“Well I came home
like a stone
and I fell heavy into your arms.
These days of dust
which we've known
will blow away with this new sun.”
As he was waiting for Nick to open up cold fingers tapping against the back of the phone in his hands his body slowly started to come down and the exhaustion he had already been feeling mentally now kicked in. And now – on top of feeling every single one of his bones ache – he started to doubt that Nick was even home. It took him unusually long to open up and Harry could slap himself for not just calling before driving here. But just as his spirits started to fall even lower than they already were the buzzer echoed through the quiet around him and he was let into the flat he had been dying to get back to for weeks now. It wasn't Nick who was holding the door open for him as he dragged his tired body out of the cold air and into the heated flat though. All he saw was bright orange hair and an olive-green jumpsuit and his heart did a little backflip because he had been looking forward to coming back here but now that he actually was and the people he loved where here too he just felt so happy.
“Look who's back from being super famous and stuff.” Aimee's voice echoed through the rather silent rooms as she squeezed his body into her side and planted a kiss on his cheek just like she always did. Tonight she had to stretch a little more than the last time though to pat his head and ruffle his hair. “Oi Styles, you are growing too much. Makes me feel small. Stop that.” The door clicked shut behind them and with that the light breeze of cold air from outside was banned and Harry was wrapped in warm air and he shouldn't have been feeling like that but because it was the warm air of Nick's flat it felt about a thousand times better than any other warm air he had ever felt. He could faintly hear someone pottering around in the kitchen as he reluctantly took his coat off because it was one thing to be cold but when your whole body feels drained you want to at least be warm. But because he had learned not to keep his coat on when he was inside he hung it up like the good boy he was and then he spotted the jumper that was carelessly thrown over the hall stand and he had to tear his eyes away from it so he wouldn't just pull it over his head to welcome the scent and feeling of it on his skin. Luckily Aimee's voice was there to take him out of his daydream as she called out for Nick. “Grim, get your arse over here. You probably wanna see this. Your endless prayers have been heard.”
“I never prayed for Henry to come ten minutes early to something when he usually comes about an hour too late. There's a great innuendo hidden in that sentence that I'm gonna make a joke-” The first thing Harry saw was Nick's incredibly perfect quiff peeking out of the kitchen as he made his way over and if Harry's heart skipped a beat or two nobody had to know. It was just that he was really fucking happy to see him again and he liked how just seeing him walking over with a growing smile on his face made him feel like he was finally home. “Popstar. Didn't think I'd ever see you again. Fancy meeting you here.” Yes, sometimes Harry called Nick when he was on tour to hear his voice because it soothed him but hearing it in person was so much better because he could not just hear the fond smile but also see it and it was so nice to be the reason for that. Especially when people talked shit about you 24/7.
So Harry carefully listened to every word leaving Nick's lips as he closed his arms around him and pressed the boys limp body into his leaving him strangely relaxed and animated to let all the weight that seemed to be resting on him just fall onto Nick for a second because Harry knew he'd make sure to catch it. He knew he could simply throw his whole body into Nick's because he would be there to hold him up. And so he did. As he nuzzled his face into the crook of Nick's neck and closed his eyes for just a few seconds he couldn't help but let his body resonate with the steady pats of Nick's warm hands on his back. His heart immediately adjusted to the slow rhythm as if it was the most natural thing to do.
Their hug might have been a little longer than what some people might call normal but Harry couldn't care less right now because he was fucking home. “You look tired, love.” Nick only mumbled the words as if Aimee who was already walking back into the kitchen wasn't supposed to hear them and all Harry could manage was a low hum as he was too busy taking in what he had been missing for ages now. “Let's get some food into that exhausted body of yours, yeah? Look horrible. Can't believe they even let you go out like that.” Instead of talking back to Nick for making fun of him he forced out what was supposed to be a reluctant grumble because he was letting him go and Harry wasn't ready to give up Nick's warmth yet. Maybe in about fifteen years. But definitely not right now. He was hungry though... so maybe food wasn't the worst idea Nick had ever had and it didn't mean Harry couldn't just stay glued to his side throughout the whole meal. So he let Nick grab his wrist and pull him into the kitchen and maybe he got a little distracted by the way Nick's fingers were wrapped around his arm in a tight grip and maybe Nick could feel his pulse going up just a bit.
Harry was torn out of his trance when the doorbell rang again and Aimee scurried past them to open up while Nick sat him down at the table leaving him there to get another plate. And of course he didn't say anything because it was stupid and childish and pathetic but he didn't like the feeling of Nick not touching him anymore. As much as he appreciated every single one of his touches – even the slightest brush of his fingertips by accident – he hated their absence about twice as much. He couldn't stand going from content and safe and touched by Nick to being away from him. And he sure as hell wasn't jealous because there was nothing to be jealous of and he had no right to but when Nick hugged Henry to welcome him Harry thought that he could've spent those three seconds hugging him just as well and he was ashamed of himself when the thoughts crossed his mind because if Nick ever knew what was going on inside of his head he would probably throw his needy ass back out into the streets of deathly cold Primrose Hill in the blink of an eye. So he just sucked it up and bit down on his bottom lip every time one of those thoughts crossed his mind throughout dinner and watched Nick talk to everyone at once illustrating everything with his hands just like he always did. And every time Henry and Aimee rolled their eyes at his ridiculousness Harry forced himself to at least stop smiling at him to blend in.
They had moved to the living room a while ago and Harry was lounging on one of the sofas watching Nick say bye to Henry and Aimee. He had loved seeing them again and the night couldn't have been better but once again his mind was filled with thoughts about how he couldn't wait to be alone with Nick. Not because he wanted to do something they couldn't do with people watching – well, maybe... but not primarily – but because he wanted his full attention. Yes, that was stupid but it just felt so nice to have it. It made him feel good when Nick was looking at him and nothing but him while he was telling a story or playing with Puppy or trying to choose something from the menu of their favourite Chinese takeaway. When Nick's eyes were focused on him he felt good and appreciated and he really really wanted to feel that.
It felt even nicer though when Nick touched him. Not like when he hugged him or grabbed his wrist. Those felt good but what Harry was hoping for were the unintentional touches when Nick wasn't fully concentrating on him. Like when they were watching the telly and he would just absentmindedly draw figures on Harry's thigh. That was what Harry wanted and he wasn't ashamed to admit that he sometimes liked to force them out of Nick a little. It was just that sometimes he got something like unsure maybe and then he'd watch the movement of Nick's fingers on his thigh for a bit and wonder if he was doing that out of boredom or because in reality he wanted to touch Harry just as much as Harry wanted to be touched. And to find out what really was the deal he'd shift or move away so they wouldn't be touching anymore and every time he did that his heart dropped a little afraid that Nick might not even notice that he wasn't there anymore. That he'd just grab a pillow instead of him and keep his eyes on the screen. Because honestly, there had been nights when scenes like that had been in his dreams and he'd woken up and felt so gutted that he had called Nick to make sure he wasn't tired of him yet. But every time Harry had moved away in the past waiting for a reaction with that horrible feeling in his gut Nick had reached out for him or shifted so at least parts of their bodies would touch again. Every single time of the millions of moments Harry needed that kind of reassurance Nick was right there to offer it. And of course thinking about it made him insecure again and question if he should even be here right now and if he should've interrupted the dinner Nick had obviously planned for him and his friends and the thoughts just piled up on top of each other as he sat there chewing on his bottom lip.
“Penny for your thoughts, popstar.” He hadn't noticed Nick joining him so hearing his voice so close startled him a little but when he looked up he felt a little disappointed to see Nick sitting on the sofa opposite of him when he could've sat down next to him just as well. That obviously didn't help calm the constant stream of he's tired of me, he wants me to leave, he's sick of me hanging around all the time that was making his head spin like crazy.
“Can't think nothing, love. 's impossible. Even for a simple mind like yours.” His voice was just as fond as always as he made fun of Harry and lightly nudged him with his foot but the smile Harry forced onto his face obviously didn't come out as big as he wanted it to. “Okay... too tired to laugh at my jokes. Guess we should call it a night then...” And if Harry thought his heart had dropped earlier when Nick hadn't sat down next to him then he didn't know what to call the feeling he got while he watched Nick rising from his seat and shallowly patting his knee before heading for his bedroom. he's tired of me, he wants me to leave, he's sick of me hanging around all the time. And now he was pretty directly telling him to go and leave him alone. So Harry swallowed down the lump in his throat and lifted his aching body from the now uncomfortable sofa to go get his coat from where he'd put it earlier thoughts about the stupid empty house he'd have to go back to filling up his mind. Maybe he'd call someone to go out with him. Usually after the first two or three drinks the exhaustion wore off and he was alright for a while. He normally did that when he was in another country or when Nick was too busy to go out but he could just as well do that in London. Distracted by his train of thoughts he tripped over one of Puppy's toys on his way into the hallway and muttered a low fuck because that bloody toy didn't need to kick him while he was already on the fucking floor, right?
“What the hell are you doing, Harold? Too tired to even find the way to bed? Need me to guide you? Thought you were familiar with the locality of Grimshaw Towers.”
“Yes? You...thought you'd stay in the dog bed tonight? Help yourself. But take the bath I'm running you first. Not even Puppy will let you into her bed with hair like that.” And with that he vanished into the bedroom again probably returning to the en suite bathroom to continue what he'd been doing while he left Harry standing there with the biggest rock being lifted off his chest frantically trying to shake off the gigantic smile as he followed Nick.
“Yessssssssss, Matthew. I will be there and I will be awake just like every morning for the past nine months. Yes. I am aware of the time, yes. It's not even that good to get so much sleep you know...like if you get too much you're gonna be knackered the next day. So that's my strategy...yes...correct. I know, Finchy. Don't worry, hun. I'm a big boy. I'll tie his hands and feetsies together and put him in the boxroom if he keeps me awake past midnight. Yeah yeah... Really need to go now. Wanna brush my teeth before I tug myself in and read my bedtime story. You, too. Byyyebyebyebyeeeebyebye.” With his head resting on the rim of the bathtub and his eyes closed he listened to Nick's muffled voice coming from the bedroom where he was on the phone to Matt who had obviously seen pictures of Harry entering Nick's flat earlier online. They got faster and sneakier every time. But he didn't give two shits about people knowing he was here because fuck yeah, he was here and he wouldn't leave until someone forced him to.
“You know I didn't put water and bath thingys in there for you to just lie around, Harold. You are supposed to clean yourself up. Get rid of all the filth from the endless nights of groupies and drugs. Don't want the sheets smelling of cheap women's perfume.”
“Haven't done that...” His words had been supposed to be much quieter than they turned out to be and to save himself from questions he just ducked down and let himself glide into the hot water but unfortunately he wasn't able to stay there forever and when he was above water again he saw that Nick had made his way from standing in the door to sitting on the edge of the tub.
“Said I haven't done that.”
“Sex.” He hadn't even planned on answering that quickly because … well it was a little embarrassing because he'd been gone for three months and he was Harry Styles, womanizer of the year, but the words had just forced their way out and there was nothing he could do to take them back now. And that was probably the reason why a lot of people used the word blunt to describe him so he wasn't going to argue about that one.
It wasn't like they never talked about sex so there was nothing embarrassing about talking about it now. Except that Harry hadn't had any in a very long time and that over the last few months he had caught himself staring at Nick's hands and lips and legs a few too many times for a few too long seconds. The lovely bloke Nick was he gave Harry the chance to get out of explaining himself by snorting out a laugh at his answer.
“Like ever? Wow. Henry Stars still a virgin. Craaaaaayyyyzaaaay. But even virgins have to clean up...soz to tell ya, buddy. Go on with it, I want your hair clean before you come to bed.” Once again Harry's incredibly smart mind rose to the situation and took over. It was one thing to wish for something or think about it from time to time... but it was another to ask for it. While you were sitting in a bathtub. Naked.
“Can you do it?”
“Wash your hair?”
“Mmmmh.” Nick rolled his eyes dramatically and shook his head but there was a smile spreading on his lips that told Harry he'd won this one as Nick already leaned over to grab the bottle of shampoo from the other side of the tub.
“You are a menace, Harry Styles. A terribly needy and disturbing virgin menace. Head back, eyes closed.” His body naturally followed Nick's orders in the blink of an eye and as he felt the cool liquid soaking into his wet hair before Nick's fingers starting massaging it in he was really really grateful for the huge amount of foam bath Nick had put in earlier causing a thick layer of foam to cover up his lower body completely. He felt his body go loose and relaxed under Nick's touch and apparently his mind followed suit as it had already come up with another great answer.
“Not a virgin, you know...”
“Yes, I do know that. I have talked to Caroline before, love. Head forward.” Again his head practically snapped forward on its own to follow Nick's order earning a low chuckle.
“Yeah...but that's... not.. like... I'm not...” He didn't even know what he wanted to say. Where was he going and why did his mind desperately want to talk about this with Nick right now? And what was this exactly? He couldn't just go ahead and say hey Nick, I really like the way your long fingers feel on my head. Wonder what they'd feel like pressing me down into the sheets, could he? It wouldn't be a complete lie. Actually it would be the full and utter truth but you didn't just tell people that. You didn't tell your mates that. Even Harry knew that much.
“Head back.” Fortunately Nick put him off that thought for now with rinsing his hair until he was done and happy with his work. “Out now. You'll liquidate if you stay in there a little longer.” And as Nick grabbed one of the big towels to hand to Harry getting out of the water he couldn't exactly keep his mind from going down the road it was headed for. If you weren't supposed to tell your mates stuff like that... maybe you could make them find out on their own? Nick always kept going on about Harry being a young adonis and how he felt all ugly and old around him so it was worth a shot, wasn't it? It wasn't. Nick looked at him, threw the towel in his direction and walked right out of the bathroom without another word leaving Harry standing there feeling ridiculous for even thinking Nick would look at him in that way for a second. So he rubbed his skin dry and put on the clothes Nick had laid out for him before making his way to the bedroom trying to push those thoughts to the back of his mind and not feel embarrassed. He'd slept next to Nick and snuggled into him or sprawled out all over him a zillion times so there was no reason to feel awkward now. Except there was because he kept thinking about other positions to get into once he'd be in that bed with Nick's warm body so fucking close to his own.
when i’m with you
i am calm
a pearl in your oyster
head on my chest
a silent smile
a private kind of happiness
It must have been the first time that Harry had ever not felt completely relaxed and perfectly comfortable in Nick's bed. Normally he stripped down to his boxers, crawled under the covers and that was it. Every concern or trouble disappeared and he felt safe and at home and like nothing that was going to happen or be said there would lead to anything problematic. Normally the second he felt Nick's warm body next to his and heard his slow steady breathing his own body just slackened and he was at ease. Right now he still felt comfortable and at home and there was no place he'd rather be but he couldn't stop thinking. He couldn't just slip under the covers and into Nick's personal space and entangle their legs because every single one of these thoughts made him jump to others more indecent ones that had never been there before. And that Nick obviously wasn't interested in at all because he was his mate. And he was much older and therefore more experienced and Harry had seen the pictures of him with whoever was leaving a club with him that night and he knew the stories their friends kept telling to tease Nick about who he was sharing his bed with and then it slowly crept inside his head. The thought of these other guys slipping under the covers and searching for Nick's body that was radiating this welcoming and comforting heat. He wondered how many people had done that and when the last one had been in here. Did he take them here? Because Henry and Aimee often dropped hints about Nick having very clear rules about who got to sleep in his bed and who didn't. Who didn't then? And still... who had been the last one to lie in the spot Harry was lying in right now? Had he changed the sheets afterwards?
Harry literally felt like drowning in the constant stream of new questions coming up in his mind and the only thing he really wanted to do was ask them all. Out loud. Right this moment. Because he didn't really enjoy thinking about the way Nick's hands might be grazing someone else's skin.
“What's wrong?” It was so silent in the room and Harry was so deep in those stupid thoughts that the raspy and thick sound of Nick's voice next to him actually made him jump a little because for a second he had forgotten that, yes, Nick was lying next to him and probably wondering why he was lying on his bed not sure how to move and even less sure how to get rid of the chaos in his head.
“You are still dressed in a lot more clothes than you usually are and blankets are supposed to be covering you up and protect you from the cold.” Right. He was still lying on top of them. And he was still wearing Nick's Dr Dre tee that he had laid out for him earlier but he wasn't really in a healthy state to give that up yet. For one thing he wouldn't be wearing anything but boxers and for another thing he was still imagining Nick pulling it over his head.
“'m cold. Gonna keep it on I think...” He wasn't cold. He was hot from the bath and hot from his thoughts and flushed from how inappropriate it felt to think all of them.
“Come here then, stupid. I'd be cold too if I was lying on top of the covers. What is going on with you, Styles? You make even less sense than usual. Didn't think that'd be possible to be honest with ya.” Well there was no way for him to get out of the invitation Nick had imposed and his body was faster than his mind anyway because apparently Nick's open arms forced him to inch across the mattress until he was enclosed by them. Feeling the heat from Nick's skin flow through him where his cheek was now lying on his chest he desperately tried to shut his fucking mind up and just relax because how stupid must it seem to Nick that he was so tense?
He didn't do the worst job of it and while he practically forced his muscles to wind down he remembered that Nick had initially asked him a question and hated when Harry just forgot to answer. But what was going on with him? Was there even a point to make up an answer Nick wouldn't believe and then have him boring deeper and deeper until he got the right one?
“Just thinking 'bout stuff...” That wasn't really a lie and maybe Nick was tired enough to not care that stuff basically was his sexlife.
“Mhhh stuff. Let me know if you wanna discuss stuff with me then.” As he listened to Nick's mumbled words that were actually really heavy with sleep he felt one of his warm hands finding his back and lazily stroking up and down in the slowest way there was to stroke and it made it so hard to continue listening and not just yell out something really inappropriate. “I'm a great stuff-discusser actually. Discussed a lot of stuff in my days. Stuff other people wouldn't even dare discussing... discussed the shit out of it.” Well theoretically he was kind of asking Harry to voice his thoughts, right? But that was because he didn't know what his thoughts were and because he was being a good friend and no. Harry would not go there. He would just close his fucking eyes and sleep and then tomorrow everything would be fine. So he chuckled and nestled closer into Nick hoping that the topic would be closed with that and apparently it was. Nick didn't talk again. His breathing got even slower and eventually joined the rhythm of his hand stroking up and down Harry's back. And every time it was on its way down Harry wished for it to go just a little further and every time it didn't he was a little disappointed.
When Harry opened his eyes again he was still pressed to Nick's chest. One big and warm hand on the bottom of his spine, the other one flat next to his face and as he carefully lifted his head to see the neon digits of the alarm clock on the nightstand he realised how fucking hot he was. Still wearing the tee while Nick radiated heat as always and on top of it all they were almost completely covered up with the huge blanket. 4:01. He would definitely die if he had to stay like this for another hour before Nick would have to get up. But he also didn't want to leave the position he was in. And he sure as hell didn't want to give up Nick's hand on him. But with this temperature he wouldn't be going back to sleep. Ever. So as subtle and graceful as he could manage – which was not at all – he tried pushing off the duvet with his feet and was happy for every inch it moved down. Stopping once in a while when Nick made a sound or shifted he continued his task until their upper bodies were free and it wasn't perfect but it was definitely a little improvement and he wasn't that scared of melting anymore.
“What are you doing?” He had been so concentrated on his mission that he hadn't noticed Nick lazily opening his eyes and frowning down at him. The thick weariness in his voice that made it all rough and raspy startled him so fucking much. It caught him off guard and it was such a nice sound and he couldn't go there again. Not this early and not when he was this close to a this naked Nick.
“Sorry. 'm hot.” The groan Nick let out when he let go of him to completely push down the duvet and get rid of it made Harry involuntarily bite down on his bottom lip. For one thing to avoid commenting on it or maybe doing the same and for another to stop himself from protesting because Nick wasn't touching him anymore. In his head no. please touch me again. touch me. pleaaase. was fighting it's way out and he was pretty sure that was not the appropriate thing to say. The appropriate thing probably was to just go back to sleep now that the covers were gone and the cold air hit the skin of his legs and slowly started to cool him down. But where was the fun in that, right? That wasn't how his brain worked so of course he didn't just go back to sleep. He lay there. Flat on his back where Nick had left him.
“Why are you still wearing the fucking shirt, Harold? Come on...” Harry blamed it on the sleep still fogging up his mind that he didn't react immediately. Well, he did. Somehow. His gut dropped and his throat tightened as he watched Nick lean over and grab the hem of his shirt. Under normal circumstances the situation might have been the most awkward and uncoordinated thing in the world but right now it managed to fuck Harry up big time. He didn't care about the difficulties Nick had with getting him out of the fabric because he was lying on top of it or because he didn't want to move one inch too much. All he cared about in this moment was the way Nick's stupidly long fingers were deliciously slowly inching up his stomach while he slid the tee up to his chest. And if he thought he had been warm before then now his skin seemed to be burning in the spots Nick had touched it. Any straight thinking person probably would've complained about Nick being so fucking lazy and sloppy and indifferent about getting Harry out of his clothes but Harry couldn't possibly think straight when Nick was getting him out of his clothes. Lazy or not. “Better?”
“Good. Go back to sleep.” But he couldn't just go back to sleep with burn marks all over his stomach and chest. He couldn't just ignore the way the spots still stung like someone was sticking needles into his skin. And more importantly he didn't want to. Nick couldn't just make him feel like that and then tell him to sleep. That was cruel. And Nick wasn't cruel.
Tracing the spots Nick had touched earlier he checked if maybe there actually were marks that he could shove into Nick's face and force him to do something about it and although he couldn't see everything in the dim light he could definitely make out how Nick was staring at his hand. To make sure he wasn't imagining he moved further up his chest, traced his collarbone and watched Nick's eyes follow every slightest movement of his fingers. Alright, he needed someone to objectively judge the situation and tell him why the fuck Nick would look at him like that and if it really was what he wanted it to be and if so - how the hell did he turn it into more? Still racking his brain about what to do he watched Nick slowly wet his lips before he swallowed heavily. “What do you think you are doing?”
“Tired. You should sleep.” Nick's voice had gone from raspy and somewhat sensual to fucking stern in a split second and Harry's hand automatically snapped away from his chest. He had never been more confused about something Nick did. Nick never pulled any vague or sketchy things. He told you exactly what was going on and that was it. His actions never had any hidden meanings whatsoever because he just couldn't be bothered with playing any games. But why on earth would he start that now? Harry wasn't that stupid. He had eyes. And he had seen Nick's. Had heard the way Nick's voice had taken on a tone that he'd never witnessed before and how suddenly it had cut him off and forced that tone away again.
Or was he that stupid? For thinking that Nick would even consider looking at him like that? He sure as hell could do a lot better. He had done a lot better. He probably was annoyed out of his mind by some stupid teenager keeping him up in the middle of the night because he was suddenly craving his touch. Harry most definitely wasn't the only one with that desire. How could he be so fucking stupid to think he'd seen something like that in Nick's behaviour?
“Just say it.” Okay, he really needed to control his fucking mouth before he said those things. It wasn't supposed to come out this sulky and offended. It wasn't supposed to come out at all. But he was frustrated and he really didn't want to annoy Nick. But if there was the slightest chance of him not being an annoying little shit then he needed to know that.
“That you don't want me.”
“That I don't-...Harold, it's ten past four. I have to be up in one bloody hour. What are you talking about?” Well. Now or never, Harry guessed. Because of course he could just shrug it off and say he was talking shit because he was tired. Or he could confront Nick and possibly get thrown out of his flat and never see him again because he'd avoid him forever. Or – and, yes, the likeliness was rather low – he could be kissed fucking senseless by Nick. And as long as there was even the tiniest bit of a chance that that might happen Harry would not hold back the words that were already urging out of his mouth.
“I'm talking about the way you make me fucking crazy when you touch me. It burns. And you are not cruel. So...you can't just... you look at me like that...and then you tell me to sleep...and...I don't wanna fucking sleep.” He felt so sick because there was literally no reaction on Nick's face. Which was kind of good because there was no disgust or amusement yet, but there was also no sign of anything else except complete blankness. “I know I'm not like... what you normally... I mean... I never did any of... this. But...I want it....you.” He'd given it his best to get everything out before his voice left him and the last sentence had come out as not much more than a breathy whisper. But Nick had definitely heard it. Because just like before he licked his lips and swallowed. But he didn't fucking say anything and that killed Harry because he needed to fucking say something. Even if he wanted to throw him out of his bed he needed to do that now because Harry couldn't handle not getting any reaction.
It honestly felt like hours went by before Nick cleared his throat still staring at Harry who was still staring at him and when his voice finally sounded through the room it was weaker than Harry had expected it to be. Just a low thin mumble.
“Sure about that?” He hadn't expected those words to come out of Nick's mouth actually so he struggled so fucking much to get even one out when he slowly but surely nodded his head.
“Yes.” Harry hated the way his voice broke just saying this one stupid word when all he wanted was to seem sure and confident about what he was telling Nick here. But he couldn't do anything about it and while he was still mentally slapping himself for sounding so stupidly weak Nick shifted and one of his hands reached out for Harry's hip. And then he was actually pressed down into the mattress and Nick was towering over him and his skin was on fire under Nick's hand causing his vision and general perception of things to go blurry. He still heard the muttered fucking hell that left Nick's lips before they found his and actually connected with them though. And he also felt the way his thumb pushed against his hip when he involuntarily wanted to lift it up. He had imagined kissing Nick so fucking much these past few weeks and now that he was actually doing it it was nothing like that. His hand was so much firmer on Harry's eager body and his tongue felt so much better pressed against his and he honestly didn't ever want to stop doing that again. He had imagined it to be good. But he hadn't imagined it to be I can't think straight. what's my name? where am I? good and instead of making him satisfied and shutting his stupid mind up it just made him want so much more. He wanted everything Nick would give him and he wasn't ashamed to ask for it in the neediest kind of way. Because honestly, his body was already doing it anyway and even if it was just really low and quiet, he had heard Nick's fucking moan when Harry hadn't been able to keep his hands to himself anymore and they'd found their way into his hair. He'd thought that maybe he'd gotten too eager and tugged at it a little too hard but the way Nick allowed him to lift his hips now and get closer instead of pushing him down told him that it might not have been the worst idea he's ever had.