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“I’m going to take a bath,” Harry announces to apparently no one as they enter his flat.
Liam’s with him, but he’s already spanning across the flat in quick strides to get to the living room and the telly. “Ha,” he calls. “I get to pick the movie tonight.”
Harry sighs.
It’s extremely difficult being in love with your best mate, especially when he’s so, so, so, sososo oblivious to it.
Harry’s known Liam for four years, and before Liam he’s pretty certain he didn’t believe in love at first sight, or well, maybe he still doesn’t. But he does love Liam, somehow. He fell in love the way they do in perfect romance novels, and good films: overnight. Liam fit himself into his life so effortlessly, and they formed a friendship, then Harry woke up and realized he was in love with the boy. Liam doesn’t know. Harry’s beginning to suspect Liam will never know.
Liam’s newly single. Three weeks newly.
Three weeks. That’s twenty-one days, five hundred and four hours, and thirty-thousand, two hundred and forty minutes. All of which Harry has spent hinting to Liam, without actually saying the words, that he’d like to be a bit more than friends. Or a lot more, but he’s willing to take baby steps, and Harry’s not particularly fond of baby steps.
And, okay, maybe he hasn’t spent that entire time throwing himself at the older boy, but any normal person would have picked up by now.
Liam’s been in some kind of serious relationship since Harry met him, and like that wasn’t hard enough as is, imagine how he took to finding out Liam was moving into Danielle’s flat, and the “God, Harry, I think I might marry that girl” confession.
(He didn’t take it well, or so that’s what Louis says, he spent the entire month they lived together drowning in lots and lots and lots of vodka).
Liam showed up at Harry’s door one rainy night, claiming he had nowhere else to go, and Harry thanks every higher power he doesn’t even really believe in that he was sober that night. Well, sober is putting it delicately. He was wildly hung over, and had he not been in the kitchen getting his hundredth water bottle, he would have missed the knocking due to the heavy rain beating across his windows, and spent the entire night hugging his toilet seat.
They both crawled into Harry king sized bed, and he listened intently as Liam told him how “it just wasn’t working” and “she said my mind always seemed elsewhere” and “I can’t be too upset, I guess. I’m really not actually; I’ll just miss her as a friend.”
It’s simply not polite to tell your best mate you’d like him to fuck you into your mattress, despite your raging hang over, the day he breaks up with his girlfriend, so Harry instead chose to cuddle against his soft skin and tell him he could stay as long as he liked. Liam kissed him on the forehead, and told him he was the best person he ever knew.
Now, three weeks later, and Liam still sleeps in his bed with him, and they cuddle, because, well, that’s always been a factor. He keeps insisting that he’ll move out soon, and keeps trying to move his suitcase into the living room, and Harry won’t have it. “Sofa’s no place for anyone to sleep, even for a night,” he always tells Liam, and Liam sighs and tells Harry he’s the best.
Harry really thinks if Liam tells him “he’s the best” one more time and it isn’t right before, or after, he fucks him, he’s going to explode.
And really, how Liam has not even caught on yet is just beyond him. Harry’s held his hand so much, and publicly, he’s almost certain his landlord thinks they’re dating. Sometimes, even, when they go hang out with Niall, Zayn, and Louis, Harry will come up behind Liam, wrap his arms around Liam’s middle and kiss the back of his neck. Liam hums lightly, smiles at Harry, and that’s it. The other three always roll their eyes when Harry goes in for the kill, and gets politely denied. It’s either Liam’s really slow to understanding that this is Harry making a move on Liam, and he just sees it as this is how Harry is, and if that’s the case he’s really going to have to work on not being so affectionate with everyone all the time. Or Liam is genuinely not interested, and, being Liam, doesn’t have the heart to just tell Harry to stop.
Harry’s certain he doesn’t have the will power to stop, so unless Liam speaks up, he’ll keep trying.
Tonight they went to dinner with the other three lads, and Harry laced his fingers with Liam as they walked in. Louis scoffed as they walked past the bench he was sitting at. Louis knows. Louis always knows. As they waited for the other two, Harry placed his hand not in Liam’s on his thigh, and traced circles across the jean material with his thumb. Liam hummed silently as he did it, and told him that it felt really nice. Louis almost choked on his water. When Niall and Zayn arrived, late per usual, with bite marks on each of their necks, Liam cackled and Harry tried not to attach his lips to Liam’s neck. The waiter took them to their table, and Liam pulled his hand away from Harry and almost sat next to Louis before Harry tripped Louis and pushed him to the seat over. Liam didn’t notice. They all ordered drinks and Harry excused himself to the restroom. Louis followed.
When Harry came out of the stall, he found Louis with his back to the restroom door, arms folded across his chest. Harry laughed.
“Sorry, mate.” Harry turned his back to him, approached the tap, and began to wash his hands.
“Think you could be a bit more obvious, Haz?” Louis asked.
Harry snorted, and looked up at Louis through the mirror. “Obviously not, he’s fucking daft. I’ve all but sucked his dick in public.”
Louis shrugged. “Maybe that’s what you’re doing wrong.” Harry let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. “I’m serious, mate. Bet he’s into the kinky stuff.”
Harry and Louis joined the others back at the table. Harry refrained from getting on his knees underneath the table and sucking Liam off, but he did place his lips to Liam’s neck, nibbling down hard, and then soothing the ache with his tongue and light kisses. Liam hissed and giggled under the touch, pushing Harry away. Everyone groaned.
Now they’re back at the flat, and Liam’s kicking off his converse, getting entirely too comfortable, and surfing through the movie channels. Harry huffs loudly, and heads to the bathroom.
“Don’t get wrinkly in there, girlfriend.” He hears Liam shout out as he starts running the water. Harry flips off the door, and wills himself not to laugh, because how appropriate, a girl joke.
Harry gets out of his clothes and gets into the water. He hisses as the hot water hits his cold skin, then sighs as his muscles begin to relax, and sinks down into the tub. He took a shower before they went to the restaurant, so he’s not trying to get clean really, but the water feels nice, and maybe it’ll calm him down a bit, and clear his head. He’s also thinking about how to get Liam in the bath, but unless he knocks Liam over the head, and lowers his unconscious body into the water, he doesn’t think it’s going to happen.
He sighs. “Liam!” He yells, high pitched and strained, reeking of urgency.
Liam’s feet slap across the hardwood floor as he runs from the living room to the bathroom, echoing throughout the entire flat. Harry smirks to himself. The door flies open and Harry groans as he’s greeted with Liam, who has rid himself of all his clothing, except his boxer briefs. Harry stares at Liam’s clothed cock and licks his lips. “Fuck,” he mutters.
“Fuck, Harry. Are you honestly okay?” He’s rambling out. Harry tries so hard not to smile, because he’s so cute when he’s in a panic. “You sounded hurt.”
“I am,” Harry says matter-of-factly. “You see, my short armed parents decided to breed, and make short armed children, and now I can’t reach my back. I am hurt by their lack of poor decisions." Harry knows his arms are plenty long enough.
Liam’s hands are on his hips and he’s frowning hard at Harry. This time Harry’s definitely smiling. God, he’s cute.
“You’re a dick, Haz. I almost put an imprint of my face in your wall tripping over my jeans.”
Harry lets out a loud bark and Liam starts backing out of the bathroom. “No! Liam I’m sorry,” he says between breaths. “I knew I’d have to really need help to get your attention, but I really, really, really need help reaching my back. I even have soap; all I need is your hands.”
“Fine,” Liam hisses. “But you’re still a dick.”
He walks further into the bathroom, and shuts the door behind him. He gets down on his knees beside the tub, dips his hands in the water near Harry’s thigh, pulls them back out and cups them. Harry laughs, takes his bottle of body wash and squeezes it into Liam’s hands.
Liam howls at the pink liquid, leans down to smell it, “Ah, pomegranate, the forbidden fruit.”
Harry blushes. “Shut up, Payne. It smells fantastic.”
“You’re a girl,” Liam replies.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get to rubbing.”
Harry clenches his eyes shut the minute Liam’s hand hit his spine, willing himself not to moan in pleasure. Liam runs his hands down the length of Harry’s exposed back, and up towards his neck and shoulders, covering all his skin with the silky soap. Liam dips hands back in the water, just by Harry’s arse, and drops handfuls of water against his back, washing away the suds. Harry lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.
“Can you, uh,” he strains out. “Do that again?”
Liam clears his throat. His soft brown eyes capture Harry’s emerald ones, and God, his pupils are blown wide. He nods quickly, and Harry shakily squeezes more of the soap into Liam’s hands.
“Lean forward a bit, yeah?” Liam asks, and his voice is just strained as Harry’s was moments ago. Harry obliges, and leans himself forward quickly, resting his chin against his knee, and knows before Liam’s hands are even on him this time that he’s going to moan out.
Liam starts at his shoulder blades, rubbing up to the shoulders, and stays there for a minute massaging up against his neck. Harry bites down on his kneecap hard, and feels the skin start to bruise underneath him. He’s so desperate for Liam’s hands to be all over the rest of his body, but he’s not sure how to voice it, so he lets out a small, pleasuring whimper.
“Fuck,” Liam groans. Harry’s so fucking turned on. “You can, um, do more of that, if you want.” Harry feels his cock twitch.
Liam moves further down Harry’s back, running his fingers along Harry’s sides, and in between each of his ribs. Harry squirms a little.
“Sorry,” Liam laughs.
“’S okay,” Harry says into his skin. “Just a bit ticklish.”
Liam proceeds to massage the suds into Harry’s skin, and hums pleasantly anytime Harry lets out a “ah,” or a “yeah,” or a “feels so good.” Harry’s digging his nails into his submerged feet, and when’s he’s not moaning out, he’s biting hard against his knees. Even if this is the extent of touching he receives from Liam tonight, he’s going to leave this bathtub with bite marks, nail marks, and bruises.
Liam’s hands dip back down in the water near Harry’s arse, and he sighs inwardly knowing that Liam’s about to rinse the suds off Harry’s skin, and he’s not sure he can get away with asking for another round, even if Liam does seem to be enjoying it just as much. Harry waits for the cooling water to hit his back, instead Liam’s hands slip further down and he grips at each of Harry’s cheeks and squeezes.
“Fuck, Li,” Harry chokes out, twitching at the grasp.
Liam giggles and his hot breath hits Harry’s shoulder. “I’d say sorry, but.” He laughs at his own pun, and slides a middle finger in Harry’s crack; his fingertip finding the soft ring of muscle and massaging it.
“God, fuck.” Harry’s gasping for breath and his arms fling out of the tub and grip each side of the tub. Liam’s just chuckling lightly as he takes his hands away from Harry, and cups water into his hands and throws it against Harry’s back.
When all the water has washed away the pomegranate soap Liam leans in, and presses his lips to Harry’s shoulder. Harry’s breath hitches as Liam’s jaw pops open, and he sucks Harry’s freckled skin into his mouth.
“W-what are you d-doing?” Harry stutters.
“I could do your front, yeah?” Liam ignores the question.
Harry doesn’t think he’s even reached for anything in his life as fast as he reached for that bottle of body wash. Before he can squeeze as much of it into Liam’s hands, Liam firmly plants his hand to Harry’s chest, and pushes him back until his back meets the tile of the shower. He cups out his hands for Harry again, and once again he shakily pours the contents of the bottle into Liam’s hands.
Harry clenches his eyes shut, waiting for the touch, and lets out a loud moan when he feels Liam’s lips instead of his hands on his collarbones. He opens his eyes and looks down at Liam who is sucking dark, purple bruises against the defined bone.
“I’ve always been a sucker for nice collarbones,” Liam says when he pulls of Harry with a pop.
“God,” is all Harry even attempts to muster.
Liam smirks and rubs his hands together, lathering up the soap, and placing them to Harry’s chest. He rubs up Harry’s chest, and brushing against the bruise he just inflicted with one hand, causing Harry to hiss, then rubs the opposite hand across Harry’s tense peck, finally finding the nipple and squeezing it between his thumb and forefinger. Harry all but yells out. He settles back in his chorus of “ah”, “yeah,” and “feels so good,” as Liam continues down Harry’s front, spending a good few minutes focusing on the abs, and biting down on his own lip as he watches Harry writhe under his soft touch.
He dips his hand into the water, and brushes the back of his hand against the length of Harry’s cock, and there’s no way that was an accident, especially when he starts giggling as Harry spits out a harsh “Shit, Li.” Liam runs his hands in and out of the water, splashing Harry’s chest until all the soap runs into the water.
Harry’s out of body wash, and God, all he wants to do is grip Liam’s shoulders and pull him on top of him, and tell him to fuck him so hard he can’t walk straight for a week. And there’s absolutely no possible way that Liam isn’t turned on either, with the way his eyes are hooked on Harry’s torso, and he’s biting down so hard on his lip that it’s going white. Liam sighs, his hand still in the water finding Harry’s hip, and tracing soft circles onto the skin.
“Liam, I—“ Harry begins, but is cut off when Liam leans into him, and begins running a string of kisses against his jaw. Harry gasps, tilting his head to the side, giving Liam more room to explore.
And then.
Beep.
Liam pulls away from Harry, out of the water, and Harry tries to grip him, but he’s already out of his grasp. “The Panini’s, oh wow, I forgot about them.” He pushes himself off the tile, and is at the door before Harry has even realized what’s going on. “Come on, get out, I made snacks.”
“Liam,” Harry begins, pleading with himself not to rip down the shower head, and beat Liam over the head with it for being such a fucking tease. “We just had dinner.”
Liam laughs. Just laughs. He exits the bathroom and calls out behind him, “Get out, you’re already getting wrinkly.”
Harry smacks his arms hard against the water. Panini’s. Fucking Panini’s.
He drains the tub, dries himself off, finds a pair of sweatpants in his room, and slips into them. He doesn’t bother with a shirt. He stomps through the flat into the kitchen, where Liam, who is still clad in just his boxers, is putting the food together on a tray.
“They are turkey and bacon, and well mine has avocado, because I know you think they ruin sandwiches,” he says with a laugh.
“I don’t want your fucking Panini,” he says harshly, and Liam looks up.
“Well,” Liam drags the word out. Harry wants to punch him. “Such a shame, too, they’d probably taste good in that filthy mouth.” He looks back down on the tray.
Harry swears he’s about to lose his mind. “I don’t want to taste them in my filthy mouth, I want to taste you.”
Liam looks back up at Harry and he’s grinning from ear to ear. “Wow, he finally says it.”
“W-what?” His heart is about to pop out of his chest, and he can’t be bothered thinking about the jail time he’ll get for premeditated murder, but he’s definitely about to strangle Liam.
“I’ve been waiting for you to just admit it, Harry.” He places the knife down on the tray and walks closer to Harry, who notices he’s half hard. Oh. “You’ve been throwing yourself at me for years, but I just wanted to hear you say you wanted me. You never did, so I always just found someone else.”
“Do you want me?” Harry asked childishly.
He looks down at himself. “Don’t be dumb, Haz.”
“You could have said something!” Harry shouted, tossing his hands up in the air, to which Liam just continued to laugh. He’s really not enjoying being played the fool in this situation.
Liam reaches Harry, places his hands on the younger boy’s hips, and pushes him until he hits the wall of kitchen. “So could you,” he whispers gently into Harry’s ear, and strings kisses against Harry’s jaw.
Harry gasped harshly, and pulls Liam into him, feeling the erection rub against his thigh. Liam pulls himself from Harry, who started to huff at the loss, but was cut off by Liam attaching his lips to Harry’s. Liam licks into Harry’s mouth, and when Harry’s let his mouth crack open, Liam’s tongue slides in his mouth. They massage their tongues against each other, and Harry moans into Liam’s mouth; snaking his hands behind Liam’s back, pushing Liam harder against his body. Their erections meet, rubbing against each other, and Harry knows he isn’t going to last.
“Want you in my mouth,” he said into Liam’s own mouth.
“Mhm,” Liam hums.
“Now,” Harry growled, pressing his hands against Liam’s hips, pushing him off, and dragging him into the bedroom. Liam giggled as he was pulled down the hallway, into the first room, and as Harry stripped himself of his sweatpants the moment the door closed behind them.
“Wow, you really meant now,” Liam laughed. Harry nodded, wrapped his fingers around Liam’s wrists, and licked back into his mouth. He walked backwards until the back of his knees collided with the bed, and he fell down bringing Liam with him. Harry palmed at Liam’s cock through his boxer briefs, and Liam growled into his mouth. “Feels so good,” he said against Harry.
Harry pushed against Liam, flipping them so he was on top, and places a string of kisses starting from his jaw, down his neck, and to his chest, and then licking against his abs, and finishing by sharply nipping at his hips, to which Liam thrust upwards. Harry resumed palming at Liam’s cock, biting his lip hard as Liam rubbed back against his hand. He pulled his hand away, gripping the elastic of the boxer briefs, and pulling down as Liam raised his hips. Liam’s prick sprung free, slapping against his stomach with a thud, and Harry tossed the boxers behind him. He ran his middle finger down the length of Liam’s member, and simply buzzed from the sound of Liam moaning underneath his touch. He’d seen Liam naked plenty of times prior to this, but never fully erect, and dark, and pleading with Harry to “get on with it.” He just needed to take it all in for a minute.
“Harry,” Liam strained out. “Please.”
Harry giggled at Liam, wetted his drying lips, and licked the head of Liam’s cock. The older boy let out a breath immediately, and Harry slid down, taking him all in. As he bobbed up and down, he let his tongue go further than his lips, licking and sucking Liam’s entire shaft. Liam was thrusting into Harry’s mouth, and Harry whimpered in pleasure, letting Liam fuck his mouth.
“So good, Harry,” Liam gasped. He was sososo close and he dug nails into the top of Harry’s scalp, which shifted his eyes up, looked at him through hooked eyes, and smirked against Liam’s cock before pulling off with a loud pop. “Tell me you have—“
“Lube?” Harry interrupted him, climbing back up Liam, and towards the bedside table and pulling out a small bottle, and a condom from the top drawer. “Yeah.”
Liam leaned up, meeting his lips with Harry’s, peppering his swollen lips with soft kisses, and pushing Harry down in the spot he just laid. Harry propped his knees up, and spread his legs, letting Liam slide between them. Harry whined as Liam placed the lube and condom to his side, and instead focused on kissing the entirety of Harry’s chest. He laughed when Harry thrust his hips up, his cock meeting Liam’s chest, and placed his hands on Harry’s hips and pushed them down hard.
“Liam,” Harry said disgruntled.
“Fine,” he laughed. “Just want to remember how you taste.”
Harry felt his face drop. “This is a one-time thing?”
Liam looked up; catching the droopy expression on Harry’s face, shaking his head. “Nope, but I’ve been in love with you for a while, so I’d like to remember the first time I made you mine.”
Harry’s face almost split in two. “Y-you love me?” He was getting really sick of stuttering.
“Why do you think Danielle always said my mind was elsewhere? It was always on you.” He leaned back up, grabbed the bottle of lube at his side, opened it and squeezed a generous amount onto his fingertips. He rubbed it between his fingers, and slid his hand down past Harry’s balls. The younger boy let out a loose breath as Liam massaged his entrance with a cold middle finger. He pushed his finger in slowly, and pulled back out, and watched Harry writhe underneath him, and thought he might get off on that alone. He thrust in and out a few times with the single finger a few times, and then slid another in, curving his fingers up slightly, and hitting that bundle of nerves.
“Fuck,” Harry spit out, and Liam continued that same pattern, hitting the same spot each time, and buzzing from the sight of Harry blissed out below him. Harry’s eyes were dark and blown wide, and Liam added another finger, scissoring him open.
Liam pulled out and Harry whined pitifully at the loss. Liam slid the condom down his shaft, coated himself with some more lube, and pulled Harry towards him. “Ready?” Harry nodded quickly, and Liam lined himself up, pushing in slowly, Harry hissing as he was filled up.
Liam pushed all the way in and waited for Harry to adjust. “Move,” Harry gasped out impatiently.
Liam pulled out and pushed back in gently. Harry was so, so, so tight, and Liam hadn’t had sex this way in a long time, and the last thing he was about to push too hard into Harry. He went back and forth slowly for a few minutes, just to warm Harry up, he told himself. “Liam,” he heard Harry groan under him. “If I can walk straight for a week I’m going to be really upset.” Liam laughed and took him up on that offer.
He leaned down and met his lips with Harry’s pink, swollen ones, pulling his hips back gently and pushing back in much harder. “Yeah, Li,” Harry moaned into his mouth, and they weren’t even kissing, just moaning and whimpering into each other, and chanting mineminemine into each other’s skin as Liam thrust hard into Harry. Liam hooked his arm under Harry’s knee, raising it up over his own shoulder, giving himself a new angle as he brushed against that spot, and Harry went so limp underneath him, pleading harderharderharder, as Liam hit it with every thrust.
“Touch yourself, Harry.” Liam said, pushing his hands into Harry’s hips.
Harry was so close, that warm feeling rising up in his belly, and he could feel Liam’s hips snapping with every thrust. Harry’s hands were wrapped around Liam’s forearms, scratching roughly against his skin. He pulled them down, and wrapped his fingers around his prick, and began jerking himself in rhythm with Liam. The angle was awkward as Liam leaned back into Harry’s mouth. “So close, Li,” his throat was dry and his voice was harsh.
“Wanna see you,” Liam growled into him, and that was all it took before Harry was shooting hot, white ribbons across his chest and knuckles.
Liam’s hips snapped as he hit his orgasm as Harry clenched up around him.
Harry wrapped his legs around Liam, forcing him to fall against the mess on Harry’s chest, going soft inside him. “Just be still for a minute,” Harry whispered, his heart beating hard against Liam’s chest. He could stay like this forever, he thought.
Liam chuckled, running the pads of his fingers up and down Harry’s sides, feeling him shudder beneath him. “You should have taken a bath four years ago.”