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It started with Harry on his knees. Mouth plush and wet around Zayn’s cock, eyes closed and lashes dark.
They’d done this—just this—before, more than a few times, but Zayn still wasn’t used to it, how good it was. He was wound-up and restless all over from the feeling of it, toes curling and thighs tensing, his hands petting at Harry’s hair, squeezing the back of his neck, slipping beneath Harry’s collar to touch his hot skin while Harry sucked him off.
Zayn mumbled nonsense to him, encouragements barely heard over the telly still on low in the background. Usually he coaxed Harry into letting him fuck deep into his mouth, Zayn’s hips rolling slow and gentle so Harry could take it without choking, the slick, tender clutch of his throat sheathing tight around the head of Zayn’s cock over and over until he came.
But Zayn was thinking they might not get to that this time. He was close already, smearing precome all over the inside of Harry’s mouth.
Zayn’s head tipped backwards against the sofa, breath coming out shakily, close—
And then Harry pulled off, an unmoving hand wrapped around Zayn’s spit-slippery cock.
Zayn groaned, craning his head back up to look down at Harry, knowing the frustration was obvious on his face.
Harry’s mouth was dark pink, almost bruised-looking, when he said, “You should fuck me.”
“What?” Zayn panted. They had never talked about it before, all the times they’d done this. He’d never done that, not with a bloke.
“Will you?” Harry said, eyes dark and glinting in the dim light. Then he stroked Zayn’s cock, a teasing, steady bounce of his fist.
Zayn jerked at the sensation, foot twitching against Harry’s knee. “Okay…? I can do that,” he said, like the feel of Harry’s hand on him was dragging the words out. He just wanted to come.
Zayn sat next to Harry on the bed, just watching as Harry got himself ready.
After a few minutes he gave Harry’s bare knee a tentative touch, eyes on Harry’s fingers between his legs, slick with lube and pressing inside, his dick already stiff.
Zayn glanced up at Harry’s face and his gaze got caught there. Harry looked like he was already halfway to well-shagged, pink all the way down his chest and across his cheeks, eyes glassy. Just from riding his own fingers.
“You really want to,” Zayn said. Meant as a question, but he wasn’t sure it came out that way.
“Uh huh,” Harry slurred, and then he slipped his fingers away, rolling onto his hands and knees.
Zayn rose to his own knees behind Harry, steadying them both with a hand to Harry’s hip. He stalled for a second, just letting Harry wait, and then he couldn’t help himself. He landed an open-handed smack on Harry’s arse, a sudden slap. Harry took in a sharp breath and dropped his face to the bed, bum still in the air.
Zayn grinned and slapped him again, letting his hand linger after it made contact. He palmed the curve of Harry’s arse, gave him a squeeze. Harry whined and then his hand disappeared beneath him, arm moving in a rhythm. Zayn realized he was wanking.
“Don’t go off before I’m even in you.”
He grasped his cock and pressed it to the cleft of Harry’s arse, felt the tip of it slide up against his hole.
Zayn tried to go slow, tried to ease into it because Harry was tight, but he was so wet that Zayn’s cock just slid right up into him.
“Fuck,” Zayn muttered. He took Harry’s hips in both hands and fucked him deep a few times, chasing the dizzying feeling of it before his brain caught up with what he was doing.
He stopped, body curved over Harry’s. He rested his forehead between Harry’s shoulder blades and just held there, breathing hard through his mouth.
“All right?” he asked Harry.
Harry was panting, letting out these low sounds each time he exhaled. “God,” Harry mumbled. His voice was deep. “Yeah, ‘s’good.” He pressed back, an insistent shove onto Zayn’s cock.
Zayn took the hint, straightened up so he could fuck him properly. Harry was so slick inside and hot, and—Zayn was bare in him, there was nothing between them.
Zayn looked down, saw the length of his cock slide out and then sink back in, swelling even harder as he watched. He wasn’t going to last long. Still primed from the blowjob and nearly mindless with how it felt being inside Harry like this.
Harry was starting to sweat at the small of his back, his arm still flexing with the movement of his hand as he wanked himself. He kept moaning quietly like it was being jolted out of him with each thrust, going louder when Zayn fucked him harder.
Zayn hoped Harry was close too. He felt his own self-control slipping, unable to keep himself from going at it faster. Harry was this tight heat around him. It was intense, made Zayn feel like he’d be in a haze the rest of the night.
Just then Harry started to go tighter around him and Zayn swore, riding into him quick and ragged. Harry’s little moaning sounds went sharp, louder, and then he was coming. Zayn could feel it from the inside, these sweet little pulses around his cock.
“Jesus, Harry,” Zayn grunted under his breath, letting his body curl around Harry’s again.
Harry was breathing heavy, coming down. He was pliant now but he kept his knees under him, staying in place for Zayn.
Zayn couldn’t hold off after that. It was a quick build of pleasure that had him groaning, the shift of his hips going crude and greedy. He wrapped his hand around Harry’s shoulder to hold him still as he dicked into him deep and came, base of his cock throbbing against the tightness of Harry’s body as he shot off.
Zayn gave himself a few seconds to try and get his wits about him before he pulled out and rolled heavily onto his back next to Harry.
Harry just collapsed down onto the bed, and the first thing he said was, “Thank you,” all breathless and dopey and happy. Zayn exhaled a soft, surprised laugh and brushed his knuckles down Harry’s side.
They settled, laid there a few minutes as Harry idly traced the tattoo on Zayn’s arm with his thumb, both of them quiet until they were breathing normal again.
“You need the shower first?” Zayn asked. He’d left Harry a bit of a mess.
“Will in a sec,” Harry said, but he didn’t look as though he wanted to move at all, laid out on his belly with his head pillowed on his arm.
“Sorry,” Zayn murmured. “Suppose I could’ve, like, pulled out.”
Harry shook his head. “It was worth it.”
“Yeah?”
“I liked it,” Harry said. He paused, blinking slowly, a satisfied little smile on his face. “Right before you finished, I felt you, could tell you were about to,“ he rambled, breathing out. “You went sort of selfish? Like you couldn’t help it, but… that’s what I like about it. Knowing you’re using me to get off—make yourself come really hard.” His hips flexed against the bed. “I love that.”
Zayn had been asking out of some detached curiosity, but now his skin was going hot all over, dick starting to fill out again.
He thought about that moment. How he’d held Harry in place and rutted into him as he was coming, making it good for himself.
Knowing Harry had focused on that, liked it too—
Zayn swallowed hard and blinked up the ceiling, rubbing a hand over his chest and sighing out audibly like he was still trying to get his breath back.
“Zayn?” Harry’s voice was low, hand warm as it wrapped around Zayn’s bicep.
Zayn looked over at him. Sweat was glowing on Harry’s skin, his hair damp-dark and loose against the sheets.
“Can we do it again?” Harry asked.
Harry stayed on his stomach this time, arse tilted up for it when Zayn pressed his cock back into him.
Zayn draped himself over Harry, their bare skin sliding soft together. They were sheened over with sweat and almost too warm, but all Zayn could focus on was the feel of his hips pressed to the curve of Harry’s arse, his cock held tight inside.
He trembled, started to move. He tried not to hurry it, tried to let Harry really feel the length of him, but the urgency was still there. He still felt hectic with how much he wanted this, just how amazing it felt.
A long, desperate sound vibrated in Zayn’s chest. He let instinct take over, going at it faster, taking what he needed and feeling nearly drugged with it.
The noises Harry was making were just a bit different now, higher and raw-sounding like he was sore, but he was eager under Zayn, arching into it.
Zayn could feel his come slicking Harry up inside. It made it even smoother each time he drove his cock into him, an obscene glide. Harry’s body was this supple heat squeezing around Zayn’s cock, like Zayn was opening him up for the first time with every thrust.
When they did this again, Zayn was going to put Harry on his back so he could see him, see his face while he shagged him. He thought back to how Harry looked earlier, fingering himself open, how blushed up and wrecked his expression was. And his mouth had been parted, still swollen pink from sucking Zayn off. Next time they did this Zayn wanted to be able to get to Harry’s mouth. Kiss him, feel Harry’s tongue sliding hot against his as he fucked him.
Zayn reared back, held his hand flat to Harry’s shoulder to leverage himself and ride his dick into Harry fast while he pinned him to the bed. He looked down between their bodies to watch himself pistoning in. It was mental that Harry could take him like this, tight around the width of Zayn’s cock and moaning for it even when Zayn went rough.
Zayn faltered, throwing off his own pace, trying to buy some time. He thought he’d be able to hold out longer this time, but he was still sensitive and Harry was all come-slippery inside, hotter.
“Harry,” he said, heaving a breath and slowing to a stop.
Harry buried his face against the bed, voice muffled when he said, “Don’t stop—”
Harry’s words were cut off when Zayn starting moving again right away, picking up where he’d left off, hard and quick.
“Fuck,” Zayn muttered. “You feel too good.”
The sound Harry made at that was loud, kind of dazed and high.
“I’m gonna,” Zayn breathed, barely able to get the words out. “Gonna come in you again.”
Harry practically whimpered, hand tightening in the sheets.
Zayn’s rhythm stuttered as he started to come, staggered by the rush of sensation. His thrusts went uneven, shoving deep into Harry with each wave of it, drawing it out into something overwhelming. And the fact that Harry wanted it like this, was getting off on it too – Zayn felt feverish with the knowledge of it, leaving Harry even more of a mess as he rode out every last bit of his orgasm.
Even after he stopped coming, Zayn couldn’t stop himself from fucking in a few more times and it was almost too much—he was so sensitive, his limbs going weak. He pressed his face to the back of Harry’s neck. He nearly wanted to laugh with how good he felt, light-headed and a bit daft from coming so hard twice in a row.
He eventually glanced at Harry. Harry’s face was turned aside, eyes closed and mouth curved with a small smile even as he panted.
Zayn bit Harry’s shoulder, a playful nip of teeth before he soothed it with a lazy kiss, lips skimming against Harry’s skin. Harry gave a sleepy hum of approval that rumbled into something uncomfortable when Zayn eased out of him.
“C’mon, lad,” Zayn said. “Let’s go wash up.”
Harry made a face. “Moving right now is a terrible idea. The worst.”
Zayn nearly agreed, feeling boneless. “How ‘bout we wash up quick then kip over in your room?” he said, running a slow hand up and down the long line of Harry’s back. “And then we’ll start all over again in the morning.”
That pleased look was back on Harry’s face. He rolled his face against the bedding, nuzzling in for a second before he finally started to get up and follow.