’t done their meal yet, but Niall seemed as eager as him when it came to their next activity on the itinerary.
Hastily taking the bill from the waiter’s hands and slapping his credit card on it before sliding it back to the bored-looking man, Harry got out of his chair and pecked Niall on the cheek before helping the blond out of his seat. He signed the given receipt in a flurry as he simultaneously stuffed his card back into his wallet.
“Been thinking ‘bout how good you look all night,” he whispered huskily into Niall’s ear as he herded the boy out, his front pressing too close to Niall’s back as his arm snaked it’s way around the smaller boy’s waist.
“You’ve got the whole night to think about it,” was Niall’s reply, but Harry could tell he was starting to lose his edge. He smirked to himself in triumph. This night was his.