Harry sees him first.
He's perfect, exactly the type they hoped to find tonight, same general build, blond, confident, rosy cheeks. Harry chews the ice from his drink as he stares from the upper level at him down by the bar.
The club is in that downward spiral, the final hour before last call when the energy becomes static, charged, heavier. People start pairing off, grabbing hands, asses, hips, as they dance and turn. It's denim against denim, people moving, swaying. The music pounds from the speakers, Harry can feel it in his stomach, that familiar rumble, the DJ building and building, getting people higher just from the sounds around them. It's a place Harry had never been, a club he'd heard about from various acquaintances. He'd been told it got like this at the end of the night, Harry's favorite time of any night, of any club, the final hour.
People get desperate, sure, to find someone to take home. But more than that, in the last hour, people are unapologetically honest.
You want a last drink? Sure, thanks. Do you like me? Yeah. You want to go somewhere else? Yeah. Let's go then. Okay.
No bullshit. No unnecessary conversation. If you want to find someone, if you want to touch the body in front of you, if they say yes, you're in. The deal is done. You should already have your keys in your hand.
Harry does that thing even he doesn't understand, that thing with his eyes, the thing with his entire being, the energy field around him he swears he can manipulate. He angles his body towards the railing overlooking the dance floor, the lights hitting everyone around him just right, as the people below him sweat together, move with the music like a mass of body heat and energy. He does that thing where he zeros in on someone, stares, barrels them down with his eyes, willing the universe to get them to look back at him.
The universe does him a solid tonight, because the guy, holding his beer sitting at the bar, glancing around, finally turns on his stool and looks up. His eyes scan the balcony, before landing on Harry, the stranger staring at him.
Harry, in all his tight jeaned and sheer button up glory, stares him down, before splitting his face into a grin. His grin.
The guy stares back. Harry sees him stand up, facing the club fully now, facing Harry. He doesn't smile right away, just looks up at him as the music changes and people cheer. But he doesn't hold out long, they never do, and he smiles back.
Harry does that other thing even he doesn't understand. He smiles back, nods once, licks his lips and then looks away, eyes scanning the crowd again. He has the ability to bring someone in, just for a moment, before letting go. Looking away.
It's still a game, be it the last hour of the night or not, and the game is the best part for Harry. He takes a sip of his drink, lets the vodka swirl in his mouth, as he continues looking through the mass of people below him, searching.
They lock eyes after a minute of Harry looking, his hand clenching the railing, and Harry smiles again at the set of brown eyes looking back at him. He gestures to the bar, knows if he does it just right, the message will land.
It comes through loud and clear.
Because Zayn looks over to where Harry gestured and sees him, the blonde in the tight grey jeans and open short sleeved blue shirt, eyes bright and wide, a beer in his hand. He's not dancing, but he's moving slightly, his body bouncing, on beat with the music burning around them.
Zayn looks back up to Harry and nods with a smile on his face.
The game is Zayn's favorite part, too.
"How's that beer treating you?"
Zayn says it loudly, he has to, next to the guy at the bar. He nods to the almost empty beer in the guy's hand and smiles at him.
Whenever they do this, Zayn approaches first. Harry spotted him first, smiled first, did that thing where he ropes someone in before they realize what's happening. But Zayn always speaks first. His voice is calmer, steady. He has a presence to him that makes people feel at ease, like he could be a best friend, like anyone could tell him all their secrets if they needed to.
Even though his stare could cut glass, his hands could break bones, his instructions could bring anyone to their knees, his voice is velvet. Smooth and inviting, sensual and clear. Velvet. Always.
"S'good," the guy nods with a smile, a flush to his cheeks that wasn't there a few seconds before.
"You want another one?" Zayn steps closer.
The guy makes a noncommittal noise, looks to his left at the friends he must be with. The guys, and a few girls still dancing, they seem to be shifting, adjusting collars, paying tabs. Their night seems to be over. Coming to a close.
"Probably shouldn't," he says with a shrug, turning his head back towards Zayn.
But Zayn already has a hand up, gesturing for the bartender, a girl in a short skirt and a high ponytail on her head, red hair swishing against her back as she makes her way to him.
"I'm gonna have another," Zayn says to the guy, holding up his empty glass. "You sure you don't want one?"
Zayn pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, bites it, stares at him.
The guy flushes again, cheeks pinker, under Zayn's gaze.
"Well," he starts to say, rubbing at his neck with his free hand.
Zayn just points at the guy's beer as the bartender hands him his whiskey, and in no time at all, a new beer is on the bar.
The guy smiles, grabs the new beer, and shifts a half-step closer. All good signs, Zayn thinks.
"Niall. I'm Zayn," he holds out a hand, steps closer. "Nice to meet you."
They shake hands. Zayn holds up his drink in a cheers, right as a hand comes from behind Niall and grips his shoulder. One of the girls whispers in his ear as she adjusts her purse across her chest.
Zayn sees it then, the telltale face of a guy who doesn't know if he should leave, play it safe, go get takeout with his friends, or if the hot guy at the bar is really doing this in the last hour of the night. Zayn thinks it's pretty clear, his intentions, but he knows the game. It's that question in Niall's eyes, the slight frown as he turns to his friend to get her advice, his back to Zayn now.
Zayn smiles and takes another drink. He gets closer, closer than he normally would after only a name exchange and handshake, but he senses Niall needs it to be crystal clear.
"You should stay," he purrs in his ear.
Niall whips his head around, surprised at Zayn's closeness, the voice in his ear, the voice Zayn swears by. He smiles. Surely the message is clear enough now, Zayn thinks.
It comes through loud and clear.
Because Niall turns to his friends and in a rush tells them to leave, physically nudges one of them, in fact. He doesn't need them anymore. It's happening. They're alone, drinks in hand, hip to hip.
"I've never been here before," Zayn says in his ear. "I like it."
"Never been here either," Niall says back, in Zayn's ear, close. "I live on the other side of town. Don't come over here often, y'know. But my friends wanted to come, and they said it was fun. So we danced. I like to dance."
Zayn just nods. Smiles. Niall bites at his lip, before taking a long drink from his beer.
"You should do that more often," Zayn says with a smile, leaning up to his ear, a finger in Niall's belt loop now. "You look good when you bite your lip. You should do it all the time."
Niall laughs, Zayn knows, because he feels it against his chest. They're facing each other, chest to chest, as people sway around them, pushing, dancing. It's getting late. People need their last few drinks. But Zayn wants to keep him at the bar.
Zayn pulls back and sees Niall's flushed face. He licks his lips as he stares at him, let's his stare and eyes do all the work.
Niall laughs again and turns towards the bar to grab his beer with nervous fingers. It's while his head is turned that Zayn takes the opportunity to search the crowd again. He'd never want to look like he was disinterested, looking for anyone else, so it's a quick look. He needs to find him. It's about that time, after all.
Harry's over Niall's shoulder making his way to the bar. He nods at Zayn and winks.
"I gotta piss," Zayn pulls at Niall's belt loop, getting him closer. "Watch my drink?"
Niall nods his perfect head, all earnest and sweet, pulling Zayn's drink closer to his body so no one moves it.
Zayn kisses his cheek, quickly, before disappearing into the crowd.
He looks good from the back, Harry thinks.
The guy is thin with knobby knees, thin hips, sturdy shoulders. Harry wonders what they look like, if the open button up covering them would slip off easily, right here at the bar, if Harry told him he looked flushed, too hot, sweaty.
He shakes his head. Let Zayn get him naked. It's not time yet, anyhow.
This thing they do, they've been doing it for years now. It's not often, definitely not a regular occurrence by any means. But it's something they do when they need a release, something different, something new. It's exciting, the game neither of them ever needed to play with each other. There was no chase, no dance. The second they locked eyes at a party five years ago, it was as if they both knew: this is it then, huh… here you are.
Harry doesn't need anyone besides Zayn, not in his apartment, in his heart, in his day-to-day life. And he knows for a fact Zayn wants to spend the rest of his life pleasing Harry, picking up after Harry, loving Harry. They don't need a third body to make them happy, not every day.
But some nights, nights like tonight, it's exciting to have a third body in their bed.
They haven't found a guy in a while, though, not since last year. And they certainly hadn't been this excited for it in as long, Harry can tell. Zayn's just as excited over the prospect as he is.
Harry gets closer, makes his way towards this stranger at the bar watching Zayn's drink, and he knows what has to be done.
Pulling someone like this, in a club, is no easy feat. You have to make them comfortable, make them feel needed and wanted, make them know without a doubt that you're not going to hurt them or make them uneasy. Harry wants this stranger to not be a stranger by the end of the night, but someone who can trust him, someone he can make laugh, someone he can light up from the inside. Zayn too, they just want the person to feel wanted.
And there's nothing better than two people in a club, separately, trying for your hand.
"What's your name?" Harry says from behind him, close, in his ear.
The guy startles, sloshes his beer on the bar, as he turns around. Harry sees him holding both drinks close to his body on the bar, nervous.
He just stares at Harry.
"I'm Harry," he smiles, holding out his hand.
This guy is sweet, he can tell. He clearly feels bad, talking to Harry, smiling at him, when he's watching the drink of someone else, someone who got him to stay back without his friends. He's thinking of Zayn. He's wishing Zayn hadn't left him alone. This was a test, and this guy is passing with flying colors. Because Harry knows: Zayn should be hard to forget.
"Uh, I'm Niall," he stammers, looking over his shoulder nervously, but still taking Harry's hand.
"I saw you looking at me earlier," Harry steps closer, not letting go of him.
Niall's sweating slightly, his cheeks red.
"Yeah, well… I saw you looking at me first."
"Couldn't help it," Harry says into his ear, leaning into him. "You were sitting on that stool like you were doin' it a favor."
Niall smiles at that, Harry can sense it, the smile at the line that's supposed to be funny. His body language is still a little stiff, but he's smiling. And sure enough when Harry steps away, gives him his space, he's grinning, all perfect teeth and pink tongue.
"Why aren't you dancing?" Harry gestures to the people around them.
"I was earlier."
"Are you any good?"
"I'm alright," Niall smiles again, rubbing at his neck, glancing over his shoulder again.
All good signs, Harry thinks.
Anyone who can forget Zayn, anyone who latches to Harry without a second thought, or vice versa, is not someone they want to take home. And this guy, Niall, is smiling at him with a tinge of guilt. Harry almost laughs, it's going so well.
"I can tell. You're sweet," Harry smiles.
"Are you?" Niall asks honestly, eyes furrowed slightly.
Harry can't stop smiling now. Because he knows in about ten seconds, Zayn will be in his eyeline with that look on his face, the look he gives Harry when he needs an answer. They ask each other questions with just their facial expressions all the time. This is no different.
And sure enough, Zayn walks towards them, eyes searching. Do we like him? Did he pass the test?
Harry smiles at him, nods once, before looking back at Niall.
"Have you met Zayn?" Harry says, finger in Niall's belt loop.
Niall almost drops his beer at that, very nearly loses feeling in his appendages, Harry can tell, as Zayn sidles up behind him with a smile on his face. Niall steps away from Harry, his back completely against the bar now, as he snaps his eyes from one to the other. Zayn grabs his drink from behind him and stands closer.
Niall looks from Harry to Zayn, Zayn to Harry, confused.
Harry sees Zayn lean in to whisper in his ear. Thanks for watching my drink.
"Wait, you know each other?" Niall questions as Zayn steps back and Harry steps closer.
"Yeah. That a problem?"
Niall looks at him, eyes his face. He's confused. They're not cruel, they won't let him feel that way any longer. So Zayn steps around him to Harry, up against his side, holding his hip.
They don't ever get too affectionate, not when it's so new, not when it's still confusing. So he just holds on, gives him a sweet look, before both of their eyes find Niall again, staring at them.
Niall just makes a sound, a sound with his mouth like he can't believe what's happening.
"Do we all need another round?" Harry asks, hand running along the back of Zayn's neck.
"Yeah, let's have one last drink. You want another beer, Niall?" Zayn steps closer to him, setting his beer on the bar for him.
Niall still hasn't spoken.
"You want something stronger?" Harry says with a smile, running his other hand along Niall's forearm.
Zayn gestures to the bartender again, and a minute later, they each have a vodka soda in their hands.
"To Niall," Zayn cheers him, leaning in to kiss his cheek.
Harry leans in and kisses the other cheek, before taking a sip.
Niall still hasn't spoken. But he does take a long drink.
Harry lets it sit for a second, the fact that not only do he and Zayn know each other, but they both know Niall, have each talked to him, that they're holding on to each other and still touching Niall at the bar. It's a lot to process, this game they play, the thing they do every so often for fun.
This is the time when Niall can leave. He can thank them for the drinks, nod politely, and get the fuck out of there without a backwards glance. It's happened before, a few times with girls because girls tend to be more cautious, and once with a guy at that bar near their place. It happens. Some people aren't into it. Some people think they're crazy for opening up their bed, or that they're murderers, or sadly, some combination of both.
But Harry senses Niall wants it, even if it hasn't occurred to him yet. He liked Harry's gaze on him. He liked Zayn's attention. He likes them both separately. He could like them together.
Niall stares at them, bounces his eyes from both of their faces, their open and honest faces trying to tell him something. It's all good, see? This is okay. You can like us both.
Zayn has a presence to him, the one Harry wishes he had. But he's too overpowering, too loud, too tall. So he steps back slightly as Zayn steps forward, a hand on Niall's arm.
"We were gonna head home soon," Zayn says quietly, in between the three of them, one hand grasping Niall's arm, one hand linked with Harry's.
Niall blinks a few times.
"You want to come with us? Have another drink? Sit around and talk?" Zayn shrugs, eyes still trying to send the message. No pressure. Whatever you want to do.
Harry nods behind him, smiles slightly. You can leave whenever you want.
"Come on, let's go," Zayn tries again, voice low. Velvet.
"Yeah, okay. Yeah. Okay," Niall finally murmurs, nodding, feet shuffling.
Zayn grabs him by the hand and kisses his cheek again. Harry runs a finger down his neck, lightly. It can't be too much, not here. If you get too many hands on a person too soon, it's done before it starts. Too overwhelming.
They're asking again, with their body language, if he's sure. The music gets louder, it must be the last few songs before the night's over, before the lights come on and people grab onto each other for comfort. Drinks spill down throats, jeans rub against jeans as the beat drops, the lights swirl.
"Okay," Niall nods again, more sure this time.
The deal is done. Harry already has his keys in his hand.
After they get out of the cab and up the elevator, they leave him sitting on the couch in the living room, after kicking their shoes off just inside the door, keys on the table, jackets over the back of the chair in the corner.
They leave him with his thoughts, after Harry flips on the fireplace and Zayn turns the lights low. He'll need a minute to process, a minute to sit in the penthouse apartment of two complete strangers who brought him home.
Zayn grabs the bottle of wine, as Harry makes his way around the kitchen to get the good wine glasses, the gorgeous ones Harry's mom sent over from Neiman Marcus, the ones that go with the plates Zayn got. They take pride in their place, the place high above the city with the open windows and good furniture, the one they spent months decorating just right.
Harry bites at his thumb, other hand running along the granite countertop he could eat off, it's so pristine and clean.
"Do you think he's okay?" Harry says in a low voice.
Zayn pours the good red wine into each glass.
"Let's go see, hmm? And relax. Positive energy. Good vibes for him. You know that," Zayn says with a serious look.
Harry just nods, grabs two of the glasses. Zayn's right, Zayn's always right. He can always level Harry when he needs it, especially on these nights of theirs. Zayn kisses him on the cheek, tells him with his eyes to calm down.
Zayn's the boss, after all.
They make their way back into the living room, to see Niall sitting nervously on the couch, wringing his hands together in his lap. He accepts the glass of wine and drinks from it greedily, as they settle next to him, Harry closest, Zayn next to Harry.
Now that they're home, in their comfort zone, they can't sit on either side of him. It's too much like an ambush. It's all about comfort levels now, seeing who wants what, if Niall is into this at all.
This is when they get to know each other, ask about jobs and universities. Where are you from? Did you go to school around here? What do you like to do for fun? It's pleasantries, niceties. They've done it for five minutes before, and another time for three hours, whatever it takes to make everyone comfortable and at ease.
Harry's about to ask a question, as he swirls wine around in his glass and lets it breathe. But Niall surprises them both and is the first to speak.
"So is this like, your thing?" he asks Zayn, eyes wide.
They're getting right to it, then. They've done it this way before, as well. Quick. To the point. But they both definitely thought Niall was the type for conversation first.
Zayn smiles. Harry chuckles.
"You like… both hit on guys at clubs? And then bring them home?" Niall looks away towards the burning fire, running the back of his hand over his top lip.
"Guys. Girls. Whoever the hottest person there is, I suppose," Zayn says quietly, playing with the curly hair along Harry's neck.
Niall takes another drink of wine.
"Do you, like… fuck people? Together? Is that what you do?" he says to just Harry now.
Harry turns to look at Zayn, questioning. How am I supposed to play this?
Zayn looks around Harry to stare at Niall.
"Sometimes," he answers simply, with a slight smile. When you ask a question, you can ask us both. It's okay.
Niall takes another drink of wine.
"That seems fucked up. You're okay with that? You're okay with being with other people?" he looks to both of them now, eyes bouncing from one to the other.
Zayn pulls at Harry's hair slightly, just a little tug, to spur him into action. Zayn's voice is smooth, placating. But it can also be sturdy, set. Harry's the one to ground this, to make it seem normal, healthy, good. It can be good, if you want it to be.
"We love each other, Niall. We love each other, in every way," Harry says sweetly, grabbing for Niall's hand. "We just like to have fun sometimes. With other people. Together. It's not fucked up."
Niall looks at him with wide eyes. But he grabs his hand back, holds on.
"You want to have fun with us?" Harry says, moving closer to him.
Niall looks at Harry. Then he looks at Zayn. Eyes still wide.
"Nothing you're uncomfortable with," Zayn adds, nodding. "If you don't want to, if this is too much, if you want to leave…"
"I'm not a fucking virgin," Niall huffs out, eyes now slits. "I'm not a child. I was looking back at you, right? I was looking at both of you."
Zayn smiles. Harry chuckles.
"You're right. That is true," Harry smiles.
"Then let's have fun, yeah? Let's make you feel good," Zayn says in a low voice, hand still moving through Harry's hair, eyes moving to Harry's hand holding Niall's.
Niall still looks like a deer in headlights, like this is asking a lot. His cheeks are even redder now from the wine, his brow furrows further. But he nods. He nods once, twice, three times, looking from his hand in Harry's, back up to their faces.
He nods again.
Their first instincts were right, about Niall being the type to need a little conversation.
After it's decided that this night is headed in a great fucking direction, Zayn grabs the bottle of wine from the kitchen and keeps it on the table in front of them in the living room, refilling their glasses as needed. Harry asks Niall questions, does that thing with his eyes where he searches for every aspect of a person, nodding, smiling. It's a thing of beauty, something Zayn's always loved to watch, the steady flow of a person falling head over heels for Harry Styles. It happens almost daily, sometimes hourly, and Zayn never gets tired of it, watching it, and knowing his Harry is wanted by so many people.
Conversely, he knows Harry loves when people stare at Zayn in crowded rooms, loves that initial first look when someone hears Zayn's soft voice for the first time. Harry's charming, he's gorgeous, but he's not Zayn. No one is Zayn, that mixture of hot and sultry, but also gracious and inviting. People look at Zayn like they want to eat him, like they'd give anything to know him, fuck him, marry him. Harry's the only one in the world who gets Zayn in quiet moments, in rooms alone. He could watch people watch Zayn all day.
Niall's from upstate, he went to school in the city, he plays the guitar.
Zayn feels heavy, from the drinks at the club, and now the red wine sitting on his tongue. He starts to feel antsy, as Harry and Niall get closer and closer. This is where Harry shines, the final moments of build up. If Zayn's the first one to talk, the one to draw someone in, Harry's the one to close.
Zayn tugs on Harry's hair again, just a little tug, to spur him into action. Harry gets the message.
As Niall finishes his story about his first apartment, the one he lived in with his brother, the disaster zone they created, Harry slides his hand up his thigh, slowly.
Niall stills. His voice cuts out, as if he lost it. He looks down at Harry's hand moving up his leg, at Harry's ring covered fingers moving against the denim.
"S'it good?" Harry asks, quietly.
"You want to kiss him, Niall?" Zayn wonders, nodding to Harry's hungry face.
"Go on, then. Do it," Zayn directs him firmly.
At that, Harry reaches behind himself to grab Zayn's hand, to hold on. This is their thing, the thing they do when they need a release, something different, something new. But at the end of the day, they do it together, and they never lose sight of the other. Zayn grasps his fingers.
Harry leans in slowly, lets Niall meet him halfway, and their lips touch. Harry gives him a moment, to feel him, to move closer. Harry opens his lips slightly, moves with Niall, the give to his take. Niall tastes like the wine, delicious, sweet. Harry tastes him, shifts his face to the other side, an angle Niall seems to like better, as he opens his mouth further, as Harry snakes his tongue in.
Harry holds his thigh tighter now, as Niall licks into his mouth, as their tongues move together. He feels Zayn's eyes on them, feels Zayn pinch his fingers in excitement. He knows Zayn loves this part, the simple kiss before anything further happens, when Harry puts his pretty mouth to good use for the first time with a stranger.
Niall shifts closer to Harry then, a good sign for things to come, as Harry moves his hand further up his thigh.
They don't even break apart when Zayn speaks, in a gruff voice.
"Touch his face, Niall. Hold him. Hold his hair, he likes that."
Niall does as he's told, and brings both hands up to Harry's face, his cheek, the back of his head. He's hungry with it now, the kiss deepening, as Harry bites at his lip lightly. Niall gasps at that, just a small one, so Harry smooths the bite with his tongue, before shifting his head again.
Niall makes a sound, a breath right into Harry's mouth, and Harry's dick twitches in his jeans. He holds Zayn's hand tighter, shoves his tongue in Niall's mouth further, as they pick up speed.
Zayn tugs at Harry's hair then, and they break apart. Niall's almost in Harry's lap now, close, as his hands drop to his own leg, to hold Harry's hand.
"Your mouth," Harry pants, with a smile.
Niall just blushes.
Harry's about to turn and get Zayn's input, see what he wants, when Niall surprises them again and speaks first.
"I want to kiss Zayn too," he pants out, looking at Zayn over Harry's shoulder.
Harry smiles, knows this was a great fucking idea, that Niall is possibly the sweetest guy they've ever brought home, and sits back against the couch. He wants to be front row for this, as Zayn and Niall both lean over him.
Their lips meet right in front of him, hungrier than Harry's kiss. There's no need for build up now, no shyness for anyone, as Zayn opens up Niall's mouth with his tongue. He does that thing Harry loves, swirls it slightly, as Niall meets him with his own. They sound fucking amazing, as their mouths slide together, Zayn's hands on Niall's thighs, Niall's thumbs running along Zayn's strong jaw.
Harry can't help it, he's fucking aching now, as the sound escapes his lips, the small whimper.
Zayn just reaches down and gets a hand on him, holds him through his jeans, applying a delicious pressure to his cock.
Zayn breaks the kiss and speaks against Niall's lips.
"C'mere, Hazza," his hand finding the back of Harry's neck, pulling him in, turning his head slightly.
Harry surges forward, his lips latching to Zayn's, the familiar lips, the taste he dreams about in his sleep. They kiss for only a few moments, before both silently agreeing, turning their heads. Harry holds Niall by the back of the head and smiles slightly.
Niall doesn't need any sweet words or cajoling. He licks his lips and leans forward, as the three of them connect in the hottest kiss any of them have ever experienced. It's a tangle, of lips, tongues, breath. Zayn grips Harry by the hair, Harry holds Niall's head.
It's another fucking surprise when Niall reaches for each of them, grabbing at both of their crotches, his hands ghosting over each of their erections, both of them groaning into Niall's mouth at once. Harry feels the smile there, even through the kiss, on Niall's lips. He must love having both of them like this, hungry for him.
Zayn savors this moment, the moment they all three connect and get it, at once, that they're truly doing this together. Even when they've done this in the past, it's usually separate, but equal. Zayn fucks the guy, then the guy fucks Harry. Harry fucks the girl, then Zayn fucks her. Harry fucks the guy while Zayn watches, vice versa.
This is the first time it's felt like a tangible three way partnership, and Zayn almost fucking comes in his jeans as Niall grips him harder, as he feels Harry's tongue rolling around his with someone else's present.
They're still all completely dressed and it feels like they're on fire, like they're a mess of bodies about to combust.
Harry pulls away first, hand still in Niall's hair, as the three of them pant.
"Fuck," Niall mutters, wiping his face with his hand. "You both are so good. Wow."
Zayn looks at Harry, and Harry looks at Zayn, and that's it. They're dying for it now, to shower this stranger with affection, the stranger who gets them and likes them both equally. This boy from the club may turn out to be the best person they've ever wanted at the same time, together, as a pair. And they both know it.
Zayn grabs for Harry's hand first, pulls him to his feet, to place a sweet kiss on his lips, before they look down at Niall together. They each grab one of his hands and pull him towards their bedroom.
They both stare at Niall, standing near the foot of their bed, as he stares back. He's clearly hard, ready, anxious, now that they've started, now that he sees them both looking at him like he's gorgeous and completely wanted.
Zayn wants to unwrap him like a present, wants to appreciate every inch of skin that he can. He slowly walks behind Niall, his fingers running up his arm to his shoulders, one fluid motion, as he slips his shirt down his arms, leaving him in in just his white tank top. He places a kiss to his shoulder, to the freckled skin there, as he gets on the bed and kneels behind him, his lips at the back of his neck.
Harry sinks to his knees in front of him, hears his whine at the sight, and goes for Niall's fly. He gets the button undone and the zipper down, as Zayn lifts Niall's tank top off and tosses it to the floor. Harry lets Niall see him purposefully undo his pants and tug them slightly, before reaching for his own shirt, throwing it behind himself.
They love this part, both of them, undressing someone together. But it makes most people anxious, to be the only naked person in the room, so Harry sees Zayn strip to his briefs behind Niall's back, as Harry tugs his jeans and briefs all the way to the floor. Niall steps out of them, pulls at his socks, before straightening his body and taking a deep, calming breath.
Harry loves being on his knees at this vantage point, because Niall is fucking beautiful. He's thin, lean. He sees the flush in Niall's chest, up to his neck, as Harry stares at his naked torso, his thighs, his thick cock. It's wet at the tip, thicker than Zayn's, though not as long, and Harry wants to taste him. He looks up to Niall's face, right as Zayn's hands snake their way across his shoulders, down his arms, along his sides, his hips, feeling it all.
"Look at you," Harry whispers, eyes wide, an appreciative smile on his lips, his hands running along his thighs.
Niall doesn't say anything, he just looks down at Harry, most likely taking in his tattoos, his puffy nipples, the dip of his torso.
"You want Harry to get naked for you? Show you how hard you made him?" Zayn whispers in his ear, looking down at Harry over his shoulder.
"Yeah," Niall whines.
Harry stays on his knees as he undoes his belt, slowly, the button of his jeans, the zipper. He stares at Niall, flicks his eyes to Zayn for a moment. He loves the two sets of eyes on him, both wanting him and both about to have him.
He eventually gets up to stand in front of Niall, as Zayn's hands slide further across his torso, down his stomach, over his hips to his thighs, lightly scratching his pale skin with his nails. Harry finally gets his jeans and briefs off and on the floor, as Niall looks him up and down, sees the curve of his dick, the smear it leaves on his stomach. He's fucking huge, he knows he is, Zayn always says so, and Niall's eyes widen slightly.
"Look how hard he is," Zayn whispers again. "You wanna touch him?"
Niall reaches for him, gets his hand on Harry's cock, strokes him a few times, timidly. Harry's head falls back as his eyes slide closed, loving the feeling of a foreign hand on him, knowing Zayn loves it, too.
"No, eyes up, Harry. Be here," Zayn warns.
Harry brings his head back up, follows instructions even though he always naturally tends to close his eyes, as Zayn runs his hands up to Niall's chest and pinches his nipples lightly. Harry feels lightheaded, Niall's moving his hand faster.
But this isn't about him yet, this is about Niall, about the boy from the club with the kind eyes, the boy who watched Zayn's drink. And beyond that, he wants what Niall wants. He wants to do it however Niall wants. He looks to Zayn, does the thing with his face, with his eyes, sends the message, and Zayn nods immediately. He gets it.
He leans over Niall's shoulder to kiss Zayn again, to capture his lips for a brief moment, before turning his attention back to Niall.
"What do you want to do?" he questions, hands moving to Niall's arms, Zayn still playing with his nipples.
"I want… I just want… I want you both," he pants, face screwed up, clearly concentrating on not nutting all over Harry's torso before they even get started.
"Tell us. What do you like?" Zayn bites at his ear playfully.
"How?" Harry questions, still running his fingers along his arms.
"I want… I want one of you to fuck me. And I want to fuck one of you. I want… I want to feel it all at once," he pants, eyes closed. "At the same time. The three of us together. If you want to."
Zayn's eyebrows might as well be in his hairline, they fly up so fast, as he looks to Harry. Harry almost laughs, at how genuine Niall is, asking politely for it all.
"Then let's do that," Harry whispers, lips running along his jaw, up to his mouth, capturing him in a kiss.
Niall sighs into it, glad that he's useful again, instead of just standing there. His hands go to Harry's messy hair again, as they kiss, as it deepens. Zayn's hands stray south as they moan together, finally reaching Niall's cock, gripping it.
Niall groans into Harry's mouth. Harry bites his lip before breaking apart.
"You wanna taste Zayn, babe? You want him in your mouth?" Harry whispers into his neck.
Zayn shuffles back on the bed, lays against the headboard, as Harry physically turns Niall's body around. He's completely dazed and seems grateful for Harry's direction. Harry even bends him over to get his hands on the bed, to get him to crawl to Zayn.
Niall makes his way to Zayn, in a rush now. He bends down, on all fours, to take Zayn in his mouth. Zayn hisses at the feel of a mouth on him, finally, after what felt like years. Niall seems happy now, to be doing something he knows well, something he's done with other guys. He bobs up and down on Zayn, getting spit down his cut cock, as Zayn grabs for his hair and pulls.
"Fuck, that's good," he whispers, head tilted to the side to get a good view of Niall's pink lips wrapped around him.
"You like it?" Harry runs his hand down his spine.
Niall nods as best he can and sinks further.
Zayn's eyes are blown out, completely black, and it's with difficulty that he looks up to Harry sitting on the bed. He nods to their drawer, and then to Niall, as he gasps when Niall sucks harder.
Harry leans over to get the condoms and lube, a smile on his face, at the sounds Zayn's making. It's like music, Zayn in their bed. It doesn't have to be Harry causing the sounds, because Harry's always present to hear them. They're always together in these moments, even with a third person around.
He crawls behind Niall, still on his knees between Zayn's legs, ass in the air. It's gorgeous, perfect, as pale as the rest of him. Harry can't help himself, he grabs him in both hands, pulls his ass apart to get a good look. His light pink hole is right there. Harry looks up to lock eyes with Zayn. Fuck, it's good.
"M'gonna get you ready, babe. Get you ready for us," he says into Niall's lower back, before moving down to bite his ass.
Niall jumps at the sensation, but he groans around Zayn again.
Harry slicks up his fingers, eyes on Zayn. Zayn stares back at him, bottom lip between his teeth, hands in Niall's hair. Harry rubs the lube across Niall's entrance, gets him nice and wet, as Zayn whines.
He gets into the first knuckle of his index finger, moves it only slightly, when he feels him shift. Niall lifts his head, lets Zayn slip out of his mouth, as a grunt leaves his lips. It's guttural, low, rough.
"You okay?" Zayn huffs out, still gone, bringing Niall's chin up, looking down at him.
"Fuck, it's good. Yeah… it's… it's good," he whines, fingers digging into the bed, as Harry works his finger deeper.
Zayn nods to Harry, as he shifts his body, moving Niall's arm to get out from under him. Harry lets his finger slide out, and they both ease him onto his back. His eyes are still closed, face screwed up, still trying to hold off.
"You come whenever you want, babe. If you wanna come, let it go," Zayn says into his ear.
Niall just nods frantically. Harry gently folds his legs up at the knees, pushes them to his chest, as Zayn holds one.
"You're so fucking hot," Harry huffs out, as he works his finger back into him. "So tight."
"Gorgeous," Zayn says into his ear again, licking at the skin behind it, then down his neck.
Niall groans as Harry adds a second finger, stretching him further. His hands clench in fists at his sides, his body tightens, and Harry knows it's going to happen soon, that Niall's going to come and they're going to see it firsthand without either of them getting off first. It's fucking hot.
He can't let him teeter on the edge any more, so he nods at Zayn, who swiftly grips his cock in his hand, working it fast right as Harry curls his fingers up to hit his prostate, right as he slides his fingers across it.
Niall yells out, practically wrecks his vocal chords, his voice comes out so strong, as his entire body seizes up and he comes across his stomach, all over Zayn's hand, as Harry rubs at the little bud inside him, side to side. Niall cries again, the last string of come dribbling down Zayn's fingers.
"Fuck," Zayn groans as Niall comes down, as he breathes through it, chest heaving.
"I wanna taste," Harry says, sliding his fingers out of Niall slowly.
Zayn leans down and licks at the come on Niall's chest, up his abs to his nipples, before turning to Harry and shoving his tongue in his mouth. They kiss harshly, grabbing onto each other, reveling in what they just did to get Niall there, together, tasting Niall back and forth. He's sweet, just the right amount of salty, and Zayn can't help but smile against Harry's mouth. This is, they think yet again, the best idea they've ever had.
When they break apart, they smile, before looking down at Niall beneath them. His eyes are finally open again and he's looking up, watching them. He has his hand on his cock, and they can hardly believe it, that he's getting hard again already.
"S'it good?" Harry whispers, running his hand across Niall's chest.
"Fuck. That was fucking amazing," he smiles.
"Good," Zayn smiles back at him, grabbing his free hand.
"I wanna be between you now," Niall breathes out, eyes still wild. "I want you to fuck my ass and my mouth at the same time."
"Jesus Christ," Harry huffs, nearly falling over.
Zayn can't move his body fast enough. He shoves at Harry to get up by Niall's head, as he settles between Niall's legs. He can hardly believe this is about to happen, that he'll be fucking someone and look up to see Harry fucking his mouth, at the same time.
He doesn't even have the condom on yet, when he realizes that Niall's already sucked Harry into his mouth, his head thrown back, Harry up to the hilt down his throat, thighs on either side of his neck. Harry doesn't even speak, can't even say anything, as he looks up to Zayn's face, eyes wide.
Zayn rips the condom open and slides it on, lubes himself up, in about three seconds. He's pretty proud of himself for having brain function, for being able to do this, what with the sight beneath him and his boyfriend's cock in Niall's mouth already. But he does it, and once he catches Niall's rim with the tip of his cock, all three of them groan at once.
"Fuck, you open right up for me," Zayn sighs, as he sinks into him, as the tightness engulfs him. He sees stars, it's so fucking good, so new, so Niall.
"You both look fucking beautiful," Harry groans, as he leans down to play with Niall's nipples, the angle changing slightly, Niall gagging on him.
Zayn slides in slowly, inch by inch, until he's flush against Niall's body, his balls against his ass. He pulls out only slightly, just a bit, for him to stretch and get used to the feeling.
"You good? You okay?" Zayn asks, voice tight, trying not to move.
Niall makes a sound, a groan and a grunt and a sentence, all at once, muffled by Harry's cock in his mouth. Harry's head falls back at the sensation, afraid that if he stares at Niall's throat working on him, he'll come any second.
Zayn speeds up, shifts his knees out further and slams into him good now, careful not to shove him too far up, careful of his mouth wrapped around Harry, of the teeth behind his lips. He holds his hips, keeps him in place, pulls him down onto his cock, over and over, until he can feel sweat dripping down his back.
"I can't, I'm gonna come, Zayn. I'm gonna come," Harry whines, his head falling back to his chest, eyes still closed.
Niall must take that as his cue, because he reaches both hands up and taps at Harry's thighs. Harry moves away quickly, slipping out of his mouth. Niall lays there, his mouth open, jaw probably aching something awful, as Zayn fucks into him.
"You want Zayn to come inside you?" Harry wheezes out, a hand on his cock to hold off.
"No. No, no, no. I want us all to come together," Niall whines, body tensing again, trying to hold himself off now, as well.
Zayn slows down, lets his tight grip on Niall's hips go, as he slips out of him, out of breath. He needs to come, he needs it so fucking badly, but this is Niall's party. He's just the one who threw it.
They all need a moment, a breath.
"You wanna fuck Harry?" Zayn leans down to kiss him lightly, tasting Harry on his lips. "Me fucking you again? You decide, babe. All up to you."
Harry watches them kiss, sees Niall bring his hands up to Zayn's face, grateful, happy, and it makes his stomach feel warm. He crawls to Niall's other side, to lay next to him and watch up close, as Zayn's tongue runs along his bottom lip.
Zayn leans back slightly, for Niall to speak.
"Yeah. I want to fuck Harry," he looks up at him, "and I want you to fuck me. Same time."
Harry has to hold his cock in his hand again, has to apply pressure, to keep himself calm. He's so fucking needy now, needs to get off, needs something, and hearing Niall say these filthy things isn't helping.
Zayn looks down at Niall, at the face of this beautiful boy, looks right into his blue eyes, and he's almost positive Niall could ask Zayn to piss on him and he'd do it. It's terrifying, the level of trust and affection they already have for him, so he shakes his head. He needs to fucking do something, he's aching with it.
"You want to get Hazza ready? You want to stretch him out like he stretched you?" he says against his lips, as Harry gasps lightly next to them.
Niall nods furiously, kissing Zayn one last time, before pushing against his chest. Zayn smiles and sits back.
"Turn over," Niall tells Harry, eyes wild. "On your stomach."
Harry smiles at him, giddy now, and scurries to the center of the bed and throws himself down on his stomach. He spreads his legs, knees out, and shoves his ass back at them both. He wiggles it a little, which Zayn rolls his eyes at.
Niall looks at Zayn, so Zayn nods.
"M'gonna fuck you with my fingers, okay?" Niall says quietly, as Zayn hands him the lube, concentrating. "M'gonna get you ready so I can fuck you, Haz. Is that okay?"
Harry groans and nods into the bed, fingers grasping for a pillow.
But Zayn doesn't like this reaction, doesn't like that Harry didn't tell Niall how to handle him, to tell him what to do, so he smacks him good and hard, a swift slap on his right cheek. Harry hisses and Niall jumps, looking to Zayn's face, questioning.
"Don't ask him, tell him. Tell him what you wanna do, Niall. He knows better," Zayn says, voice level, slapping him again, harder. "Don't you?"
"Yeah. Sorry," he groans, rubbing his cock against the bed, needing friction. "Do what you want, Niall. Just do it. Tell me what you want. And do it."
"Go on, do it. He likes it, I swear," Zayn says, voice sweet again, hand running along the red circle of Harry's ass, settling his skin.
Niall nods again, excited, the smile back on his face, as he lubes up his fingers. Zayn takes the bottle from him and drizzles some down Harry's ass, him and Niall watching it drip down him to his balls, slowly.
"Fuck," Niall whispers, as he runs his finger against Harry's entrance.
He works his finger in up to the first knuckle, twists his hand slightly, feeling the ring of muscle Zayn knows is like the eighth wonder of the world.
"He's tight, right? Feel how tight he is? He fucking loves this, add another," Zayn says into his ear, moving behind Niall now, their legs entwined, his hands on Niall's shoulders.
Niall works his entire finger in and out two more times before adding his middle finger alongside it, scissoring them, stretching Harry like Harry did to him mere minutes before.
"How's it feel? Tell me," he asks Harry, right as Harry's legs twitch, his knees moving out, his body rubbing against the bed.
"Good. It's so good," Harry groans.
Niall runs his fingers across his prostate, returns the favor, as Zayn reaches down and grabs his cock in his right hand. Zayn hears the hitch in his breath, the rhythm of his fingers falter slightly, as he hardens even further with Zayn's fingers wrapped around him. He runs his left hand, his fingers along his ass, down to the hole he'd just been inside of, still wet and red.
"Can't wait to get inside you again," Zayn says into his shoulder, biting his skin.
"Okay," Niall whispers, fingers working in Harry even faster, just like Zayn hoped.
"You slipping into Hazza, me slipping into you. You're gonna feel it, Niall. You're gonna feel Harry tight around you, feel that heat. And I'm gonna be right behind you, fucking into you, stretching you even more. S'at sound good?"
It's Harry who makes the most noise at those words, a groan that practically bursts out of his lungs, as Niall adds a third finger and almost comes across his back.
"You think you can take me again?"
"Fuck. Fuck, yeah. Yeah, I can take you," Niall whines, his hand moving in and out of Harry at an alarming rate now, fast, hard, Harry's body moving up the bed from it.
"Stop teasing, stop," Harry cries out, trying to ease himself up onto his forearms and failing spectacularly.
"You ready, babe?" Zayn smirks, letting go of Niall's dick.
Harry nods into the mattress, his hair flying, his knees shifting on either side of him, rubbing into the bed, fucked out and needy. Zayn can't help it, he leans across Niall and kisses Harry's ass, the red mark he made, because he loves the stupid idiot so goddamn much.
Niall watches him, a smile on his lips.
Zayn grabs for the condom, hands it to Niall, smiling back, as Harry writhes around on the bed beneath them.
"He likes it hard," Zayn says into his ear, as he lines himself up with Harry's hole. "Lay down on him, babe. And spread your legs if you can."
Niall nods and holds himself up to Harry, before sliding in with a groan. Harry melts beneath him, his body relaxing all at once, as Niall sinks down, down, down. Zayn can't stop staring, as Niall's thick cock slips into Harry, his hole wet and stretching around him.
He does what Zayn said, he lays almost all the way across his body, his chest covering Harry's wide back, trying to get leverage to fuck him harder. Harry's a blubbering mess by this point, face in the sheets, cursing up a storm. Zayn almost laughs. Harry becomes feral when he gets into this mindset, wild and uninhibited.
"You feel amazing," Niall groans into Harry's back, hands on either side of his head.
Zayn watches for a few minutes, watches Niall fuck Harry into oblivion, over and over, listens to the slap of his balls against Harry's perky little ass, until he can't take it anymore.
He grabs for Niall's hips, shifts him slightly so he can line himself up preparing, adding more lube.
"You ready for me, babe?" he asks Niall, knowing Harry would only groan in response.
"Yes, come on. Fuck me, I wanna feel it," Niall huffs, fucking into Harry again.
Zayn stills them both, stills Niall's movements and finally comes behind him entirely, slipping into him like before, all wet and tight around him. His eyes roll back in his head, at the relief of feeling his ass around him again, his cock practically yelling at him to get a move on. He's not going to last long.
"Fuck," Niall cries out, as Zayn swiftly sinks into him.
It must look like quite the sight, Zayn fucking Niall while Niall's fucking Harry. He's heard of the beast with two backs, but this is definitely new for all of them, three people coming together like this. He can't even imagine what it's like for Niall, to have that tightness around his cock and the fullness of Zayn inside him.
"How's it feel?" Harry croaks out, lungs constricted from the weight on top of him. Zayn tries to get leverage and not lean down, but it's hard, he can't focus.
"I'm gonna… I think I'm…" Niall mumbles, face screwed up again, against Harry's back.
Zayn speeds up, puts all his strength into it, as he fucks down into Niall, shoving Niall further into Harry. They're all loud now, grunting and panting like they'll never be able to stop, Harry cursing over and over. It's too much. It's not enough. It's a lot. It's everything.
He's not going to last, and he's sure that Niall won't last much longer either. And because Harry Styles is a beautiful soul with an uncanny ability to read every single person around him, he does what he does best.
"You gonna come in me, Niall? You wanna come inside me while Zayn fucks you? Come on," Harry whines, legs moving, shoving his ass back at them both, teeth clenched.
"You like me fucking into you? Like how I make you fuck Harry harder?" Zayn groans into his ear, helping Harry along, shoving Niall into Harry again and again.
Niall's about to speak, his lungs expand, his mouth opens and he readies the words, he swears it. But nothing comes out as he tenses, as his body lurches forward and he comes harder than he ever has before, into Harry, right as Zayn slams into his prostate.
Zayn almost dies, he's sure of it, as Niall clenches around him and loses it, careening off the cliff. He grabs his hips, needs to hold on, as he shoots his load into the condom and fucks through it, wave after wave, coming over him like a fucking hurricane.
Harry's last, which he's surprised about, but maybe he needed to hear them both come, needed to hear their sounds and feel their weight, needed them both to be happy and safe, because once Zayn wheezes that last time, once he feels Niall shift into him as he comes down from his own orgasm, Harry loses it, too. His vision blurs as the weight settles on him, as his balls tighten and he comes across their Egyptian cotton sheets, his voice gone, probably forever, if he's betting on it.
The three of them, all at once, realize the tangled mess they're in, Harry being crushed beneath them. Zayn slips out of Niall as pleasantly as he can, flopping back on the bed, Niall following him soon after by his side. Harry, once the two boys are off his back, can breathe properly again, so he turns over and looks at the ceiling, his eyes heavy, his arm next to Niall's.
Niall speaks first, much to their amusement. They all break out into laughter at his declaration.
"You do that all the time?" he asks, head moving from side to side, looking at them both.
"That? Never. Never like that," Harry smiles.
"Never in a million fucking years, has it been like that," Zayn agrees.
"Good," Niall sighs, eyes closing. "I kinda like that I'm the best."
Harry and Zayn lock eyes, each thinking to themselves and sending the message with their faces. I really fucking love you, you know that?
Harry somehow manages to get up from the bed, his legs practically jelly beneath him, but he needs to clean them up. He wants them to lay together, snuggle if Niall's up for it, talk before falling asleep, and he refuses to lay in jizz, thank you very much.
But when he gets back into the bedroom, a damp towel in his hand, he finds Niall curled around Zayn, his head on his chest, Zayn's fingers in his hair. They're already dozing, and Harry can't help but smile.
He quietly and efficiently wipes them off, disposes of the condoms, moves them slightly so he can get the top sheet off the bed. Neither of them move, too fucked out to do anything.
Harry turns off the lights and crawls into bed, curls around Zayn's other side, grabbing Niall's hand in the center of his stomach.
"We should keep him, for nights when we wanna have fun, if he'll have us," Harry nuzzles into Zayn's neck, kissing the skin behind his ear.
"No more club nights, huh?" Zayn whispers back, not asleep after all, kissing his head.
"We'll see," Harry sighs, hoping Niall wants to do this again.
They're just about asleep, Harry's in that in-between place between sleep and awake, when Niall speaks again, with a sweet sigh.
"I'll put my number in your phones."
They all smile in the dark, Harry and Niall holding their hands tighter on Zayn's chest.
All good signs.