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Chasing Waterfalls

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All Jeff wanted was a damn cheese stick. But no, the universe has to get in his way whenever possible. Now he’s stuck behind the wall between the living room and the hallway, listening in to what seems like an intensely private conversation.

In short, Harry’s on the phone with God only knows who, and he’s talking about getting urinated on.

Which. Jeff isn’t closed-minded in the slightest, having opened up quite a bit since being with Harry, but this comes as a definite surprise.

For one, Harry enjoys tidiness. There isn’t a whole bunch of clutter around the house, which is a feat considering they have three boys under three years old, and weekend cleaning has become a ritual in their house (much to the detest of said toddlers). Jeff’s not an idiot. He knows that cleaning the shower and sexual tendencies are two very different things, but hearing Harry talk so freely about something so intimate with someone other than Jeff just- well it stings.
A lot.

Since River was born they’ve been noticeably drifting from each other, not really taking the time to talk about the little (and big, like this) things as much as they used to. Jeff loves his kids, and wouldn’t trade the way his life has gone for anything in the world, but the daily routine has gotten to him and Harry’s relationship a bit, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it. Before Jeff can muster up the courage to walk across the living room and get his damn cheese, he tunes back into the conversation.

“Yeah I’ve thought about water sports a few times, seems fun. Mhm. Shit makes me sore the next morning, though.” What about peeing makes him sore? Jeff doesn’t want to know. There’s a pause before Harry continues.

“I mean, someone would have to watch the kids, for sure, they’re still little. Thought about making a day of it, as a nice surprise, we haven’t been all that close lately.”

Harry’s statement hits Jeff where it counts. It’s not just that Jeff is being irrational, making mountains out of molehills, he legitimately hasn’t been attentive enough to Harry and now he’s on the phone talking about making a day out of pissing on himself? Jesus.

“I do have to take a shower after though, the salt makes my hair all crunchy and it’s gross.”

His hair? Jeff can’t listen anymore, cheese stick be damned. He takes off back down the hall to their room as quietly as he can to panic about this in private. As soon as the door snicks shut, he’s pacing marks into the carpet and raking his fingers through his hair. How could he have missed something like this? Was their sex life really that inane? Worst of all, why wouldn’t Harry have told him directly? Why did he have to choose to call someone, presumably someone close, although now Jeff isn’t sure, and chat about wetting the bed at half past two in the afternoon?

Jeff usually has answers to their issues. He’s the rational one here, not to say that Harry isn’t, but Jeff is more apt to fix something directly when it’s broken. But now Harry feels the need to fix it, whatever this problem is, by himself and organize an entire day dedicated to the (hopefully) one thing he hasn’t let Jeff onto just yet. Relationships are a balancing act, Jeff knows, but feeling like Harry might be carrying this weight on his own is scaring Jeff shitless.

Finally he hears a conclusion to this cursed phone call and the sound of curious feet padding down the hall. There’s two little raps on the door before Harry comes in.

“Hey babe, I thought I heard you come down the hall, what happened?” Harry’s eyebrows are pulled together, forming a cute little crease in his forehead. Jeff almost gets distracted before he remembers what he spent the last five minutes listening in on.

“Oh yeah, I was, uh, looking for my laptop, and I thought I left it in here.” Jeff knows Harry can smell the bullshit. Even if they aren’t the closest right now, Jeff can see Harry’s eyes narrow, see the crease deepen, the way his hands nervously twitch and reposition themselves.

“Mmkay. It’s on the coffee table.” Harry looks him square in the face, trying to needle information out of him with silence before stalking off down the hall. Jeff audibly breathes a sigh of relief once Harry’s out of earshot and tries to calm himself down before following Harry out to the living room to plop down on the couch while the boys are still asleep.

He’s still thinking about the phone call and the one thing that seems to stick out the most is that he doesn’t know who Harry was talking to. Curiosity wins over logic.

“Hey, I thought I heard you on the phone earlier, what was up?”

Jeff gets the hawk eye and a slow response.

“Just calling Marnie about the playdate this weekend.”

This weekend? Jeff thinks he might be sick.


“Yes, Marnie, Jude’s friend Asher’s mom, why?” Harry sounds irritated so Jeff won’t push, not until he has to.

“Just wondering,” he sighs, and unceremoniously shoves more Cheez-Its into his mouth until one of the boys starts crying.


Things don’t get easier as time marches forward. Tuesday bleeds into Wednesday and soon enough it’s Thursday and Jeff is faced with the fact that the kids will be someplace else for an entire day in less than twenty-four hours. The entire day, and that gives Harry whatever opportunity he needs to-- for lack of a better term-- let it out.

Jeff just can’t wrap his head around it. He does some incognito browsing in the privacy of his office, making quick notes on how to best protect their poor furniture, and picks up plastic sheeting on the way home from work, hiding it in the trunk of his car. If he’s doing this, he has to be prepared.

What he isn’t prepared for is Harry jumping his bones as soon as he walks in the door Thursday night.

Jeff doesn’t have time to fully step into the room, being pressed against the nearest wall right when he comes in. Harry’s hands are rucking up the crisp white shirt, fingers expanding over the soft sides of Jeff’s rib cage. Once Jeff catches his breath, he uses the tip of his index finger to move Harry where he wants him and seals their lips together. He relents control to Harry, letting him decide the pace and depth of the kiss, making his jaw go slack when Harry wants it slower and biting down on the plush pink of Harry’s bottom lip when he lets out a whine.

“Boys are asleep,” Harry murmurs, pressing his hips into Jeff’s thigh. He can feel the thick line of Harry’s dick even through the layers of fabric and Jeff’s mouth waters at the thought of him getting wetter by the second.

Jeff slips Harry’s fingers through his belt loops and says, “Why don’t you lead the way, then?”

Harry’s brows pop up and he presses a quick kiss to Jeff’s temple before turning on his heels and dragging Jeff down the hall by the trousers.
Jeff’s belt and suit jacket are quickly discarded. He tries to make even quicker work of Harry’s top without fumbling around too much.

“Jesus, why so many buttons? Do you secretly hate me and you’re taking it out on me with complicated blouses?”

Harry rolls his eyes and smiles while rubbing his hands up and down the back of Jeff’s thighs and says, “I don’t even button them all Jeffery, keep up.”

Jeff settles for somewhat ungracefully slipping the shirt over Harry’s head and shimmying his jeans down the softness of his thighs, making sure to leave slight scratches on his way down. Harry’s hands seem to have a mind of their own, roaming the expanse of Jeff’s back all the way down to his hips and squeezing once they get there. He gives Jeff’s ribs two courtesy taps before yanking his shirt from the waistband of the dress pants Jeff has on and tugs those down too, suddenly appearing hyper-focused. Nobody’s even really been touched yet and Harry’s chest is beginning to heave up and down, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“Gotta stay with me baby,” Jeff whispers, reaching forward to hold Harry and grab a palmful of his ass. The gesture seems to be appreciated because Harry lets out a whine that Jeff mutes with two fingers pressed to his lips. Harry’s tongue slips out immediately, lathing over the sides of Jeff’s fingers and soaking them to the second knuckle. Before Jeff can even react, Harry’s pulling two fingers into his mouth with his tongue, hollowing his cheeks and sucking on them like his life depends on it. He moves backwards, pulling Jeff over to the bed by his fingers.
It’s then that Jeff notices it.

A half-full pint-sized bottle of water on the nightstand, still open. He doesn’t let his eyes linger there for too long, isn’t very capable of doing so at the moment with Harry’s laser focus on the fingers in his mouth. They move backwards onto the mattress, Harry going down first and pulling Jeff’s body onto him. He only releases Jeff’s fingers to put both of Jeff’s hands on his hips, helping slide the fabric of his underwear down his legs.

Harry’s always been eager for it, and this is no exception. His dick has already filled out, nestling itself in the crease between his hip and thigh, steadily leaking onto the skin there. It’s bright red at the tip, just slightly poking out from the top of his foreskin and Jeff can’t help but trace his finger along the rim of the head, marveling at him.

With a loose fist, Jeff starts a rhythm, loose on the upstroke and tight coming back down to the base. Within two minutes Harry’s canting his hips in the air, meeting the long strokes of Jeff’s fist and whining from the back of his throat. He’s always lovely but he’s especially pretty like this, and Jeff tells him as much while slowly rubbing the head of his dick, keeping the foreskin up and over it.

“Want to touch,” Harry murmurs, adjusting them so they’re both on their knees facing each other. He moves forward to tuck his hand into Jeff’s briefs and his face into his neck.

Harry takes less time to roam around, wrapping his fingers around Jeff’s dick and swirling the tips of them through the pre-come leaking down the shaft. He pulls away for a brief second, pressing a quick kiss to Jeff’s neck before reaching out for something. Jeff anticipates his touch but it never comes. He realizes in horror that Harry is reaching for the water bottle and panic shoots through Jeff’s veins like ice.

He’s nowhere near prepared, the sheets of their bed are uncovered and would likely soak straight through if this is really what’s happening. Jeff takes a deep breath, his dick flagging a bit, and scrambles off the bed.

“Jeff? Wha-What the hell are you doing?”

Harry’s hands drop to the sheets like there are weights attached to his wrists.

“The kids, one of the kids, there’s-uh, they’re crying.”

There’s not even a hint of truth and Jeff knows Harry can see that. His lips draw together in a tight line and he casts his eyes down, looking like a kicked puppy. Jeff can’t handle this.

He takes a sheet from off of the bed, tying it around his waist before making a beeline for the door. It’s not his proudest moment.

He goes into the twins’ room just to make his excuse seem credible, toeing into the nursery as quietly as he can so no one gets woken up. When he’s sure he’s alone and neither of the kids are awake, Jeff sits right on the ground and wrings his hands together, trying to make sense of what on earth just happened.

There was no talking. Harry hadn’t once asked him if he was okay with the idea, he’d just gone ahead and chugged a pint of water and called it good. No asking, no permission, no nothing. That makes Jeff nervous above everything else. They’re not the kind of people that don’t communicate, especially with such intimate subjects like sex, and it’s nerve-wracking that Harry didn’t feel the need to talk it through first. Even just a quick debrief of ‘this is what I was thinking, are you okay with that?’ would’ve been fine, but now Jeff is stuck in a different room panicking because Harry didn’t ask for the green light.

Jeff sits there for twenty minutes, enough time for his tailbone to go numb and maybe enough for Harry to either sort himself out or settle down. Eventually, Jeff wanders back into the bedroom.

Harry’s sitting back against the pillows with criss-crossed legs and his arms folded over his chest, a t-shirt and underwear back on. He clearly isn’t happy, but Jeff isn’t either. He waits for Jeff to put his own t-shirt on and sit on the bed before he speaks.

“We going to talk about that, then?”

So now he wants to talk. Classic.

“No,” Jeff says simply, untying the sheet and letting it slide to the floor before turning the lamp on the nightstand off and closing his eyes.


Jeff wasn’t expecting Harry to be there in the morning, so when he wakes up colder than usual, it’s no surprise. The sheets on Harry’s side of the bed are flung back. and he did sleep through the night there, but apparently felt the need to run before even saying good morning.

Jeff knuckles over his eyes and checks his phone for anything pressing before sitting up and finding sweatpants to shrug on, moving on autopilot. The now-empty water bottle sits on Harry’s nightstand and Jeff can’t help but wonder if he left it there on purpose.

He eventually makes his way to the kitchen and finds a note from Harry that says:

Went to take the kids to Marnie’s. Back soon.

There’s no little x’s and o’s and again, Jeff isn’t surprised. By the time he rustles up something for breakfast, the anxiety of what Harry likely expected of him has worn off and it’s almost nice to have the house to himself, to have some space to think.

Harry comes through the door five minutes later, cursing when he inevitably stubs his toe on something the boys left out. He sees Jeff in the kitchen and offers him a polite smile, not to be confused with friendly, his cheeks not quite squishy enough and it not reaching his eyes.

“Morning.” Jeff at least needs to break the silence. Harry makes a noncommittal noise and busies himself with tidying the living room.

The morning goes mostly like this, with the two of them orbiting around each other the best they can without it being awkward. Jeff showers and gets dressed, helping Harry with the busy work he’s assigned himself, and it’s one in the afternoon when they finally slow down. There’s nothing on TV and neither of them pretend to watch it. It’s Harry who speaks first.

“Are we still not talking about it then?”

Jeff sighs and Harry continues.

“I’m not going to lie and say I’m not upset about it. I am. I mostly just want to know why.”

Jeff looks at him incredulously. What does he mean, why?

“Why, what?”

Harry seethes.

“Don’t be difficult, Jeff. I want to know why you scrambled to get away from me as soon as I touched you.”

“If this is some game you’re playing-”

“Why would you think that? Why would I be playing a game when I’m clearly upset that you literally ran away from me?”

Jeff takes a deep breath to try and clear his head before he says this out loud.

“You want to try watersports. I heard you on the phone.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he pulls a face.

“Okay? What does that have to do with what happened last night?”

“What do you mean? Watersports isn’t our usual thing.”

“That’s why I thought it would be interesting!” Harry’s starting to get riled up, shucking one hand through his hair and facing Jeff full on.

“Harry, you have to talk to me first before you just go assuming things.”

“Why would I have to talk to you about water skiing- oh my god.” Harry slaps a hand over his mouth and his cheeks go bright pink. Jeff gets it; feeling hot from the bottom to the top, and not in a good way.

“Jeff? Please tell me you don’t think watersports meant I wanted to, like, pee on you.”

Jeff’s face scrunches up and that tells Harry all he needs to know.

“No, god, I meant that I wanted to take you out water skiing because I know you used to like it and it would be a nice day out together. Did you think I scheduled an entire day for peeing?”

Jeff nods and says, “I was so unprepared and I didn’t know what to do and when you just started chugging water I freaked out and I’m sorry.” His head ends up in his hands before he can articulate himself, but he thinks Harry gets the gist. Harry places a hand on Jeff’s knee to calm him.

“And you… you got upset because you thought I was making assumptions and not talking to you first, right?”

“Yeah. I panicked.”

Harry pokes the side of Jeff’s jaw so he faces him and leaves a sweet kiss on his temple.

“I’ll always, always ask you first, okay? Want you to be comfortable, more than anything else. Was just thirsty.”

Jeff scoots closer to Harry, wrapping him up in a warm hug, and he feels Harry smile against his shoulder. Without letting go he says, “You want to know something funny?”

“Hm?” Harry hums.

“I’ve got plastic sheeting and a waterproof mattress liner in the trunk of my car.”

It makes Harry cackle, nose scrunching up and everything, pulling away to face him.

“No you do not!”

“Yes, yes I do.”

Harry turns the slightest shade of pink. “So I’m guessing you’re not one hundred percent against it?”

Jeff shakes his head. “I was definitely surprised, but I was willing to try if it’s what you wanted. If that’s something you actually want, I guess.”

Harry sits up a bit straighter and pats Jeff’s arm, saying, “We could try it if you’re okay with it, and we’ll talk beforehand about boundaries and stuff, okay?” Jeff nods and Harry leans forward and presses his lips ridiculously far out; presented for kissing, and of course Jeff obliges.


Harry has the worst timing in history. The boys are in the middle of a feeding cycle, Harry and River settled on the couch while Jeff sets the twins up in their highchairs, using fruit puffs to satiate them while he scoops sweet potato purée into little bowls.

“Hey babe? Was thinking about asking my mom to take the kids this weekend so we could- um. Try that- thing.”

If Harry’s talking about what Jeff thinks he’s talking about, now is definitely not the time.

“Excuse me, are you really asking about this in the middle of nourishing our little baby angels?”
Jeff smirks when Harry sticks his tongue out at him.

“I am serious though, about trying it. Think it might be nice to let you have more control in a different way.”

Harry’s so casual it makes Jeff choke on the fruit puff he was snacking on.

“Is that what you want then? Me to tell you how much to drink and how long to hold it?”

Harry blushes a bit and says “Maybe. Maybe I think you should push me until I’m a mess and then a little more.”

Jeff thanks his lucky stars the boys don’t really understand what they’re talking about.

“Can we talk about this once the boys are down?”

Harry nods and starts to clean up little River’s face and burp him, slinging a cloth over his shoulder.

The kids go down easily, Harry’s foot tapping anxiously on the floor the entire time they get everyone changed and diapered. Finally the night lights are on and the doors are shut, and as soon as they’re back to the living room Jeff cracks.

“Want me to make a mess out of you, hm?”

Harry moves over to him in two easy strides, taking Jeff’s hands and pressing them into his hips, touching their foreheads together.

“Yeah,” Harry says, the word sounding a bit strangled and breathless falling out of his mouth.

Jeff takes the hint and squeezes the softest part of Harry’s hips, making him jump. He lets his hands travel down the expanse of Harry’s thighs until he gets to the innermost point of soft flesh, dragging his blunt nails across the fabric of Harry’s jeans. When Jeff gets to his dick, which is filling out rapidly, he cups his palm around the top and squeezes. Harry lets out a soft noise that sounds more cat-like than human and Jeff’s smirk takes up his entire face.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait till Saturday then,” Jeff murmurs, nosing into the point where Harry’s neck meets his jaw and running his palm down the length of him before pulling off completely. Harry just gapes at him, sputtering and blinking, while Jeff presses a chaste kiss to his lips and meanders down the hall to turn out the lights.


Friday morning Jeff can already tell that Harry’s keyed up by the way he’s carding his fingers through his hair every thirty seconds. He’s been busy this morning, leaving nothing for later, taking care of anything and everything that needs tending to. The kitchen counters are literally sparkling and if so much as one fruit puff falls on the floor it’s whisked away in seconds.

It only gets worse when Jeff goes to get the plastic sheeting and waterproof mattress liner out of the trunk of his car. As soon as Harry sees what Jeff has in his hands his eyes go saucer-wide and his fingers wring together nervously. When the boys are good and distracted Jeff pulls him into the kitchen.

“You know we don’t have to do this, H. It’s okay.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow for a moment before he smooths them out. “No I know, I’m just a bit nervous.”

Jeff cocks his head. “Excited, nervous or anxious?”

“Bit of both I guess. Peeing outside the box and all that.”

Jeff chuckles and places a consoling palm on the small of Harry’s back, warming him through to the bone. “I’ve got you, babe. And if at any point it’s too much just tell me and we’ll stop, okay?”

Harry’s previously worried expression lights up as he speaks, eyebrows evening and dimples popping out. “Not sure if you’re aware, but I love you a lot.”


“I mean you did marry me so...” Jeff pokes the dimple denting Harry’s cheek then replaces his finger with his lips.

Harry not so subtly takes a bottle of water to bed with him that night, taking a long pull and hollowing his cheeks right before saying goodnight with a wink. Jeff just smiles, calls him a pest, and lays down with a hand splayed across Harry’s hip.


All three of the boys are whisked away at a punctual nine AM, leaving Jeff with plenty of time to let Harry sleep a bit more before waking him up to help make the bed. He makes sure both water pitchers are full, intending on at least one of the forty eight ounce containers being gone before noon. He doesn't get around to pouring a glass for Harry to wake up to when he’s startled by a sudden weight on his back and a scruffy face tucked into his neck. Harry’s soft and sleep-warm, still wrapped in a thick blue sweater.

“Good morning, Jeffrey,” Harry says, drawing the ‘e’ sound out five syllables at the least.

“Morning, Henry.” That earns Jeff a nip on the lobe of his ear.

They skate through breakfast, working on eggs and toast in easy tandem and humming along to whatever music pops up on the playlist they’ve put on. They eat right at the counter, and Jeff pours Harry a glass of water with a smirk, setting it down next to his plate. Harry guzzles it in about ten seconds, and Jeff sets down another one. If Harry wants hardball, Jeff can do hardball. The next two cups are emptied just as quickly, and Jeff decides it’s time to let Harry’s body catch up a bit, saying as much to Harry who just nods and says it’s okay. When Jeff suggests a shower, Harry’s eyebrows pop up.

“I um- I usually go. You know. In the shower.” Harry’s cheeks are the most adorable shade of pink and Jeff smiles, running a hand over his jaw.

“Guess you’ll just have to be good then.”

Jeff can feel the way Harry’s breath catches on the heel of his hand. Harry says ‘I will’ ever so softly and makes his way to the shower with a light smack to the buttcheek from Jeff.

Jeff sneaks into the bedroom with a bottle of water, placing it on the dresser and attaching a note that says ‘Gone by eleven.’ It’s ten forty now. He’s seated in the living room when Harry strolls out with damp hair, pulling from the water bottle with a coy smile. As expected, the bottle is empty at eleven o’clock and as soon as it’s tossed in the trash Jeff tangles his fingers in Harry’s hair, scratching at the scalp and murmuring in his ear that he’s been so good this morning.
And Harry continues to be good, taking the water Jeff presents him with no question, drinking it within the timeline he’s given, and being extra attentive to Jeff on the side. He’s practically attached to Jeff at the hip and always has his hands on Jeff in some way. By noon, the first pitcher and two bottles of water are gone and Harry looks like he’s ready to burst. He’s gone from tender and easy to a bit jumpy and indecisive, not offering any suggestions on lunch or what movie to watch later that night. Jeff decides it’s time to make the bed.

“I’ll be right back, okay baby? Want this gone in ten,” Jeff says, placing a kiss to Harry’s hair and setting a small plastic cup of water on the end table next to him. Harry nods and watches Jeff walk back toward the bedroom with pleading eyes.

Stripping the bed of blankets and pillows doesn’t take long, Jeff flinging them into the open closet. What does take a minute is stretching the mattress cover across their queen size bed with just two hands. The sheets are reapplied and Jeff grabs two spare pillows from the top shelf of the closet so the good ones don’t have a chance of getting caught in the crossfire. The plastic sheeting is easier, Jeff draping a generous layer on top of the bed sheets and cutting the end off with a pair of scissors. When he deems the bed acceptable, Jeff wanders back out to the living room to find Harry looking moderately uncomfortable, shifting around in his spot on the couch. As soon as Jeff’s in his eyesight he gets up and wraps himself around Jeff, arms around his neck and face resting on his shoulder. Jeff wraps his arms around Harry’s middle, rubbing up and down his back until he feels Harry let out a breath he probably wasn’t even aware he was holding.

“Want you to drink one more glass baby, can you do that for me?”

Harry lets a whine slide from the back of his throat that makes Jeff shiver.

“You’ve been such a good boy sweetheart, just need one more from you and I’ll get you all taken care of. Promise.” Jeff holds out his pinky finger and Harry gives a soft smile, interlocking it with his own.

Jeff grabs the first cup he sees in the cabinet, a mason jar Harry bought to drink wine out of when he was feeling artsy, and only fills it halfway, taking a bit of mercy on Harry before planning to absolutely ruin him.

Harry doesn’t chug it, seeming to have lost his taste for putting as much water into his body in as short a time as possible. Instead he sips slowly, every swallow punctuated by the bob of his throat and a slight grimace. As soon as Harry’s done Jeff attaches himself to his back, leaving a trail of smacking wet kisses on his neck and shoulder.

“Can we- can I please, God, can you please just touch me?” Harry whispers, voice cracking in the middle of his question. He’s whiny and breathless and he hasn’t even been touched yet. Just the way Jeff likes it.

“Gotta make it to bed first,” Jeff says, pulling Harry’s soft t-shirt over his head and pressing kisses to his jaw, nipping at the skin where his chin connects to his jaw bone. Jeff decides that Harry’s sweatpants might as well come off too, pressing on his soft belly just a bit before tugging them down to his calves where Harry then shimmies them off. With one more kiss, Jeff takes Harry’s hand and leads him down the hall to their bedroom.

When Harry sees their bed covered in plastic, he stops just short of the doorway and looks at Jeff worriedly. Jeff steps in front of Harry so the bed is out of his line of vision and rubs his shoulders.

“I’ve got you, H. Always got you.”

Harry gives him a thin smile, but Jeff still catches a hint of determination in his eyes.
Jeff leads him over to the bed and sits him down gently, Harry’s ass sliding a bit on the plastic. Harry leans in to kiss Jeff softly, just needing some direction that Jeff is more than willing to provide. He cups a hand over Harry’s jaw and digs his fingertips into his skin, nipping at his lower lip and giving him the gentlest suction on his tongue. Harry whines into Jeff’s mouth, putting his hands wherever he can; on Jeff’s thighs, back, and even on the top of his ass. Jeff leans him back onto the pillows, shifting so Harry’s body is essentially caged by Jeff’s.

“How we feeling, sweet pea?” Jeff asks, mentally clocking how long he’s got before Harry’s practically incoherent.

“Like I might die if you don’t take these fucking underwear off me.”

Jeff tuts at him. “Bit bratty. Thought you wanted me to make a mess out of you?”

Harry’s eyes close on their own volition. He takes a deep breath and nods his head.

“Very good. We’ll get to that soon, want to kiss you a little longer. Happen to like it.”

Harry lets a puff of air out through his nose that resembles a laugh, his eyes opening and instantly rolling back in his head when Jeff runs a hand over his crotch, fingers ghosting over the vein running up the underside of Harry’s dick.

“Jeff plea-”

Jeff cuts him off with a kiss, going immediately into the deep, wet kissing that makes Harry go a little goofy. Sure enough, his body goes completely pliant under Jeff and he lets out a steady stream of short, slightly strangled moans. Jeff pokes his fingertips into the band of the white boxer briefs Harry has on, chuckling when he takes them away and Harry whines. Finally he peels them off, making Harry moan when the thick elastic of the band drags across his dick.

“You’ve been so good, the best boy for me.”

Harry keens as a wide grin splits his features. “Always wanna be good for you. Love you.”

It’s Jeff’s turn to smile, kissing Harry all over his face and pressing his fingers against his balls, which seem to getting tighter by the second.

“Love you more,” Jeff says, reaching for Harry’s dick and starting a rhythm of faint strokes.

“Impossible,” Harry breathes.

Jeff mostly supports himself on his left forearm, still caging Harry in, and uses his right hand to stroke up and down the length of him, using the slick Harry is leaking already for just enough friction to be good but not dry. Harry’s hips have started rolling, ass crinkling the plastic on the sheets and Jeff stops touching his dick entirely, flicking Harry in the crease of his thigh to bring him back down to earth.

“Sorry, sorry.” Harry apologizes quickly, not wanting Jeff to stop touching him. It occurs to Jeff that he’s still fully dressed and he gets up off the bed, Harry’s eyes going wide.

“It’s alright baby, just got to get undressed. You’re okay.”

Harry visibly relaxes, eyes returning to their normal size and rolling over to watch Jeff shucking his jeans and shirt quickly. He’s in just underwear and about to strip those, too, when Harry whines for him and makes grabby hands. Jeff chuckles and hops back onto the bed, swinging a leg over Harry and hovering over his torso. He pins Harry’s hands above his head and presses his wrists into the mattress, warning him without words to behave. Harry, like the good boy he is, keeps his hands there as Jeff takes his time roaming over Harry’s middle with his hands and mouth, nipping at the soft skin of his belly and lightly rolling his nipples in between the pads of his fingers.

Harry was hard before, but now the hot length of him is prodding at Jeff’s lower back. Jeff reaches back and strokes right over the slit, making Harry’s eyes well up. He keeps rubbing over the leaking tip, switching to his thumb to slide the precome around with the pad of it.

“We’re gonna do colors okay baby?” Jeff asks, aware that Harry’s sliding into deeper territory rather quickly. Harry nods and squeezes his fingers into his own palms, still firmly above his head, trying his hardest to be still, to be good for Jeff.

“Jeff, ‘m so full, I can’t-” His penchant for getting misty eyed is coming through, eyes now threatening to spill over.

“You can do it baby, I know you can. Color?”

“Green, just need-”

Harry’s cut off by Jeff taking a seat right where Harry’s bladder is full and uncomfortable under his skin, Jeff’s whole body weight pressing on Harry’s lower abdomen. Harry predictably starts babbling.

“God, Jeff, ‘m full, I’m so fucking full”

Jeff rolls his hips back, changing the pressure point on Harry’s bladder, and Harry’s eyes roll back in his head.

“If you want to go, you’re going to have to come first,” Jeff says, trailing his fingers through the downy happy trail that Harry hasn’t trimmed in awhile.

“I can do it, I’ll be good, I promise.” Harry seems determined, hands now tucked under a pillow with his hips tense from trying not to move, trying to be as good as he can.

“Need you to relax sweetheart, take a deep breath for me.”
Jeff rubs down Harry’s sides while Harry focuses on breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.

“All good?” Jeff asks, and when Harry nods and says ‘yes’ Jeff swings a leg up and turns around.
He positions his body so that his back is facing Harry and Jeff is facing Harry’s dick, hard and angry red. He starts a slow double-fisted rhythm that has Harry openly moaning now, filling the whole room with noise.

Jeff removes one of his hands to grip Harry’s thigh, leaving white marks where the soft flesh is being pressed and speeds up a bit, Harry’s dick leaking steadily. After a bit, Jeff notices Harry’s thighs tensing up and he’s about to warn him about coming when he hears a sniffle.

“Jeff? Jeff can you please look at me?”

Harry’s voice is quaking, and definitely not in the good way.

Jeff swings his leg back over, whipping around as fast as he ever has. Harry’s face is red and blotchy, clearly trying not to cry, his hands still trapped under the pillow. Jeff gently slides his hands to his sides and sits cross legged next to him, petting his hair. Harry turns his face into Jeff’s thigh and wraps his arms around it, clinging to Jeff and taking deeply measured breaths.

“Harry, baby, what’s wrong?”

Harry’s breath catches in his throat a few times before he answers.

“You weren’t even looking at me, thought you didn’t-” he hiccups, then continues, “thought you didn’t want to.”

It makes Jeff’s heart twist in his chest. He leans down and pulls Harry up to eye level and wraps his arms around him to keep him upright, looking Harry straight in the eye.

“Hey. I love you, okay? I’ll always want to look at you, and I’m sorry I didn’t ask you before turning around, and especially before sitting on you,” Jeff says with a chuckle. Harry doesn’t think it’s that funny apparently.

“I liked the sitting, you can do that again, I just need you to be with me.” He goes red by the end of his sentence, a bit sheepish and very, very cute. Jeff tells him as much and he cracks a smile, which Jeff kisses.

“Okay. I’m okay,” Harry says, laying back and tucking his hands back under the pillow, a sign that he’s ready to start up again.

Jeff takes his hands from under the pillow and places them back at his sides. “I trust you to be good for me. Do you want fingers?”

Harry nods so fast his head might fall off his neck.

“Get me the stuff and put a pillow under your little butt, please.”

Harry does as he’s told with efficiency, tossing the tube of lubricant down between his legs and placing a pillow underneath him. Jeff gives him a quick kiss before taking his place in the space between Harry’s legs, laying on his stomach and propping himself up on his elbows for better leverage. He spreads Harry’s thighs slowly and groans to himself when he sees the tight little ring of his hole peeking out from between the cheeks.

“So pretty,” Jeff murmurs before squeezing a coin-size amount of lube on two fingers and sliding them through Harry’s crack, effectively slicking up the skin there.

He takes his time getting Harry ready, leaving bite marks on his thighs and pressing the tip of his index finger against his hole just until Harry keens for it before taking it away quickly. It never gets old, feeling the way Harry’s body reacts to every touch, every word, every sensation. He really is a wonder. Jeff adds a bit more lube to his finger and asks for Harry’s color.

“I, um. Green.”

Jeff pops his head up from Harry’s legs and slightly frowns. “We can take a break if you need to, sweetheart. It’s okay to ask for one.”

Harry shakes his head and says, “I’m okay, I’m just feeling a lot. Can I have a kiss, please?”

Jeff’s never been good at telling him no. He sits up and pulls Harry in by his middle so he’s in Jeff’s lap, and he wraps his legs around Jeff’s torso. Jeff scrunches his nose up and gives Harry a little Eskimo kiss before leaning in for a real one, only slipping him a little bit of tongue. It’s all well and good until Harry reaches down for his dick.

“Ah-ah. That’s mine for now,” Jeff chastises, swatting Harry’s hand away. The ends of his fingers clip Harry’s dick and he mewls, pitching forward at the waist.

“Again,” Harry moans, grabbing at Jeff’s wrist.

“Again, what? Tell me what you want.”

Harry squirms in Jeff’s lap, moving Jeff’s hand closer to his dick.

“Can you hit me again? Please?”

Jeff has to take a second to register Harry’s question, then raises a hand and swats the bright red tip of his dick with an open palm. Harry makes a noise that doesn’t sound quite human, a high-pitched moan that stops in the middle of his throat and barely escapes from his lips.


Harry has to take a shuddering breath before he answers, “Green.”

Jeff grabs the bottle of lube from beside him and slicks his two fingers back up, pressing the tips of both against his hole, moving them in tight circles. When Harry rocks down on the pads of Jeff’s fingers he gives him a meaningful tap to the flank but presses his index finger in up to the first knuckle, giving Harry what he wants without giving everything to him all at once. Harry’s having none of it.

“Jeff, Jeff, please, want more, give me more please-” His whining is cut off by Jeff pushing more of his finger into Harry with a hum.

He feels almost reverent taking care of Harry like this, knowing that there’s no one else that either of them trusts like this. He buries his finger into Harry until the second knuckle is snug against his taint and crooks it upward, Harry’s little breathy noises giving way to moans backed up by his full lung capacity.

“You want more, baby?” Jeff knows exactly what Harry wants, but that doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun trying to get him there.

“Want fingers, want you, please,” Harry babbles, tear tracks staining his cheeks as he tries with no avail to rock down on Jeff’s one finger.

Jeff pulls him impossibly closer, so his dick is trapped between their stomachs, and slips the pad of a second finger into him. Using his free hand, he presses down on Harry’s soft belly, putting pressure on his bladder.

It’s safe to say that Harry’s an absolute wreck, panting and throwing his hips in erratic circles just trying to chase down any good feeling. Jeff chooses now to pop the rest of the second finger in all at once, sending Harry into a fit of desperation. Using the heel of his hand, Jeff lifts Harry up by the ass and lets him drop back down, pushing his fingers to the hilt inside of Harry. Glancing over Harry’s shoulder, Jeff watches as his ass jiggles on the comedown, slapping against Jeff’s bare thighs. Harry, somehow, is giving as good as he’s getting, fucking down on Jeff’s fingers and using his free hand to make long strokes on Jeff dick, but not without asking.

“Can I? Want to touch, want to make you feel good,” Harry mumbles, tongue sounding thick in his mouth.

“Please and thank you,” Jeff says against Harry’s neck and Harry giggles- a light, airy sound contrasting the thick energy in the room.

Harry tucks his fingers into Jeff’s underwear and groans out loud when he feels the steady trickle of precome flowing down the thick length of Jeff’s dick. He pulls his fingers out of the elastic band and takes them into his plush mouth, savoring the taste and letting his eyes flutter shut slowly.

Jeff hums contentedly, curling his fingers up and into Harry’s prostate and rubbing up against it with a firm touch. There’s spit practically pouring from Harry’s mouth onto his own fingers, so Jeff takes the opportunity to grab him by the wrist and shove his hand back onto Jeff’s dick. Harry takes the hint that wasn’t really a hint, jacking Jeff with a practiced easiness. A little too easy, if you ask Jeff.

He quickens the pace of his fingers, thrusting into Harry and encouraging him to bounce, ass coming down hard on Jeff’s legs. The hand Harry is using to jack up and down on Jeff’s dick starts to stutter a bit, creating delicious friction. It isn’t too much longer before Jeff can feel himself starting to tumble over the edge.

“Such a good boy, going to make me come,” Jeff chokes out, Harry’s eyes shooting open and beaming a glowing green up at him.

Harry seems to have a newfound purpose, his eyes clearing up while that glint of determination returns, his hand speeding up. He leans down and opens his mouth, letting spit leak out of the corners of his lips and fall onto Jeff’s dick. He keeps his mouth open, drooling down onto his hand. The spit keeps pouring out, trickling down from Jeff’s dick onto his thighs and just starting to coat his balls. Jeff’s still fucking his fingers into Harry, who’s whining is reaching the point of breaking right in the middle.

“So close H, you’re so, so fucking good.”

Harry moves in closer to Jeff, lifting his mouth and pressing Jeff’s dick into his stomach, letting Jeff rub off on him. He rolls his torso up to create more sensation, and Jeff latches onto Harry’s neck and bites down hard with a groan before spilling onto Harry’s skin.

He comes for ages, groaning into Harry’s neck and using his tongue to soothe the bite marks he left while he shivers through the aftershocks. Harry’s voice snaps him out of his haze.

“Feel good?”

Even when he’s only half coherent he’s still a cocky little shit, a shit-eating grin taking up his whole face. Jeff flicks his balls with his free hand and scissors the fingers inside of him.

“Don’t get cocky with me, baby. Shouldn’t forget that I could not let you come.”

Harry’s cheeks flush and he picks back up on the bouncing rhythm, which Jeff stops by pushing down on his thigh.

“Now you’re just going to have to take what I give you and stay perfectly still.”

Harry nods and lets a breath out against Jeff’s chest, still covered in his come. He seems to know not to be too chatty, not wanting to test Jeff’s patience. Jeff rewards him by swiping a fingertip through the come splattering Harry’s chest and pushing it into his mouth, letting him have a taste.

“Thank you,” Harry mumbles after Jeff pulls his finger away.

Jeff does nothing to slow down, pumping his two fingers in and out of Harry in hard, rapid thrusts, keeping him held down with one hand splayed over his thigh. Harry’s eyes cloud over and go slightly vacant, his jaw dropping open and pretty pink mouth forming an ‘o’. His body goes liquid, Jeff having to take his hand off Harry’s thigh and place it on his back to hold him up.

“Color, baby, tell me your color.”

Harry tries to focus on Jeff, his head rolling on his neck. It takes him nearly a whole minute to respond.

“Green, ‘m green.”

Harry’s face is slack, eyelids hanging low and shoulders slumping, and his speech isn’t as clear as Jeff needs it to be. It’s obvious that he still feels good, pushing back against Jeff’s fingers, but it’s also just as obvious that he’s absolutely exhausted.

“You’ve been so good for me sweetheart, the most beautiful boy,” Jeff coos, continuing with, “Want you to come soon, know you want to let go.”

“Yes, yes, good, please.”

Jeff pulls Harry’s face into his neck and rubs his prostate with new purpose; getting Harry to the edge and letting him fly off of it. It’s not long before Harry’s mouthing at Jeff’s neck, grazing his skin with teeth and nosing at the sweat on his hairline. His hips are bucking erratically and even though he isn’t capable of speaking, Jeff knows exactly what he needs.


“Go ahead baby, it’s okay.”

That’s all Harry needs. He knocks his chest against Jeff’s, letting out a desperate wail and shooting up onto both of their stomachs, long stripes of hot come covering him almost to the nipples. Jeff keeps his fingers inside of Harry, gradually slowing the pace until he’s completely still and letting Harry ride out his orgasm as needed. Harry’s hips are still moving on their own accord, seemingly by muscle memory, and Jeff has to physically pin Harry’s thigh down to his own to get him to stop. Harry’s chest is heaving, tucking his face into the junction between Jeff’s neck and shoulder.

Jeff just barely presses on Harry’s belly when he hears, “Break, yellow.”

Jeff nods and wraps his arms around Harry’s shoulders, taking measured breaths to try to encourage Harry to breathe with him. He presses light kisses to Harry’s skin, putting no intention behind them, and rubs his back. Harry’s mostly silent, letting out an occasional noise when Jeff hits a knot in his back, but Jeff isn’t concerned. He knows Harry isn’t very chatty when he drifts like this, and he knows how to read him easily enough. Currently he’s right on the verge of being able to use proper speech again, starting to wiggle in Jeff’s lap instead of hanging off his shoulder like dead weight.

“Do you want me to take my fingers out now?” Jeff asks, continuing to stroke Harry’s skin to life, his shoulder blades breaking out in goosebumps.

He moves around a bit, testing the sensitivity waters, and gives a small nod. Jeff drags his fingers out slowly and keeps them splayed over Harry’s ass, never too far away.

“How do you feel, sweets? Can you talk?”

Harry nods and says, “Floaty. Sit on me. Want to be empty.”

Jeff, of course, obliges, laying little kisses on Harry’s cheek bones before gingerly placing him back against the pillows. He takes his previous place over Harry’s middle, one leg over each side of his hips, and lowers himself down until he’s fully seated square in the middle of Harry’s pelvis. As soon as the pressure of Jeff’s body hits him, Harry’s hand shoots out and latches on to Jeff’s, needing some grounding.

“You’re doing great baby, such a good, good boy,” Jeff says, rocking his hips back and forth to create different pressure points on Harry’s bladder.

He reaches back and gently adjusts Harry’s now soft dick so it’s pointing down towards his feet and not directly at Jeff’s lower back. Harry’s eyebrows are knitted together, mouth twisted up in concentration, and Jeff thinks that he might need this to be sweet and not tense. He takes a thumb and swipes it through the deep wrinkle in Harry’s forehead, effectively rubbing all the tension out of his face. Harry’s eyes flutter open and his face splits open in a smile, cheeks going pink. Jeff lifts their joined hands and kisses over each one of Harry’s knuckles, paying special attention to the one with a silver band on it.

“Love you,” Harry whispers, his voice shot and gone breathy.

“I love you too,” Jeff answers back, pressing his weight into the back of his hips.

It’s then that Harry lets go.

Jeff can hear it as Harry’s bladder finally empties, softly splashing against the plastic, Harry releasing a deep and guttural moan that Jeff can feel in his thighs. The fine hairs on Harry’s legs are covered now from what Jeff can see, giving off a sheen in the lamp light of the bedroom. The look on Harry’s face is pure relief, lips hanging open and eyelids low, using what strength he’s got left in his arms to pull Jeff into him. Jeff tangles his fingers in his hair and whispers all kinds of praises and encouragements in his ear; telling Harry how beautiful and loved and good he is.

After a while of snuggling up together, Harry suggests a shower; which Jeff could not agree more with. He gets off the bed as gently as he can, trying not to jostle the mess, and steps into the bathroom to run the hot water before helping a wobbly Harry out of bed.

“Go on ahead babe, I’m gonna take care of this,” Jeff says, gesturing to the soaked plastic on top of the bed. Harry goes to protest but Jeff stops him.

“Harry, it’s fine. I’ll be in in just a second, promise.”

Harry nods sheepishly and gives Jeff a sweet kiss on the cheek before heading into the bathroom.

Jeff decides the best way to tackle this is to scoop the plastic up by the edges, all the liquid running to the middle. He walks as quickly and carefully to the kitchen window as he can, opening the window and chucking the plastic and its contents into the garbage can below.
He pops his head in the bathroom door and smiles to himself when he hears Harry humming.

After they’re both scrubbed down and glowing pink, they get changed into their most comfortable clothes and decide to set up camp on the couch, just in case. Jeff lays out and Harry follows suit, plopping on top of Jeff and settling his head right on his chest. The TV is on but neither of them have the energy to watch it, too wrapped up in the soft, cozy feeling of the blankets and each other. Jeff smiles down at a sleeping Harry, his heartbeat being the thing that lulls Jeff into a peaceful sleep.


Two days later

Family movie night has been a smash hit so far, all the boys being particularly engrossed in The Little Mermaid.

“You’d be a fantastic prince Eric, you know,” Jeff whispers, leaning over to look at Harry conspiratorially.

“Oh shut up, Jeffery, you big sap. Hey, tell me when Part of Your World comes on, I’ve got to pee.”

Harry gets up off the couch and almost makes it to the hallway when he stops and throws a coy look over his shoulder, saying, “You want to come with?”

Jeff just chuckles, knowing that Harry has no idea what he’s got planned for Friday night.