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Might as Well

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Harry’s bandmates keep ending up on their knees in front of him. Or on top of him. Harry hasn't exactly kept track of the more minute details, some of the more impressive moments pushing them out of his brain in their favour.


The first time it happens, it’s with Zayn, the two of them tangled together on an anonymous hotel bed watching whatever terrible television is on at 1am. It’s still dark outside when Harry opens his eyes, the only light in the room the flickering light from the television, and he blinks down at the heavy weight of Zayn’s head on his lap. They must have fallen asleep, and Harry smiles, tired and fond and drops his hand to Zayn’s head, carding through his hair. Zayn’s hair is soft, and Harry can smell his shampoo when he ruffles his hair just right, fingernails scratching gently over Zayn’s scalp. Zayn sighs a little in his sleep, shifting until his mouth is pressed right alongside Harry’s dick, just the thin fabric of Harry’s sweats between them.

Harry gasps a little, the warmth of Zayn’s breath a little more pleasant than he’d expected. He keeps running his fingers through Zayn’s hair even as he tries to shift his hips away, his cock rapidly becoming pretty interested in the whole situation. Harry tugs a little on Zayn’s hair, trying to move him without waking him, but all that happens is that Zayn moans and presses his head back into Harry’s hand, and Harry’s dick swells even further. He curses, feels heat spreading across his cheeks and nudges Zayn’s shoulder.

“Zayn.” Zayn just snuffles and presses his face more into Harry’s crotch. “Zayn.” Harry pushes harder on Zayn’s shoulder, shaking him a little. “You should get up, mate.”

Zayn lifts his head, eyes blinking blearily as he lifts a hand to wipe at his mouth. “Harry? Why’d you wake me up?”

“Um. Well, I was playing with your hair and you kind of. Moaned. And, well.” Harry gestures, and even in the darkness of the room, the outline of his hard cock in his sweats is plain to see. He watches as Zayn licks his lips, scrunching his face up in thought for a second before shrugging. Zayn leans forward and presses his mouth back against the hard line of Harry’s dick, this time full of intent and purpose, and Harry nearly yelps, his hand flying back into Zayn’s hair to tug him away.

“Zayn. What. Are you sure?” Harry’s voice is ragged, and his fingers clenched what he thought was too tightly in Zayn’s hair, but Zayn just moans and nods already tugging Harry’s sweats down over his thighs as he answers, “Might as well.”

Harry wants to ask what he means by that, but it’s too late. Zayn’s mouth is warm and perfect and sliding down Harry’s dick like he’s on a mission and Harry’s fairly certain he’s forgotten how to speak. He groans as Zayn flicks his tongue over the sensitive head, tugging on Zayn’s hair just to feel the way Zayn moans around him, the vibrations making him feel like he’s going to shake apart. He can feel the heat pooling in his belly, his bollocks drawing up tight as Zayn keeps at it, Zayn’s eyes flicking up now and then to lock with Harry’s, dark and mischievous.

It’s when Harry sees Zayn shove a hand down his own sweats that he starts to lose it. He can see the muscles in Zayn’s forearm working as he fists his own cock, and Zayn’s moaning around him again, his rhythm going wet and sloppy. Harry clenches his fingers hard in Zayn’s hair as he comes, whimpering a little at the way his come slicks Zayn’s lips as Zayn pants, his own orgasm hitting him nearly the moment Harry’s come hit his tongue.

After they’ve cleaned up and tossed sticky sweats into a heap in the corner, Zayn curls around Harry and yanks the blankets up over them even as the sun is finally starting to brighten the sky. Harry wraps his arm around Zayn’s shoulder and holds him close tilting his face up to kiss him lazily, tasting his own bitter taste on Zayn’s tongue. He pulls away when they’re both getting breathless, grinning. “Might as well?”

Zayn shrugs and smiles sleepily. “Yeah, might as well.” He tucks in closer, and before Harry can even respond, he hears Zayn’s breathing, slow and steady. Harry sighs and slides his hand back into Zayn’s hair, playing lightly with the soft hairs at the base of his skull. This certainly wasn’t how Harry had thought his evening would go, but for some reason, he just can’t find it in himself to complain.


The next time it happens, Harry is even more caught off guard, if that’s possible. He’s just gotten out of the shower and is messing with his hair in the mirror when the door swings open. As usual, he’d forgotten to lock the door to the adjoining room and also as usual, he’s completely naked, and just grabbing for a towel when Liam steps through the door.

“Harry! Oh God, I’m sorry mate, here let me...” Harry can’t tell if Liam is trying to close the door, hand him a towel or do some kind of elaborate rain dance, but before he can puzzle it out Liam is down, slipping in a careless puddle Harry had dripped onto the floor.

“Jesus, Liam, are you alright?” Harry leans over to help him up, and gets close enough to see the flush on Liam’s cheeks, the way his eyes are just a little glassier than usual. “Li?”

Liam shifts up onto his knees and looks up at Harry, who’s still wet and more than a little confused. He can practically feels Liam’s eyes roving him up and down, and something about this is beginning to feel a little like deja vu. He can tell the moment Liam’s eyes reach his groin because the flush that started on his face spreads all the way down his neck, and Harry can actually hear Liam swallow. Liam looks back up to Harry’s face, and then back to his dick, and reaches behind him to push the door shut.

His hands are strong on Harry’s hips, and Harry goes willingly as Liam pushes him back against the counter, the edge digging into Harry’s skin sharply. “Li, what are you doing?”

Liam looks away from Harry’s face for a moment, almost bashful, but when he looks back, the look on his face is much more hungry. “I’ve been thinking...and I thought, well, this seemed a good opportunity. So. Might as well?”

There was the deja vu again. “Might as well,” Harry nearly croaks, his brain filling with images of Zayn in much the same position and he wonders if he’s somehow the victim of an elaborate long con. What getting his dick sucked by his best mates could possibly have to do with that he’s not sure, but he’ll work on that later. When Liam’s not on his knees in front of him, tentative fingers wrapping around his half-hard dick, stroking him almost teasingly gently.

Liam looks up at Harry for one last nod of permission, and then leans in to swallow his cock too the root. Harry grips onto the edge of the slick countertop as best he can, but he can already feel his legs starting to give way underneath him. He can tell that Liam doesn’t have a ton of experience, but he couldn’t possibly care less as long as Liam keep pressing his tongue just there. Liam’s hands are big, wrapped around Harry’s slim hips, thumbs digging into the hollows near his hip bones. He’s holding Harry so tight that Harry is sure he’s going to bruise, and he presses harder into the touch to make sure he does.

Harry’s orgasm shocks him, hitting him suddenly when Liam pushes him back hard into the counter and drags his mouth up Harry’s cock, the sharpness of his teeth just barely catching on the sensitive rim. A sob bursts from Harry’s chest, and when he looks down and sees Liam’s flushed face and red lips, his dick tenting in his trousers he lets himself fall to the ground, crashing into Liam for perhaps the least graceful kiss in the history of the world.

Liam stiffens underneath him for a moment but then gives into it, opening his mouth for Harry to lick his own taste away, Harry’s hand pushing insistently inside Liam’s trousers and wrapping around his cock. It doesn’t take long before Liam is arching beautifully against him, moaning and scraping his teeth down Harry’s jaw to worry at the soft skin just below his ear. He comes almost silently, a soft, shuddery gasp the only warning before Harry feels the warmth flood over his fist and seep into Liam’s trousers. They lay there like that for a few moments, Liam looking adorably satisfied and maybe a little awed, and Harry feeling a bit blindsided, but not in a negative way.

“Um...Harry?” Liam shifts beneath him, and Harry finally works his hand back out from Liams trousers.


“Are you done with the shower? I’m a bit...” Liam gestures to the mess soaking through the front of his trousers, and Harry leans in to kiss him quickly when the flush starts spreading across his face again.

“Yeah, of course.” Harry stands and finally succeeds in wrapping a towel around his waist. He’s about to thank Liam or something, but he thinks maybe that would be even weirder than what just happened, and while he’s trying to decide, Liam’s already turned the water on and stripped, pulling the curtain aside to step under the spray. Harry just rubs a hand through his hair and goes to get dressed, trying not to think too hard about what might happen next.


By the third time it happens, Harry is certain some higher power must be messing with him. Harry’s back home at his flat during a well-needed week off, and Niall’s decided he wants to spend a few days there before going back to Ireland. Harry’s happy to have him, because if he’s honest, as overwhelming as it can be being in such close proximity to the guys all the time, it’s really hard to go cold turkey and be totally alone again.

A small tower of empty beer bottles is rapidly growing taller near the sofa, and Harry’s head is feeling pleasantly fuzzy as he and Niall shout at the telly, gesturing wildly as if the football players inside it could hear them. Niall suddenly swings his arm out, the hand holding his beer flailing until Harry feels the lukewarm splash of beer in his hair and dripping down into his eyes.

“Hey!” Harry attacks, pausing only long enough to pluck the now mostly empty bottle from Niall’s hand before leaping onto him and pinning him to the sofa. He shakes his hair out over Niall’s face, splashing him with drops of beer, and that’s enough to egg Niall on.

The next thing Harry knows he’s on the floor facing the opposite direction he started in, his shirt is missing at least one button and Niall is on top of him, panting and red-faced and entirely triumphant.

“I win!” Niall pumps his fist into the air and grins, keeping Harry pinned to the floor easily with one hand.

Harry struggles against him a little, but he can’t get any leverage in the narrow space between the sofa and the coffee table, so he gives up. “Fine, fine, you win. Do you want a prize?”

Niall looks thoughtful for a minute, making a show of rubbing his chin and really thinking about it. Then he grins excitedly, and he might actually say ‘a-ha!’. “I do want a prize.”

“And what would you like, undefeated master of sofa wars?” Harry expects to have to order another pizza or get more beer, so he’s a little surprised when Niall lets his legs fall open and settles heavily over Harry’s hips. Well, he’s a little surprised until he remembers that apparently this sort of thing happens to him now. Niall rocks down into him and even through two layers of denim Harry can tell Niall is already getting hard, and Harry finds he’s most of the way there himself. He looks at Niall with a question, and Niall shrugs and grins his crooked adorable grin.

“It’s been awhile, and you’re hot, and the beer made me horny so. Might as well.”

Harry thinks his head is going to spin right off his neck. If he was a more paranoid person, he might start looking around for the cameras, but instead, he just goes with it. That decision hasn’t steered him wrong yet, so it just makes sense. Niall grinds down against him again, harder than before and Harry groans, lifting his hands to grip Niall’s hips for leverage and pushing up into the delicious friction. He can feel Niall’s dick growing harder alongside his, and he gasps, letting his head fall back against the floor.

He must let his eyes fall shut, because he’s shocked by the first touch of Niall’s lips on his, clumsy and needy. Niall’s leaning down over Harry, their bodies pressed together from shoulders to hips and the change in angle makes Harry moan into Niall’s mouth, giving Niall’s tongue an excuse to tease over Harry’s lips. Harry’s dick is straining hard against his zip, and he wants to get his hand on it but he can’t seem to loose his fingers from their grip on Niall’s hips. Instead, he rocks his hips up again and again, feeling the rough slide of Niall’s trapped cock next to his, almost painful except for how it’s also completely perfect.

Above him, Niall is starting to shake, his kisses gone even sloppier as he pants and moans, one hand twisting tight in Harry’s hair. Harry can tell that he’s close, that both of them are about to come in their pants like kids who’ve never done this before but he doesn’t care, digging his teeth into Niall’s lip just as he grips his fingers in Niall’s ass and grinds them together so hard he sees stars. Niall shouts, yanking his lip out from between Harry’s teeth and his whole body goes stiff and then limp, and Harry swears he can feel the burst of hot and wet even through their clothes.

Niall slides off of him just enough to get his hand on Harry’s dick, no time for things like buttons or zippers. He just grips Harry hard through his jeans and leans in, his breath warm and wet at Harry’s ear as he works him. “C’mon, Harry, c’mon.” He eggs Harry on like that, dirty words and little licks and nips at his sensitive ears until Harry is coming, moaning and thrusting his hips up into Niall’s hand, his come soaking through his jeans and turning them into a sticky mess.

Harry feels a bit wrung out, over-sensitive and damp, but Niall is grinning like a fool, face red and blotchy and completely adorable. “What?” Harry heaves himself up on his elbows, grimacing at the slick slide of his trousers over his skin.

“Nothing, was just a good prize.” And then Niall actually leans over and rustles Harry’s hair before getting up and heading to the bathroom, his jeans hitting the floor before he’s even out of the room. “I’m going to grab a shower, order another pizza while I’m in there, yeah?”

Harry murmurs agreement, and considers peeling himself off the floor and changing before thinking better of it, collapsing back against the sofa and grabbing for his phone. If he’s honest, he could use some more pizza after that too.


Leave it to Louis to just come right out and say it. “So, Harry, I hear you’ve been a busy boy.”

Harry looks up from his phone to find Louis looking at him like the cat that got the cream. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Louis pauses, obviously for dramatic effect, “I hear that you’ve been busy. With your dick in Zayn and Liam’s mouths and rubbing against Niall like a horny teenager. Which, well, I guess is what you are, actually.”

Harry splutters, and is eternally grateful he’s not drinking anything. He’s not sure why he assumed that the other boys hadn’t said anything. They didn’t keep anything else a secret, so why would this be any different? “Well, I guess that’s true then.”

Louis nods thoughtfully, almost serenely, and then closes the space between them and plucks Harry’s phone out of his hands. “Glad to hear it. So, I was thinking.”

“Oh, that’s always a good sign.” Harry is rewarded with a glare and a swat on the thigh.

“Shh. I was thinking, that everyone else has had a go, so. Might as well then, yeah?” Louis smiles, all sparkling eyes and innocence that Harry doesn’t buy for a second, but he also feels something tingling in his belly and his mouth going a little dry so he nods.

“Yeah, might as well.”

“Excellent! Come on then, over here.” Louis is almost giddy as he drags Harry towards the too big bed in the middle of the hotel room, backing him right up to it before stopping and making quick work of pulling off all of Harry’s clothes, and then his own. Harry goes willingly when Louis pushes him back onto the bed, and at the first brush of Louis’ half-hard cock against his own, Harry is suddenly aware this is the first time that everyone in the situation has been totally naked. He thinks that probably has something to do with the weirdly accidental nature of the other encounters, but he doesn’t really want to waste the energy on thinking about that. Especially not when Louis is bending over him and kissing his chest, his tongue flattening out to rub over a nipple.

“So, I was also thinking that we should do something a little different.” Louis keeps kissing his way down Harry’s body, dipping his tongue into Harry’s navel and sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin over Harry’s hipbone. He pushes Harry’s legs wide, and Harry gasps when Louis bites down hard on his inner thigh.

“Different how?” Harry’s already getting breathless, and he hates to encourage whatever game Louis is playing right now, but he knows just how long Louis can hold on waiting for someone to play into his hand, and Harry doesn’t think he can wait him out. Not when Louis is sucking a bruise into Harry’s thigh, and Harry’s dick is hard against his belly.

“I’m so glad you asked.” Harry can feel Louis’ grin against his thigh, and he tilts up to watch as Louis lowers his head, his hands slipping under Harry’s ass lift him and then Louis’ tongue is on him and Harry think he’s going to die. Louis’ thumbs are spreading him wide open and his tongue is warm and wet, licking broad strokes over his hole. Harry makes high noises in the back of his throat, surprised but in the best possible way, his hands fisting in the sheets in a desperate attempt to not fly completely apart.

He moans helplessly when Louis starts licking him in earnest, putting just enough pressure on his hole to let Harry feel it give, and then making his tongue into a little point and tracing around the very edges. Harry is shaking and panting long before Louis finally pushes his tongue inside, Harry’s muscles relaxing easily around the intrusion, and Harry shouts loud enough that he’s sure people in the lobby can hear him. “Louis, please Lou, please.”

Harry’s not even sure what he’s asking for, doesn’t know what he needs but then Louis is sliding a finger in where his tongue used to be and his mouth is wrapped around Harry’s dick and it turns out, that’s exactly what Harry needed. With one swirl of Louis’ tongue and a twist of his finger Harry is coming hard and fast, his heart hammering in his chest as he spills down Louis’ throat. His limbs all feel heavy and useless, and he just wants to go to sleep, but he can’t let something like that go unrewarded. He can feel Louis rutting against his leg, hear him moaning softly into Harry’s hair, but Harry gets his arms to play along and flips them, Louis still making a delightfully shocked face and Harry swallows his cock down to the root.

He makes quick work of it, sucking hard and fast, flicking his tongue over the head and rolling Louis’ bollocks in his hand, tugging just a little to hear Louis gasp. Louis’ hands fist in Harry’s hair, holding him where he is, and Harry doesn’t really mind a bit. He lets Louis hold him still and fuck up into his mouth, the thick weight of Louis’ cock in his mouth enough to make Harry’s spent cock think about coming back to life. Harry can tell that Louis’ getting close, his thrusts going short and stabby, his grip on Harry’s hair almost enough to make his eyes water. He comes with Harry’s name on his lips, and Harry shoves his mouth down Louis’ cock to make sure he swallows everything, swirling his tongue around the over-sensitive head until Louis whimpers and guides him away.

Harry uses the last of his energy to crawl up to the pillows, slumping down uselessly next to Louis. Louis is grinning again, looking so satisfied with himself that Harry can’t decide if he wants to slap him or kiss him. “Can you gloat about how right you were later? ‘M tired.”

Louis brushes the hair back from Harry’s forehead fondly, tutting a little. “Aw, love. Spectacular sex is such hard work.”

Harry wants to say something smart, but what he really wants to do is curl up around Louis and go to sleep, so he does.


A couple of weeks after the time with Louis, Harry ducks out during a free afternoon and walks into the first tattoo place he sees. It only takes a few minutes, just three little words inked into his skin, but he’s grinning so hard his cheeks almost hurt as the tattoo artist bandages him up.

“Can I ask what the story behind this is?”

Harry shrugs telling him it’s a really long story and slipping into his coat. As he heads back to join the group, he’s already thinking about what the boys will think when they see it. Louis and Zayn will probably think it’s hilarious, and Liam will turn beet-red. Niall will probably shrug, but secretly he’ll grin about it. Harry presses his finger against the bandage, feeling the slight burn, and smiles to himself. He thinks maybe he’ll just let them discover it on their own. Surprise them this time.