“What about,” Harry says slowly, leaning into Nick’s side and practically licking into Nick’s ear, “Finchy?”
“Oh god,” Nick says, honestly appalled. Finchy, god; this is why Nick typically chooses.
“Ian?” Harry suggests, and Nick can’t keep himself from making a gagging noise.
“No co-workers,” he says firmly, and Harry draws back a few inches to pout at him. “Plus, Aimee’d have me bollocks.”
“No co-workers means no one from the band,” Harry points out. “No Louis, then.”
“I don’t have a crush on Louis bloody Tomlinson,” Nick says, perhaps a little too loud, since Pixie gives him a funny look from the other sofa.
“Alright,” Harry says. Nick doesn’t have to be looking at him to know that he’s rolling his eyes, same as he does every time he brings it up. “How about-”
“Harry,” Nick says. “Your choices are terrible. Let me have a look round, then.”
Cazza’s outdone herself for the party tonight - there are fairy lights strung everywhere, and a few guitars and joints floating around, and honest to god alcopops, which Nick hasn’t had since uni. “The theme’s teenage summers,” Caroline’d said when they came in the door, although summers for him as a teenager had consisted of sneaking drinks off his dad’s liquor cabinet and trying not to wank over the thought of Douglas Brady from upper sixth.
He knows about half the people here, which means that he and Harry can’t be as loved up as they usually are. They’re sort of an open secret amongst all of their friends, but Nick’s a lot more careful around strangers than Harry is; he doesn’t want to be the reason Harry’s forced out before he’s ready. Still, when they’d arrived Harry’d leaned against him and whispered that he wanted to pick someone up tonight. They haven’t done since before Harry’s last tour, so Nick’d instantly agreed.
There are a few potentials that he’s got his eye on, including the bloke currently talking to Pixie. He’s tall and well fit, with muscles that strain at the sleeves of his shirt, the complete opposite of the small, lithe dancer that they’d picked up last time.
“The bloke with Pix,” Nick murmurs to Harry. “He’d have a go, he’s been looking at you all night.”
“The one with the beard?”
Harry sets down his bright blue alcopop and runs a quick hand through his hair. “Alright,” he says, giving Nick a lilting smirk as he stands up.
Watching Harry pull would be like watching Beyonce in the studio, Nick supposes. It’s art happening right in front of his face. Harry drapes an arm around Pixie and leans into the bloke’s face, smiling so all his dimples show in full force. The bloke looks a little stunned, to be honest, which is how Nick feels on a constant basis around Harry, so it’s not like he can judge.
“Nicholas,” a voice says delightedly from beside him, and the next thing he knows he has an lapful of Caroline.
“Lovely party,” Nick says, trying to keep her hair from creeping into his mouth.
“Worked out alright,” she says modestly. “Why are you all on your lonesome? Where’s your boy?”
“Off,” Nick says vaguely, waving a hand. Caroline wiggles around until his hand is on her hip, almost bare in short shorts. “Mingling. Being friendly, like.”
“Friendly,” Caroline says, peering towards where Harry’s now got his hand on the bloke’s arm. Pixie’s long gone. “Right.”
“Right,” Nick repeats.
“Everything’s okay, though, yeah?” Caroline asks, swinging back to face him. Her tone is light, but her face looks serious. “With you and Harry?”
“Yes?” Nick says, after a second's pause. “Is it- why?”
Caroline shrugs, her jumper slipping a little off her shoulder. “It’s nothing.”
“Cazza,” Nick says firmly.
“I know what Harry looks like when he’s on the pull, that’s all,” Caroline says gently, like she’s trying to break bad news to him.
Nick’s not quite sure how to say that sometimes he and Harry like to fuck other people, too, so he just takes a sip of his drink and raises his eyebrows.
“How was your holiday, then?” Nick asks as a distraction. “Ibiza, again, was it?”
“Oh, it was so lovely,” Caroline starts, animated. When she’s not looking, Nick catches Harry’s eye and tries to make an abort mission motion without actually moving his body.
Thankfully Harry seems to get the message, because within a few minutes he’s sinking down on the couch next to the pair of them.
“Caroline,” he says warmly, leaning forward to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Ace party, I feel like I’m in my teens again.”
“So what, last year, then?” Caroline asks. Harry throws his head back to laugh, showing the long line of his throat. Nick’s abruptly disappointed that they’re not taking anyone home with them tonight. “Everything alright with you?” she asks, because she doesn’t know how to leave well enough alone.
“Good, yeah,” Harry says.
“I saw you were talking to Jason,” Caroline says. “Sweet fellow, don’t you think?”
“He seemed nice enough,” Harry says, blasé. “Thought about asking him back to Grimmy’s for a threeway.”
It can be said like that, then. Nick chokes on absolutely nothing.
Caroline laughs a little, like she’s not sure whether or not Harry’s joking. “Sure,” she says.
“Um,” Nick coughs.
“Maybe you could join us, instead,” Harry says smiling at her.
“Oh, yeah,” Caroline agrees, clearly taking the piss. “Just find me after the party winds down and we can get to it.”
“Cheers,” Harry says. Even Nick can’t tell if he’s being serious; Caroline’s still laughing when she swings off Nick’s lap to mingle some more.
“Haz,” Nick says softly, leaning closer to whisper directly in his ear, and maybe nuzzle at his cheek a bit. “Do you really want to? With Caroline?”
Harry’s still for a second, before turning to look at him. This close Nick can see the individual flecks in his eyes. “I would do, yeah,” Harry says. “But I know- I mean, we haven’t ever, with a woman. I know it’d be different.”
“Only a little,” Nick says dryly.
It’s not as though he hasn’t snogged nearly all of his female friends before, including Cazza, and back at uni he’d had sex with a few different girls, but it’s been ages since he’s seen a naked woman’s body in any sort of sexual situation.
“It doesn’t mean anything that it’s her,” Harry says quietly, “that I want to with an ex.”
“I didn’t think that it did,” Nick says. He looks away from Harry for a second, weighing out his options. “If this is what you want, then I’m in.”
“Yeah?” Harry asks. He wets his lips a little, and Nick can’t help but track the movement.
“You have to go convince her, though,” Nick warns him, and Harry just laughs. Knowing him, it’s already a done deal.
The rest of the night flies by. At some point Florence pulls Nick to his feet and whisks him away for some karaoke - Spice Girls and McFly - which Nick nails, if he does say so. He loses Harry for a good couple of hours, wherein he succeeds in not getting spectacularly drunk despite Pixie’s efforts. Eventually he finds Harry in the back garden arguing with Sam about integrity in pop music, or summat like that.
Caroline’s flitting around, offering drinks and food and generally being a good hostess, something that Nick’s never quite got the hang of. He and Harry stick around after people start to stumble home or pass out, and find eventually Caroline alone in the kitchen tipping empty bottles into a bin.
“Cazza,” Harry says cheekily. “I’ve come to collect my promise you made me earlier.”
“You’re not having me on, are you?” Caroline asks, hands on her hips. “Nick?”
Nick holds up both his hands in a placating gesture. “If you’re talking about a threesome, then no one’s having you on.”
Caroline chews on her lip. “You’ll be okay with that?”
“I’ve seen vaginas before,” Nick points out, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, it’ll be Harry doing everything to you, I’m okay to be in the same room as your lady business.”
“Lady business,” Harry snorts, slipping his hand into Nick’s.
“Harry’s quite keen on it,” Nick says, tipping his head in Harry’s direction. “It’ll be a laugh, innit.”
Caroline hesitates, until Harry steps forward to take one of her hands as well with a cheeky wink.
“It’ll be something,” Caroline says, wry laughter in her voice. “Alright, alright. C’mon, then, let’s get started, it’s already half three and I’d like to get some sleep tonight.”
“So romantic,” Nick says, following her up the stairs, Harry traipsing behind him. “I feel very wooed.”
Cazza only snorts.
There’s silence once Caroline’s bedroom door is closed, a sort of awkward one that Nick hates within two seconds, until Harry licks his lips and sweeps his gaze down Caroline. “Can I kiss you?”
“Of course,” Caroline says, softer than Nick’s ever seen. She tugs Harry in and gives him a proper snog, one that involves a lot of tongue and roaming hands. Nick lurks behind Harry, not quite sure where he’s going to fit. They’ve never got off with a woman before, only always men, but Nick has snogged Caroline a few times before. He’ll snog anyone when he’s drunk, even the pope. Maybe especially the pope.
“We should have a game plan,” Harry says, once he’s drawn back. Nick crowds against him from behind and presses a quick kiss to the nape of his neck, before reaching around him to grab Caroline’s hand for a small squeeze and another quick kiss. “Let’s do this proper, like.”
“Do you remember the gift you gave me a few years back?” Caroline asks Harry, a wicked smirk crossing her face.
Harry pauses. “I remember the melon basket,” he says eventually, and Nick has to bite his shoulder to stifle a laugh.
Caroline rolls her eyes and crosses over to her bedside drawer, digging around for a second before emerging triumphantly with what appears to be a bright green dildo.
“Oh,” Harry says, eyes brightening. “Yeah, I remember that.”
“So,” Cazza says, running a hand through her hair. “I was thinking maybe I could fuck you.”
Harry shifts a little in Nick’s arms, just enough to let Nick know how much he likes the idea. “How about,” Nick says, “if you make Cazza come three times tonight, she gets to fuck you while you deepthroat me.”
Caroline’s eyebrows shoot up at that, and the back of Harry’s neck turns a bright red.
“Spitroasting?” Harry breathes. There’s no way that Caroline can’t hear how turned on he’s got just by the thought of it. Nick snakes a hand down to rub lightly at his cock through his jeans; Harry’s already half hard. “It’s been a while since we’ve done that.”
“Were you this kinky when we were together?” Caroline asks idly, her eyes fixated on Nick’s hand. “I don’t remember that.”
“Well, he never bought me a sex toy,” Nick responds. “Or a melon basket, for that matter.”
“D’you want my melons, Nicholas?” Harry asks, resting his head back against Nick’s shoulder and giving him a warm smile. Nick can’t help but lean in for a long kiss; he’s only human.
When he comes back up Cazza’s already done away with her top, and Harry instantly pulls her in for another kiss. Nick’s content to just watch, for a minute, the way that Harry spans a hand across Caroline’s ribcage, the other going to palm at her nipple through her lace bra. Nick shifts a little, hooking his chin on Harry’s shoulder so he has a better view; he loves watching Harry take care of others.
That’s what it’s all about, really. He likes sharing Harry, seeing Harry work people over until they’re writhing and falling apart in front of him. They get the little bit that Harry gives them for a few hours, and he gets Harry for the rest of his life. He gets Harry in the mornings with creases lining his face; in the late hours of the night when they’re curled up together watching the Simpsons; at tea when Harry gets stroppy over the takeaway taking too long. Nobody else gets Harry in those moments, so it’s only selfishishness on Nick’s part to share him in this when all the others don’t get any of the best parts of him.
Nick has, crumpled in the back pocket of some trousers he bunged in the back of the wardrobe, a list of ideas for his and Harry’s wedding, which includes a spring ceremony in the back garden with Pig as the ring bearer. Nobody gets to have Harry like Nick gets to have him.
“Three times, huh,” Harry says slowly, mouthing across Caroline’s collarbone. “Think you’re up for it?”
“I’m thirty-four, love,” Caroline says with a laugh. “I doubt I’ll have three orgasms tonight.”
“We’ll fuck you still, Haz, no matter.” Nick nips lightly at the skin directly beneath his ear, and Harry shivers.
“I know,” he says, “but it’s like, a personal challenge now.”
Caroline laughs, low and husky.
Nick watches as Harry brushes his hand lower and lower, until he’s tugging at the button on Caroline’s shorts. “Want to get on the bed?” Harry murmurs, burying his face into her neck. Nick digs his thumbs into Harry’s stomach, right above the laurels.
“Alright,” Cazza sighs. She wriggles out of her shorts as she steps towards the bed, then, with a quick, searching glance at the both of them that Nick’s sure he wasn’t supposed to see, she does away with her knickers and bra as well.
“Well?” she says, arching an eyebrow their way. Nick lets go of Harry so he can clamber onto the bed and settle down in the vee of her thighs. “Wait, no, kits off as well, boys. I’m not alone in this.”
Harry instantly sits up to strip off, of course; Nick fondly rolls his eyes. He takes a little longer to tug off his own shirt and jeans, then his pants, and settles onto the bed next to Caroline’s outstretched leg. Next to the pair of them he feels soft and flabby, so he hunches over to try and hide his stomach a tad better.
“You remember what you’re doing down there, Styles?” Caroline teases, as Harry lays back down.
“It’s a bit like maths,” Harry says slowly, resting his chin on Caroline’s hipbone. There’s a brief silence.
“Dead boring?” Nick says, then cracks up. Caroline chucks a pillow at him; he easily dodges it.
“It’s not like maths,” Caroline insists, tugging on a lock of Harry’s hair. “What’s that even mean?”
“You know,” Harry says, which is clearly untrue, “it’s like when you go away for summer holidays, then come back and you’ve sort of forgotten how maths work.”
Nick thinks he might break something laughing.
“I’m really glad I’ve decided to do this, then,” Caroline says wryly, letting her head fall back. “Given you’ve forgotten how vaginas work.”
Nick may honestly sprain a rib laughing. Is that a thing that can happen? Spraining a rib? “Oh god,” he manages to gasp out.
“Hey,” Harry drawls with a whine. When Nick’s able to look up again, Harry’s pouting. “You didn’t let me finish.”
“Well, we didn’t have five hours,” Nick teases, and Harry rolls his eyes and huffs.
“What I meant,” Harry says, dragging his fingertips up Caroline’s thigh. Nick can see Caroline’s breath hitch when he reaches her cunt, the way her breasts jiggle and her thighs tense, “is that I’ll remember as soon as I get in there.”
He doesn’t waste any time in dipping his head down to lick at her. From his angle Nick can’t see any of the details, not that he’s that interested in Caroline’s naughty bits, but he can see the way Harry grips her hipbone, knuckles white, and the way the muscles in his back shift as he draws his other hand up to work into her. Harry’s hips are resting against the edge bed, but from the small, restless jerk of his hips Nick’d bet anything that he’s hard.
Nick’s seen Cazza in all sorts of situations - on set, in the studio, in restaurants and bars and his own flat - but he’s never seen her fist the sheets like she can’t bloody help herself, he’s never seen the way her breath hitches as she bites back a moan. This, right now, feels more intimate than anything else they’ve done with random hook-ups from clubs. He reaches over to catch her hand, interlocking their fingers together. She squeezes his hand and lets out a long, pleasurable sigh.
It’s completely silent in the room, other than the rustle of bedsheets and Caroline herself, until Harry does something with his hand that makes her groan loudly; Harry groans, too, long and gutteral, and just like that Caroline’s hips jerk up, fucking into his mouth, and she’s coming. Her entire body tenses, and her face screws up in what looks like pain, before she slumps listlessly against the bed all at once.
“Holy shit,” she breathes out.
Harry emerges from between her legs, his face wet with slick and his lips red and shiny. He looks obscene. He instantly tugs Nick towards him and smashes their lips together in a frenzied kiss. Nick tries very hard not to crush Caroline’s thigh with his own body, as well as to not think about the fact that he now knows what she tastes like.
“Fuck me,” Harry moans directly into his mouth, which is an order Nick can’t not follow.
“Yeah,” he says, a little helplessly, sliding a hand down Harry’s side to urge him to roll over. Caroline, thank god, seems to understand what he’s getting at, because she shifts around until Harry can splay out on his back directly in the middle of the bed, his hair wild and tangled around his face, his eyes squinched closed and mouth falling open, his cock flushed and hard.
Nick takes a moment to kneel next to him and just look at him, and he feels Caroline kneel next to him. He blindly reaches out for her hand again, which she easily slips into his, and they both take stock of Harry in front of them.
Eventually Harry cracks an eye open, beginning to look impatient. “Are you just going to sit there?” he asks, with a hint of a whine. “I’d like to be fucked, please.”
He wiggles his bum to emphasize his point, causing his cock to bob from side to side.
“Alright, alright,” Nick says, not able to help his grin from slipping out. “Fame’s gone to your head, you weren’t nearly this spoiled before.”
Caroline hums a little in disagreement. “He’s always been a little greedy,” she says, and playfully pinches at Harry’s thigh when he huffs in irritation. She turns to Nick. “D’you want to prep him, or shall I?”
“Well, someone better prep me or I’m doing it myself,” Harry says, definitely whining this time.
“Stroppy,” Nick says. “I’ll do it, love, where’s the lube?”
Caroline leans over to her bedside drawer again and tosses Nick a small tube. Prepping Harry is one of Nick’s favourite things, all told; a flush always runs up his chest, leaving him red and blotchy, and he gets loud and irritated if he feels like Nick’s not doing it quick enough. This Harry is Nick’s, too; not the polished popstar that the rest of the world has, something imperfect and flawed and all his.
Nick takes his time warming up the lube between his fingers, until Harry half sits up to glare at him, then he arranges Harry’s legs around him so he can see Harry’s arse as he massages a finger lightly along his taint. Nick wasn’t hard, before, but he can feel his cock start to thicken just from moving his finger lower to rub against Harry’s arsehole. Harry’s breathing is already unsteady and panting.
“Alright, love?” Nick asks, vaguely aware of the shift of the bed as Caroline moves to sit behind him, her breasts swaying against his back. He doesn’t mind, not when he’s able to wiggle his finger inside Harry and watch as Harry moans.
He works one finger in all the way, then gently brushes it against Harry’s prostate, loving the way Harry’s stomach muscles clench and unclench in an effort to stay still. He thrusts shallowly for a few minutes, a gentle in and out, before he draws his hand back to add another. Harry clenches down on them as soon as both fingers are inside him.
“I love getting fucked,” Caroline says, her mouth grazing Nick’s ear. “It makes me feel so full up. D’you like that as well, Harry?”
Harry only groans in response, and Nick takes the opportunity to slip another finger in. Harry’s so hot inside, and so responsive to everything Nick’s doing. This is it, Nick thinks helplessly, staring down at him. This is the type of love that they write stories and songs about, the all-encompassing feeling of rightness and contentment when you’re with a person.
He pulls his fingers out to stop himself from getting too sappy; he’s never been able to really separate sex from his feelings.
“You ready, Cazza?” Nick asks, turning his head to look back at her, and Caroline holds up the lubed-up dildo with a bright smile.
“Wait,” Harry says. He sits up and scoots back a little, until he clunks back against the headboard. “Nick, sit on my chest and I’ll take you like this.”
Nick’s dick is definitely interested in the proceedings now. He straddles Harry’s waist and knee-walks forward until his cock is bumping into Harry’s chin. Harry tilts his head to look up at him with a small smile, which Nick instantly returns.
“Oh, and don’t touch my dick yet,” Harry says quickly, and Nick turns around to see Caroline is frozen guiltily, arm outstretched. “I want to fuck Cazza after Nick comes.”
Caroline wrinkles her nose fondly and ducks down to press a kiss against Harry’s inner thigh. Nick takes his own cock in his hand and rests it against Harry’s bottom lip, trying not to react when Harry darts his tongue out to lick at it.
“Ready?” he asks softly, and Harry’s eyes flutter shut as he nods and lets his mouth fall open.
Nick slides his cock in slowly, letting Harry get used to the feeling of it. The first time Harry’d tried to deepthroat him Nick’d ended up accidentally choking him, and they gave up trying to have sex to eat ice cream in an attempt to numb Harry’s throat. He can feel Harry tense up underneath his thighs, and he chances a look over his shoulder to see Caroline slowly pushing the dildo deep into Harry.
“That’s a love,” Nick says, drawing his attention back to Harry’s face. He pushes his own dick in a little deeper, letting the wet heat of Harry’s mouth envelop him. He feels so good. Harry always feels so good. He looks down as he pulls out and pushes back in, watching his cock slide between Harry’s lips, in and out, his tongue laving at the underside of Nick’s cock. Fuck.
Harry opens his eyes and looks up at Nick, and then the idiot tries to smile, mouth curving around Nick’s cock.
“Stop,” Nick says, trying to sound stern, but that just makes Harry smile wider. Nick pulls himself out completely. “You absolute nutter, what’re you doing?”
“Just feels good, innit,” Harry says. Caroline must do something brilliant with the dildo, because Harry gasps and tries to buck up underneath Nick’s straddling perch.
Just seeing him like this, so open and wrecked and happy, causes Nick’s cock to blurt a bit of precome.
“Come in my mouth,” Harry says, looking steadily up at him.
“No being weird this time,” Nick chides, and what sounds like a muffled laugh comes from Caroline behind him. Immediately, almost like an apology, she does something that causes Harry to try and buck up again, and his eyes close with pleasure.
Nick guides his cock back into Harry’s mouth, and fucks in and out a few times before settling into a rhythm. Harry writhes around a little, clearly feeling overstimulated.
It is, embarrassingly enough, only about ten minutes before Nick’s on the edge of coming, and he falters a little in his rhythm to lay a shaking hand against Harry’s cheek.
“I’m going to come,” he tells Harry, who only hums an agreement around his cock.
Nick pushes in and out a few more times, and then comes with a cut-off grunt, hands resting on either side of Harry’s head against the headboard. He feels the orgasm rolling through his body, a white hot electricity that centers around Harry’s lush mouth.
He eases himself off Harry when he’s done, annoyed to find that his knees hurt from kneeling. He’s getting old.
As soon as he’s slipped completely off Harry, Caroline’s up and in Harry’s face, giving him a deep kiss. Harry’s cock is still rock hard and jutting up into the air, and Nick moves a little to press a light kiss to the very tip. From here he can see that Caroline’s left the dildo inside of Harry, nestled deep in his arse. Nick taps it lightly, and Harry lets out a moan.
“Can I fuck you now?” he asks Caroline, and she responds by pulling him in for another deep kiss. Her backside from this angle is definitely better to look at than Nick’s was, he’s sure. He’s a little jealous for a moment, before reminding himself that his legs are better.
“Condom in the drawer,” Caroline tells Nick, then dives in for another deep kiss. Nick fumbles around her bedside drawer, which contains handcuffs, three different kinds of lube, what Nick thinks is a vibrator, and some anal beads. Nick’s own sex drawer has Tesco’s brand lube and a box of tissues.
He smoothly rolls a condom onto Harry, then moves out of the way when Cazza starts to move backward, and without any warning she sinks down onto Harry, sitting all the way down until her ass is flush against his thighs.
“Shit,” Nick says in admiration.
Harry reaches a hand up to palm at Caroline’s tits as she starts fucking up and down, instantly setting a quick, insistent pace. Nick crabwalks until he’s sat next to Harry’s head; he pets a few curls out of Harry’s face, then keeps his hand there, stroking his forehead gently.
“Nick,” Harry moans, then, “Cazza, god, you feel- god, you feel so good.”
Nick watches as Harry brings a hand down to Caroline’s clit again, and it seems that in seconds she’s shuddering, her head thrown back. Harry bites at his bottom lip and thrusts once, twice, and then grips at Caroline’s hips hard when he comes.
“God,” he says, letting his head flop onto the pillow. He turns his head to look at Nick, still flushed a little damp from sweat, and Nick leans in for a good, long kiss.
“Fuck,” Harry says, breaking the kiss suddenly, and Nick looks up to see Caroline carefully pulling out the dildo. She winks a little when she catches Nick’s eye.
“Well, that was a treat,” she says, laying the dildo on the table and then stretching out on Harry’s other side. “Not quite what I planned tonight.”
“It was only two times,” Harry mumbles. He’s always been one to pass out after an orgasm. He hasn’t even moved to take the condom off his now softening cock. “I wanted to get to three.”
“I think it was good enough, Styles,” Caroline says.
“Just good enough?” Harry asks, cracking an eye open. He’s honest to god pouting.
“You’re a sex god,” Nick says, rolling his eyes. “It was amazing and probably the best night of her life. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Yep,” Harry says, then closes his eyes again.
“C’mon, popstar.” Nick sits up and swings his legs off the bed, peering around the floor for his pants. “Caroline doesn’t want us both to sleep here, I’m sure.”
Cazza gives him an affectionate smile. “I’ll call for a cab.”
“Brilliant,” Nick says, smiling back, and leans over Harry to give her a soft kiss.
She slips on a robe and out of the room, presumably to find her phone. Nick hopes there aren’t still a few guests milling about, because none of them were exactly worried about staying quiet.
“Up, up, you complete sloth,” Nick says, poking Harry in the side. “Clean yourself off, you’re disgusting.”
“You clean me off,” Harry mutters. Still, he grudgingly sits up and gingerly slips the condom off himself with a grimace.
They’re just slipping into their clothes when Cazza comes back in.
“This won’t be awkward now, right?” she says straight away. “I don’t think it would be, but I just wanted to clear it up before anything could happen.”
“Not awkward at all,” Harry reassures her. He steps forward to give her a kiss on both cheeks. “Don’t be a stranger, alright?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Caroline says, waving him off. “As if I can keep track of your mad famous schedule.”
“How about lunch next week?” Nick says, stepping forward to kiss her cheeks as well. “There’s that new vegan place Daisy was raving about.”
“Oh, I’ve been wanting to try that place,” Harry says. “Come with us, Cazza.”
“Yeah, alright,” Caroline says, smiling at the both of them. “Now get out of my room so I can get some sleep.”
The only lights on in the rest of the house are the fairy lights, and they make even the passed out party-goers look soft and blurry, like the vintage filter Harry likes to use on some of his selfies. The cab hasn’t arrived yet, but it’s warm enough out that they can lean against the fence for a bit.
“Hiya, popstar,” Nick says, nudging at Harry’s shoulder with his own.
“Hiya, Grimmy,” Harry responds, smiling slowly at him. “Thanks for, well, tonight. And everything.”
“Yeah, well,” Nick says eloquently. “I love you, or whatever.”
“Or whatever,” Harry agrees. He leans his head against Nick’s shoulder and wraps an arm around his waist, and buries his nose into Harry’s hair.
This Harry is his.