Nick jerks awake at the sound of the doorbell. He wipes drool off his chin and groans. Pig twitches, but she only rouses when Nick gently pushes at her side. She shakes herself and hops to the floor with one of her characteristic grunts.
"Yeah," Nick says with another groan, getting to his feet and stretching. "'M too old for this. You, on the other hand, should be fighting off fit doggie blokes. Or ladies. All options, really."
Pig grunts again and climbs on the couch where Nick was, curling up in the remaining warmth and closing her eyes again, as Nick picks up his phone and checks the time.
Sleep. Sleep is good. He could easily go to his bed, put the duvet over his head, and pretend it isn't Louis at the door. Of course, the bell's going again, and if Louis's drunk or just in that kind of mood, he'll start pounding on the door before long. Call out Nick's name, maybe. Neighbours will love that.
So Nick drags himself to the door and opens it, revealing a well-dressed Louis with his dress jacket slung over his shoulder and his hair styled up. Nick's mouth goes dry.
"Well, don't just stand there." Louis pushes past him and inside. He doesn't smell of any substance whatsoever, although Nick probably just can't smell Louis's usual tobacco undercurrent anymore. "I want my bed at some point before dawn."
Nick blames his sleep-foggy brain for the amount of time it takes him to stop staring at how nicely Louis's dress trousers cling to his arse and answer. "Bit late for that," he says finally, shifting his gaze to watch Louis's fingers untie his shoelaces instead. "Your bed's...not here. Why are you here?"
Louis hangs the dress jacket on one of the hooks. He's wearing a t-shirt - a designer t-shirt, but one with a general punk vibe - and his dress trousers, and if it wasn't for his hair, he'd look almost casual.
"Because," Louis says, "I sleep best after I come, and your flat was on the way."
There's a moment of silence while Nick tries to read Louis's face. When Nick's seen enough, he barks a laugh. "And what makes you think I'll get you off? You expect I'll drop to my knees right here?"
"Cheers," Louis says. "If I like it enough, I'll ride you in the bedroom until I come a second time. I sleep better that way."
He reaches out to twist Nick's nipple, which Nick bats away easily with a hand. It's a nice distraction from the fact that Nick can feel himself getting turned on just from the careless tone of Louis's voice.
"Could throw you out on the street," Nick says as Louis closes the distance between them. Nick flinches back in case of more nipple attacks, but his back's against the door, so there's nowhere to go.
"Could do," Louis agrees. He reaches out again, but this time, it's to drag his hand over Nick's crotch through his pyjama bottoms. "But you won't."
He rolls up on his toes to reach Nick's lips, and Nick lets Louis pull him into a deep, dirty snog. Nick head's is spinning when Louis pulls back, but part of that is due to Louis's smirk.
Louis always knows when he's won.
"Give a man some room," Nick says, pushing Louis back. Louis lets Nick guide him to take his place against the door, but then Louis pushes at his Nick's shoulder to get him down to his knees faster. Swatting him away doesn't work; Louis just switches hands and shoulders.
"And make sure to swallow," Louis says as Nick fumbles to pull out Louis's hardening cock. "Don't want to take these to the cleaners with jizz all down the front."
Nick suspects that's exactly what Louis deserves. Laundry isn't what has Nick's attention right now, though. Louis has a nice cock, well-proportioned and uncut, and it's firming up the more Nick plays with it. Much more interesting.
"Your mouth," Louis says, lacing his fingers in Nick's hair. "Not your hand."
The effect's somewhat ruined by the breathiness in Louis's voice. He also groans when Nick licks at the tip, pushing at Nick's head until Nick swipes at Louis's hand for what's probably the millionth time that night.
"You're...you're making me wish I'd stuck with a bottle of lube and me own hand." The fact that Louis sounds like he's forcing it out makes Nick smile, and Nick waits until Louis's speaking again to slide his mouth full onto Louis's cock. "Would have been much...fucking hell."
Nick chuckles quietly, and Louis's hips jerk up into Nick's mouth.
"Hello, Nicholas Grimshaw."
Nick steps aside from his door. "Hello, Harry Styles. Bearing Starbucks, I see. What have I done to deserve this?"
Harry hands Nick the drink he's brandishing and steps inside. "It's a gift from a mutual friend."
Nick sips on the coffee. It's his exact order. "A mutual friend who knows what I like to drink?"
"He doesn't actually know the way you take your coffee. He asked me to get it in my role as ambassador."
Uh oh. The combination of Harry not immediately settling in Nick's flat like he normally does on his first post-tour visit and the smirk on Harry's face is likely dangerous. "Ambassador? For what?"
"You," Harry pokes Nick in the chest, "have an admirer. One who'd like to have dinner with you."
Nick's head spins. Who is he friends with who is also friends with Harry and would ask Nick out? "Just to be clear, we are talking a date, yes?"
Harry beams. "I never thought Louis would actually stop pining from afar, but he texted this morning and asked if I would help."
Louis. Nick frowns until his brain supplies the missing surname. "As in Tomlinson?"
"The very one. Oh!" Harry sticks his hands in his front pockets, digging his phones out of skinny jean pockets far too small to hold them properly. "Let's see...he said he'd ask himself, but he didn't think you'd believe...here we are."
Harry shoves his phone in Nick's face, and Nick's vision goes double before he recovers enough to take Harry's phone to read Harry's messages from a reasonable distance. And sure enough. "Christ. Louis Tomlinson wants to go on a date with me." He frowns as he hands the phone back to Harry. "This isn't a prank? There won't be film crews?"
Harry can obviously tell from Nick's tone of voice that he's joking because Harry smirks even more. "It'll be at your place to minimise exposure, so if there are any film crews, you don't have to let them in. I'll text you his number so you can work out details."
A few moments later, Harry's swept out the door, leaving Nick with a buzzing phone in his pocket, a coffee in hand, and a lot of bewildered - but not displeased - thoughts in his head.
Louis's fucking Nick's mouth.
They've never done this before on either end; it's difficult for two men whose livelihoods depend on their voices to do something so rough on them. Well, it's difficult to clear their schedules enough, at any rate. Nick's pushing it now considering he's on-air again in two days.
But Christ, it's amazing, all of it: the drag of Louis's cock in Nick's mouth, the way Nick gets to dig his fingers into Louis's round thighs, and, most of all, Louis's cries as he shoves in. Nick knows Louis's noises well enough to tell when Louis's about to come, and when those noises start, Nick slides back to the front of Louis's cock and works the head with his tongue, ignoring Louis's attempts to thrust more.
Nick makes a disapproving noise, and that, of all things, is what tips Louis over the edge. Since he's generally a nice person and extremely talented, Nick catches most of it with his mouth and doesn't mess Louis's dress trousers.
He sits back on his heels and watches Louis regain his breath and whatever composure he usually has. (Which is a lot, actually. Nick's never known anyone to work so hard at appearing to care so little.) Nick's half hard himself. It wasn't the blowjob - he gets something more akin to professional satisfaction, like a good radio show or a satisfactory DJ gig, than arousal out of giving oral sex - but the feel of Louis against him, the sound of Louis in his ears...yeah, that was definitely enough to rev him up.
"Ready to get the life fucked out of you?" Nick asks it casually, but the roughness of his throat ruins the effect a bit.
Louis smirks. "We'll see."
Nick is dating Louis Tomlinson.
"You mean shagging," Collette says after a moment. She doesn't really know who Louis is beyond him being a colleague of Harry's, but she knows how Nick's dating life usually works.
"That's just it," Nick says, taking a drag from his cigarette to give himself a moment's composure. "We've only kissed."
Collette cackles, probably with surprise, and Nick can hardly blame her. Nick is firmly a "sex on the first date" kind of fellow. No, actually, Nick is a "we'll shag for weeks and maybe if we like each other we'll give it a proper go" kind of fellow, and that's only in the few instances when Nick actually makes it past fucking. He's never done...this. Whatever this is.
He shifts on the sofa, pauses to yell along song lyrics with Daisy and Pixie in the kitchen at the drink-mixing station they've established, and shrugs at Collette. "Don't understand it myself. He comes round, we mock each other, make food, maybe watch telly, and then..."
"Yes?" Collette prompts when Nick falls silent, her eyes twinkling.
"We...give each other a good-night kiss and go our separate ways."
"Fucking hell, Grimmy! You're not dating; you're fucking married."
Collette bends over with laughter, and Nick can't help but laugh too. Maybe he's thirty, but he never thought he'd be a man with a job that means an early bedtime and a slow-moving romantic relationship. He's beyond an adult. He's a bloody stereotype.
"I just..." Nick sighs when they've calmed down a little, and he watches Daisy and Pixie run out the back door for reasons that Nick will investigate shortly. "I don't think either of us wants to fuck this up."
Collette makes an obvious effort to calm herself down, and then she pats his arm. "I know, love. It's sweet. Just let me know where you're registered, will you? I want to get you two a kettle before anyone else does."
She cackles again, and Nick hangs his head.
Louis herds Nick toward the bedroom and orders Nick to get his kit off. When Nick reaches forward to help Louis first, Louis pushes his hand away and says, "I'll get myself sorted, thanks. Now you just need to get naked. And on the bed."
It's well enough for someone who's already had an orgasm to say, but Nick just sighs and complies. His clothes are easier to take off anyway; Nick had changed earlier after Louis had texted him and he'd bowed out of drinks with Aimee and Alexa, switching into comfortable clothes without anything underneath. When he shrugs off his pyjama bottoms and t-shirt, he's naked as the day he was born, if a bit taller and hairier. Louis's hanging his dress clothes more carefully than Nick would have suspected was possible for him. Nick shoves the duvet to the side and sits on the edge, lounging, and he slides his hand over his cock after he sees Louis taking off the last of his own clothes.
But Louis doesn't let Nick look for very long. He turns, hands on his hips, and says, "Well?"
"Well what?" Nick asks in return.
Louis huffs and walks to Nick's bedside table. He fishes out a bottle of lube and hands it to Nick. "Go on then," Louis says, stepping back with his arm crossed. "Give us a show."
A part of Nick feels as if he's a child back at lessons. A much larger part of him feels turned on. He decides not to wonder if the two feelings are connected and pops the bottle open, squeezing some lube into the palm of his hand. He wraps his hand around his cock again and starts working his hand up and down the shaft slowly.
"No, no." Louis grabs Nick's wrist lightly to stop him.
"What?" Nick asks. "Do you have a preferred pace?"
Louis smirks and tugs at Nick's wrist. Nick lets Louis guide his hand until it's at his side, nudging at his arse.
"Preferred place, more like," Louis says.
"Blowjobs aren't romantic," Louis says with a snort.
"They're sexy and fun, but romantic?"
"There is nothing more romantic than committing yourself to sucking on the appendage your partner wees out of."
Louis's face screws up, but he's laughing.
"Is this why we haven't shagged?" Nick asks, shifting closer to Louis on the sofa.
"Because you're not sexy?"
"Am too." Nick pats Louis's knee. "No, I mean...you want it to be romantic?"
Louis sighs. "It sounds ridiculous when you put it like that."
"No! It isn't." Nick scoots even closer. He can feel Louis's warmth this way. It's nice. "I'm just not the one people go to when they want romance. A good party, yes. Orgasms in the toilets, absolutely. But romance? Pull the other one."
Louis frowns, but it looks like he's mulling something. Finally, he says, "So that's why you think blowjobs are romantic. Not enough love in your life."
He pinches Nick's nipple, and Nick squeaks, then lunges forward to tackle Louis. Maybe they haven't worked up to orgasms yet, but at least Nick can't say he hasn't rolled around with Louis yet.
Nick can't remember the last time he bottomed. It isn't that he's opposed to it; he gets bored by traditional top-bottom dynamics and all the politics that go with them. But Nick tends to be attracted to certain types that have stronger preferences than he does, and Nick isn't so bored that he'll skip the shag altogether, thanks.
But even when he's bottomed, it's never been like this. Lying at the end of the bed, everything on display, someone - Louis - watching Nick finger himself.
Louis doesn't ask how it feels...or anything, really. He's rather silent. Nick only knows he's there because he can hear him breathing, since Nick can't comfortably lift his head.
"Another finger?" Nick asks, trying to provoke a response. He already has two in.
"Mmm," Louis says. Very helpful.
Nick goes for it, hears Louis's sharp intake of breath, and grins to himself as he slides his fingers in and out of his hole. It's been a while, so it's a lot, but it feels rather good. Nick thinks he's ready for the next part, and he waits for Louis to say he is as well.
But Louis, still, says nothing.
Finally, Nick huffs, pulls out his fingers, and sits up on his elbows. "Well? How do you want me?"
"On your side," Louis says cheerfully, like they hadn't spent all this time just lying about. "Think I'm too lazy to do much work."
"Could ride you."
Louis shakes his head and pats Nick on the arse. "Let's go. Don't have all night."
Nick sighs an overly put-on sigh, but as Louis climbs on the bed with him, he rolls obediently on his side.
Louis tells Nick ahead of time when the date they're setting is going to have more.
"I think I'm ready," he says on the phone in a solid voice. "Are you?"
Nick manages to stifle the laughter that's threatening to come out. He'd been ready ages ago. Three months is longer than he's ever waited to really explore the physical side of a relationship. (Granted, Nick thinks part of the reason for the period of time was that Louis has been on tour, but such is the life of dating a young, gorgeous, millionaire pop star.)
"Absolutely," Nick replies.
So Louis comes over that night and they start things much the way they always do: dinner, telly, climb into bed. (Lord, they really are married. Nick should just propose right now and sort out the formalities.) They'd worked in cuddles and sleeping a couple nights before Louis left on the latest leg of the tour. Louis had been there in the morning, and Nick had whipped up breakfast and watched a rumpled Louis drink tea (that he'd brought himself, of course - apparently Louis felt no urge to risk the important things). And Nick had liked it all.
But it still feels very natural for Nick to kiss Louis in his bed, and to fuck Louis in missionary. Practically heteronormative, minus the moment Louis had smirked and asked Nick to call Louis a slut. Nick has done it seriously in bed before and quite liked it, but Louis is obviously not that sort, so Nick takes the piss and they both have to take breaks from laughing to come.
It's all easy, oddly. And extremely delightful.
Louis slides in with relative ease; it's hard to get one's leverage on the side, Nick thinks. But when Louis makes it all the way in, he's flush with Nick's back, and all the contact feels nearly overwhelming, considering how the rest of the night's gone.
"I..." Louis breaks off with a loud yawn, which makes Nick yawn in return. "Fuck, let's do this quick. I'm knackered."
"Sexy." But Nick does his best to help, meeting Louis's lazy rhythm with a push back of his own, squeezing around Louis whenever Nick gets a moment to do so.
After a bit, Nick starts to grab his own cock, but he pauses. "Fancy giving me a hand?" he asks Louis.
"No," Louis says with a bit of a grunt, thrusting harder.
"Don't mind if I do, then," Nick says with a mutter, and he starts jerking himself as the sound of their hips slapping together fills the room. He feels a bit like a come rag, a Fleshlight or something, and being used shouldn't make his toes curl, but it does. Lord, it does.
"Think you'll stick around 'til tomorrow?" Nick asks. "Or are you going to run out the door like you said? Suspect a bed you're already in is more comfortable than a bed you have to travel to."
Louis scoffs. "Shut up."
And that's what gets Nick to come (in a tissue he grabbed; he doesn't fancy changing his sheets or sleeping in the wet spot). Louis makes a sound behind him and goes faster until his pace studders, and then falters, and then he's holding Nick close as he comes.
They're post-coital on Facetime; Louis's off somewhere else in Europe (Stockholm, Nick knows it's Stockholm, he knows where Louis is every day), and Nick's in bed, and they've both jerked off listening to each other doing the same. Louis looks sleepy and darling.
"Miss you," Nick says.
Louis nods. "Want to do something for you when I get back."
"Yeah? Must say, designer always makes a lovely gift."
"No, numpty. I mean something special. Something for the two of us." Louis frowns. "Not a physical gift. Well, unless you want a sex toy. Fancy a cock ring?"
"Or maybe ropes? You don't seem the bondage type, but I suppose we could always learn."
Nick holds up a hand to stop Louis talking. "Where did this come from?"
"Dunno." Louis shrugs, eyes not meeting...well, the camera that displays his face to Nick. Louis's very good with cameras. Nick always stares at the screen of his phone when they Facetime, which makes it look as if he's staring at something away from Louis's face, but Louis looks directly into the lens.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I..." Louis throws up his hands. "I'm not very good at it."
Nick laughs, and he makes himself stop at the hurt look on Louis's face. "No, love, I mean...that is so completely untrue. You are very, very good at sex."
"I made you wait forever."
"I'll have you know a couple months is not an eternity. You'll know that in your old age." Nick has very carefully not told Louis how much he wanted to get off with Louis in that period of time. It's not fair.
"We do it all..." Louis waves a hand. "Like a gran would."
"If a gran can use her mouth like you can, hats off to her."
Louis makes an impatient noise. "But what I do is boring. The standard shit. You were getting off with models in toilets. I could never do that!"
"And you don't have to. That's not what sex is about. It's not public sex or Fifty Shades of One Direction." Nick pauses and hums. "Catchy, that. Your team should think about cross-promotion."
"I just want to make you happy."
Nick can feel his face soften. And see it, in the little box in the corner. "You do."
"But we're doing what I like in bed all the time."
"I like it, too."
"Would you be doing something else if you could?"
"Something else? No."
"But a little more."
Nick sighs and rolls on his back. "Are you asking about my fantasies? Do you want to talk about the stuff I've liked to do before? Because we can. But if I wasn't happy with what we're already doing, don't you think I'd say so?"
Louis falls silent for a moment, and Nick risks a look on the camera. Louis's staring at his pillow intently.
"Okay," Louis says. "I trust you. That you would say something."
"That's good to hear."
"I'd still like to hear what you've liked in bed, though."
Nick grins. "As long as you wank yourself while I talk."
The place where Louis had been lying in bed is still warm. Nick pats at it with a hand.
Louis comes back in with a flannel and a concerned expression.
"Thought you left," Nick says, stretching his arms over his head and sighing the contented sigh of one who's just been well-shagged. "Have to get your night's sleep."
"Was all that really what you were thinking of?" Louis says, slipping onto the bed with a kiss to Nick's cheek. "Felt like a right shithead."
Nick sighs happily again, humming off-key a little until Louis starts laughing.
"So does that explain the models?" Louis rubs at Nick's messy tummy with the flannel. "Wanted to be used by someone pretty who ran off the next day?"
Nick shakes his head. "No, I always got on well with that lot. Most of them stayed on for breakfast and ridiculous selfies before they never called me again."
Nick kisses Louis's cheek. "So toss that in the bathroom and I'll tell you."
"This is me trying to connect with you, you know," Louis says over his shoulder as he pads off into the other room, voice rising as there's more distance between them. "Open communication and all."
"Well done, you," Nick calls back.
Louis runs back in the room and bounces on the bed, cackling. Nick bounces up a little himself and laughs too, pulling Louis into a hug and pulling up the sheets.
"So," Louis says again.
"So," Nick agrees. "It's just a fantasy. Doesn't have to have a basis in reality. But it is a bit of a special one."
"Because..." Nick takes a bit of a breath. "Have to trust whoever I do it with, right? And I have to know him pretty well because it doesn't work if that's what our fucking's like all the time."
Louis tilts his head enough to bite Nick's shoulder gently. Nick obliges him with a fake pained noise before he sinks down in the bed more.
"Now can we do our usual..." Nick breaks off into a yawn. "Our usual shagging again? This was fun, but fucking hell."
"Sorry. I didn't know the premiere would go that late."
"Didn't know the lads would actually want to stay out at the afterparty that late, more like." Nick had snuck a peek at his phone while Louis was in the loo a few minutes ago. Louis had texted Nick saying they could try it later if Nick fancied going to bed. There had been a picture of Niall waving, too. Nick doesn't regret sleeping through the messages, but he'd forwarded Matt the Niall picture immediately.
Louis shrugs, unapologetic. And there's no reason why he should be sorry. Nick's cancelled on Louis a couple times for his own friends. It's one of the reasons they work; they both know when friends take priority.
Nick kisses his nose. "Night, love."
Louis gives Nick one of Nick's favourite smiles: sleepy and sweet. "Night."
They cuddle as they drift off. They really are disgusting. Nick's never been happier about it.