Work Text:
Niall fumbles with the keys in his hands as he tries to find the correct one to let him in his apartment. It’s three in the morning, his eyes are tired, and the dim light of the building’s hallway is doing nothing to help him unlock the damn door. After shoving just about everything on his keychain into the keyhole, he finally gets the right one, shutting his eyes and whispering a quiet finally before he pushes the door open.
He hadn’t meant to get home so late, but Harry looked so soft and peaceful when he slept that Niall couldn’t resist cuddling him, especially after Harry had been so good taking his dick and letting him fuck him with a vibrator. Time gets away from Niall more frequently nowadays and it’s turning into a reckless habit of spending all his time with Harry, while mindlessly ignoring every incoming call from his wife.
He wants to slip in bed and dream about all the things he and Harry can do between their busy schedules, but once he enters his bedroom he sees that the right bedside lamp is on and his wife is sitting on the bed with a scowl on her face and a book in her lap. She wastes no time on interrogating him.
“Where have you been?” She takes her reading glasses off and throws them on the duvet.
“Work,” Niall says simply, tugging off his coat and toeing his shoes off while she continues to stare at him.
“It’s three in the morning, Niall. You never stay at work that long. What’s going on?”
Her eyes are hopeful and genuinely concerned as long as she’s not faced with the reality she has been skirting around. Niall feels guilty for keeping her up this late, but not enough to stop what he’s been doing.
“It was a long day and I had so much to do, but I fell asleep in the office around midnight and-” he pretends to fade out when he goes into their connected bathroom and begins to brush his teeth.
He washes away the traces of wine and another man’s tongue from his mouth and heads back in the room where his wife, Emily, follows him with her eyes and silently tries to work out where the hell her husband could have been if he wasn’t at work.
He slides under the covers with his back facing Emily. The sheets are cold on his side and he shivers at the memory of how warm Harry’s bed was when they were clinking wine glasses and tumbling under the sheets while a movie played in the background to muffle their noises from Harry’s roommates. His body was even warmer when he had Harry pressed naked against him as he slowly dragged in and out of him causing the headboard of the bed to hit the wall.
He’s practically already dreaming when Emily shakes him awake again.
“Niall!” she hisses.
“What?” he grunts, annoyance lacing his voice.
“You left the bathroom light on.”
Niall grumbles, but he still throws the covers back and stumbles to bathroom to shut off the light. The two of them have been on edge lately, more so Emily than him, but the eery air between them can be suffocating. It’s obvious that she suspects Niall is doing a lot more than just working late nights, but he tries to remain calm and keeps his answers thorough so she doesn’t feel like he’s hiding much.
Niall gets back in bed and his eyes are starting to fall heavy again, when he suddenly feels a kiss on his shoulder left by his wife, who then turns around and settles in for the night. He’s wide awake now; the faint kiss burns through his white undershirt and leaves a steaming print on his skin. He stares into the darkness for a few minutes, thinking about all the possible directions in life he could have been given, but he was dealt this one. How did he get here.
After going to college in France, he moved back to the states and started his company with the help of his wealthy uncle. He had had a lot of good beer is his lifetime, but he knew Americans were used to their usual cheap cans that they could find at any corner market. So he decided to brew up his own concoction that gave a kick no other beer could. It didn’t take long for things to take off.
They had met at the courthouse. Niall was there with his lawyer to discuss a lease on a building he was thinking about purchasing and Emily was a public defender. Emily was more of a good friend than a lover, but he felt that putting down roots, such as marriage, was good for him at the time. He wanted something stable that he could always come back to, and that was Emily.
Their wedding was small, as small as he could make it seeing as Emily had a large extended family and with his already big family… small was around three hundred people. He remembers that day so clearly because everyone was so happy, but he never felt like his emotions matched the enthusiasm of the day. His parents were so proud and Emily couldn’t stop smiling, but he just felt slow and unsynced even though the itinerary had been engraved onto his brain by the overzealous wedding planner Emily had hired.
Niall rolls his shoulders forward to tighten the blanket around him. He can hear the soft snores coming from the other side of the bed and he can’t help but feel like he goes to sleep besides a stranger every night. He hates to compare, but when he’s with Harry, it is so much different than the forced communication his relationship with Emily has turned into.
His heart beats erratically when he sees Harry. He can’t fight the inevitable grin that grows on his face every time he sees his boy smile or when he hears his laughter ring through this room when they’re in bed together.
He had never been looking for this boy, considering he had Emily, he thought his life was stereotypically complete and there was no point in wanting more.
But then he saw him.
Before he met Harry, the two most important things in his life were friends and beer, and friends always came before beer. A close friend of his, Liam Payne, was an up-and-coming writer and he had just gotten his second book published when he was invited to NYU to be a guest lecturer to inspire the avid youth. He was excited and Niall promised to support his friend.
So when Niall leaned against the wall of a lecture hall at NYU, prepared to listen to Liam’s writing process, he didn’t expect to be so distracted by the tall boy sitting three rows from the front. He wore snug, black jeans that emphasized every inch of leg he had (and he had a lot); the white KISS t-shirt hung loosely on his broad shoulders and an American flag bandana held back his unruly brown curls. Once Niall’s eyes zoned in on the tattoos that wrapped around Harry’s left arm and disappeared under his shirt, he knew he was done for.
After Liam was finished speaking, Niall made it his goal to accidentally bump into the ridiculously tall boy. Everyone was standing to either exit into the hall or congratulate the speaker, but Niall timed his steps so exactly as he was passing the third row, the boy was stepping out which caused them to collide chest to chest.
“Sorry, excuse me,” Niall said, reaching behind the student and placing his hand on his lower back to stabilize them both.
Green eyes widened and moved all across his face before they landed back on his blue eyes and he smiled, “No problem,” his deep voice slowly drawled and he stepped back to give Niall room to pass.
Friends came before beer, so after sending his praises to Liam, Niall dug himself three pints deep in a bar that had horrible lighting and floors so sticky he thought he was about to lose the soles of his shoes. Bad lighting or not, he couldn’t miss the way a tall, lean body sauntered towards the counter to order another margarita. And when those fiery, green eyes finally stared back at him—mirroring the hunger his own eyes held—there was no way he would be leaving the bar without him.
---
Harry opens the door to his favorite on-campus cafe and instantly enters upon the warmth and dark roast smell of the vicinity. It’s partially empty besides the few early birds typing away in different corners, but the soft hum of music played overhead is relaxing and his body responds willingly to the calm. He takes a moment to mull over the menu, despite his tendency to order the same thing every time he comes here, and settles on a latte with almond milk and a croissant.
This morning in particular was turning out well for him. He took a seat at a table by the window so he could stare at the zombie-like students heading to class and blow on his steaming croissant. All he wanted to do next was drink his coffee and read the last two chapters of his book, but you can never have your ideal day.
“What time did you finally kick your sugar daddy out this morning?” Is the first thing Harry’s best friend, Nick, says to him when he flops into the chair across from Harry in the cafe.
Harry frowns, “He’s not my sugar daddy. He’s my boyfriend and he left at like two.” He glanced around to make sure no one heard them, but the cafe was still pulling in a few odd people at a time.
“Mhm,” Nick hums in return before ripping the corner off of Harry’s chocolate croissant and tossing it in his mouth. “Nice scarf,” he eyes Harry. “Is is Burberry?”
“Gucci, actually,” Harry beams. “Niall got it for me.”
Nick laughs at that; loud and with his fists hitting the table. “Impressive. Need myself a sugar daddy like that.”
“Shut up,” he pulls his food away from his blisteringly, comfortable friend.
Nick pulls out his sociology textbook from his bag and opens to a bookmarked page that is overflowing with flashcards and loose paper. He sighs, “If you’re ever willing to share, I’ve got tuition and rent to pay. Let Niall know I can extend my services to him as well.”
Harry’s eyes darken at the remark and Nick bites his bottom lip to keep himself from exploding with laughter again. It’s easy to rile Harry up and he knows it.
“Whatever,” Harry huffs as he picks up his book and wraps his scarf tighter around his neck before heading out of the cafe. He loves Nick, but he lacks an ability to sense when someone is uncomfortable or when he’s pushing their limit.
Latte in his right hand and a book in his left, Harry wanders to the west side of campus where there’s a fountain he likes to sit by. When you stand from the literature building, the fountain most definitely resembles a dick and he doesn’t know if the staff has acknowledged that yet, but either way it’s the perfect spot to read. It’s just before eleven so most students are either in class, or convincing themselves to actually get up and go to class, so it’s quiet when Harry plants himself with his legs crossed on the cold concrete.
His eyes skim over the final pages of the book, because he never has the patience to find out if the book ends in his favor and he only reads the last few sentences so he can have some sort of prediction. He takes the occasional sip from his cup to warm his throat and flips back to where he originally was to continue reading.
The cold air is bearable against his cheeks and he breathes harder to warm himself, but his fingers are still numbly turning each page when he hears a familiar voice approaches him. “Harry?”
He looks up and would never have expected to see Niall standing before him with a red nose and a wide smile; he also happens to be holding a coffee cup, no doubt consuming his dose of caffeine in order to keep himself up after the late night they had. He looks tired, but just as handsome as ever.
“Hi, Ni,” Harry says bashfully.
They were in bed for the better part of yesterday and Harry was obviously sad when Niall had to slip out so early in the morning, but he understood that they have different lives to attend to.
“How’d you know I was here?” Harry bites his lip while he watches Niall take a seat next to him on the cement ring of the fountain.
“I didn’t. I always walk on this path to work, but then I saw you,” Niall says and he watches the way Harry’s lips form a pout. Niall laughs, “I don’t have spidey-senses that I used to detect where you are.”
“Damn,” Harry snaps his fingers, “I was hoping to make you web tonight.”
Niall’s eyebrows knit together and he tries to make sense of what Harry said, but he has no idea what nonsense comes out of his mouth sometimes. This beautiful boy can be so eloquent and smart when he talks about his studies, but when he gets comfortable and starts using puns is when you have to rethink your love for him. Only, not in Niall’s case at least.
“Y’know,” Harry’s eyes are wide and amused, “Cause if you were part spider then you’d probably release web instead of jizz.”
Harry raises his latte to his mouth to resist bursting out in laughter and all Niall can do at this point is hide his eye roll with closed eyes.
“Grossier.”
They continue to catch up on what they’ll be doing today and Harry continues to throw in a few dirty jokes whenever he can. Niall talks about how he can’t find the left shoe to his favorite pair of loafers, which causes Harry to let out a gasp because he found a fancy shoe under the pile of laundry he’s shamefully meant to get to these past two weeks.
Niall begins on a new story and Harry’s mind begins to wander like it usually does. Harry wants to kiss him so bad. His lips are right there and all he really has to do is lean over and just land one on his lips, but they’ve never done stuff like that—in public at least. It’s unfair that he has to hold back these urges that he would normally be able to act on if they were at either of their apartments. He ignores his thoughts and tunes back in to listen to Niall talk about work and the business trip he has scheduled for next year.
“When does your winter break start?”
“My last final is next Thursday. Why?” Harry smiles, resting his cheek against his fist, “You gonna help me study?”
Niall laughs when Harry flutters his eyelashes at him. This ongoing subconscious flirting from Harry is what Niall loves most about him. It’s the first thing he ever noticed about him when they initially met at the bar and he playfully accused Niall of stalking him.
“You going back home anywhere?” Niall asks wearily. He knows Harry isn’t close to either of his parents, or much of his family.
Harry looks down at his coffee cup, his finger tracing the opening in the cap where he drinks from. He shakes his head and slowly raises his head so Niall can see the small smile that graces his face. He’s fine. He may not like talking about his family, but he trusts that Niall will never push the subject.
Niall smiles back, “Good, because you’re spending the holidays with me.”
“Am I?” Harry smiles behind the rim of his coffee cup.
It’s not like he’s going to say no to his offer, and although he doesn’t know how it’s going to work around her, he wants to spend as much time with Niall as possible.
“You have no choice,” Niall jokes, glancing at the book Harry laid down when he found him. “Is this for a class?”
Harry hums, closing the book and reaching in his coat pocket to find his phone and check the time. “Shit, I’ve actually got to go.” He stands with an apologetic smile and slings his bag across his chest.
“Stop by my place tonight?”
Harry nods, giving Niall one last wave before spinning on his heels and walking away, towards his class.
“Hey!” Niall calls out, causing Harry to stop and turn back around. “No goodbye kiss?”
Harry’s face goes red and his breath catches. This is what he wanted moments ago. To be able to kiss Niall out in the open as if they were a monogamous couple with no extra baggage. So he stumbles over his feet as he pretends to drag himself back to Niall and makes a show of rolling his eyes at the request.
Niall purses his lips and stretches his neck up from where he’s sitting. Harry bends over and avoids his momentarily shyness to kiss him with no second thoughts. Niall’s cold nose brushes his cheek when they separate and he breathes out a quick, “Love you,” then Harry dives in for one last peck before the warmth of his hands on Niall’s cheeks disappears and he rushes off to class.
---
Niall holds up patterned shirts that anyone else would gag at receiving, but only Harry would squeal in excitement as he snatches them from his hands.
“You’re spoiling me,” Harry blushes, holding the new shirts against his chest.
Niall shakes his head, but his cheeks are flustered either from being caught or from the two beers he just chugged in the kitchen before Harry got to his apartment.
“I’m just preparing you,” Niall chuckles.
“For what? And don’t say your dick,” Harry quips, rubbing his thumb against the small Christmas tree prints on the silky fabric.
Niall snorts, “I assume my dick comes along with the gift, but I meant our holiday. I thought we could use some alone time, so I made reservations at The Pierre. Just you and me, spending Christmas together. It’s all I’ve been looking forward to, really. What do you think?” His eyes are uncertain as if he doesn’t know if that’s something Harry would like. They haven’t really been the kind to discuss what the other had plans for during the holidays, since they weren’t exactly exclusive.
Harry stands there trying to blink back tears, but he won’t let himself cry, “It sounds perfect, Ni. You really didn’t have to do that, but I can’t complain because I’ve been desperate for some ‘us’ time.”
Harry wraps his arms around Niall’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss. They stay like that for a moment; holding one another in each other’s arms and staring fondly at the other.
“Just us,” Niall agrees, “You, me, the bed. Uninterrupted.”
Harry hides his face and bites at Niall’s shoulder to save him the embarrassment of giggling at the pure excitement he has for this holiday. There are too many moments when he feels like he’s on cloud nine and he doesn’t believe the life he’s living or if he even deserves it. It’s all about perspective, though.
“So,” Harry lowers himself to his knees in front of Niall. “Do I owe you anything for this extravagant gift?” He unbuckles Niall’s belt and pops open the button of his slacks.
Niall smiles, holding Harry’s head in his hands. “I might have something in mind.”
---
Niall puts his hand on Harry’s back and pushes him down until his chest is flush with the cold, marble counters of his kitchen. He slides back into Harry and immediately moves his hands to the brunet’s hips so he can hold his ass up while he finds his rhythm again. The floor was apparently too hard for Harry’s back, which wasn’t a problem for Niall because his apartment was equipped with multiple surfaces to fuck on.
Harry grips the edge of the counter while he gets fucked into and he desperately wants to hold something else to support himself, because Niall is being ruthless behind him. He slaps a hand in front of him, but he wasn’t paying enough attention and knocks over a mug that crashes to the floor.
“Fuck.”
“Ignore it,” Niall says, hands tightening around his waist to make sure he doesn’t move to pick it up.
Harry’s legs are trembling as he tries to stay on his tippy-toes, giving Niall a good angle. If he’s being honest, he’s having a hard time enjoying this completely when his stomach is hitting the counter and his burning cheeks are pressed to the cold marble.
“Ni,” he chokes out and pushes himself up so he can sit back against each thrust. “Babe? Wanna kiss you.”
Niall sees the pink pout forming on Harry’s lips and that’s really all he needs to see because he’s pulling out of Harry and turning him around. All Harry really ever has to do is stick out his bottom lip and Niall will do or buy him just about anything he wants. Niall is quick to slide his hands behind Harry’s thighs and hoist him up onto himself. Harry’s ankles hook behind Niall and his arms wrap around the blond’s neck so he can suffocate him in kisses.
“Couch or wall?” Niall asks during the two seconds when their lips aren’t smothered together.
“Couch,” Harry nearly moans; the vibrations of his voice thunder into Niall’s ear.
Niall walks them into the living room, which is difficult when you have a six foot tall man in your arms who is kissing him persistently. So really, they go stumbling into the living area until Niall falls back into the couch with Harry straddling his lap. His thick hands cup Harry’s ass and his fingers delve into the crevice to separate the cheeks and prepare for his impending dick.
Harry kisses Niall hard while he reaches behind himself and grabs ahold of Niall’s hearty base. He eases himself down on his boyfriend’s lap and immediately starts bouncing because he’s been stretched out enough in the past ten minutes so there’s really no need to waste anymore time. Niall thrusts upwards to meet Harry and he stretches his neck more with each hot kiss that lands on his sweaty skin.
Harry’s thighs are aching again and Niall can feel the way he’s losing rhythm and pausing for seconds at a time. Niall makes the decision to roll him onto his stomach, back to their previous position, but Harry can take it now since his ribs aren’t getting crushed by the kitchen counter anymore.
“Sorry,” Harry says, embarrassed that he’s made them change positions twice already.
Niall shakes his head and leans down to plant a kiss where his back dips. “I want you to always be comfortable, baby. Don’t be afraid to tell me if you’re tired or too sore. Do you still want to continue?”
“Yes, I’m good. I promise, really.” Harry wiggles around while trying to separate his legs as much as the couch allows. “How do you want me?”
“Spread your legs more,” Niall says and lands a soft slap to Harry’s right ass cheek.
When he doesn’t move how Niall intends, he pushes Harry’s right leg up himself, until his knee is folded next to his chest and his ass sticks out more. Completely exposed with his hips shifted downwards as much as he could, Harry flinched when he felt a finger circle around his rim.
“Niall-” Harry can’t take it anymore. He blindly grabs for the perpetrating hand and holds it still while two fingers are still lodged in him. “Don’t tease me. Fuck me now, please.”
Two minutes tops was all they needed before they were both coming on each other and Niall could finally rest. He was pushing thirty; his knees got tired quickly even though he didn’t like to show it.
Niall moves the cushions around until he has enough room to slide between Harry and the back of the couch. He finds the remote on the nearest side table and he flicks on the television, changing through the channels until he finds a random movie.
Harry turns his back to the screen, because he honestly rather stare at Niall than a movie, so he cuddles into the older man’s chest and presses his nose to his skin to breathe in his scent. Niall isn’t a fan of strong colognes, but Harry senses traces of vanilla and possibly blueberry that make him want to lick and suck at his skin until the taste clings to his tongue. Instead, he turns his head and rests his cheek against Niall and just focuses on their breathing now, which he managed to synchronize after holding his own breath in for two seconds longer. Their chests rise and fall almost silently when he feels Niall’s hand creep up from where it was on his hip and knots it’s fingers in his slightly sweaty hair. As if his hand were on his cock, the massage he receives through his curls is hypnotic and his eyes lull close to the comfort.
His ears begin to fixate on the clock tick, tick, ticking away which he didn’t notice until now when the pressure of sex isn’t muffling his hearing. Harry’s eyes open abruptly and it’s moments like these where he just wants to kick himself. He can never solely enjoy his time with Niall when he’s forced to remember that times almost up and this needs to end eventually.
All his worries always stem back to the same person.
“What’s on your mind, baby?” Niall looks down at Harry with his eyebrows scrunched.
“Nothing.”
“Harry.” He says sternly, earning a sigh from Harry.
“Niall, I swear it’s nothing important.”
“So, there is something on your mind?”
“It’s just, Ugh—Do you still… sleep with Emily?” Harry asks, pricking his index finger on Niall’s stubble and glancing up to gauge his reaction every few seconds.
He blinks at him, a bit stunned by the question, but he’s also not surprised that this would be on Harry’s mind. “Do you mean…”
“Sex. Do you still have sex with her?”
Niall can see the hurt that is prepared to glisten in Harry’s eyes. The twenty-one year old has never been shy when it comes to sharing his emotions, which is something Niall struggles with deeply since he tends to bottle everything in.
“No,” Niall shakes his head. “Not since we’ve started seeing each other. There might have been one instance where she was begging and I didn’t want to make her suspicious, but other than that, I don’t want to sleep with someone I don’t genuinely love.”
Niall pulls his fingers from his hair and is slightly hesitant in allowing his fingertips to dance up Harry’s arm, until they stop at his shoulder and reach up to hold his chin so their eyes stay connected. He notices the brunet hasn’t lost any light in his eyes and he continues to watch Niall watch him.
“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Niall reassures him. He takes his hand away from Harry’s face and settles it around his waist instead so he can pull him to his chest and eventually shift their bodies until he’s hovering over his boy. “Tu es ma seule et unique.”
He presses tender kisses to Harry’s neck, making sure to kiss along his throat and under his chin, which he knows are his sweet spots. He feels him shiver underneath him at the contact and he continues his light assault against Harry’s collar bones and his left shoulder that is littered with tattoos.
“Did she beg for it better than me?” Harry whispers as he shifts so his junk is pressed against Niall’s thigh.
Niall is breathless with the bombardment of questions and the touch of Harry’s hands holding his sides and then sweeping up his stomach to finger the hair on his chest. It doesn’t help that Harry carries an innocent expression when he says shit like this. How does he ever expect Niall to not want him?
“Can’t remember what you sound like when you beg. Mind refreshing my memory?”
Harry smirks and arches his back as he gets to work using his sweetest sultry voice to at least get a quick round of hand jobs.
---
They both lay in the other’s embrace as they try to catch their breath. Harry is much more relaxed, but still a bit guarded and all Niall wants is for him to feel safe and happy when he’s with him.
“Hey,” Niall grabs his attention with a peck to the lips. “You owe me a mug.”
Harry starts giggling in Niall’s neck when he remembers the mess they left behind in the kitchen and promises him he’s going to get him a new mug.
“Oh, and Niall?” Harry prompts.
“Yeah.”
“I like, totally came all over the couch.”
“Shit. Remind me to flip the cushions when we get up.”
“We can’t. We flipped them once already, remember?” Harry raises his brow.
Niall taps a finger against his chin and then he’s patting his hands around in search for his phone. “How fast do you think I can get a new couch in here?”
---
Emily fluffs the pillows on the couch with the palm of her hand. They’ve been looking more colorful and clean, maybe the Febreze was actually working. She nods her head to herself and then moves to the kitchen where the pot on the stove was finally whistling. In opening the cupboard, she was puzzled when her favorite mug wasn’t there and neither was it in the dishwasher. She shrugs her shoulders and pulls out a basic white mug and then another one for Niall because he’s in the shower right now and he’ll probably want a cup of coffee as well.
She’s pouring the coffee into the mugs when Niall walks in the kitchen; hair wet and his hands moving quick to button up his jacket. He gives Emily a routinely kiss on the cheek then grabs his coffee and sits on a stool at the island. They stand in a comfortable silence.
“My parents called,” Emily smiles, scooping sugar into her mug. “They can’t wait to see us for Christmas dinner.”
“Em—”
“So, I was thinking we should stop by the shops and pick up a gift for my mom.”
“Em—”
“She’s really been into diamonds lately, so I was thinking maybe a pair of earrings or a necklace would be fine—”
“Emily, I’m not going to be here for Christmas.”
She turns around slowly and sets her cup on the counter. “What do you mean? Of course you’re going to be here.”
“No, I’m not,” Niall rises from his seat and goes to the sink to put his half-full mug in there. “I have meetings to attend to.”
“Niall,” she sighs, but continues to smile, “You’ve been too preoccupied with work. I think it’s best if you just take a break and focus on your family. Are your parents coming to visit?”
“No, they won’t.” Niall says, exasperated that she’s not listening to him. “They’re not coming because I’m going to be too busy so there’s no point.”
“With what?”
“Work!” Niall raises his voice, causing Emily to jump. “I’ve got a shit-ton of paperwork to get through and I just don’t have the time to wine and dine with your parents.”
Emily frowns, “Don’t be ridiculous. Work can wait, and if you ask me I think your late night shifts are the reason why you’ve gotten wrinkles on your forehead. You’re under too much stress and you deserve some time off.” Her hands rest on his shoulders and she tries to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, but he steps out of her embrace. He doesn’t like it when she touches him like that.
“I can’t do this anymore.” Niall shakes his head and massages his temples.
“Excuse me?”
“I want a divorce.”
“Niall, if you’re joking around...” She tries to laugh.
“I’m being serious.”
Silence. Emily continues to stare into Niall’s eyes for some sign that he’s pranking her, but she doesn’t see it.
“I d—I don’t understand.” She’s stunned; arms crossed in front of her chest protectively.
“I hate to pour this all on you now, but,” Niall pauses, looking for the words he never prepared because he didn’t expect to do this now. “It’s not that anything is wrong between the two of us, but I think it’s best if we just go our separate ways.”
“If nothing’s wrong, then why do you want a divorce?”
Niall takes a deep breath, “Because I don’t feel the same about you anymore. I love you, but I’m not in love with you.” Granted, Niall never really loved her.
"T-This doesn’t make any sense. Is that why you made me sign a prenup?" Emily's eyes well up with tears, "Was this your plan all along? String me on and make me think you loved me?"
The tears begin to fall and Niall knows that he'd eventually have to hurt one of them, sadly it's Emily.
"No, no Emily it's not like that," Niall tries to reach for her wrist, but she pulls away. "People fall out of love—"
"I still love you," she interrupts hysterically. "I've always loved you and I don't think I can ever stop loving you. So don't say people fall out of love. Our love was just one-sided."
Niall doesn't say anything and doesn't feel like he should either. She isn't wrong.
"Who is it?" She breaks the silence Niall left them in.
"Who's who?" His voice shakes and he finally looks up from his shoes.
"Who. Is. She?"
Emily steps forward with each word, holding eye contact with broken yet knowing eyes.
“Em,” Niall sighs, stepping back to make space between them. “I don’t know what you’re trying to get out of me.”
“If you don’t love me, then who is it that you do?”
“There’s no one else.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not. I’m sorry, Emily.” Niall sorrowfully watches the tears continue to fall.
“You couldn’t have waited until after Christmas.” She dumps her untouched coffee into the sink and walks out, “I’ll tell my parents you died or something.”
---
Getting away from Niall’s painfully quiet apartment is a relief if he’s ever encountered one. He’s had to either watch Emily sulk around when she’s home for moments at a time or be met with silence until he hears her get home and then they awkwardly avoid each other. It’s uncomfortable for him to be home so he busies himself at work and tries to stop by Harry’s place as much as possible because he can’t invite him over anymore when Emily no longer tells him how long she’ll be out or when she’s returning from work. He sincerely hates putting her in such a vulnerable situation like this, but she doesn’t deserve to be strung along by him.
It’s unfair to Harry as well. He mostly didn’t deserve to be dragged into this by Niall and he’s been nothing but understanding. His moments of weakness where he wants Niall all to himself are hard on both of them and unavoidable unless Niall changes something about it. And he will.
Needless to say, their time together away from Niall’s second life was filled with a lot of sex and eating. After a dim-lit dinner and maybe a little bit of wine, Niall had Harry pinned on the bed of their hotel room.
“You smell amazing,” he kisses behind Harry’s ear while he waits for the younger boy to get adjusted to him. He circles his hips slowly and listens to Harry whimpering under him, finger nails scratching down his back.
“Ready for me to fuck you, baby?”
“Please, daddy,” Harry moans and then freezes once he’s realized what he said. His eyes are wide and he’s waiting for a different response from Niall than what he gets.
“Say it again,” Niall grunts from above Harry.
Harry is apprehensive of the situation, mostly because he has no idea what this will lead to. He wants to say it. Just hearing Niall demand it confirms that the sex is going to turn deliciously hot and rough and there’s nothing Harry loves more than that.
Niall thrusts slightly to the left and bites at Harry’s neck. “Dis-le,” he begs a bit now.
Harry hesitates, until Niall hits a sensitive spot in him and the word is detangling itself from his tongue with ease.
“Harder, daddy,” Harry moans with his head thrown back and his eyes clenched. “Give it to me harder, please daddy.”
Niall begins pounding in him with the fire and vigor that Harry loves so much while his legs are hitting wildly on the blond’s back. Harry’s mind is running rampant with the fact that he called his boyfriend ‘daddy’ and how he hopes the walls are thick because they are being grossly loud. Harry releases first, and Niall enters his sensitive hole three more times before coming second. They’re a mess, but neither care as they hazily come down from their orgasmic highs.
Niall complied to the situation much quicker than Harry anticipated, but this is usually how it is. Harry is the indecisive over-thinker that seeks validation and Niall is very ‘go with the flow’ while seamlessly figuring his own shit out without needing to put it out in the open.
Harry combs a finger through Niall’s chest hair, straining his brain on how he wants to approach this topic. He doesn’t want this to become something that will tarnish their normal relationship and stray them far away from being emotionally connected.
“So this ‘daddy’ thing,” Harry starts and he hears Niall hum lethargically to continue, “It doesn’t like, mean anything, right?”
“What would it mean?” Niall questions.
“You’re not my dad, or sugar daddy, or anything like that.” Harry looks up at him from his position on the pillow and continues his rambling. “I just want to make sure you don’t see me as your sugar baby. I know you buy me expensive clothes and other stuff, and sometimes I let you fuck me afterwards, but it’s not because I think I owe you it. I just always want to have sex with you and the gifts are a good segway—”
“I buy you things because I love you, not because I expect sex at the end of the day.” Niall gapes, with a face etching hurt.
“I know, I know,” Harry reaches for him and snakes his hands behind his neck. “I just want to make sure we’re both on the same page.”
“It’s just pillow talk,” Niall accepts the kiss Harry places on his lips, but he still has a slight frown. “I don’t see you as anything else, but my boyfriend. You know better.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry apologizes because this is stupid. He knows Niall would never think of him in that way when they’ve been through so much together. “You forgive me?” Harry kisses along his jawline and then all across his face until he finally breaks into a smile.
“Guess so,” Niall yawns and pulls the sheets higher until their waists are covered. He’s smiling though, so Harry knows he’s not really upset or bothered anymore.
Harry rests his chin on Niall’s chest and peers at him with playful eyes. “I can’t believe you made me call you daddy while we’re in a hotel. I feel slutty.”
“First of all, you were the one to say it first,” Niall laughs, “And second, you are slutty.”
“Hey, that’s not true.”
“Well, you’re slutty for me, at least.”
“I love being slutty for you.” Harry sits up and presses a sucking kiss to his lips.
“Okay, okay,” Niall smiles, “Now please stop saying ‘slutty’. It’s giving me a headache.”
“Okay, daddy,” Harry grins devilishly, standing from the bed and kneeling—stark naked—on the floor to dig through his overnight bag.
Niall tries to slap his ass, but he’s too slow and his hand hits air instead. “Harry, what are you doing? Get back in bed.”
Harry glances back at him and giggles when he sees him pouting while sprawled in bed. “Hold on, Grumps. I got you something.”
It takes a minute, but Harry finally stands up and walks up to Niall before producing a small box from behind his back. Niall takes it from him and starts pulling back the wrapping paper until he’s met with a mug that has the word ‘Daddy’ in black cursive on the front.
“You’re such a little shit,” Niall says, with so much love in his voice.
“I was going to get you one with a picture of my dick on it, but I didn’t want the people who make these seeing the goods.” Harry does a little shimmy to show Niall which goods he’s talking about.
“I love it, Harry, and I love you.” Niall puts the mug on the nightstand and lays back to make grabby hands at Harry. Harry jumps into his arms and gives him another round of the kissing of a lifetime.
---
This holiday is exactly what Harry wanted and needed. To spend every waking moment with Niall and familiarize himself with how he was from when he woke up, until he went back to bed is everything he’s ever dreamed of. They didn’t have to worry about being quiet or walked in on by Harry’s roommates or being caught by Niall’s wife. All they really did was have sex and order room service, but Harry felt so safe being with Niall that he wouldn’t have traded these moments for anything in the world. He was treacherously in love and everything that involved Niall made a tug at his heart that buried him deeper into this life.
---
Harry’s kneeled in between Niall’s thighs, the bowl of melted chocolate originally for their strawberries in his left hand and a spoon in his right.
“I’m hard enough, let me just dip my dick in the bowl.” Niall pumps his hand over his cock until it stands up more erect.
“Niall, no. That is so unsanitary. Use the spoon and drizzle it on.”
“Either way you’re going to be sucking chocolate off my dick, so what’s the difference?”
“The difference is that you’ll get come in the chocolate, so what if I want some more later?”
“Is that your way of telling me you’re spitting and not swallowing tonight?”
Harry rolls his eyes, “No, but if you want your dick in my mouth then you’re going to listen to me.”
Niall eyes flicker down to his hard-on and then back up to Harry’s face.
“What makes you think you can boss me around like that?” He growls, pulling Harry closer by his thighs until their cocks are pressed together. “Huh?” His hands gripping the flesh of Harry’s ass. “Answer me when I talk to you.”
Harry’s eyes are glazed over and he’s positively turned on by Niall’s dominant aura that makes him melt into submissiveness instantly.
“Sorry,” Harry whispers. A beautiful flush spreads across his cheeks as hands wander down between his lower cheeks and a finger ghosts over his hole.
“Sorry, what?”
“Sorry, daddy.” Harry gasps when a finger enters him, making Niall chuckle.
“Now, why don’t you pour that chocolate all over my dick,” The older man breathes against his neck, nipping at his skin. “Then get on your stomach and let me fuck it into you so I can lick it all out. How does that sound?”
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Yes! Harry’s mind is screaming, but his lips barely move when he murmurs a yes in Niall’s ear. He wants it all.
“And if you’re good, maybe I’ll let you suck my chocolate covered balls. Comprendre?”
“Oui.”
Harry’s mind was set on being a very naughty boy to get the most out of their white Christmas.