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Jeff places a glass of water on the bedside table next to the baby monitor. Harry’s dozing on their bed with a sleeping Jude on his chest.
“Is he out?” Jeff asks.
“Cold,” Harry says, cracking his eyes open. “I don’t wanna move, though. I might wake him up.”
“He’ll be fine. C’mon, you don’t wanna start bad habits.”
Reluctantly, Harry gets up. He loves napping with the babies, but the doctor has already lectured Harry numerous times about how they need to sleep on their own. So he moves very gingerly and Jude isn’t jostled too much. Besides a little snuffle, he barely stirs.
Jeff strips down to his boxers and t-shirt while Harry puts Jude down the hall. Their bed hasn’t been made in weeks and he can’t remember the last time the sheets were changed. But when he slides in under the covers, it smells familiar and comfortable, with traces of Harry’s shampoo and new baby, and tiny hints of Jeff’s own cologne. Harry’s side of the bed is still body-warm.
He practically melts into the mattress when he stretches out, like his whole body is sighing in relief. His exhaustion runs bone-deep lately. He’s certain that Harry is experiencing the same thing. Being woken up multiple times during the night takes its toll on you. At least Jeff is able to sneak little catnaps when Jude needs to be fed; Harry isn’t so lucky.
That’s why when the house is quiet like this, they have recently joined the school of “ When the babies sleep, we sleep .” It’s almost Pavlovian, how silence can make their eyes droop.
Harry pads back into their bedroom, sliding a hand over his face before collapsing onto the bed like a starfish, bouncing Jeff a little. He lets out a long breath through his lips, making a noise like a raspberry.
“I hope he sleeps better today. And that Eli doesn’t wake him up again.”
“I hope so too,” Jeff agrees. He props himself up on his side and strokes a hand over Harry’s chest, feeling out the bumps of his ribs and his warm skin through his shirt.
“Do you think we should put them in separate rooms?” Harry turns his head to look at Jeff.
“Nah. They’re too little. We also don’t have a third bedroom.”
“We could . That nice house down the road still has the for sale sign out front.”
“I think you are very sleep deprived, Harry Styles. We’d have to sell our livers to afford that. And I kinda like having my liver, you know, in my body?”
Harry turns on his side and scoots closer to Jeff, strokes his thumb below his ear. “We could make it work,” he murmurs. “Once I’m off paternity leave we’ll have a bit more money.”
“Why don’t we take it one day at a time, hm? We can talk about it later.”
Harry pulls the covers up over them and tucks himself under Jeff’s chin. “Okay.”
He stays quiet for a few minutes, just the sound of their breathing barely audible. Jeff thinks he must have fallen asleep until Harry, somewhat shyly, asks, “How long do you think we have until they wake up?”
Confused, he counters, “What time is it?”
Harry pokes his head over Jeff’s shoulder to check the alarm clock behind him. “Three thirty-two.”
“They slept until a little after four yesterday, right? And they didn’t nap for very long this morning.”
“Mhm.”
“So maybe four-fifteen? If we’re lucky?”
Harry hesitates, biting his lip, not meeting Jeff’s eyes. “Do you wanna…. you know.”
Jeff can’t help but snort, except Harry’s being so unlike himself that he instantly feels bad, especially when Harry’s cheeks bloom a fiery red.
“What are you asking for, H?” he gentles.
Burying his face in his hands, Harry whines, “You know what I’m trying to say. Do you want me to spell it out for you?”
Jeff tries to pry his hands away but he won’t budge. “Hey, relax. I just wanna be on the same page here.”
Harry hesitates. “Do you not... want to?”
“Of course I do. I just don’t want to do anything you might be uncomfortable with.”
“‘M fine. I’m not really sore anymore.”
“No?”
“Like, my chest is, sometimes. But not too bad.”
“You sure?”
“I’m not lying to you, Jeff.”
“I didn’t say you were. Just wanted to check.”
Harry tilts his face up for a kiss, cupping Jeff’s jaw. He looks at Jeff for a few moments while Jeff watches Harry’s face in return, paying careful attention to the play-by-play of different emotions that scatter across his features, going from nervous to determined.
Nodding almost imperceptibly to himself, Harry says, “I love you. You’re very attentive. But I really want to blow you.”
Jeff smirks. “And they say romance is dead.”
Harry raises his eyebrows and slides a hand down Jeff’s front, rubbing over his boxers with a wide flat palm. He drops his voice so it’s low and rumbly. “So. Are you gonna let me?”
“Jesus christ,” Jeff sighs. “Yeah, I-- of course.” Harry makes him feel like a bumbling idiot sometimes, especially when he gets in moods like this: horny and focusing all of his attention on Jeff.
Harry swings a leg over Jeff’s hips, so he’s straddling him, pushes Jeff’s t-shirt up his chest and leans down to kiss over his sternum, fingers scratching lightly through the hair there.
He makes his way down like that, leaving a trail of kisses, bites, and licks in his wake, rolling his own hips forward in tiny thrusts, while Jeff can only lie there and squeeze at Harry’s shoulders, tug at his hair to hear him moan low in his throat, and lift one of his knees slightly to give Harry something more firm to grind down on.
By the time Harry reaches his dick, Jeff feels like he’s ready to explode, sweating around his collar and temples, his hips moving on their own accord.
Harry’s eyes are closed; he always gets really into giving head, takes his time, luxuriates in it. Outside of heats there’s really not anything about their sex life that feels explicitly gender-based. Harry being an omega is often at the back of his mind, not even a thing he thinks about consciously anymore. Except for situations like these, when it’s so clear to him that Harry’s main focus is pleasing Jeff and making him feel good. Harry’s own pleasure is secondary, merely an extension of Jeff’s, moaning in response to each of Jeff’s moans, grunting like it’s his cock that’s being touched when he finally takes Jeff into his warm wet mouth.
He hasn’t even bothered to take Jeff’s boxers all the way off, just pulled the waistband down enough to get him out. He doesn’t try to go down very far on the first go, starting with gentle suction around the tip, swirling his tongue over the slit, using one of his hands to cup Jeff’s balls, thumbing over them softly. He’s gentle about it, making sure that it’s not too much right away.
Harry looks reverent. It’s been so long since they’ve done this, paid any attention to each other-- just them, and no babies, talk or otherwise. They work like a well-oiled machine lately, finally in the swing of taking care of the boys. But it hasn’t really left a lot of room for intimacy. They’re exhausted most of the time, their bed having turned into a place for strictly sleeping. Jeff has missed this; not just this act in particular, no matter how spectacular Harry’s mouth is, but just being close to him in general.
Harry moves his head up and down in steady bobs, bringing his other hand up to hold the base of Jeff’s dick steady, incrementally sliding his lips down further until he’s almost reaching his own fingers.
It feels incredible. It always does, but this is different somehow. Jeff can barely think but he knows he can’t even blame it on just the amount of time since they’ve done this. They have a family together now. Jeff has a ring in his sock drawer that he’s waiting to put on Harry’s finger. And this man, the one who’s given him children, the one he wants to marry, is acting like his dick is the best thing he’s ever had in his mouth.
Jeff’s thighs are twitching with every moan Harry lets out, the vibration going through him like a live wire. He’s worried that he won’t last very long.
Harry’s set a steady pace now, getting comfortable with his mouth halfway down Jeff’s cock, making full use of his tongue, pausing to press the head into his cheek or to let it rub across the ridges on the roof of his mouth, using his warm hand to jack what isn’t in his mouth. It’s wet but not sloppy -- Harry’s preferred method -- drooling over his dick, letting any spit that sneaks past the tight ring of his lips slide down the shaft, making the glide easy but with just enough friction. He lets go of Harry’s hair and uses his grip on the sheets as an outlet, afraid of hurting him.
Harry’s hips are still rocking when Jeff glances down at him, now laid flat, his chest resting on Jeff’s legs, keeping him pinned where he wants him. There’s probably a wet patch on the front of his sweatpants that Jeff can’t wait to see, can’t wait to touch and get his mouth on, smell and taste Harry’s arousal in its purest form. The anticipation from just the thought is enough to make his hips jump. It surprises Harry, who gags but doesn’t pull off, only taking a second to pause and get his bearings back, sending a quick glance up to Jeff with a smile in his eyes. Then he’s doubling down his efforts, sucking more firmly and moving his mouth a bit quicker.
Jeff has to get his hands in Harry’s hair again, needs another point of contact that isn’t his cock. He lets go of the sheets to reach down and tug on the short hairs at the back of Harry’s head, still long enough to thread his fingers through, and pulls harder on the curls near his crown, knows that Harry likes it. True to form, Harry’s seems to lose himself for a moment, his eyelids fluttering and his mouth going slack.
When he comes back to himself he looks up at Jeff from under his lashes again, his eyes nearly all blown black pupil, only a sliver of green remaining. He makes a show of unwrapping his fingers from around Jeff’s cock, moving slowly and carefully, placing both hands on Jeff’s thighs, fingers nearly reaching his hips. He starts to slide his mouth down again and just doesn’t stop, taking Jeff into the velvety heat of his throat. Jeff watches with his own mouth hanging open, sees Harry’s eyes start to fill up as he gags for a second time, but still doesn’t pull off. He’s might be out of practice but he’s not deterred.
Harry keeps Jeff there for a few seconds at a time, his eye contact only interrupted by his blinks when his eyes get too full, sending tears down his cheeks in shiny rivulets. He’s breathing loudly through his nose, warm puffs hitting the skin near the base of Jeff’s cock when he’s down all the way. He hums each time he pulls off, making Jeff tense so he doesn’t lose control of his hips again.
Jeff can only handle it a few more times before he needs something else, something quicker and less intense. He uses his hand in Harry’s hair to pull him up, his mouth sliding off with a pop . Harry’s brows furrow in confusion.
He coughs when Jeff’s dick falls back down onto his stomach, reaching up to wipe off his own mouth. His voice is rough and crackly when he speaks, pausing to clear his throat before he continues. “Is it good?”
“So good, babe,” Jeff assures him stroking a thumb over his damp cheek. “So, so good. I’m just gonna come soon.”
“You can come in my mouth?” Harry suggests.
“As lovely as that offer is, that’s not where I want to come.”
Harry blinks. “Oh.” He looks confused for a moment before he seems to realize something. “ Oh .”
Before Jeff can ask what’s he’s thinking, Harry is sitting up, kneeling between Jeff’s legs, his dick a hard line under his sweatpants, looking down at his own hands, wringing them together. “I, uhm. I know earlier you said-- you wanna make sure I’m comfortable, but uh, I don’t know if I want to do that. For now. Just--”
“Hey, whoa. What’re you talking about, kid?” Jeff says, sitting up and placing a hand on one of Harry’s knees.
The mood from just a few moments ago feels broken. Harry looks guilty , of all things, and Jeff is wondering what he could have possibly said to elicit this reaction from him.
Harry won’t look at him when he speaks. “I’m just not ready to do that quite yet.”
Jeff is confused. “Do what, babe? I’m-- I’m not sure I’m following here.”
Harry huffs, crossing his arms tightly around himself. “I don’t want to have sex right now.”
Jeff almost reminds him that they were having sex, literally just a few minutes ago, but he understands what Harry means. Harry’s cleary not in the mood for an argument over semantics.
Jeff gets his knees under himself and scoots closer to Harry, pulling him in for a hug and a firm kiss on the mouth. He feels kind of silly with his dick out, still hard but flagging a little given the circumstances. He just has other priorities at the moment.
“That wasn’t what I meant.” Jeff pauses. It all feels a little... crunchy, but he feels like Harry needs to hear it. “I want you to know that I completely understand and fully respect your decisions. I would never expect something like that from you. You should know that.”
Harry buries his face in Jeff’s neck, his lashes tickling where they brush against his skin, and lets out a long sigh. “Jesus. ‘M sorry. I just assumed…”
Jeff rubs his shoulders. “That’s okay. I’m glad you told me anyway. You can tell me these things, H. I want to know about them.”
Jeff can feel him smile. Almost idly, Harry reaches for Jeff’s dick in between them, starting with a loose grip and a gentle rhythm after the momentary lapse in contact. Jeff closes his eyes and breathes out onto the top of Harry’s head where his cheek is resting. Back to business, then.
“So,” Harry murmurs. “Where do you want to come?”
Jeff huffs a quick laugh. “At this point? Anywhere.”
“Anywhere, huh?”
Jeff pulls back and gives him an unamused look. Harry has that silly smirk on his face, his cheeks a good, warm pink.
Taking Harry’s hand off his dick, he ushers Harry back down on the bed. “Here, just-- lie back, please.”
Harry does as he’s told, but not without a bit of lip first. “You gonna go all caveman on me?”
“Can you shush for two seconds? Or I’m gonna send you off to take a cold shower instead of returning the favor.” He pointedly strokes his thumb over the dark spot of clinging wet fabric on the front of Harry’s sweatpants near his hip.
Harry lets out a shaky breath and grins, pushing up into the touch before Jeff takes his hand away. Jeff would never do that to him, and it’s written all over Harry’s face that he’s well aware.
Jeff starts to pull his own shirt off, still damp with sweat, and kicks off his boxers before kneeing his way between Harry’s legs. “C’mon slowpoke. Get your clothes off.” He pinches the hem of Harry’s shirt.
After helping Harry pull his shirt over his head, Jeff slides his sweats off for him, urging him to lift his hips up, and then throws them somewhere on the floor.
Jeff takes a moment to admire Harry laid out in front of him, in all of his postpartum glory. Even though Jeff sees him naked every day -- because if there’s one thing that Harry isn’t shy about, it’s nudity -- he still takes in his fill now, excited and not sure where to touch first.
Because this isn’t Harry standing bare-assed in their bathroom putting lotion on his belly to help with stretch marks. Or asking Jeff to come look at a mole on his back after getting out of the shower. This is Harry who’s hard and waiting for Jeff to make the first move, lying very patiently, anticipation written all over his face.
Jeff starts by sliding his palms up Harry’s thighs, against the grain of hair, fascinated by how he immediately breaks out in goosebumps, his dick flexing on his stomach and smearing wet there, just from that simple touch. He takes the opposite of the path that Harry took earlier, slowly inching upwards, skirting around the dark thatch of his pubes, bypassing his cock entirely, to lean down and nip gently at his lower belly.
Harry embraced all of the changes his body went through for the boys and Jeff feels very lucky that Harry isn’t shying away from the attention, when Jeff kisses over the little pouch he’s been sporting lately, and the jagged pink lines that he wears proudly.
He sighs dreamily as Jeff moves up his belly, but sucks in air through his teeth when Jeff licks over a nipple. When Jeff glances at him he’s wincing.
“What’s the matter? Do they hurt?”
Harry goes pink all the way to the tips of his ears, staring at the ceiling. “No,” he hesitates. “I-- just don’t, please.”
“Okay. No-touch zone. Got it.”
Jeff focuses on other parts instead, like the soft skin covering his ribs, making him squirm because he’s ticklish, and the soft pads of his hips, fuller now with the baby weight he hasn’t bothered to try and lose yet. Jeff secretly hopes that he won’t ever try to lose it.
Harry is pleased with Jeff’s ministrations, letting out a steady stream of happy little noises, moaning louder when Jeff does something he especially likes. Jeff noticed him pushing his dick up to meet him a while ago, but he’s been purposefully ignoring it. He has plans, and those plans include getting Harry as worked up as possible. And nothing winds Harry up more than feeling like he has to work for an orgasm.
Before he does anything, though, Jeff lays himself over Harry completely, being careful not to put his full weight on him, but so that he’s face-level with him.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” Harry says, wrapping his arms around Jeff’s shoulders. “Can I have a kiss, please?”
Harry opens up for him right away, letting Jeff lead, but not passive either, curling their tongues together and biting Jeff’s bottom lip gently, giving it a tug. Harry’s dick is so wet between them that it’s transferred onto Jeff’s stomach. Once Harry starts having heats again, he’ll be wet between his legs, too. For now, though, this is more than enough.
When Jeff pulls away from his mouth, Harry lets out a needy whine, his eyes fluttering open, lower lip pouting out. Jeff resumes his original position, kneeling in between Harry’s legs, using his hands to push his knees up and out, watching Harry’s face.
Harry trusts him; that much is clear. His gaze is unwavering, a small smile on his face.
“Can I touch you here?” Jeff asks, slowly dragging his fingers over Harry’s balls and behind them, past the hot smooth skin there and the small, barely noticeable bump of his scar from delivery, stopping just before he reaches the tight furl of his hole.
Harry swallows and breathes out, “Yes.”
Jeff rubs over him with a dry fingertip more firmly, feeling him tighten up in response, watching his ribs rise and fall as he takes deep, measured breaths.
“Good?” Jeff checks, waits for Harry to nod. “Good. Can I do something for you?”
Harry nods again, shifting his hips, but he doesn’t question him.
With the go-ahead, Jeff grabs a pillow from the top of the bed and gets it under Harry’s lower back. When he’s satisfied with how he’s propped up, he slides down until he’s flat on his stomach and hooks Harry’s legs over his shoulders.
He hears Harry’s breathing pick up. Curiously, he peers up at him. Harry looks hesitant again, twisting his mouth.
“I haven’t shaved or anything in like, months,” Harry blurts.
Jeff blinks at him, holding back a laugh. “That’s fine. You know I don’t care.”
“No Jeff, I’m serious. Months .”
“...Okay. As I said, I don’t care. You showered earlier. I know you bathe regularly and practice good hygiene.” He pauses and widens his eyes when he says, “Remember that time a couple years ago when you had puke in your hair? If that didn’t stop me then, this isn’t gonna stop me.”
Harry fails at trying to fight off a smile. “You’re killing the mood.”
“What? Vomit talk isn’t sexy?”
“Not particularly, no.”
“I just want to do something for you that I know you like. Or, I mean-- I think you like it.“
“Of course I like it. I just don't want you to be grossed out.”
“The only thing gross about you is your weird toes. Now do you want me to or not? Because if you don't want it, I'm not gonna be offended or anything.” Jeff places a kiss on his soft inner thigh for emphasis.
“Don't make fun of my toes, they're very sensitive.”
Jeff pretends to be exasperated. “All right, kid. Is that a yes or a no?”
Harry rolls his eyes, still smiling. “Yes. Go ahead, if you must.”
“Okay, your highness. Now, here. Hold your legs up-- thank you.”
It’s easier for Jeff to get to work with Harry spread out like this. He has a perfect view of everything, can see Harry visibly clench when he gets close enough to breathe warmly over the duskiness of his hole.
He keeps his mouth soft to press a dry kiss there, putting his hands over Harry’s hips to keep him anchored. Harry places one of his hands over Jeff’s and slides the other into his hair, tugging to urge him closer, all of his apprehension seemingly gone.
The first lick makes Harry clamp his legs tight around Jeff’s ears. He rubs his thumb over his hip bone and Harry immediately relaxes.
“Sorry,” Harry whispers.
“You’re fine” Jeff says, and delves back in.
He gets him wet right away, so he can slide his tongue easier over the crinkled skin there, making a bit of a mess because he knows Harry likes it, confident after years of doing this for him.
Harry’s loud during sex and this is no exception; switching back and forth between grunts from low in his throat, some of them getting cut off halfway, and high whimpers that sound like they’re being forced out of him. All good sounds.
Jeff keeps steady pressure with his tongue and establishes a good rhythm, letting Harry ride down onto his face when he needs to, pleased that Harry is enjoying himself. He let go of his legs at some point, and opts for pulling on Jeff’s hair instead, so hard that the pain has actually transformed into a comfortable numbness. Every sound Harry makes goes straight to Jeff’s dick, trapped against the sheets and just as hard as before. He can wait, though.
It’s like the most filthy, satisfying type of kiss, feeling Harry clench and unclench under his tongue, feeling him get loose enough that Jeff can press inside, the muscles of Harry’s inner thighs jumping by his cheeks, brushing up against his jaw.
Harry was worried about not shaving, but Jeff now remembers the state of the hair on his face, a day’s worth of scruff that must be scraping up Harry’s skin. He’ll be pink and sore later.
Harry lets out his loudest moan yet when Jeff finally touches his cock, sliding his palm over the head and smearing his precome around, pressing him down against his lower belly. He immediately pushes his hips up, trying to rub his trapped dick against the firmness of Jeff’s hand. Jeff anticipates his squirming and moves with him, continuing the steady massage with his tongue, moving further up to the skin below his balls, skimming his lips over his tiny pink scar. Harry whines, overwhelmed.
He sounds good like this. Jeff feels like a bird with its feathers puffed out, proud of himself for reducing Harry to nonsensical noises and bodily twitches. When he uses a thumb to press on his taint, putting pressure on his prostate from the outside, Harry’s whole body goes tense, and the noises spilling out of his mouth shift from pleasure to pain in the blink of an eye.
Jeff immediately pulls away.
“I’m sorry, did I hurt--”
“Cramp,” Harry says through his teeth, his hands flying down to grab at his own thigh. “Leg cramp.”
Jeff laughs in relief. He sits up and urges Harry’s legs down to stretch him out a bit.
“Better?” Jeff asks.
“A little,” he winces, pushing his damp hair out of his face, his forehead shiny with sweat.
Jeff kneads at his thigh for a minute, easing the knot with his fingers. “How about now?”
“Much,” he sighs. “I’m so mad. I was so close, too.”
“Yeah?” Jeff abandons his thigh in favor of wrapping his hand around Harry’s cock. “Wanna try again? Let me get you off?”
“Why don’t we both get off? You didn’t get to finish yet either.”
“That’s okay. How about you flip over?” Jeff suggests.
Harry smirks over his shoulder, getting into position. “Hands and knees?”
“However you’re gonna be most comfortable.”
“Can I lay down, then?”
“Of course.”
Jeff helps Harry get situated again, stretched out lengthwise with the same pillow under his hips, giving him something to thrust into. Shouldering his way back between Harry’s spread legs, Jeff wastes no time before licking into the cleft of him again. In this position he can keep him open, spreading his cheeks in two small handfuls.
It doesn’t take long for Harry to get back on track, gripping the pillow under his head and moaning into it. He keeps grinding down, seeming caught between wanting to thrust back against Jeff’s face and into the bed, his whimpering gaining a frustrated edge. Jeff changes the pace of his mouth and tongue, speeding up and increasing the pressure a bit, satisfied when he feels the muscles of Harry’s ass tighten under his palms.
“I’m--” Harry cuts himself off with a whine before swallowing audibly and continuing, “Gonna come.”
Jeff hums his approval into Harry’s skin, powering through his sore jaw and keeping things steady and quick. In turn, Harry picks up the speed of his thrusting, grinding down onto the pillow even more enthusiastically.
“Gonna…” Harry sighs, his whole body moving frantically before going completely still. Jeff gentles his mouth but keeps licking and massaging while Harry shakes through his orgasm, tiny sounds getting caught in his throat while he rides it out, white-knuckled grip on the pillow.
Jeff pulls away when Harry starts to twitch from oversensitivity, noises going sharp and short. With one final shiver, Harry comes down fully and starts to laugh.
Smiling, Jeff can’t help but ask, “What’s so funny?” He moves up the bed to lay down next to him, stroking a hand down his damp spine.
Harry keeps his eyes closed, his cheeks a hectic pink, full and round from the grin that’s taking over his whole face. “I feel… so fucking good right now,” he lets out in one breath.
Jeff kisses his forehead. “I’m glad.”
“I missed that.”
“You’ll inflate my ego if you’re not careful.”
Harry cracks his eyes open. “You were great, but I was talking about like, in general.”
“Me too.”
“I haven’t jerked off since-- God , before the boys were born. You remember. That time in the shower?”
Jeff’s eyebrows furrow. That’s like… four months time. “Really? Not even once since then?”
Harry snorts. “Been kinda busy. Don’t know if you noticed.”
“Understood.”
The baby monitor on the bedside table crackles for a moment and both Harry and Jeff hold their breath. Thankfully, it goes quiet again and they relax.
Harry stretches for a second, pointing his toes and flexing his back. “Christ, sorry I’m so useless right now. I feel like I’m made of jelly.”
“That’s fine. I’m actually feeling quite smug right now.”
Harry flicks him on the nose. “I can tell. I promise I won’t leave you hanging. I just need a few seconds.”
“I can be patient.”
They lie together in comfortable silence for a bit. Harry’s breathing goes back to normal and his flush fades. When he finally rolls over to get rid of the pillow under his hips, he groans. “What the-- ‘m all wet.”
“Yeah, that typically happens when you come all over yourself.”
“No-- Jeff, look.”
Jeff props himself up on an elbow, looking where Harry directs him. Harry’s chest is vaguely shiny and sticky, all the way down to his belly, but it doesn’t look like come.
“Is that…” Jeff trails off.
Harry inhales sharply, closing his eyes in embarrassment, covering his chest with crossed arms. “Oh my god.”
Jeff swallows. “What’s the issue? We read about this. It’s normal. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Yeah but--”
“No buts. C’mere.”
With a good-natured sigh, Harry comes easily when Jeff pulls him down, collapsing over his chest. “You’re sexy, did you know that? Everything about you is. See? I’m still hard despite being completely ignored --”
Harry kisses him quiet, laughing into it so he nearly blows a raspberry on Jeff’s mouth. “Idiot,” he mumbles. “What do you want, then? If you’re gonna be a big baby about it.”
“Gentleman’s choice,” Jeff says while grabbing a handful of Harry’s backside, squeezing lightly.
Harry considers it for a moment, looking upwards and tapping a finger on his chin, like he’s really weighing his options. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m still feeling pretty lazy. But I can suck you off again? Finish the way we started?”
“You’re a dream,” Jeff says emphatically.
Harry flops over again so he’s almost sitting up with his back against the headboard, fluffing the pillows around him so he’s supported, and then has Jeff straddle him, putting Jeff’s dick level with his face.
Harry licks his lips before wrapping his hand around the base and tugging Jeff forward gently so he can get his mouth on him again. It’s abrupt for a few seconds, the lush heat of Harry’s mouth after having no contact but the rough sheets. Jeff’s vision goes spotty for a moment, knees feeling wobbly, and he slides a hand into Harry’s hair to steady himself while he moans.
He has so much pent-up arousal running through him that it doesn’t take very much or very long to get him close again. Harry is a champ, clearly sleepy from his own orgasm, but still making an effort to suck Jeff just as good as before, meeting his fingers of the hand wrapped around the base and humming throughout. He doesn’t take him into his throat this time, but it doesn’t matter. All Harry has to do is keep up the rhythm he’s started and move his tongue the way he has been, curling and caressing all of the spots he knows Jeff likes.
Jeff has to consciously remind himself to hold back from thrusting into Harry’s mouth. It just feels so good that he’s having a hard time. When he does it by accident, he apologizes immediately and Harry just looks up at him, his eyes saying a nonverbal It’s okay. The second time it happens, Harry pinches his hip but still keeps bobbing his head. Finally, the third time he does it, it makes Harry cough and gag, forcing him to pull off with rapidly filling eyes.
“I really want you to fuck me right now. Just-- not tonight. I’m sorry,” Harry croaks.
Jeff nearly gets whiplash, not expecting those words to come out of Harry’s mouth. He has to take a few deep breaths and try not to urge Harry to move his hand or just-- do something . “Please don’t apologize for that, Harry. You literally have nothing to be sorry for. I told you earlier that I don’t care.”
“But don’t you miss it?” Harry asks softly, still stroking Jeff slowly.
“Yeah,” Jeff gasps. “But it’s not what’s most important to me. I’d like to think that this entire relationship doesn’t hinge on penetrative sex.”
Harry wrinkles his nose, stopping the motion of his hand. “Don’t use the word penetrative, please.”
“One condition.”
Harry raises his eyebrows expectantly. Jeff continues, “You finish what you started here, please .”
Harry’s eyes go wide like he genuinely forgot what he was doing, his grip on Jeff’s cock going from completely slack to warm and tight again. “Sorry! Sorry. Here--” he starts jerking him off again and licks the head of his cock with his tongue flattened. He asks, “You wanna come on my face?”
“Christ” Jeff breathes. Harry is really going at it, using his hand in tandem with his mouth, the tightness perfect and just the right amount of wetness so the friction is stomach-shivery. “Yeah, I-- Yeah.”
“You close?”
“Mhm,” Jeff tapers off into a moan. “Just, keep going. Yeah . Like that.”
Harry does as requested, and it’s the way he looks up at Jeff with a tiny, private smile on his face that sends Jeff over the edge. Harry tugs him through it, grabbing at Jeff’s ass to pull him forward, tilting his face up with his eyes closed to catch the first spurts. They land on his cheeks, making the skin there jump even though he’s clearly expecting it. The rest pulses out more slowly, coating his lips and chin. Harry sneaks his tongue out for a taste and Jeff feels his toes go numb, it’s so hot.
Harry slides his hand up over the head for the very last of it, sucks him into his mouth briefly to clean him up before taking his hand away completely and letting his dick hang and slowly go down.
Jeff pants for a moment, before letting out a deep breath, stroking over the sides of Harry’s face, trying to avoid the spots that are wet with his own come. He swings his leg over so he can fall back into the bed and rest his shaky legs.
“You’re gonna kill me one of these days.”
“You’re welcome,” Harry chirps, quite smug for someone who has come painting his face.
After composing himself a few moments later, Jeff rallies and pads into the bathroom to wet a washcloth.
He wipes Harry’s face and body for him, gentling over sensitive bits, Harry humming contentedly under the attention. He’s starting to look tired again now that he doesn’t have a goal to accomplish. When Jeff’s done, he gives himself a perfunctory wipe down and chucks the cloth into the sink. He rummages through their dresser and pulls on a clean pair of boxers but forgoes a shirt, still a bit warm and sweaty.
“You want underwear or no?” Jeff asks.
Harry slides under the sheets, clearly ready for a nap. It’ll be his third of the day. “No thanks,” he murmurs, already burrowing down into the pillows. Jeff didn’t expect him to say yes, if he’s honest.
He glances at the clock and it’s already four twenty-six. Aside from one little blip, the babies have been sleeping soundly the entire time. Incredible.
Jeff isn’t about to question it. If they’re sleeping, he isn’t going to wake them up just for the sake of it. But when it gets closer to when they need to be fed, they’ll have to. For now, his body is telling him to get back into bed with Harry and hold him.
So that’s what he does. Harry is warm and a little sticky, but he still smells good, and he curls back into Jeff when he slides in behind him. That’s all the incentive he needs to pull Harry close, wrapping an arm around his waist and tucking his face into his neck.
Right as Jeff is about to fall asleep, one of the babies starts to wail through the monitor.